"Alsoomse and Wanchese" Scenes

Chapter 18, Pages 177-179

Abukcheech and Alsoomse were suddenly alone.

She looked at him. He was as unattractive as she remembered. Yet he stimulated her mind.

He smiled. “I will be doing all the talking. Neither you nor I will like that. I want to know your thoughts.”

She blinked.

“Ah. That is how we will communicate? One blink means ‘yes.’ Two blinks mean ‘no.’”

Alsoomse moved her left hand.

He squinted. She moved the hand again, frowned, immediately winced.

“Does that mean ‘no’?”

She moved her right hand.

“Right hand means ‘yes’; left hand means ‘no’?”

She moved her right hand.

“Then I will begin.”

He rubbed his left cheekbone, withdrew his left forefinger, looked at it, afterward grimaced. “Strange. Sometimes the body does something intentional the mind does not order, or does not know it has ordered. I look at you, I see the damage, and my finger goes to that place on my cheek.”

She blinked. She wondered if her eyes were betraying her thoughts.

“I witnessed what happened. I asked later why it happened. Therefore, I know certain things.” Seated on the upended, thick block of wood that Sokanon had occupied, Abukcheech placed the palms of his hands over his bony knees. “My first question is, ‘Do you regret what happened?’”

Alsoomse felt her eyes jump. She looked inwardly.

Two women conversing passed by the nearest wall.

He awaited her answer. Which was it? She moved her right hand.

He nodded. He closed his legs, scratched awkwardly the left side of his head. “You had to think.” He leaned forward. “Why?”

She frowned, moved her left hand.

“No, you have to answer. It is important to know.”

She stared at him, her lips tight.

“I told you when we spoke before that you wanted to be a man.” His right thumb and forefinger rubbed the sides of his jaw. “He hit you. He did not kill you. Are you glad now that you are not a man?”

What was this weak little man’s message?

“Do you regret speaking like a man because of this injury?”

Of course! She moved her right hand.

“But you have other reasons, I think.” He looked at his active forefinger, curled it, looked at her. “Because you did, you caused other people injury, hardship.”

She blinked, closed her eyes, moved the hand.

“Then maybe you have learned that freedom to speak, or act, requires self-discipline. Perhaps you have learned that what you do affects others. Nobody is really independent.” He gazed at her.

Who was he to judge?

“A wise man knows that. A true woman knows that.”

She resented his superiority.

“A good woman helps her man become wise.”

A “good” woman cannot oppose injustice?

“Your eyes tell me you want vengeance.”

She scowled, jerked her right hand.

“How can you take vengeance without risking or burdening other people?”

She had no answer.

“I believe it is better to be good to people you care about and to accept what you cannot control.”

Is that what he thought he was doing with her? All the while adding wood to her anger?

“I have talked enough.”

She closed her eyes. She recalled Sunukkuhkau’s ferocious face.

“I will stay here until your cousin returns.”

Do as you wish.