SHORT STORY

Jeslly N. Louis

Miami, FL 33168

E-Mail: jesllylouis22@gmail.com

All Rights Reserved. Copyright © 2021 Jeslly N. Louis

HUNTING

The strong wind of the North is coming, Corner and his father prepare for the day ahead. Living in the vast valley of the Great Plains, where the mountains touch the sky, where the sun rises, where the moon falls, the stars light the sky like fading fireworks. The smell of fresh mud says good morning every day, the sound of the passing buffalo tribes shakes the ground to his core, the single eagle mother zooming across the sky. The plains were nothing like the city it was all new to me. Father told me that when you are home your ancestors will protect you.

“AHH!”

I woke up to the sudden scream of my mother, I rushed out of bed, running towards the door grabbing the knife my grandfather made for me before he passed away only to find a horror movie on our farm. The smell of blood feels the air, the river turns red, the wind is strong, chaotic, violent, and dry. All our crops were gone, our farm animals slaughter there was nothing left. Mother cried on father's shoulder, and he stood there not knowing what to do. “Everything is gone, how are we going to survive the coming winter?” he questioned himself. Raising his arms to the sky “why God, Why God!” he tumbles on the ground, still holding mother tightly to his chest.

I looked over to my right and my left, there was nothing. I walk inside our stables the horses were lying dead on the ground. I walked outside to the chicken pen all lying in a puddle of red water, the eggs splattered on the ground. I ran behind the shed, hoping to find one pork at least alive, there was nothing, nothing at all just red mud. The cows who were the strongest of all animals upon inspection one of them was missing two limbs, the others missing ahead or their inside. I did not know what to do or think, everything is gone I said to myself. Once I got home, I found my father in the shed counting grains and whatnot, sighing loudly, mother sitting on the front porch breastfeeding Tala, Tama next to her throwing a tantrum, Tangakwunu, and Tawa looking at the horror ahead of them. How will we survive in a family of seven for winter that will last one year?

Later that night the household was calm as the ocean. Father burn the corpses since they were infected. Mother had to rationalize every grain in the shed so it will last a little longer. I did not eat anything that day. Father and I talk, and we were determined to catch whatever animal that cause this disaster. We’ve set up traps and bait along the shoreline of the river and the forest. As the lights dim and silence falls, the hunt started.

One hour… Two hours… Three hours…silence. I have started to give up but then smoke rises in the sky miles away from us. The tribes that were there always had some festivities going on, we did not think much of it at the time. Four hours… After five hours my eyes grow heavier by the seconds, my legs hurt. I started to doze off, then all of the sudden. ZAP! CLICK! The sound of the strings attached breaking. I kneeled next to my father, very attentive. Then out of nowhere, he jumped ahead showing his teeth to us, saliva coming down his chin, I have never met a beast like him in the Great Plains. I have been living here for thirteen years of my life, I have hunted every single inch of this region, seen every animal, from the smallest venous snake to the big buffalos. I have riding horse Mary far from home, and not one day did I ever encounter their tribe. He looks scary, his teeth are sharper than my father's ax, he was bold, strong, and muscular. Hiding in the grass he was unable to recognize us in the dead of the night, went his way. Father was terrified by the strange encounter. “What his one of his kind living here, where does he come from?” he mumbles in terror. The next morning, we told mother about the beast. She was as terrified as us, she shakes in fear. Father was not letting him out of the leash.

He presses his fist hard on the wooden table “ Tocho, get the gear in the shed we are going to hunt this beast out of here?” he said with confidence.

“Don’t do any rash without thinking you hear me!” mother screamed at him. “who is going to help me take care of the kids if that beast kills you?”

“Well, I can’t just sit here and do nothing, what if…” he trembles in fear “what if he attacks one of the kids, what am I going to do,” he said with a tear in his eyes. “I have to do this” with confidence.

That afternoon father and I went out to the jungle with everything we needed. Mother made food and water for us for the way. We camp near the river which water still runs red. The night was peaceful, the wind was calm, dry, and fragile. The moon serves us as light. Father went to sleep, I sat there thinking where that beast come from, what its purposes. If we don’t kill him within the time we have, I am afraid for the well-being of my family. There are exactly eight months left before the big winter comes. The next morning, we set out for west along the shoreline of the river. As we get closer, everything seems strange, there was no sound at all. Two kilometers away from the Omada tribe, yet there is no sign of activities. I get off my horse and walk closer to one of the tents. There was smoke everywhere, blood splattered on the muddy walls, children’s bodies were lying on the floor. No sign of life, what happened here? All of a sudden dad scream out my name. We left in a hurry.

One month, he has arrived near the Kolohah tribe hoping we can find help there. But it was different, there was no one from the tribe, but English men.

“Father, what happens to the tribe people, why are the whites here?” I whipper to him

“Tocho open your eyes don’t you see we are at war”

Two months have gone by, still no sign of any tribe, just English men. They were everywhere. They’ve hunted all the buffalo. At this point, there was nothing left for us to do. Unless we were to disguise ourselves as one of them, find materials, return home. I told father about it, there was nothing we can do at the moment this is our only chance. We have found some clothes in disguise. Putting them on my body feels wrong, it feels as if I was letting my ancestors down. They have hunted us like dogs, killed us, and now I must side with them. This is the worst thing ever. What the heck no matter what I must save my family.

“Hey, you coming there is none of them there, don’t worry these redskins are gone now,” he said to me.

My blood boils, I clenched my fist as tightly as possible “these redskins” I said angrily.

“wow, wow, calm down dude, there is nothing wrong with that, anyways they were good for nothing.” He replied slurping down his beer. Right at this moment I wanted to strangle him to death, I was angry. My father put his hand on my shoulder and said “come on son, let’s get some sleep for the night” he smiles. Hi, the accent was different; he talks just like them. “ yeah you should listen to your daddy, boy we have a long day ahead of us tomorrow.” The white man said.

Father look up and down, left to right as if he was checking for something, he let out a little laugh. “where exactly are we heading tomorrow, mate?” he said with confidence.

“Aahh, Kansas” he gulps down the beer down his throat. “I hear there is a fight going on over there, you know, with the whole slavery thing.”

“slavery?” dad questioned.

“Yeah, one of the senators, overturn the compromise of 1850, now they are at war, proslavery vs abolitionist.”

“why go there, if there is a fight?” Dad added

“Naw, us, we don’t care about none of that we just want the land to cultivate and climb up the social ladder.”

Their conversation went back and forth. The fire was cracking, the trees speaking amongst themselves. The people chattering, laughing, drinking, just having a good time. It took us exactly one week to get to Kansas. When we arrived, the city was in chaos. Nothing was left, just smoke in the sky. We parted ways with the group of people we were with or the nomad as they called themselves. Father and I decided to go south. It has been four months now since we left home. I was wondering how the mother was holding up with the kids. We left all the traps just in case the beast will come by. As we walked further and further, I have seen something that I had never been taught was true. They were blacks all of them hang on a tree, people just walk by looking at them, others picked up a rock and throw it at them, even though they were already dead.

I have been taught below us the people lived a happy life. There was no sorrow, sometimes they don’t even have to hunt for food they brought everything in the mar...market…pace. I guess it was not true, if you are not from their tribe, they will treat you like an outcast. I guess that is what happens to those black people. Meanwhile, it started to get dark we found a nearby bridge and make camp for the night. Before I close my eyes, I heard a group of people talking about a raid. I listen closely, they were raiding a fort, where the government keeps guns and gun powder, and there we can find seed for plantation.

Father looks up to me and asks, “what is gun and gun powder?”

“I guess they are similar to ropes, spears, and arrows” I shrugged.

“I don’t care what they are as long as it is useful to us, we have to get them and go back home.” He whispered to me in our native language.

We made a plan to follow the men tomorrow morning. It has been exactly four months and one day since I last saw the mother. I miss the smell of fresh mud after the rain, the sound of the north wind bringing home good and bad news. I miss running with the buffalo tribes where the wind will harmonize with my hair, I miss Tangakwunu and Tawa stories even if I don’t understand one word coming out of their mouth. I missed home.

The next morning, we followed the men to the fort. I was well guarded, with steel doors and big walls made of clay. The man launched an attack. Since there were many of them, we were able to squeeze through. Within the crowd I lost sight of my father, I couldn’t see him at all. One of the guards charges at me, without thinking, I picked one of the chains on the ground, throw it like creating a lasso, launched it at him strangling him to death. I took out my knife, stabbed the other ones, dodge every punch coming my way. Standing in the middle of dead bodies, covered with blood, I witness my dad getting backstabbed. I ran to him as fast as the wind, screaming on top of my lungs, jumping as high as the eagle, plunging my knife right in the middle of the enemy skull. I look at my father who was struggling with his wound.

“Tocho…” blood spit out of his mouth.

“Father doesn’t talk I will go and get help,” I said with tears in my eyes.

He holds my arm tightly “Tocho listen to me, no matter what happens to me you must go back to your mother and take care of the family.”

“No, dad we… we will do it together, do you hear me?” I cried to him.

“Tocho, father will always love you; you must go back…...”

There it was his body lying in my arms. That was father's last breath. I cry I wept; I scream. Nothing changes. Out of anger, I went inside the fort taking as many things with me as possible. I loaded everything in the carriage, including Father's body. I road as far north as possible. Between the night and the late morning, I arrived in the Great Plains. Deep within his core, there I buried him. He was truly gone. What am I going to tell mother? I was lost, desperate. I did not think much. I was walking, but not walking. Father was gone forever.

Five months, I finally arrive home. Mother rushed out the door to greet us, but only to find me. She hugged me, look around and ask, “where is your father Tocho?”

Hearing her voice asking me for him, tear started to fall from my eyes “Father… Father” I fall my knees, holding my mother's hands. “they kill him!” I screamed, “mother the whites kill him, he is gone.”

She let go of my arms, shaking her no “no, no, no I won't believe it.”

My brothers were just standing there asking themselves should they cry or not. My mother falls to the ground with a tear in her eyes. She wept like a child. My brothers started crying then later comes the baby. Just watching them, my heart hurt. I pitied Tala the most, as a baby she won't have any memories of her father. She will grow up not knowing what he looks like, sounds like, feels like. She won't have any memories of his smile. Mother was strong, all though she was weeping like a baby, she was courageous. Giving birth to us was not easy at all.

Three weeks have passed no sign of the best, neither he has come during that time. I have help around the house more than usual. With father gone all his responsibilities fall on me. I farmed, mother was able to get two cows who were wondering, the female was pregnant at the time. The seed I took from the fort, we planted. God was on our side, the rain comes, the sun was there, the crops grew beautifully. Tonight, while preparing for bed, in the corner of my eyes, I saw him wandering around looking all majestic. I think back at the words father said to me. I grab the nearest gun and my knife and went outside. My brother followed behind me, begging me to come. I had no choice; it is not like I couldn't shake him off. In the dead of the night, following his paw print freshly made in the mud, I found his nest. He sat there, looking at the moon. I turned to my brother and said “Tangakwunu what makes the lion the king of the jungle?”