Aur Child

Alai-Tiul, fisherman and village electrician, set out to town immediately after his breakfast on his old bicycle well before the sun was at its zenith. The land continued to steam from the combination of rain and intensifying heat. A haze filled the air as the wicked sun burned away immeasurable volumes of precious water from puddles and temporary ponds. His son bounced cheerfully on the rack behind Alai, holding on to the seat with one hand and chattering on about any thought that popped into his mind.

Alai hoped to find Gallia quickly, but her whereabouts today was unpredictable. With others, for sure, preparing for the celebrations. The forest paths were empty, the village bustling. People would usually be indoors at this time, hiding from the oppressive summer sun. But on every street up and down the hill, the need for preparations clearly superseded regular habits.

When Alai arrived at the foot of the village, he looked around with jerky movements amongst all the people moving about. He started with surprise when he caught sight of her. Nearly missed her. Her mouth pressed against a mug, nodding in her calm way in discussion with the villager Minjla-Hoenria. He squeezed the brakes. Gallia faced the doorway, chatting with Minjla, but the flash of the bicycle arriving, and the intense chatter of the young boy, seemed to catch their attention. She smiled towards Alai as he set his foot down onto the softened soil.

“Good Day, Elder Tiul.” Alai stepped quickly forward, presenting a mudra first to Gallia and then to Minjla. The boy softly echoed these greetings from behind his father.

“Well, Good Day to the both of you! What a pleasant surprise on this rich morning to be blessed with months of water and bump into the most industrious members of our clan!” She peeked around Alai’s compact frame at the boy who seemed to hide behind him. “And how are you, young man?”

Alai realized that Gallia animated her greeting on behalf of the boy; she would want to appear encouraging about the approaching rite-of-passage journey into adulthood, his first losting. Important as it was, Alai knew a discussion about that would interfere with his delivery of important news.

Yet these moons are the most important for him to choose.

The boy looked shyly at the old woman. “Very well, Elder Tiul. Thank you!” And then, he added, “We harvested more than three months of water last night, ma’am.”

“Oh, glorious news!” She turned toward Minjla. “I wish to all our villagers the joy of similar bounties.”

Minjla replied politely, “We prosper from Earth’s generosity.”

The boy continued excitedly, “We would’ve got more, but the pumps to the greenhouse stopped in the night.”

Alai reacted with quick lifting of his hands. Too late. He saw the scowl cross Minjla’s face as the boy finished. The woman could lift her upper lip in such a way that her white teeth were exposed in a half-smile, half-snarl; impossible to say which. But he knew the cause of that expression. Tinkering. The villagers never approved of it. They’d refuse a new idea even if it promised to collect twice as much water. Alai leaned forward to shift the conversation to the news he had brought.

“We came quickly to see you, Elder Tiul.”

Gallia seemed to notice the tension but did not react to Alai’s words. She motioned the boy towards the porch. “Please, come to the shade, boy!” Then she shifted her focus to the boy’s father. “Alai, you must stand with us in the shade as well.”

Gallia turned to Minjla, subjecting her to fresh doting on the boy.

“Such a good student he is,” she said. “Always asking important questions…and never getting distracted by what’s going on outside the classroom.” At this, she shot a wry smile towards Alai. The boy looked down with a smirk.

“Here, please enjoy a mug of water,” Minjla said, but Alai sensed hesitation in her hospitality.

“I don’t mind finding a place for another glass myself ...if only to celebrate together, no?” As Gallia handed her mug to the woman, she spoke more words from the didactic, “Our star guides us through space and time.”

“Yes, it does,” Minjla said. She handed earthen mugs to Alai and the boy. They each thanked their host, and a calmness swept over the porch with their draft.

“Elder Tiul,” Alai began in the gap of silence, “I must tell you now about why …” but Gallia raised a hand, seemingly intent upon her line of thought.

“A moment, Alai,” she said, again smacking her lips. She looked at the shy child leaning against the coquina wall with his hands behind his back. “You really do grow by the day, don’t you, boy? Just another year and you too will get lost, hmm? I recall when your father was your age. Yes, he was a wild one, he was. Always exploring and inspecting. Always testing and asking more than was needed to know. Very inquisitive. Always seeking beyond the limits….and paying the price occasionally, too, hm?” She bumped Alai’s arm with her elbow, revealing another smirk to the boy. The boy’s eyes lit up and he squeezed his lips together to contain a giggle.

“Ah, yes,” she mumbled with some satisfaction, as she nestled the cool mug against the pendant resting on her bosom. The boy sipped again at his mug. Citrus wafted through the air. She aimed her powerful eyes at the boy and spoke in characteristic, kind-hearted ramble. “Your losting. Take a long break from here, yes? Explore and find out what it is like elsewhere? Decide if you like it better somewhere else or prefer to be here at Hill Village. It is every youth’s right. And, when you are ready to go, you shall go! When it calls,” she leaned in toward the boy with a strong stare, “you are free to go! Yes. That’s the point. Freedom. Run from this boring old harbor town if you like.”

Minjla recited the words that were told to every young adult upon their departure: “Free to go and free to return. Welcomed with a warm embrace upon your return. Thought of with warm memories if you choose not to.” She tapped her fingernail against the side of the earthen mug as she stepped through these words.

“The village provides all that we need, we tell you. All,” she stiffened her voice to a lecturing tone and looked assuredly into the boy’s eyes, “except the adventures that lie far beyond!” She opened her palm towards Alai and added, “Young people need adventure.”

Silence again returned to the porch. Alai could hear the bustle of villagers beyond the narrow yard and insects buzzing in the trees. His lips pressed together as he debated with himself whether to be polite and let this important moment run its course or to cut it short with his urgent news.

“To really get lost,” Gallia continued, “is to search for a stranger world, explore the glimmering towns and listen to the strangest tongues. Go out and meet endearing men and women, or scoundrels and thieves. Taste the myriad flavors of the Earth and learn about its glories like no single village can teach you.”

Alai saw his son’s nostrils flare. Gallia was now deep in a spontaneous lesson.

“Merchant vessels always have duties suitable for lost children on board. It’s not hard work, is it Alai?”

“No, Elder Tiul,” he said. “It’s not.”

The sun continued to sear the ground beyond the porch, but the air wafted coolly beside the thick walls of the cottage. The empty mugs hung from limp fingers.

“Ah, people are different,” the elder continued in her musing. “A solo jaunt can become lonely, or it can make one free to think for days without the interruption of another’s voice, or without using one’s own. I still prefer to travel alone; although, I do find ways to see acquaintances along the way.”

The boy’s dulling eyes opened at this thought. “Have you made many lostings, Elder Tiul?” he asked.

“We are all free to go when we will. At my age, I have made a few already.”

“I would want to be with friends,” he said, puffing up his scrawny chest.

“Who knows?” she sipped slowly from the bottom of her mug. “As a pair, or larger group, it’s not always easy to befriend people, strike up random conversations, make unexpected connections, or veer on an unplanned course. The sea may take you anywhere, even inland to see mountains!” She seemed to wake from her thoughts and looked at the boy, “Of course, you must never lose sight of the wind towers,” she noted.

The boy nodded.

Gallia stood quietly, a soft hum escaping her nose as she thought hard. “I myself wandered from village to town, from one port to another, for over a year.”

Alai stiffened as he listened to this special glimpse into his clan elder’s life that he had never heard before.

“I never committed to coming home until my great-grandmother – you never met her so I will not bore you about her except to say she was a beautiful person – revealed her aging too clearly in our brief correspondences. She had cheered my departure with a hope that I could encounter at least a bit of the magic that she recalled from so many years ago. You see,” the woman looked up for a moment to catch the eyes of Alai, “it is a time-honored tradition that all families accept and encourage!”

The boy’s jaw dropped and his lips parted. He gazed at Gallia. Alai hoped he would recognize this as a special moment; at least he could recognize an uncommon lesson when he heard one.

“Were you really lost for more than a year?” the boy asked, stepping closer to Gallia.

“Sixteen moons after I left – one day before the full summer moon in fact – I returned to Hill Village with a mind full of thrilling memories but with a pang of respect for this little corner of the world.”

“Oh,” the boy whispered.

Alai shifted his weight. He had already watched the shadows slide a distance along the porch.

“As Elder Tiul says, you choose how long to be away, and when or if you want to return,” he said.

Minjla looked down at her pitcher.

“Oh dear,” she said, turning towards the door, “please continue while I fetch some more water.”

Gallia smiled approvingly at Alai. Only now did she seem to straighten up her diminutive frame and narrow her eyes.

“Very well. What an entirely unexpected topic we’ve struck upon!” she seemed to meditate to herself as she mumbled, “Our star hides itself to reveal the presence of infinite other stars beyond our reach.” And then, shaking her head, she added, “Yet, I am sure that was not the reason for your visit to town, was it?”

“Well, no, it wasn’t Elder Tiul,” replied Alai with an exhale of relief.

“So I thought.” She turned to look into the cottage for a moment, and then she continued. “But please do give me some reason to leave now. If I have any more water, I will be peeing all day.”

The boy giggled, but now Alai shuffled his feet awkwardly, struggling to fake a smile.

“The reason we came,” he said, “was to tell you about something strange I saw last night, and what I found in the forest this morning.”

“Oh?” She looked around cautiously and handed her empty mug to the boy with a slight nod. “Then, do tell.”

“During the storm, I thought I saw a fire catch down by the cliffs behind Sharkjaw. I could see a flash over the treetops. It glowed green for a while.”

He noticed Gallia take hold of the boy’s arm to steady herself. With her other hand, she reached up for the pendant beneath the collar of her frock. Her eyes glanced to the window of the cottage and Alai followed it to see the tips of Minjla’s fingers at the window.

Alai adjusted his voice to a whisper. “At least,” he paused to consider the skepticism of Bemko-Tiul, “that’s what I thought I saw. This morning, I walked down to Sharkjaw Creek and found two deep craters. I heard something pop in the trees. The craters were bigger than this porch and charred all around.”

Gallia’s mouth dropped open. Her eyes sank but she remained silent.

“I also found this,” he said, pulling the rag from his pocket and placing it in her weathered hand. She held it close to her face, smelling the fabric as she rolled it between her fingers.

“The fire was out when you arrived?”

“I saw no fire. Must have been put out by the storm. I couldn’t go to sleep without being sure there was no risk to the village.”

“A green glow you say?”

“Yes, a green glow.”

“You didn’t see anyone?”

“I thought that pop might have been someone, and the rag also gave me the idea I might find a person, but no. Just those craters and lots of trees downed all around ’em, like there had been an explosion.” He shook his head as he recalled the scene. “The creek was raging. Below the craters, it was very hot.”

Gallia looked up at him.

“The creek was hot?” she asked with a gasp.

Alai nodded nervously. He watched the old woman’s face deep in contemplation. If Elder Tiul now asked him whether he had found anything else, he knew he would have to reveal the cube immediately. If she did not ask, he hoped for a chance to inspect it more before having to give it up.

“Charred craters?”

“Yes. Black all around. And the trees blown down as if it wasn’t lightning that did it, but something else entirely.”

The elderly woman presented an uncharacteristically pronounced frown, enveloping her diamond-shaped nose in a quilt of wrinkles. Alai felt an odd emptiness in his stomach.

“This is a great concern to me, Alai. Thank you for telling me right away.” She pressed her lips together, a thin horizontal line stitched together by countless vertical ones. “Oh my, I should not have blabbed on so when you meant to tell me this.”

At that moment, Minjla had returned to the porch with a full jar of water. Gallia patted her on the shoulder and smiled. “Thank you, but I must leave.”

“Oh? Well, your visit has been an honor, Elder Tiul.”

Gallia placed her wide hat on her head. The three villagers watched her step down from the porch.

“Alai,” she said, turning back to him, the slightest quiver appearing at the corner of her mouth, “Would you go with the boy to the harbor? Ask a fisherman, perhaps Gorian if you see him there, to sail around to Crabber’s Bay and patrol for any signs of life. Just one boat is enough, and preferably his. I will ask a few of the elders to ride with me to the creek and inspect these craters for myself. After you’ve sent off a boat, please enjoy the festivities with your family. If we need anything more, I will send word.”

“Yes, Elder Tiul. I, –I couldn’t help in any other way right now?”

“No, Alai. And Minjla-Hoenria,” she added in the direction of the shaded porch, “Of what you’ve heard, please share it only with Elder Hoenria.”