Chapter 4
Rocks - Moshoi
“Wake up Moshoi!”
I could feel pressure on my shoulders, which was causing my body to move from side to side. I felt groggy and really did not want to acknowledge the sounds I was hearing or movement that I was feeling. It seemed as if I had just started sleeping. But the force on my shoulders increased and the shaking quickened to the point where I could no longer ignore it. A pungent odor drifted up my nose.
“Wake up Moshoi!” I heard again.
I stretched out my legs, uncurling my body from the ball it had been curved into, and then stiffly straightened my arms, reaching above my head. I opened my eyes and looked around. The image that appeared in front of me was blurry, but the source of the noise slowly came into view.
“The new star! I saw it!” the excited voice said.
The glazed picture of a face came gradually into focus and I could see the wide brown eyes and moving jaw of my brother, Tuka. Even in the dark cave, a vibrancy and playfulness seemed to emanate from Tuka like light reflects off a colorful patterned agate. The sparse golden brown scales on his chin spoke of his young age, though he acted as a watcher.
My mouth was so dry I could not answer.
“Argh,” was all I could say. I pulled myself up to my feet, but I found them unsteady, and my scaled back felt stiff and heavy. I took a wobbly step, trying to remember how to balance. Fortunately, Tuka knew how it felt to be awakened from hibernation, so he waited patiently. He handed me a bowl of water, and I drank deeply. The cool water flowed down my throat like a mountain creek in the spring, reviving me. I finally smiled at my brother.
“Is it time already?” I asked him, as he handed me some dried fruit. The three tribes of Hattom hibernated during summer droughts and thus conserved the dwindling food supply. Only a few watchers remained awake in order to make repairs, feed the animals, and stand guard in case of an emergency. This was my year to sleep and Tuka’s to watch.
“I didn’t know what to do!” Tuka exclaimed to me as the scales on the top of his head lifted upright.
Suddenly his excitement startled me. I wondered what he was talking about and whether there was some sort of emergency, since he had awakened me early. I glanced around at the curved stone walls and yakama wool rugs on the rock floor of the cave. The other members of our family were still curled up in balls sleeping, and I realized that Tuka was making no effort to awaken any of them.
“Slow down Tuka, I’m still half asleep. Tell me what is happening.”
Tuka took a deep breath and slowly exhaled. We all had been trained since childhood to use our minds to control our breath, our body temperature, and our heart rates through deep meditation. When determined necessary by a tribal leader, such as our father, we either warmed or cooled our bodies from the fires deep within and were able to sleep for long periods of time. Of course, we adequately prepared by eating more during the plentiful season, waking up much thinner several months later.
“It is not an emergency,” Tuka finally explained.
“How long have I been sleeping?”
“It has only been one moon since you became a rock,” Tuka responded.
“Why would you unfold me, if there is no emergency?” I asked, becoming a little irritated with Tuka. He was younger than I, and perhaps the responsibility of being a watcher was a little too much for him. This was his first year as a lone watcher.
“Remember how Rhabdom taught you the prophecy that begins with a new star that will appear in the sky?”
“Yes, of course.” I said.
“Well, I saw it. I went outside because I heard wolves howling. When I looked at the sky, just above one of the rock towers, a star, brighter than usual, caught my eye. It was as if the point of the tower was an arrow, poised to shoot right at the star, which was shining brightly under the wing of the Roc Constellation. Still, I wasn’t sure if it was the new star Rhabdom had predicted would appear. So I waited, and watched it, wondering if I should wake you. I’m sorry, Moshoi, but I was afraid if I woke you, it would be wrong, but if I didn’t wake you, it might be worse. So, finally I woke you.”
“No worries, Tuka,” I said. “Show me the star.”
Tuka and I wound our way past where the others slept. They were curved in their balls in a way that kept their soft bellies protected but exposed the overlapping natural plates that covered their backs like armor. As I stepped through the rock hewn archway of our home onto our stone cut balcony and into the warm air, I was glad that it was evening so my eyes could gradually adjust to any light.
Feeling dizzy, I leaned against our walled balcony. Tuka quickly handed me a handful of hazelnuts, which I began eating hungrily.
Our home was carved out of the rocks, high on a hill that looked out across a plateau filled with formations which contained many other homes etched into rocky hills and natural towers. My surroundings fired my imagination. At night, creatures appeared in the sky in the form of stars. On sunny days, when I looked up into the puffy clouds, those clouds seemed to take on the forms of animals, people, and monsters. Likewise, the rock formations that stretched before me came in many shapes that my mind twisted into other creatures. One group of rocks looked like a crowd of giant men in long robes, with tall pointy wide brimmed hats. Other vertical rocks were capped with mound shaped stones that made them resemble humongous mushrooms. Beyond them were huge white spears with iron tips pointed at the sky, like a trap set to spear giants that fell from the clouds. Some oddly shaped stones balanced precariously upon rock towers. These white, black, tan, red, yellow, and pink formations on the ground were as natural as the clouds in the sky.
Hattomian traditions told of ancient volcanic gods of fire from deep within the earth, and storm gods of wind from the sky that formed this land when battling on a grand scale. In my father’s blade smith’s shop, on a small scale, I had often imitated such works of creation when hammering metal into blades while the wind of my bellows stoked the fire. I no longer believed in the numerous traditional gods of my tribe, but there was truth in many of the tales, and I still shared a reverence and fear of fire and wind with all Hattomians.
As I finished munching the hazelnuts, I gazed across the valley at the other Hattomian homes cut high up into the scattered volcanic rocks, surrounded by balconies and dotted with arched doorways, which could be reached only by climbing chiseled stone stairs. Stone walls with crenellations had been added to some of the homes. Torches along the front corridors lit up the rock formations, casting shadows and eerily lighting up the doors of the rock homes with an orange glow. Suddenly, a slight wind blew, causing the fires to flicker, which made the orange light appear to flow like hot lava.
“There it is,” said Tuka. He pointed up into the sky to a bright, flickering star under the giant bird constellation.
I studied it carefully. Across the night sky stretched the wings of the Roc Constellation, whose individual stars sparkled above us, a reminder of the huge scary bird of children’s tales. But the lights of those stars were nearly overcome by the star that now pulsated below one wing. Tuka was right. That star had not been there before I had gone into my rock state for the hot season. I had never seen it there before. It was in the place that Rhabdom had promised.
“You were right to awaken me Tuka. That is the star.”
Tuka smiled and looked up at it again. “I knew it. I just knew it. It seems to be getting larger,” he said.
Now I was the one who did not know what to do. I knew I must not wake our parents, sisters, aunts, uncles, and cousins before it was the proper time. There would not be enough for them to eat if I woke them. If I was to depart on my journey, then that would leave one less mouth to feed, but I would have to take food with me, of which there was precious little. I did not want to be the cause of my family starving.
“I must prepare to leave on a long journey,” I told Tuka.
“Take me with you,” he urged.
“Tuka, you ar
e too young,” I answered without even considering. “You were not even supposed to be a watcher this year. The only reason father let you do it was because you were sick to your stomach just before the rock ceremony and lost too much weight to hibernate. He let you take the oath to become a lone watcher, but you were really a few months too young. Otherwise, I would have been watching this year instead of joining the rocks.”
“But I have proven myself as a watcher. Look around. I have kept the torches burning, fed our animals, taken care of myself, and kept out intruders.”
“I do not doubt that you have done your duty,” I reassured him, “but what would father say if I took you with me?”
“Will you just go alone?”
I actually started thinking that it would be nice to have Tuka along. He was so positive and so eager to always please me. He might almost make the long and dangerous journey fun.
“But if I take you, who will watch for our family?” I asked.
“So you do want to take me!” Tuka jumped in happily. “We will wake father. We will ask for his permission, and then he can watch for the family.”
“I can’t imagine that Father would allow it. Be calm, Tuka. A decision like this should not be made lightly. Soon, it’ll be morning. I won’t leave until then. Help me get together some supplies, and I will think about your suggestion. Let me see…I will need food rations, a rope, an ax, a spade, a saw, a water skin, a cooking pot, a stone quern, and a basket.”
“Thank you, Moshoi, I will get them right away. You will not regret it if you bring me!” he said. Then he ran off in search of the items.
I found myself thinking he might be right.