Awaken (2 page)

I tried once to explain this to my
friend Ben, but he just stared at me all simple like and said I’d
best keep my mouth shut ‘bout that else everybody would think I
belonged out in the sand lands with the muties. So I never
mentioned it again. A secret between me and the land.

I move up the trail a bit more and
hunker down by a scraggly bush to check on my next trap. Unlike the
ones before this one has snared a dirt dog. Good. I had promised
fresh meat for tonight’s stew and I didn’t want to disappoint. I
hook the furry carcass onto the strap of my slingbag and say a
quiet “thank you” to the critter for its sacrifice. Ben scoffs at
me when I do this. He calls it superstitious shite but I believe in
thanking the land for providing and I ain’t going to admit it to
him but I truly believe the land hears me when I do.

Shizen...it was hot! I take off my hat
and wipe the dust and sweat from my face with my neck wrapper. A
warm southerly wind picks up and feels real good blowing through my
sweat soaked hair. The day is heating up real quick. I’d best be
finished before the sun sits too high in the sky.

I keep moving up the trap line, start
humming a tune that pops into my head. I try to remember what song
it’s from. I don’t recall ever hearing Shelly or gra’da sing it
before, but they must have. I hum it a bit more, it scratches at my
brain. Maybe, I think, it’s something my ma used to sing to me when
I was a baby, wouldn’t that be something. I don’t remember my ma,
or my pa for that matter. Never knew ‘em, but I reckon I must have
had them at some point. Nobody in Rivercross ever knew ‘em. Don’t
rightly know where I come from. Gra’da found me he says, one day
while he was out scavenging. All he was looking to find was some
medicinal herbs or at least some good tradin’ trinkets but instead
he happened upon me. He says I was just a laying in a building husk
crying my fool head off and as dirty as the day was long. He
reckoned I’d been there a couple of days at least and that no one
was going to come looking anytime soon. There was no sign of my
folks, he don’t know if I was left there on purpose like or if
something awful bad happened to my ma and pa. As low as it sounds I
like to think they were eaten by devil cats or taken by a dust
storm. It kind of makes me feel better than thinking they had just
left me on my own to die. Anyhow, now gra’da was saddled with a
bawling, hungry baby so he figured he may as well take me home and
he reared me ever since, for eighteen years now. So today was
really my “found” day. I always laugh when he says that.

He’s been real good to me, taught me
everything I know. He’s a mighty fine shot with the crossbow and
the iron shooter, but he says there are days when I’m a hell of a
lot better. He taught me to plant for harvest and to find and brew
the medicinal herbs needed to treat sickness and infection. He
showed me how to make stew and corn biscuits, though mine always
turn out awful bad tasting. He even taught me to read and write
some. Even though I didn’t see the point of that, he kept saying it
would come in handy some day so I didn’t argue the learning....
much. I just went along with it. Cain’t say an opportunity has ever
arose out in the sand lands for me to use my word learning, but as
long as it made gra’da happy. He loves me like a real gra’da though
some days when I rattle his nerves he says he should have traded me
instead of keeping me, but I know he don’t mean it.

The hot wind is blowing stronger now
and I can taste the dust in my mouth. I use the neck wrapper to
cover my nose and mouth and turn into the wind, towards Rivercross.
The sun is getting a mite high in the sky, Ben is late this
morning. Then as if my thoughts conjure him up, I see him, running
across the scraggly ground as if a bunch of devil cats were nipping
at his heels. I smile underneath the wrapper. That boy was always
rushing to get nowhere.

The familiar “Hey Tar-Tar,” reaches my
ears shortly before I’m lifted up in a bone crushing
hug.

“
Happy born day.”

I punch him in the shoulder.

“
Put me down you mule
turd!”

He does as I say and I look up into his
face, amazed again that I have to do so. Growing up I was always
the bigger and taller one, being as I was a few months older. But
this year he has grown so much. He must be a good head above me
now. It was a mite unsettling. He is covered in a layer of dust
from his boots to the top of his sun yellow hair but his brown eyes
are shining bright with laughter.

“
And how does it feel to be
an old folk now.”

“
What? Who you callin’ old?”
I say and snort a loud “Hah! I can still kick your butt boy, like
always, so show some respect!”

He laughs, a loud belly bustin’ sound.
That laugh always brings a smile to my face.

“
Aye, no doubt you could,”
he says. “I brought you something.”

I grab eagerly for the cloth he takes
from his sling bag but he pulls it out of my reach and holds it
high above his head.

“
Hey! Not yet. We gotta eat
first. Me and pa have been out since before dawn and I’m
starvin’!”

His words irritate me some and I let it
clearly show but it just makes him smile more. He truly enjoys
torturing me.

In the middle of the trap line there’s
this pile of boulders with a small overhang. It kind of makes a
shallow cave and gives a little protection from the wind and dust.
It’s our usual place to rest up when we’re out hunting. We settle
down in our little nook and Ben pulls from his slingbag a waterskin
and two round wedges of sweet berry bread.

“
Here, ma said ‘cause it’s
your special womanly born day’ you can have an early treat.” I
ignore his snicker and eagerly take a wedge. It’s still warm! I
hold it up to my nose and sniff and the smell makes my mouth water
in anticipation. Not able to wait any longer I take a huge bite.
The sweet berry flavor floods my mouth and I close my eyes…it’s so
good!

“
Shizen, this is delicious!”
Well that’s what I try to say around the hunk of bread in my mouth
but I don’t think Ben understands. I can tell ‘cause he’s looking
at me all dumb like, then shakes his head and laughs.

“
Just close your mouth and
chew Tara.”

I do as he says, take a swig from the
waterskin and wipe my mouth with my sleeve.

“
Your ma is the best cook
ever,” I say.

“
Aye, that she is,” he
agrees.

We eat in silence for a bit, just
enjoying the rare treat, listening to the wind and watching it
raise and swirl little dust devils outside our shelter. I keep
eying the gift Ben has left sitting between us the whole time. He
knows it’s bothering me some but he don’t let me have
it.

“
Found a good patch of berry
bushes yesterday out past the old swimming hole,” he says, breaking
our comfortable silence.

“
Oh yeah?” I say. The
swimming hole has been dried up for years now, ain’t been there in
a while.

“
Got us a good bucket full,
me and pa. Ma was real pleased.”

I nod. “I reckoned the berries this
morning had come from you.”

“
Aye. I snuck ‘em in real
early, your gra’da asked me too. You were still sleeping, snoring
like Lou’s ol’ hound used to do.”

“
What…?” My eyes go all big.
“I was not! I don’t snore!”

“
Now how do you know if
you’re asleep?” he says. “I ain’t lying, you nearly busted my
eardrum.”

But he’s laughing so I know he’s just
torturing me some again.

“
You’re a mule turd,” I say.
He raises an eyebrow at me.

“
Oh is that so?” He picks up
the gift and starts putting it back in his slingbag. “If I remember
correctly Ma’s got a born day coming up soon. I’m pretty sure she
don’t think I’m a mule turd.”

“
No…….!” I lunge at the
gift. “I’m sorry Ben, truly.”

He holds it above my head again.
“Truly?” he asks.

I nod. “Truly.”

“
Okay, here.” I yank it from
his hands and once it’s safe in my possession I mutter again “Mule
turd.” He laughs.

Gently I place the cloth on my lap and
eagerly unfold the layers. Laying inside is a flower, but it ain’t
like any flower I’ve ever seen around Rivercross. What it’s made
from I ain’t sure, maybe some kind of settler plastic. It has a
center of pure white but the petals surrounding it are all shiny
black. One of the petals has a leather thong laced through it so as
to wear it around my neck. It has a couple of chips in it but it’s
surely one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen. But all I
say is “Oh.”

Ben is looking all worried.

“
What’s the matter? You
don’t like it?”

“
No! It ain’t that. It’s
just… I ain’t never owned anything so pretty before.”

I guess it’s the right thing to say
‘cause he’s smiling again.

“
Well go ahead…put it
on.”

I untie my neck wrapper and start to
place the leather strand round my neck but Ben scoots over and
takes it out of my hands so as to do it for me. I lift my long
braid out of his way.

“
Found it last week when me
and pa were out at the pickin’ grounds. The bucket it was stuck to
was full of these things, but this one…this one was special. Had a
hell of a time getting it offa the bucket but I knew it had to be
this one ‘cause the black and white was just like your hair….made
me think of ya.”

He stops talking but right away my
hands move instinctively to cover my hair. My hair is black, as
black as crow feathers but it has these two awful looking white
stripes on both sides of my face that run from the top of my head
straight to the ends. It’s always been like that for as long as I
can remember.

I cain’t recall how many times the old
folk would say “how strange” it were or joke about how I must be a
mutie or something. I always tried to hide them in braids or under
my hat but they were a real sore spot with me. Hearing Ben speak of
‘em bothers me some. He just moves my hands back to my lap and goes
right on talking.

“
It reminded me of how darn
pretty your hair is so I says to myself …Ben, this has got to be
Tara’s born day gift.”

His hands brush the back of my neck
making me shiver some.

“
There, nice and tight so
you won’t lose it.”

I look down at it lying against my
dingy tunic. I’m quiet for a bit. I ain’t ever been good at putting
my soft feelings into words, Ben was always better at that sort of
stuff. But I want him to know what it means to me.

“
Thank you Ben…it’s truly
the most perfect born day gift I ever got,” I say
quietly.

He shrugs, and then grins at me, the
laughter back in his eyes.

“
Weren’t nuthin. Would have
given you the bucket too but pa figured it would come in real handy
for taking out the slop.”

I laugh at this. I laugh so hard my
stomach starts to hurt. Trust Ben to turn our conversation to
slop.

“
You’re a…..”

“
Mule turd….I know, I know,”
he says and ducks the punch I throw at his shoulder. “Hey, if you
want help checking the trap line you better stop with the
hittin’!”

“
Lot of good you are to
me…ain’t much of it left to check,” I say, but I’m just
teasing.

My words make him frown some though and
he glances at my slingbag.

“
You’re almost finished
checking and that’s all you got? Two dirt dogs?” he says in
disbelief.

“
Aye,” I say. “Ain’t much I
know….was hoping for a couple more at least. If I don’t get ‘em
then I was thinking I might head out a bit further into the sand
lands, see if I can get me a wild rabbit or maybe even a wild
hog.”

He looks at me all funny….then
laughs.

“
Wild hog?” he says “Ain’t
been no wild hog ‘round these parts going on two years now
Tara…you’re talking foolish.”

I know he’s right. There ain’t been no
decent game spotted anywhere near Rivercross in a long time. But
his laughing at me irritates me some.

“
Who are you to say I won’t
find no wild hog? You a seer now like old Molly?” I say, mad at him
for calling me foolish.

“
No, but I ain’t no fool
either.”

The smile drops from his face and he
looks real serious all of a sudden. It ain’t like his normal look
at all.

“
I know what’s happening
even though none of the old folk will say so. Rivercross is a dying
place Tara. I cain’t remember the last time we caught us a fish, or
rabbit, or hog….can you?”

I think about it, but finally I shake
my head no.

“
It’s been a long time,” I
say.

“
Exactly! And we ain’t ever
gonna see them things again, mark my words. Shizen, we ain’t ever
gonna see that river run no more either. Might as well call the
place muddy cross ‘cause it’s all that’s left of that damn
river!”

He’s angry, his face is all red. This
truly surprises me. Ben is never angry. He’s always joking, or
laughing, or downright irritating…but never angry. The surprise
must be showing on my face some ‘cause he looks away
ashamedly.