These Are the Stories of My Father

"Tell me the story of my father and the bear, NiNu!" the little girl pleaded.

The old woman stopped pounding the corn and looked up from her task.  Her granddaughter squatted next to her, balanced effortlessly on her toes, her long lankly arms wrapped around her knees.  It was a pose only the very young could hold.  Ninu clucked her tongue and flapped her hand as if brushing away a fly.

"Not now, little one, I am busy with my task.  You have heard that story often enough."

But the little fly would not be so easily scared off.

"Please Ninu!  Please?  Pleeeeeze?"

The grandmother sighed and straightened her back.  Her long grey braids were flicked over her shoulder and she squinted at the small form beside her.  Tecumla was all big dark eyes and eager smile.  It was a look that could melt any heart.  And it did.  The old woman grinned back into that little face with more gum than teeth but the resemblance was clear in the gleam in both sets of eyes.

"Well, let me see," Ninu began, musing to herself, "how did that story begin again?"

The little one knew her line and quickly pipped up, "Father went deep into the forest to find a deer."

"Yes, that's right my child.  Your father was the bravest warrior of our tribe and it had been four long weeks without meat.  So, your father set off, deep into the woods of Sethnoa, looking for meat for his new woman.  You have heard of the woods of Sethnoa, yes?"

"Tell me again!" came the gleeful cry.

"The woods of Sethnoa are sacred," the grandmother intoned,  "the great Father, Ra-Nu, has claimed them for His own.  It was forbidden for any to enter His forest.  Many had tried but none had returned.  All know that the woods are full of fat, sleek deer and plump sweet rabbit.  The tora roots grow plentiful by the clear streams and the kokoa birds sing their songs deep in their plump breasts.  It was a forest of plenty.  But of dangers unknown."

"But father wasn't afraid!" Tecumla declared, bouncing on her toes in her excitement.

"No, child,  your father was many things, but a man of fear he was not.  He set off on the first day of the full moon taking with him his best bow and arrow and his bravest warrior dog, Nilu.  He left when the moon first crested the western hill and planned to return in three days.  Well, those three days were long and hard for your mother.  Every evening as the moon rose, she would watch the hills that marked the edge of the Sethnoa forest.  But each day, the forest remained still.  Your father did not return."

"Were you scared, too, Ninu?" Tecumla asked.

"Psh.  No. I knew your father.  I had raised him myself remember.  I knew if anyone could trick old Ra-Nu, your father would be the one.  He could talk honey from a bee hive and tickle fish into his hands.  He was a rascal, your father.  Just like you."

The old woman reached out and pinched the pert nose before her and then smoothed the thick black hair.  Her eyes grew distant and she sat silent.

"Ninu, tell the rest!" the child chided.  "Tell the rest of my father's story" she demanded, impatiently shrugging off the caressing hand.

It was all she knew.  These stories of the father who had died when she was little.  She treasured each one like it was a rare bear's tooth and acted each adventure out in her head every night before she feel asleep.  Her father was a great warrior.  She would be one too.  Someday, perhaps, she might even match wits with Ra-Nu as her father had. Perhaps she too would emerge, exhausted and pummeled, with a large carcass strung over one shoulder, a set of gleaming new bear claws strung about her neck, and that same rascal grin across her face.