"Alsoomse and Wanchese" Scenes

Chapter 8, Pages 77-80

 

Granganimeo’s wife Hurit, standing a canoe’s length away in the village lane, was staring at them. She approached.

“Weroansqua,” Sokanon greeted.

Instantly, Alsoomse rose. The back of her left hand covering her mouth, she faced about.

“Sokanon. Alsoomse. You are teaching these children well.” Hurit looked at Wapun and Pules, who were watching her with large eyes. “Is that not so?” she said to them.

“Yes, Weroansqua, they are very good,” Wapun answered.

Pules nodded vigorously.

“I am pleased.” Hurit looked at Alsoomse, then Sokanon. “I have a duty I want you to perform.”

Sokanon’s eyes flitted.

I want both of you to accompany me to Croatoan, tomorrow. To serve me. Together with Allawa, and two other young women.”

Alsoomse’s cheekbones tingled. Her arms felt the rush of adrenaline.

She had expected criticism.

“Both of you appear surprised.” Hurit’s amused smile enhanced her unaffected beauty.

“Weroansqua, we will serve you well,” Sokanon answered.

Hurit nodded. Her face hardened.

“You should know that Croatoan’s weroansqua has asked me to attend a meeting she is to have with Piemacum’s important men, believing, we suspect, that Piemacum wants her to submit herself and her people to his authority.”

Alsoomse felt a second surge of adrenaline. Quick to exhibit temper, her face burned.

The Croatoan were gentle people! Her father Matunaagd had said so, often! For some time now they had been led by a woman, which explained, probably, their peaceful manner. A thought occurred to her. “Weroansqua,” she said, “I believe I know her purpose.”

“Which is …?”

“Your presence will answer Piemacum’s question without the weroansqua needing to give it.”

Hurit nodded, a slow backward and forward acknowledgment. “You are perceptive, Alsoomse. You are your father and mother’s daughter.” She paused, looked at Alsoomse soberly. “But in other ways you are not nearly so. You disturb me.”

Alsoomse’s face blanched.

Sokanon interrupted. “Is Granganimeo to accompany us?”

What other ways? Alsoomse thought.

“No, Sokanon. His or Wingina’s presence would cause a fight.” Hurit’s face softened. “I am to go alone. Men do not usually fight women.”

“We leave then … when?”

“Immediately after the casting of tobacco. Several of our men will take us there in two canoes. They will not be men of high station.” For the first time Hurit looked at Nuna and Odina. “I will need Machk to be one of them. Please tell him.”

“I will, weroansqua,” Nuna responded.

Sokanon made a small hand gesture. Hurit raised her eyebrows. “I will need somebody to look after my mother. She is not strong.” Her face apologized.

“I am certain one of your friends here will do that.”

Simultaneously, Nuna and Odina nodded.

“Then everything is arranged.” Hurit turned, took two steps toward the lane, and stopped. Pivoting, she regarded Alsoomse. “One other matter.” Her eyes examined the length of Alsoomse’s body. “I expect you, Alsoomse, to show your high station the entire time we are there. That means necklaces, Alsoomse. Bracelets. Beads hanging from your ears. You will be representing this village, not yourself. Do you have them?”

“Yes.”

“I should not have to ask.”

“No.” Here was the expected criticism. She felt the start of a second burn.

Hurit studied her, too lengthily.

The burn reached Alsoomse’s ears.

“Why do you do this? Are you not proud of your parents’ standing?” Hurit looked at Alsoomse’s legs. “No tattoos, not even on your calves. Your cousin has them” – she pointed – “there, and there, and on her arms. She wears a nice shell necklace. Polished bones hang from her ears. Every day. Why must you be so different?”

She wants to know; I will tell her!

“We are different people.”

“That is obvious.”

“I love my cousin.” Alsoomse’s eyes combatted Hurit’s sarcasm. “I respect her for who she is. It is not because she is my cousin or she is the daughter of parents of high station. It is because of who she is.”

“We all judge people that way.”

“I know some who do not. Also, some people of high station expect to be treated well but do not deserve it.” She was thinking of Askook.

Hurit’s left index finger touched the outer side of her left breast. Her fingers curled, became a fist. “Are you saying that people who are leaders, who take responsibility for the welfare of their followers, should not be treated with respect?”

“No, weroansqua, I do not.” Both sides of her face were hot. “I am saying that people like me born into high station should have to earn respect, not demand it. That is why I live here, outside the gate to the compound. I do not want anyone to believe I demand respect.”

Alsoomse moved her right foot forward, traced a line in the sandy earth. “I believe also that people not born of high station deserving respect should receive it.”

Fists pressed against her sides, Hurit studied her. “You are outspoken in your beliefs.”

“I spoke them because you asked.”

The flesh beneath her chin stretched, Alsoomse maintained eye contact. Peripherally, Odina and Nuna were figures of stone.

Hurit’s irises remained centered. “You should know, Alsoomse, that there are people in this village, and at Dasemunkepeuc, who believe that you are dangerous. Strong-headed dangerous. My husband has spoken of it. Our kwiocosuk has spoken of it. You risk punishment, from Kiwasa, from your leaders. I will expect you to keep your thoughts to yourself while we are at Croatoan. I have … tolerated your independence, until now. I must be certain that you will say or do nothing to damage our purpose.” Her eyes bored.

“Your answer?”

She would be truthful, not weak. “I respect you and all of our leaders. I will do nothing to hurt our people.”

“You will wear ornaments that signify your station?”

Alsoomse hesitated. “Yes, weroansqua, I will.”