Other Worlds Were Possible, page 23
Aura had clamped her hands in between the hinges beneath her knees. Sparrow was biting his lip. Setting Sun was fluttering her eyelids, attempting to refocus her vision.
“You can speak,” Sunny offered, more tentatively than he had intended. “Be as honest as you like.”
No-one uttered a word.
It was understandable. Their home had been taken by a murderous foe. Their land had been violated. Their ancestral forest had been turned into something grotesque. Their bellies were tormented by hunger. And their minds were tormented by anxiety and fear.
Their disquietude had crept up on them, so slowly, that its progress had been imperceptible. Everyone knew how they felt. Their feelings were too intense to ignore. But they could not recall when their emotions had overwhelmed them.
Sunny prodded again:
“What about the land? I mean, they’re offering us land. It may not be this land… Our land… Good land… But we can make it our home. Who knows? We might even come to love it.”
Sunny panned from one face to the next.
He stopped when he reached Serenity, locked eyes, and pushed for an answer:
“Beloved uncle: Surely you have something to add?”
Having been accosted such a direct question, Serenity felt compelled to reply; answering in a voice which was so quiet, people had to turn their ears to listen:
“What do we know of this land? Will it be as wide, deep and high as our own land? Will it have a water source which will attract animals? Will it be blessed by the good earth? Will the air smell of almonds? Will its sky inspire us to smile?”
Sunny did not reply. There was no need. Serenity had cut a path through the silence, and now everyone wished to speak.
“They say they’ll provide us with seeds and machinery,” Sunny’s mother began. “But they’ll want something in return. They’ll impose one of those things they imposed on Songbird… One of those mortal engagements... We’ll be enslaved by their debt forever.”
“What do we want with seeds and machines?” Asked Mountain. “We hunt and we gather. If we’d wanted to commit to agriculture, we’d have done it a thousand generations ago. Why on earth and the ancestral realm would we allow a foreign people to impose such a thing upon us?”
“Too right!” Aura echoed. “And they want us to produce grain? Grain? Of all things, grain?... Don’t they know that grain-based societies are prone to collapse? Have they not heard the story of Auntie Barley, whose crops were washed away by floods; who replanted them, only for them to be destroyed by a hurricane; who replanted them again, only for them to be destroyed by an earthquake? Don’t they know that farming leads to over-population, and that over-population leads to war, famine and disease? Talk about putting all your eggs in a single shell! They don’t know their arseholes from their belly-buttons.”
“They think they’re Mister Perfect,” Sparrow concurred. “And we know what happened to him. He was so busy, admiring his reflection in a pool, that he became oblivious to the world around him. Yes, that’s right. A serpent asked him for directions. But Mister Perfect was obsessed! He couldn’t pull himself away from his reflection. The snake felt she was being ignored. She became offended, and then angry. She ate that man alive!
“Yes, you heard me: This agriculture will eat those Wogies alive. Living so closely together? What insanity! They think they’re so perfect, but disease will ravage their camp. They’ll drop dead in a matter of moons.”
Dusk nodded his gargantuan head.
“Let it be said: We only have two options: Land or freedom… We can keep a portion of land, if we forgo our freedom; making the stuff the Wogies want, when they want it, and gifting them the larger share. Or we can flee, to avoid such brutish demands, knowing that the Wogies will surely follow.”
Dawn disagreed; more out of instinct than design:
“Have you heard nothing? We thought Sunny was risking his life, when he visited the Wogies’ camp. But was he harmed?... Negatively, no! He wasn’t threatened or attacked… Let it be heard: The fact that these Wogies are willing to allocate us a portion of land, and protect us from afar, shows that they aren’t as brutish as we supposed. We’re being offered a bright yellow opportunity. And who knows? Perhaps life will be good, with their sturdy huts, which last forever, and their animals, which do most of this ‘Work’.”
Everyone turned to Sunny. It took a few moments for him to realise that they wanted him to respond. And it took him a few more moments, before he finally obliged:
“Oh… Okay… So, yes, as Dawn has said, the Wogies are apt to diplomacy. We’ve all met Father Ralph. We’ve encountered his charm. And we’ve seen how he seems to believe in his own sense of righteousness.
“And yes, the Wogies are offering us an opportunity to live the type of life which seems to be good enough for them. A peculiar sort of gluttonous existence.
“But there’s something else. Something I forgot to mention… It’s… Well, it’s a little too ghastly for words… What I’m trying to say is… Oh ancestral realm! I’ll just perch like a parrot and sing: They forced themselves upon Songbird’s daughter. Sexually, I mean. With their man-snakes. In her… Well, you understand.”
The majority of the clan did not “Understand”. But they did not give voice to their confusion, since this would have been superfluous. Their eyes were already demanding an explanation; bulging, pointing, almost prodding; pulsating with an irregular rhythm.
Sunny buckled to the pressure, using the simplest terms he could muster:
“Three men… Big men, adult men… They stripped that girl naked. I mean, she cannot have witnessed more than a hundred full moons… A tattoo-less cub… And they had sex with that child. But not friendly sex. It was like… She didn’t want it… She didn’t enjoy it... She… They… They forced themselves upon her, and there wasn’t a thing she could do.
“Songbird called it a ‘Punishment’. It’s like… I think a punishment is a bit like a protection. Only the recipient cannot refuse to perform a punishment. They cannot appeal… Songbird suffers through work. Then she gets gifted… she gets paid money, which she uses to get food. But her daughter shared some food, without suffering through work. So she had to suffer through this punishment, after she’d eaten.”
The clans-folk muttered beneath their breath:
“For shame!”
“These inverts have no honour.”
“May their spirits be trapped in a forest with no trees.”
Dusk was livid. His hair had puffed up to almost double its previous volume, and his ears pointed away from his skull.
“Is this what you want? To live among people who would do such things to children? Who’d rather watch us starve than share our food?
“Positively! Dawn: You’re the enemy within. Seductive but lethal. You speak of these huts and animals. And we see the appeal. But let it be said: This is a trap. These people are ravenous beasts. They’ll take one thing, and then demand another. There isn’t enough water or wood, upon this loving earth, to satisfy their endless desires. Why would we, a free people, wish to make ourselves slaves to such consumption? Why would we waste our mornings, putting on all the different cloths they force themselves to wear? Why would we use up our afternoons, toiling so hard in the fields? For what? To get things we’ve never needed, or which we could’ve hunted or gathered with ease?
“They may have their cargo. But this is all they have. They don’t have a deep connection with nature. They aren’t rich in time, freedom, relations, trust, comfort or ease. In the ways that matter, we’re better off than them. They’re brutes! They shackle, whip and molest. They’re the ones who should change. It might take a while for them to adjust, but they’d be happier in the end.”
For a moment, it seemed that Dusk was done. But after scratching an armpit, and after taking a breath which was so deep, he had to pause midway through; he stood up and resumed his tirade with even more gusto than before:
“If we had their possessions, we’d give them all away. If one of our members was hungry, we’d gift them all the food we had. But if one of their members was hungry, they’d give them a ‘Punishment’. They’d attack a little girl for sharing the same food that we’d have given her without a moment’s hesitation.
“These people don’t practice mutual aid. They cannot maintain their autonomy. They’re dependent on their work-punishments.
“And another thing: Can’t you see where this is heading? Physically exhausted by these work-punishments, and mentally fatigued by this money-debt; the people in that camp won’t have the time or energy to participate in group meetings. They’ll allow a few busybodies to make all the important decisions, without consulting the community, or winning the people’s consent.”
A few people chortled. Others chuckled. This idea, that the members of a tribe might gift all the power to just a few individuals, seemed too bizarre for words.
Dawn had to swallow his laughter. This caused his eyes to water. He almost gagged, almost retched, and almost swallowed his tongue:
“Cough, cough… You think… Sputter, sputter… You think they’d allow a few representatives to decide how to rule their camp?... Sorry, their town… Without them there to watch, ask questions or make proposals? You think they’d permit other people to decide how much of this work they should do? And how much of this money they should be gifted?”
Dusk nodded.
Dawn shook his head, redirecting the light back onto his shoulders.
“That’s insane! No people, at any time, or in any place, would permit other people to rule them in such a manner. It’s a preposterous notion.”
But Dusk was adamant:
“It’s happening already! You heard what Sunny said about Chief King. Whilst we mock anyone who might try to become a chief, they obey such people. They can’t even talk to Chief King, let alone suggest policies for him to enact. They’re nothing but slaves, subdued by the terror they feel towards this distant, unfeeling brute.”
Dawn waited a little while, to allow Dusk to add to his previous remarks. Then he shouted at the sun:
“No!!!”
This hasty reply, shot into the silence, seemed almost comical. It was forced and painfully abrupt. But it had the desired effect; refocusing the group’s attention.
“No!!!... It’s true: We don’t wish to be consumed by consumption. And it’s true that we don’t wish to be ruled by others. Maybe this is a trap. Maybe it’s not. But we wouldn’t be living in their camp, near any of their Chief Crows. We wouldn’t be living by their rules. We’d have our own land. We’d hold our own meetings, and grow the things we decide to grow… We wouldn’t have to force our children into slavery, or fight our sisters, or be false friends; just to secure this money. We wouldn’t have to succumb to the things this money must surely inspire: The luxury, intrigues, trickery, lies, betrayal and insincerity. The idea of having my things and your things is quite clearly inhuman. This money is quite clearly the most wretched of evils; the tyrant of the Wogies, the bane of the ancestors, and the butchery stone of the living. To imagine that one can live in a land of money and still preserve one’s integrity, is like imagining that one could preserve one’s life at the bottom of a lake... But let it be heard: We wouldn’t have to live in this land of money. We wouldn’t have to obey this Chief King. We could perform our own rituals, and preserve our own culture, so long as we gifted this tithe… Tell them, Sunny: Isn’t that correct?”
Sunny nodded as he spoke:
“It is. This Chief King may be a brute, but he’s far away, on the other side of Mother Nature’s body. He probably doesn’t even know we exist. And whilst the Wogies may welcome Chief Crows into their camps, we could still banish those figures from ours.”
A few of the clan’s younger members responded positively. Buffalo’s eyes even glistened; catching the sun, and reflecting its kaleidoscopic rays. Petal, a young woman who had taken a shine to Sunny, chattered her teeth, as if to nibble his eyebrows.
Like Sunny, these young adults had been impressed by Hunter’s gun, and by the sheer quantity of crops which had appeared in such a short space of time. So long as they could still make group decisions, they saw no reason to reject Hernan’s proposal.
Hence, when Serenity called for a vote, the group was split. Almost all the elders opposed the motion. But Dawn and a few of the youngsters voted in favour.
The clans-folk agreed to revisit the debate the following day. Then they left to search for food.
It was not a successful mission.
They returned without any meat, ate the few greens they had gathered, chatted, and fell into a vacillatory slumber; clutching their stomachs, which shook them awake whenever they fell asleep.
***
Only one person was able to sleep until daybreak: Aura.
It was clear that she had visited another realm. Her eyes had moved in a million directions, traversing the insides of their lids; jolty, frantic and raw. Her teeth would have probably chattered, had they not been so misaligned.
She awoke with a start, bolted upright, scrunched her lips at the moon, and shouted “Hullaballoo!”:
“Hullabaloo! Dawn jiggety! The ancestors have spoken. Prawn tooting shouted at me, all night long. Squawk, squawk, tooting mohawk.”
Sunny had wished to speak himself; to suggest that they visit the clan who had made a deal with the Wogies. But the opportunity had passed. Aura had monopolised the group’s attention; luring them with her eyes, which were pointing in different directions, and with her lyrical half-speak, which was too delicious to resist. Even the infants had gathered at her feet, forming a semi-circle in the starlight-speckled dust.
“Abracadabra, they said. Alakazam! Go get a goat. Go get us a goat. Go! Go now! Go get us a goat! Go to the Dog Clan. Go get us a goat.”
A few of the clans-folk still looked puzzled. If it were that easy, they would have “Gone got a goat” before hunger had hollowed their limbs, and their stomachs had started to rattle.
It was left to Sparrow to clarify the situation:
“So, the ancestors came to you in a dream, demanding that you take a goat from the Dog Clan?”
“Bird tweeting right, they did. What do you think I’ve been jib-jabbering on about all this time? Mountain mist? We’ll only get out of this ziggedy ditch, if we go get that goat, and sacrifice it to the ancestors.”
“Ah. Then we must visit the Dog Clan. We don’t have a choice in the matter.”
***
The clans-folk departed on what was known as a dream quest…
People had been known to travel for days, to turn their dreams into a reality. When they arrived at their destination, their hosts felt duty-bound to hand over whatever was requested. These were not personal petitions. The ancestors had spoken, and their wishes had to be honoured.
Clans had donated their favourite ornaments, crystals and masks; just to help realise a stranger’s dream. One member of their tribe had even parted with their beloved cat, whom they had raised from a kitten, without giving the matter a second thought, or uttering a word of complaint; simply because a distant relative had dreamed that her illness would be cured if she could sleep beside that pet.
Dream quests were a means of exchange. Whoever possessed a desired item, felt obliged to hand it to the dreamer, without expecting anything in return. But that person would almost certainly experience a similar dream, sometime in the future. They would set out on their own journey, arrive at a distant location, and receive something new. Items were passed from one hand to another, in such a manner; they moved across great distances, just as though they had been traded.
But the members of their tribe seldom used such cold, impersonal logic. For them, dream quests were not economic. They were spiritual. The tribes-folk completed these missions to honour their ancestors; their mothers’ mothers’ mothers. They were giving something back to the women who had given them life. It was an honour, not a burden, and not just a means of exchange.
***
Very few people had ever visited the Dog Clan’s camp, and even fewer could remember the route. It fell upon the clan’s two eldest members, Mountain and Setting Sun, to guide the clan along. Those elders assured the group that it was not a particularly difficult journey, but it was rather long. It would take them at least three days. Perhaps it would take five, or maybe even ten. It had been so many solstices since they had last made that pilgrimage, they could not be entirely sure. And anyway, the length of the journey was irrelevant. The clans-folk had to overcome their hunger, and trudge ahead, because the spirits had demanded satisfaction.
Sunny was familiar with almost all the places they visited on the first day: The scrublands, where the sun-baked earth had cracked in several places. The hillocks that framed that wide expanse. The great swoop of canyons, ridges and ravines.
But by the second morning, he was covering new ground.
It was obvious that this land had changed, even though he had never set eyes on it before. Another ancestral forest had succumbed to a similar fate as their own. Rubber trees had usurped the land. A couple of meadows were filled with cotton which was so tall, it hid the new towns which lurked in the distance.
The clans-folk avoided those places, but the message was clear: The scale of the Wogies’ ambitions was far greater than they had supposed. Their progress was far quicker. The Wogies were taking all the fertile land, and all the land near the rivers. They seemed to be avoiding vast regions, but only when the soil was poor; like these drylands, which were home to a smattering of thorny bushes, but very few edible plants, and none of the animals which might have been attracted by such a supply of food.
Still, the clans-folk needed to eat.
For this, they depended upon their eldest members; walking repositories of knowledge, who had lived through hard times, in the aftermath of floods and cyclones, and who could remember the measures their peers had taken to survive.
