They Came

They came in the early morning, just as the sun halved the ocean and the horizon. Ten men dressed in multiple layers of black and white cloth hopped from boats and waded to shore. Several of the men carried small black books close to their chest. The men were very light-skinned--not like my people. I hid in the tall grass near the beach, one hand gripping a long, stout reed, watching.

They walked with heads held high--so confident in their movement--talking in a quick, harsh language I had never heard. Surely, they couldn't have known where they were going, but they walked in a line that intersected my tribe. With soft feet--a panther in summer hunt--I shadowed the group of closely huddled men.

When we were a smooth stone's throw from the edge of my tribe's guarded boundary, I called out in the manner of a small, red-tufted bird. From every point around the strange men I saw movement. The foreigners were ignorant of the eyes in the jungle suddenly around them.

We went a few steps closer to my people, and my brother, Banu, walked from out of the trees and faced the men. They stopped. Some clutched their book tighter, while others held it at a straight arm's length in the direction of my brother. In his gruff way, Banu told them to stop their progress and asked them why they intruded. As they gathered closer and more of my people walked from the trees, one of the light-skinned men stepped forward. He feigned fear (shoulders slumped, hands out; submissive) but I saw quiet reassurance, the look of a sly devil when he turned from his people.

Methodically and repeatedly, the pretending foreigner pointed to his book, pointed to the sky and spoke his language slowly and loudly.

My brother listened half-heartedly. He was not the eldest and had no ability to speak for the tribe; he was just the most eager to confront outsiders. He lowered his hand and motioned for me to tell him what I knew about the light-men. I motioned back with both hands that they had come by boat and appeared to carry no weapons. The two of us had a silent hand language we used when hunting. I never dreamt it would also be used in this manner. This was exhilarating.

Several nods ringed the small camp, and my people lowered their spears on the light-men. The pretending, sly devil raised his voice louder, and the pretend washed from his face. All of the others held their little books out at my people and shakily smiled. Many times they bowed their heads subserviently.

It seemed clear that they meant no harm but neither did we. There was only one man in our tribe who would be able to communicate with the light-men. Unfortunately, we had no way to tell them of this and there was great need to herd them to him like cattle. To stray too far from the path was to give your flesh to the animals and your soul to the sun. They moved like our slowest, sickest cattle but smiled, chattering amongst themselves.

Savory scents greeted us, a banquet of delicate smells for our mysterious guests. They were seated by friendly spear-point next to the hunters' huts far from our children. Little bowls of watered-down milk were given to each man. They drank--at least pretended to--with darting eyes.

Banu and two older hunters went for the Magic Man, while the rest of us watched the light-men.

Moments later, in full ritual garb, the Magic Man stepped from his grass hut. As he walked, each step slow and careful, he gazed upon each light-man, finally resting his attention on the one who spoke for their tribe.

The sly devil seemed very pleased with the presence of the Magic Man and throwing his bowl to the ground, spilling the watered milk, he started for the Magic Man. His swift movement frightened me. I jumped to my feet and jammed my stout reed into his neck. I bared my teeth.

With his muscular hands, Banu grabbed my shoulders and threw me to the dirt. Then, he pushed away several other hunters who had also reacted to the sly devil's hasty movements.

The Magic Man stepped into a spot where the sun pushed through the trees, two steps from the foreigner. He stood rigid with no intent to speak and full intent to listen. The Magic Man's motions transcended language, and the sly devil began to talk. He spoke fast, his eyes growing wide and his hands tapping his head, his chest and his book.

After the sly devil stopped talking, the Magic Man spoke to us in our language.

"This man from another land says that he comes in peace bearing a gift. He says that his gift is immortality." There were many whispers between my people. "He says that he knows of a man and a god who can provide this immortality. He says that our people will suffer without this knowledge." A more heated commotion stirred my people.

The Magic Man pointed to one of the light-men sitting by the hunters' huts. Then he spoke in the language of the foreigners. The Magic Man was our guide through this journey, through this wandering destiny; and as guide, he could communicate with all men, all animals and all gods.

Turning to my brother, the Magic Man whispered into his ear. Banu motioned me with his hands to find two knives and to bring them to him. I ran like a crack of lightning to the artillery hut. Who was I to be so important, so necessary? This was almost too much excitement for me to handle.

Two knives sat atop a wicker chest as if the Magic Man had alerted them to be at the ready. Feet carrying me faster than they had ever before, I dodged a chicken, skirted a woman with child and slid next to Banu. He took both knives from my hands.

The Magic Man looked down at me and told me to stand next to the light-man he had earlier pointed at. The light-man was standing next to the sly devil who looked nervous, for the first time truly unsure.

Taking one of the knives, the Magic Man stepped closer to the light-man. With the other knife, Banu stepped closer to me. I was beginning to feel the same nervousness as the sly devil.

The Magic Man looked to my people and raised his voice so that the deafest man in our tribe could hear. "We will now see whose gods grant immortality." He repeated this in the language of the foreigners.

They were a busted beehive. Our hunters grabbed the maddened men and wrestled them to the ground. Three men could barely hold the writhing sly devil. My legs began to shake.

The light-man who the Magic Man had earlier pointed at was brought back to his kicking feet, then onto his knees. He was now my height.

With little warning and no hesitation, the Magic Man plunged the knife into the chest of the kneeling light-man. He screamed, which lowered into a moan, which lowered into a gurgle.

I turned to Banu. He looked pained but only momentarily.

My chest burned liked falling naked onto mountain ice. The tips of my fingers and toes sizzled with activity. Little stars burst into my vision then trailed back out of sight.

I painfully turned to the light-man kneeling next to me. His face was facing mine, but his eyes were peering into the sky of another world.

A cough shook my numbing body. I looked back again at Banu. He smiled. He wept.

Word Count: 1,294 words.