7
Every seven years at around the time of the winter solstice, the four tribes of North American yetis gather. A Gather lasts three days, and each of the tribes has a duty to perform. That year’s Gather was in northern California, just south of the Oregon state line, at a sudden clearing in an immense evergreen forest, bordered on one side by a cliff and opening on the other side to an impressive view of snowy peaks in the distance. The clearing was a bit more than two miles across at its widest point, and there was a rocky mound at its center that was perfect for a yeti speaker to be seen by many viewers.
Mawei arrived just before dawn and began looking for her mother. Fog was rising thick off the cold ground and there were yetis in pairs and small groups making their way toward the clearing or standing around talking. The sense of anticipation was growing with the lightening of the sky. Mawei finally spotted the familiar shape of her mother’s posture in the haze. She was in conversation with Mawei’s aunt Weseil and two night-yetis she didn’t recognize. She showed her dissatisfaction with her daughter in her posture as Mawei approached. “Why are you just arriving now?” She asked. “And look at you -you look like you’ve been running all night. What distracted you this time? Did you get in an argument with a cloud?”
“No mama,” Mawei said, “I got a bit off track and had to go miles out of my way to avoid a human village.”
Mawei’s mother leaned toward her and they touched noses. “And when did you see your uncle Rei?” She asked.
“Two days ago.” Mawei said. She was surprised that her mother could still smell Rei after so long. “He was wearing a strange-smelling lump on his back that he took from the humans -a device for carrying food.” Mawei brought this up in case her mother could also smell the child, maybe she would think it was Rei’s lump that she smelled.
“And was he alone?”
“Yes mama, why?”
“Rachiel’s niece said she passed him in the hills on the other side of the west mountain range, and that he was with a human.” She said. “Everyone is talking about it.”
“No mama, he had a human device for carrying objects, that’s all. It’s a lump that he carries on his back.”
“Who could mistake a lump for a human?” She said. “I’m afraid your uncle might’ve gotten himself in real trouble this time.”
“Wait a minute,” Mawei’s aunt Weseil said, “we’re talking about Rachiel’s niece Bobber? Everybody knows she’s a trouble-maker. This might be some sort of hateful lie. You know how that family feels about humans, and Rei is giving his report tomorrow. She’s probably trying to discredit him before he speaks. It’s exactly the sort of thing she would do.”
“Maybe,” Mawei’s mother said. She sniffed at the air for a sign of her brother.
Mawei did her best to appear innocent but she was afraid she wasn’t very convincing. Why would Rei still have little Helena on the other side of the west mountain range? Surly he could’ve gotten her to a human village before then.
“Rei’s an unusual fellow,” one of the night-yetis said, “it’s not surprising he would be the subject of gossip and rumors.”
“Do you know him?” Mawei asked.
“Of course.” He said. “Many of us are looking forward to his report. Your uncle has become quite famous for his sojourn among the humans.”
Mawei’s mother could see that she didn’t recognize the night-yeti who was speaking. “Mawei, this is Eiser, you knew him when you were just a pup.”
“You don’t remember me?” He said. “I taught you how to eat crawdads.” He put his face close to Mawei’s and took a sniff. Mawei closed her eyes until it was over. “This is my young cousin Ruffer,” he said, indicating the smaller night-yeti next to him. “He also lives among humans.”
“Stop it Eiser,” the smaller night-yeti said, “I’m tired of the joke now.”
“Ruffer is taking his first turn at the mound today,” Weseil said, giving Mawei a sly look, “and he’s not even a little bit nervous.”
“I never said that I wasn’t nervous,” Ruffer said, “just that I know my part from tip to tail.”
“I think it’s wonderful to see a youth who’s so self-confident.” Weseil said, never taking her eyes off Mawei. “It’s very rare.”
Mawei’s mother wished Ruffer good luck and pulled her daughter away from the group, toward the clearing. “I’m not happy that you ran all night to get here on time.” She said. “If you had come directly you would’ve gotten here last night.”
“But mama, I wasn’t late.” Mawei said.
“No I guess not.”
“Mama, what if Rei was with a human like Bobber said? What would happen then?”
“He would be shunned and the human would be destroyed.” She said. “Why, do you know something about it that you haven’t told me?”
“Of course not.” Mawei said. Her mother looked at her as if waiting for a confession. “Why did Eiser say that Ruffer also lived among humans?” Mawei asked, changing the subject.
“Because a human built a small shelter in a corner of his wild.” She said. “It’s not his fault, poor boy, there’s nothing he can do about it. Many less-fortunate yetis have human roads through their wilds, but once they start building shelters there’s no getting rid of them.”
They decided to sit under a twisted pine that had roots bulging up from the ground which provided a good backrest. There were yetis up in the trees or sitting like Mawei and her mother, and even some highland-yetis up on the cliff, and all were watching the group of night-yetis standing near the mound. The grand call was coming and everyone was looking around, waiting for someone to get it started. Finally a cry went up at the other side of the clearing and soon more were joining and Mawei and her mother joined in the call too. At Mawei’s first Gather, when she was little, the grand call had scared her terribly, but now she was used to it, and even enjoyed it a little.
As if in response to the call the cloud cover tore open above them, revealing a shockingly blue sky and the wind picked up and bent the trees over the crowd of yetis. The fog had burned away and it seemed like the whole world was telling the night-yetis to hurry up and start the Chronicle. As the wind ripped across the clearing, a withered old grey night-yeti was helped onto the mound and a wave of electricity pulsed through the audience as she was recognized. “This is a very special day.” Mawei’s mother told her. “That’s Sorchel, she’s a great-great-great grandmother, and she is over four hundred years old.” She spoke distractedly, watching Sorchel stand motionless on the mound.
“Can she still give the Chronicle mama? Even as old as she is?” Mawei asked.
“People still talk about the last time she did. She’s legendary. Be still now Mawei, let’s watch.”
The old yeti stood stooped over and not moving except for the wind rustling her grey fur. It seemed to Mawei that even at her distance she could see a glint in Sorchel’s eye. The old yeti had moved so slowly that Mawei hadn’t even noticed, but now she saw that the speaker on the mound had formed, with her whole body, the first word of the Chronicle: Nothingness.
Mawei knew the first line of the Chronicle by heart and watched for the next words, which Sorchel arrived at and passed over very slowly. The quality of her movements was like ice melting. She continued, stretching out each word, and somehow giving meaning to the movements between words as well as to the words themselves. “Nothingness-was-pierced-by-the-mind-of-a-dreamer-asleep-in-a-distant-realm.”
She would punctuate certain words with flares of intensity in her eyes. Every yeti in attendance felt at some point during her recitation that the great Sorchel was looking directly at them. Mawei thought that the old yeti could read her mind when their eyes met.