8
It was the late afternoon and the seventh night-yeti was on the mound when Mawei’s mother left to attend to her duties preparing the feast. Mawei was too young to have any official duties at the Gather, and she was in no hurry to start. Even the highland-yeti’s duty of organizing a night of terror, called the horripilation, seemed more enjoyable than preparing a meal. So it was with some jealousy that Mawei watched Ruffer take the mound for the first time.
He started a little too fast, talking about a time of war when tribal boundaries were held to be sacrosanct. Back then yetis that crossed tribal boundaries were cast out along with their young. Ruffer spoke of an outcast yeti, born of highland and night-yeti parents, who was forced to take a wild on a beach, far from food sources. By necessity this yeti had learned to swim and catch fish in the ocean. Ruffer, taking an artistic choice, would give the parts of the story when the outcast was swimming as if he were underwater. He had a knack for making his fur look like it was floating. When he began many viewers had been in conversation and the crowd was abuzz with movement, but by the time he’d gotten to the turning point in the story there was stillness all around.
In the story an unprecedented drought had come over the land, causing famine. All the yetis in the area had to come to this outcast to learn how to swim and catch fish in the ocean. It was one story among many about how the fluidity between the yeti tribes was eventually accepted and finally embraced. Mawei was a forest-yeti, but she was one-quarter highland, so she thought that back in those days she would’ve been an outcast too. Her father even claimed he had a snow-yeti far back on his family tree.
Mawei’s aunt Weseil came over to sit with her for the apotheosis, and the moment it was over a loud cry went up from the crowd. All the yetis in attendance flooded the clearing, going to where the night-yetis were gathered by the mound and congratulating them on another memorable Chronicle. Weseil saw Mawei looking at Ruffer. “Well,” she said, “aren’t you going to go over and tell him he did a good job?”
“Why?” Mawei asked.
She smiled. “Because he did,” she said, “and because you like him.”
“What? I do not.”
“Come on, I’ll go with you.” She took Mawei by the arm and led her over to Ruffer. “That was a very impressive debut.” She told him. “Didn’t you think so Mawei?”
“Yes,” Mawei said to Ruffer, “you did a good job.”
“No,” he said, “I rushed the beginning. I’ve done it much better on my own.”
“I thought it was good.” Mawei said.
“No, you’re wrong,” he said, “it wasn’t good.”
Mawei looked at her aunt, but she was too amused by the awkward conversation to offer any help. “Okay, if you say so.” Mawei said. “Sorry it didn’t go well.”
“Mawei!” Her aunt said. “He did a wonderful job. He’s just being modest.”
“He said himself that he rushed the beginning.” Mawei said. “But then he slowed down and it was okay.” Ruffer looked confused all of a sudden. “I really liked the swimming parts.”
“Thanks.” He said.
“We’ll see you at the feast.” Weseil said, pulling her niece away. When they were safely away from the clearing she scolded Mawei. “Why did you criticize his performance? You hurt his feelings.”
“I told him he did a good job, but he said no. He said I was wrong. What was I supposed to do, argue him on how great he is?”
“The boy might be a bit slow,” she said, “but you could’ve argued a little.”
“He’s a dope,” Mawei said. “That’s what I should’ve told him.” Weseil laughed and they went arm in arm to the feast.
In the woods just south of the clearing, all the types of food that the forest had to offer were set out in front of different trees so that the hungry yetis could wander from place to place, trying different things. The full moon illuminated the feast, and a gentle breeze carried the smells of mushrooms, fish, berries, insects and edible leaves and plants of all sorts into the nostrils of the yetis who’d spent the entire day immersed in their history and were now famished.
Mawei ate, but she was having a hard time enjoying the food. She kept thinking about the little human. “Is something bothering you?” Mawei’s aunt asked her.
“No,” Mawei said. She thought for a moment. “Do you think there’s any truth to what Bobber said about Rei?”
“No.” Weseil said. “Rei’s weird but he’s not stupid. Even if he had consorted with a human, he wouldn’t bring one to a Gather. Don’t worry yourself Mawei.”
“You’re right.” Mawei said. She felt a bit better and ate some pine nuts watching the flow of yetis going back and forth from station to station. She was hoping to get a glimpse of Rei, but didn’t see him. It was getting late so she decided to find her father at the mushroom tree. She said goodnight to her aunt and they touched noses.
It had been a warm, wet fall, so there were enough mushrooms for all the yetis to have their fill. When the last yeti had finally stopped eating and wandered off, Mawei and her father lay down under the tree and curled up together. There was an opening in the branches above them and they could see the night sky.
Mawei turned so that her father could see her face. “Papa, do you think the great dreamer is a boy or a girl?”
“I don’t know,” he said. “From what I’ve seen of its sense of humor I’d guess it was female. Does it matter?”
“No, I guess not.” She said. “Papa, do you think another type of creature could speak yeti?”
“What do you mean?”
“Like maybe a bear or a mountain lion? I mean has anyone ever really tried to talk to other creatures?”
“Mawei, don’t be silly.” He said. Mawei shifted around, trying to get comfortable and then looked up at the night sky.
She was on the verge of sleep when she saw a bright shooting star streak by. “Papa, did you see that?” She asked, but he was already asleep.