Zahrah the Windseeker

  "Where are those who gave birth to you?"

  "Back home."

  "In the human-dwelling city?" the gorilla asked.

  I didn't reply. I'd already spoken too much. It was better if the gorillas thought there were others. But these gorillas weren't stupid.

  "You're the one that the Windseeker was looking for," he said after looking me over.

  "Windseeker?" I said, surprised. "Was her name ... was her name Nsibidi?"

  The gorilla nodded.

  "She's a friend of the idiok," he said. "She's been searching the forests for a human girl. She left here only two days ago."

  "Oh," I said. "Wow."

  "I am Obax, Chief of the Modern People. If you continue to be truthful, then you're among friends," he said, stepping closer to me.

  Obax, I thought. Where have I heard that name? Then I remembered. One of the idiok was named after him. This was Obax, the great gorilla chief.

  Since I knew I was a bad liar, it seemed I had found myself among friends. The minute Obax called out "It is all right," the other gorillas, small and large, young and old, gathered around me.

  "Ododo," Obax said. A slightly smaller gorilla wearing a necklace of yellow, stiff-looking flowers stepped up. "Come and see."

  Ododo looked down at me with her large orange eyes as she leaned on her knuckles.

  "Where does it hurt, child?" Ododo asked in a gruff voice. Ododo's chest was not flat like Obax's. Ododo was female.

  "I-I fell out of that tree," I said pointing upward. "Onto my hip."

  She pushed me a little to the side and I winced, tears watering my eyes.

  "Ah, please," I said, with a pinched face. "Hurts!"

  "I know," Ododo said, continuing to poke and prod the left side of my hip, where the pain was. The pain was so horrible that for a moment I couldn't think. Slowly she helped me sit up, and the burning subsided a little. Another gorilla stood behind me so I could lean back. I could feel the gorilla's fur on my neck, soft and thick. Then Ododo slowly straightened my left leg and I screamed in pain.

  "Elu," Ododo said to a stocky male gorilla. "Come and carry her."

  Elu knelt next to me, and Ododo helped me get onto Elu's back, my arms wrapped around his furry neck. He smelled of flowers and lemongrass. My hip ached even as he carried me.

  "Misty can fix her," Ododo said to Obax.

  "Yes," he said with a nod. At that moment, there must have been an unspoken consent from Obax for the others to satisfy their curiosity because suddenly they all crowded in on me. I wasn't scared. I'd been alone for two weeks, and it felt good to be around people. The younger ones rose on their hind legs to sniff at my shirt as Elu carried me, and some of them tugged at my satchel and bundle, which Ododo was carrying. They tapped at the broken mirrors in my pants and the collar of my shirt, their furry arms tickling my skin. They chattered as they examined me.

  "What is in this?" one woman gorilla asked, tugging at my satchel.

  "My things," I said.

  "Smells like mangoes," another woman gorilla said.

  "Yes, I have three of them in there to eat," I said.

  "Why is your body cloth jewelry so dirty?" a man gorilla asked with a frown.

  "Huh?" I asked. "Body cloth jewelry? What's that?"

  The man gorilla frowned and tugged at my clothes. "These."

  "Oh," I sard with a laugh. "My clothes. Um, these are all I have."

  As they examined me, I looked closely at their fur. It was fluffy and clean; not even a leaf or nettle clung to it. And they each wore various kinds of jewelry. Some wore necklaces made from clamshells, others wore colorful stones, still others decorated themselves with flowers and pieces of cloth.

  Eventually Obax held up a shaky arm, and everyone began forming a line. Elu got in line just behind him.

  "Thankyou, Elu," I said. He only grunted as he carried me. I looked back at Ododo. "Thank you, too, Ododo."

  She nodded, bringing her right arm up and holding it at her breast with her pinky out.

  I moved west instead of north for the first time since I'd entered the jungle. The pace was slow, and each step that Elu took bumped my hip, making me grit my teeth. There were about fifteen gorillas behind me; many of them carried baskets on their heads filled with various fruits. The moment the compass in my pocket sensed my moving in a direction other than north, it clicked itself on.

  "Zahrah," it said, sounding very alarmed. "You're moving off course, my dear."

  I reached into my pocket and pressed the button on the side to turn it off. It switched itself back on.

  "This is not the way you are supposed to go!" it said, frantic. "You are going west, not north!"

  Elu grunted with annoyance. Obax glanced over his shoulder.

  "You people," he said. "Always with your gadgets."

  "Well, it kind of helps me get to where I need to go," I said, taking the compass out of my pocket. "Compass," I said to it. "There has been a slight change of plan. The plan is still to head north, but not at this moment."

  "Oh, really? Why didn't you tell me immediately? Well, then let me make a few adjustments," the compass said. "You had me really worried there."

  "It doesn't like change very much," I said to Obax. Obax only grunted.

  We were moving uphill along the first path I had seen since entering the forest. It was wide and flat.

  "And you feel you cannot function without these ... items?" Obax asked. I had fallen into the lull of the pace, making an effort to ignore the pain in my hip and listening to the chatter behind me of the other gorillas about the night's meal, the season's harvest, arguments with "life mates," and a sister's new baby. I heard Obax's words with only half an ear.

  "Huh?" I asked.

  "Do you really need that thing?"

  "Oh," I said. "Oh yes. Without it, I can't find my way home."

  "You may know more than you give yourself credit for, Zahrah," he said.

  "Maybe," I said with a smirk.

  Then I went on to tell Obax why I was trekking through the jungle. I told him about Dari, how it was my fault that he was bitten, how I was on a mission to find an elgort egg, and how when I found it, I had to get home as soon as possible. When I was finished, Obax nodded.

  "You're a very ambitious girl, even if your ambitions are impos—um, that is impractical," said Obax. "You're lucky we were the ones to find you."

  We traveled for what felt like an hour, and I watched their village open before me. The sun was beginning to set and I was incapable of getting around by myself, but I felt completely safe. Many complex two-story mud brick houses were built around the trunks of trees. Their roofs were flat, and artistic designs were carved into their outer walls.

  The gorillas were land people. They were not built to roam the treetops with their stocky strong bodies, long arms, and short legs. I saw light in the windows, but it didn't look like plant-powered light. It looked like candlelight. My father often told Dari and me about the time his great-grandmother was just a little girl, decades and decades ago, before plant-powered lights like glow lilies and light bulbs were discovered on the northeast side of the Ooni Kingdom. Dari was always more interested than I was.

  "There was plenty of technology back then," I remember my father saying. "Of course we had the plant towers. I don't know anyone who remembers when we didn't. We had netevision and cars and the like. But it took the great fire to get scientists searching for something safer for light.

  "People used items called candle-sticks made of wax with a little piece of string in the center that you lit afire. They used to cause all sorts of fires. The worst was the Great Blaze of Chukwutown. It burned down a large portion of the southwest and cleared the way for what eventually became the Great Ooni Marketplace."

  But it wasn't just the fact that these people didn't use plant-powered light. There was no technology at all there.

  "If it's not rude to ask," I cautiously said. "You're the chief, so why do you come and pick fruit and things with
your people?"

  I couldn't imagine Papa Grip going to the farms and helping in the harvest of palm kernels and lychee fruit. And Chief Obax looked as if such a thing was hard on his body.

  Obax laughed.

  "I needed some fresh air," he said. "My body may shake and my balance may be bad, but I am not an invalid."

  Chapter 21

  Misty

  Along the way to Misty's home, I was introduced to the whole gorilla village and offered several cups of sweet, perfumy liquid that burned my throat. It was something I doubted my parents would have let me drink. But my parents had also taught me that it was polite to take a little of what people offered when you were a guest. The sweet liquid was yummy, and I couldn't help but take a little guilty pleasure in sipping cup after cup. It made my head swim, and the pain in my leg seemed disconnected from my body.

  By the time we got to Misty's hut, I had a silly grin on my face and was glad Elu was carrying me. Misty was an old woman with thick white fur. Obax told me that she was the oldest gorilla in the village, and thus even he had to seek her counsel, especially when it came to governing the village. Her husband was long dead, and her live sons and three daughters were grown with grandchildren of their own.

  However, Misty still lived in the same, rather large mud brick hut built around the trunk of a slender palm tree. She had plenty of room for me. I noticed that many different types of leafy plants, small trees, and colorful flowers surrounded her house, unlike the others. Bees, butterflies, and beetles buzzed and crawled from flower to flower, and the air smelled sweet, bitter, and oily. Maybe one of the bees was even from that wood wit's colony, I thought with a grin. After bending down and touching Chief Obax's feet, Misty turned to me.

  "You're a scrawny little human, aren't you?" she said, pinching my arm. She wore tiny red shells around her neck, and her ankles clicked when she moved.

  "I guess so," I said.

  "This is Zahrah. She's a human ... from the Ooni Kingdom, of course. "

  "Of course," Misty said with a smirk.

  "She's injured. You can help?"

  Misty looked at me for a long time with her head cocked. Then she said, "Maybe." She stepped closer. "Where are the rest of your people? You're only a child."

  "I'm alone."

  "How long have you been among the trees?" Misty asked.

  "About two weeks," I said. Misty's eyes grew wide.

  "Two weeks?!" she said. "You?"

  I nodded.

  "Hmm, you must be stronger than you seem," Misty said, looking impressed.

  "Will you help her heal?" Obax asked again.

  "What are those on your head?" Misty asked.

  "My head?" I said. I patted my head with my free hand to see if something was there.

  "Yes. Is that your hair?" she asked.

  I rolled my eyes at the familiar question. Even all the way out there in the Greeny Jungle I was asked about my hair!

  "Oh, these," I said, taking a dadalock in my hand. "It's my hair, yes. I was born with them like this; they just grow this way."

  "You are dada," Misty said.

  I blinked. Gorillas know about dada hair? I thought.

  "Can you fly? Some of you dada people can fly. I remember," Misty said. "Used to see them sometimes, when I was very, very young. The one who came here recently was the first I've seen in decades."

  "Misty," Obax said firmly, slightly annoyed. "It grows late."

  Misty paused again.

  "Of course I can heal her," she finally said. "It's a sprain."

  "Good," Obax said. "I leave her to you, then."

  He turned and left.

  "Follow me," Misty said to Elu.

  Inside, plants grew all around the windowsill in large and small pots, some creeping along the walls, others reaching the ceiling or even going out the windows. There were no chairs, but many large stuffed yellow, green, and orange cushions were on the floor and low tables.

  "Put her down here," she said, motioning toward a cluster of pillows.

  Elu delicately put me on the cushions. Then he stood up, stretched his back, and sighed with relief.

  "Thank you so much," I said with a grin. "I'm sure you're glad to be rid of me."

  Elu nodded. "Yes, I am," he said, bringing his right arm up and holding it at his breast with his pinky out. He touched my head and then left.

  The cushions were hard but comfortable. I leaned against the wall and let out a breath of relief, despite my pain. If my parents had a magical ball that would show them exactly where I am at this moment, they wouldn't believe it, I thought. I barely believed it myself. I could hear Misty outside moving about, then she came back inside and I heard the clinking of pottery.

  Minutes later, she returned carrying a bowl with some minty-smelling green-gray paste in it. She put the bowl in front of me and left again. When she returned, she was walking fast toward me. Before I knew what was going on, she walked right up to me and stuck three needlelike sticks into my forehead! And I do not mean into my skin. The sticks had to have gone through my skull!

  "Ah!" I shouted, but just sat there with wide eyes.

  "Relax," she said.

  "But you ... what have you ... is this some sort of..." I tapered off. "Oh!" I said softly. The pain in my hip was seeping away like air from the air-bulb vines Dari and I used to like popping and chewing on when we were young.

  "W-w-w-why didn't you at least w-warn me?" I babbled.

  "Would you really have wanted to be told before I did it?" Misty asked with a chuckle. "Leave them there. They will work themselves out in a few hours. In the meantime, you'll be relieved of the pain. "

  I could only stare at her in disbelief.

  "Now take those pants off and let me apply this cooling salve to the wound," she said. "You'll be fine in a few days."

  She let me choose the room I wanted to stay in. I chose the smallest one. It reminded me of my small room back home. When my parents and I first moved into the house years ago, I was given the chance to choose between the large room close to the kitchen and the small room close to my parents' room. I chose the smaller room because I'd always liked small spaces. I felt more in control of a small space than a large one. This time I'd have been fine in a large room. I was now used to not being in control. It was just that I liked the homey feeling this one had.

  Everything in the room was made of a light-colored shiny wood from ceiling to floor. The room was bare, decorated only by two very low wicker chairs with yellow cushions and a painting of three black-haired gorillas on the wall. There were no mirrors on the walls, but that wasn't such a big deal. I hadn't been around mirrors for a while, other than the ones on my dirty clothes, which were now cracked and chipped. Large candles were in every corner, giving the room a calm feel. I'm going to like it here, I thought. As long cut I don't knock any candles over.

  "My youngest daughter loved this room," Misty said. "It's the only room in the house that catches a lot of sunlight. When morning comes it's absolutely lovely in here."

  I set my bundle and satchel down and sat on the bed. I leaned away from my sprained hip. It felt inflated but numb, like it was two sizes too big. I was thankful for the soft mattress, which was filled with leaves that crunched under my weight. After so many nights of sleeping on hard tree branches, the bed felt unreal. Misty stood in the doorway getting a good look at me in the candlelight.

  "How long have you been in that body cloth jewelry?" Misty asked.

  I looked at my tattered, dirty, long shirt. I held the pants, as I had taken them off so she could put the salve on my wound. Dari's clothes. I shrugged and said, "Since I started my journey."

  Misty sucked her teeth.

  "I will sew you some new ones," she said. "As you can see, we don't wear such things here. We don't need to because we have fur. But I can use the ones you wear to produce new ones; some friends of mine can help me, too. Those are practically rotting on you."

  I looked down at my clothes again.
br />   "These are my best friend's clothes. That's what we call them, clothes," I said. I knew I sounded whiny, but I couldn't help it. "He's sick and I'm searching for the cure to make him better. I-I can't part with them."

  "Oh," Misty said.

  We were both silent for a moment.

  "If you don't stay healthy, then you won't be able to do what you have to do," Misty said quietly. "Those clothes you wear are too dirty; they may eventually make you sick. And I'm sure your friend will not care what you wear when you return to him. "

  I knew she was right. They were just clothes. But they were all I had of Dari. Misty seemed to read my mind.

  "You have more of your friend with you than those clothes, much more." She placed her hand on my forehead. "You have memories of him, and those are far more valuable. I'll be right back."

  When Misty left the room, I looked out the window. It was difficult to tell the men from the women, for I'd been around the gorillas for only a few hours, and to my eyes, they all looked the same. Both men and women wore jewelry and were about the same in height and strength. It was a different culture, and I knew not to apply my own cultural norms to theirs. The only ways I could tell were by their chests and sometimes voices. The women had breasts and slightly higher voices. The children all looked and sounded the same. Nevertheless, from what I could see, I had to admit that there were many more similarities between my town and the gorilla village than differences.

  The sun was almost gone and people were winding down for the night. Some people chatted with friends. A group was talking loudly as it shared some sort of drink. Someone stood behind his house, taking down dried laundry. A gorilla walked by with a bundle of twigs on her shoulder. They probably have a market here, too, I thought.

  Even without technology, the gorilla village reminded me of home. I tugged at my shirt, feeling how much I missed Dari. I also missed cars, the loudness of the market, and the company of others. I missed cooked food, running water, and of course my parents.

  "Here," Misty said. "Take those off and wrap this around you for now. "

  I slowly took the colorful orange, yellow, and red cloth. It was silky and thin, very pretty, like a piece of sunset.