As a young boy, my father had taken me many times to the festival held each year in the giant field just over the hill from our farm. I wouldn’t sleep from the excitement I felt knowing that it was just days away as I anticipated the smell of apple wood burning and spiced bread cooling in the open air. I would sit atop my father’s broad shoulders, above it all, pretending to be a Wing as we watched the dancers glide effortlessly to the music.  Later, the men would compete in the festival games of strength. My father always won, or at least that is how I remember it.

The Great Celebration was something special, a festival much bigger than normal, like nothing I had ever seen before. It brought with it a euphoria somehow woven into the landscape. The village and everyone within it appeared different than on days past and I recall being very much overwhelmed as I gazed upon them. Like the enveloping rays of a sunrise, its spirit seemed to touch everyone. It was pure and so very, very intoxicating and we all fell helplessly into its spell.

It had started on the day the Travelers returned from their long journey to Blue, the orb that our own three orbs encircled every few years. Blue was much larger than ours and as long as I can remember was the center of conversation whenever people gathered, despite the fact that there was so little known about it. It filled our dreams and, peering down from the sky, it watched over us much like my father did of me.

The Travelers were men who regularly journeyed between our three orbs, using only the biggest and strongest Wings. My father said it was for trade between our orbs, but I think it was for the excitement of the Explore. That is certainly why I would go and hoped to one day. A journey to Blue, however, had never been attempted before, and many in the Family felt it should never have been attempted at all. Those in favor, comprised mainly of the Thinkers and a group called the Young Pioneers, felt it was essential to our existence to venture out beyond our own understanding. Others protested, calling the mission a flight of the imagination that wasted our thoughts, bleeding our energy away from the everyday problems we faced at home on Kyb.

My father did not say much of anything about the Explore one way or the other. Of course, I really didn’t care, wishing only that I could have gone too. It consumed me and sitting atop of my father’s shoulders at the Great Celebration, I can still recall pretending I had gone on the Explore, swooping down from the clouds as I arrived back from Blue.

“Can you see well from up there, son?” my father asked.

“I see the dancers…and the jugglers…and….I can see Osei, he’s over by the pond,” I replied. Osei was my older brother, my only brother. He was much bigger than me, a fact he was always quick to emphasize whenever we were together. My father said we looked almost identical. I could never go anywhere with Osei without someone commenting that if it were not for our significant difference in size, they would have guessed we were twins. I couldn’t wait to grow and catch up to him, not so much to put an end to the comments, but to provide him with a stiffer challenge when his acts of dominance descended upon me, as they often did.

My father headed for the pond, giving me a ticklish jolt with each stride. As we passed people eating at a long table, my father reached out and grabbed several cooked bird legs. He handed me one. It was as big as my head but it tasted good.

“Mind your manners, Ronu,” one of the women shouted. My father laughed and kept on walking. “I’ll catch up to you later and I’ll expect payment,” she yelled with a grin on her face.

“You know where to find me,” my father replied.

It was no secret that more than a few of the women in the Family had their eye on my father. He jokingly referred to himself as the most reluctant bachelor in the village. Our mother had died only a few months ago and the new, unofficial title he acquired was not a welcome one. I do not think he really thought of himself as a bachelor.  Sometimes when I was supposed to be sleeping I would hear him talking to my mother as if she were sitting right next to him. Their conversation, though one-sided, would go on for hours, maybe longer, but it always helped me fall asleep. I missed her as much as he did, perhaps more.

“Hey, Zeu, you’re getting too big to ride on father’s shoulders!” my brother yelled as he pulled me off and held me upside down. This was his favorite thing in the world to do.

“Put him down, son,” my father said in an indifferent tone.

“Not ‘til his head pops open and the blood splatters all over the ground.”

I started laughing, then coughing and begged him to stop. It was a routine that neither of us ever seemed to tire of. With my feet straddling his ears, he walked to a muddy hole and twice pretended to drop me in.

“Put him down,” my father yelled, this time with aggravation in his voice.

“Ok,” my brother replied with a grin.

As my body hit the mud, I knew this night would be a fun one.

I wiped the sludge from my eyes and could see my father heading toward the gathering place. I jumped up and ran to catch him and my brother. Fortunately, for me, my father was not averse to mud so I quickly found my place once again on his broad shoulders. Everyone was heading in the same direction and even though I had no idea why, I was dizzy with excitement as I towered above them all there atop my father’s mass.

We arrived at the gathering place to find the Travelers standing on a giant tree stump with three interwoven circles carved into it. My father explained that the stump was the place of honor, and all who encircled it were there to pay tribute to those who stood upon it. My first visit to this place had been several months ago when my mother died. I had not been back since.

At first, I hadn’t noticed but then I realized that no one was speaking. I had never experienced such silence in the midst of such a large gathering. Then, everyone started to move. The people closest to the tree stump started to walk in one direction, circling the Travelers as they moved. Then the next layer of people began walking in the opposite direction, circling the first group of people. When our turn arrived, my father started walking with me still perched on his shoulders. I watched in amazement as the human waves circled the tree stump. As for the Travelers, they stood and gazed out into the sky that was slowly filling with stars as the evening twilight faded.

I do not know how long we walked, but as we continued, I wanted to ask my father why we were doing it, and how everyone knew which way to go. Fearful of breaking the silence, I held my tongue until finally everyone stopped, which, amazingly, they did at precisely the same moment. Then, there was a giant cheer, so loud I had to cover my ears. Upon hearing the roar, the Travelers looked down from their upward gaze, smiled modestly and bowed.

“Show’s over. Let’s eat!” my father said as he turned away from the crowd.

I liked the way my father put things. He always went straight to the matter at hand. His reminder of the meal that awaited us quickly bumped the questions about the ritual from my mind.

“I want to be a Traveler one day,” my brother said trying to get my father’s attention. “The Wing born several weeks ago will be perfect. I can already tell that he is going to be much bigger than the rest and a great flyer. Don’t you think so father?”

“He is mine,” I said quickly before my father could answer. “You promised months ago that I could train the next Wing to be born.”

“That Wing will be much more than you can handle Zeu. I’ll bet he’ll be the biggest one ever and I should be the one to train him!” As my brother pleaded his case, I could swear he was trying to grow taller so that he might talk eye to eye with our father.

“You can train the one born after him, his little sister,” I said.

Just when I thought my father wasn’t really listening he interrupted us. “I wouldn’t be surprised if it takes both of you to manage that one.”

“Zeu is too small to be of any help. He would just get in my way.”

“You’re the one who’d be in the way; you and you’re giant, clumsy feet!”

Osei gave me a shove, which upon regaining my balance, I immediately returned. It hardly budged him.

“Something tells me that one is going to be special. We can talk more about this later, after I’ve eaten,” my father said. My father could do anything, provided he satisfied his hunger first.

We found our way over to the fire pits where the women were busy cooking and keeping the men away from their preparations. The many smells began to make my mouth water and I reluctantly lowered myself off my father’s shoulders so that I could steal a bit of anything I could find. At times like these, I was happy to be small because I could go unnoticed around the many tables of temptation.

“If you get caught don’t come crying to me,” my father quipped. “You know how the women are about their cooking.”

I paid him no mind, as I never got caught. I was too quick and sly to alert anyone to my intentions. My system was simple. The first thing I would do was find one of the women who were sweet on my father. Next, I would start talking with her about him, pointing him out in the crowd as I claimed he was looking her way. As soon as she looked to catch his attention, I had my prize. This worked very well and before long, I was so full I wandered away from the fire pits in search of a place to sit and rest. Soon, I found my favorite spot under a big tree next to the creek, the sound of the slow wash of the water dancing over the rocks making me sleepy. I have always found comfort in peaceful surroundings that afford me an unopposed view of the endless night sky, and this one was perfect.

“How many are there?” my father asked. He knew how much I enjoyed counting the stars each night and that I would stay there until morning if he didn’t come get me.

“I’ve been through all my fingers again and again and I’m still going. I think there are more tonight than ever before!” I explained.

“You’ll have to finish counting at home, the celebration is over,” he said with a mix of disappointment and relief.

“Already? We just got here,” I replied. It seemed like we had just arrived but I guess I was so preoccupied with my counting that I didn’t see the evening go by. I’ve always had a habit of losing track of time when something grabs my attention, which seems to happen often.

“Where’s Osei?” I asked.

“He’s heading over to the Hall where the Travelers are meeting with the Thinkers. They are going to discuss their journey and probably talk all night, or what’s left of it,” my father explained. I could tell he was not interested.

“Can we go too?” I asked, knowing what the answer would be. My father didn’t like to listen to the Thinkers talk.

“No, we’ve got work to do in the morning, so it’s time to get home and get to bed. You and me both.”

“What about Osei? He’s got plenty to do in the morning as well,” I said, thinking I had found my way around his answer.

“Don’t worry about him; he’ll be there in the morning doing his work, whether he’s awake or not!”

It was safe to say that for my father to excuse you from a day’s work you had to be at death’s door. No, I take that back, you had to be dead. Even then he would probably use you to hold one of his tools.

So, back home we went with me on his shoulders once again. Not a bad way to travel.

 

Our home was tucked away on the side of a hill just into the dense patch of trees that bordered the center of the village. My father had cleared some of the trees in the back of the house so that the sun could enter in the early morning hours while we ate breakfast. My mother loved to sit at the table, drink her tea and soak up the sun. Now, my father would sit in her chair, staring out the window at the flower garden he planted over the top of her grave.

“You should get to bed,” my father said, pointing at the ladder leading up to the room I shared with my brother.

“But I’m not sleepy, can’t I stay up for while,” I pleaded. “Tell me a story about mother.”

My father could never say no when I asked him to talk about my mother. It always brought a smile to his face. And to mine as well.

“Did I ever tell you how this window got here?” he asked referring to the window that my mother loved.

I didn’t say anything. I didn’t have to as I knew he would continue regardless of what I said.

“When I first built the house your mother told me to put the window right here,” my father said pointing at a spot on the wall that now held a painted image of the valley at the bottom of the hill where we lived. “I asked, ‘Are you sure dear?’ and she answered ‘Of course I am’ as she always did. Your mother always knew what she wanted.” He went over to the picture and straightened it a bit. “So, that’s where I put it.” He paused for while, staring at the picture while I stared at him. For a moment, I saw my mother sitting at the table sipping her tea and I wanted to tell my father to turn around. But, he was busy with his story and so I allowed him to continue without interrupting.

“Well, several weeks later, your mother found this table at a small shop in the village and completely fell in love with it. She had me and your Uncle Hiro carry it home where she had us move it from room to room to find the right fit. She always said that if you find something you like then get it, and you will find a place for it. Well, after a bit of sweat from your Uncle and me, she finally did, right here in the cooking room.” Again, he paused. Maybe now he saw her sitting at the table as I did.

“The first time she sat at this table she said ‘Ronu, you put that window in the wrong spot. It needs to be over here’,” he said trying to imitate her voice. He wasn’t very good at it.

“‘Are you sure dear?’ I said to her trying to contain my laughter,” my father said with a quiet smile on his face. “‘Of course I am,’ she said without hesitation. Your mother always knew what she wanted.”

“A few days later, the window was where she wanted it, right here,” he said pointing at another painted image that was on the right side of the same wall as the first image he had straightened when he began his story.

Now, I had a huge smile on my face. I couldn’t wait to hear more. I never tired of hearing about my mother and this story was shaping up nicely.

“This image was created by your mother,” he said adjusting it just as he had the other. “The day after I moved the window I came in from working only to find this image hanging over the new window. In the spot where it had been hanging that morning was a huge hole with a brilliant ray of sunshine beaming through.”

I couldn’t control myself any longer and burst out laughing.

“‘You really should have put it here, Ronu’ she said pointing at the fresh hole in the wall. Of course I asked ‘Are you sure dear?’” My father was now struggling to hold back his own laughter. “‘Of course I am,’ she replied,” he said as he paused and became suddenly quiet. “Your mother always knew what she wanted.”

My father went to the table and sat at my mother’s chair. I knew he was finished talking, at least to me anyway, so I went over to the ladder and briefly looked back at him. With a sigh, I climbed up only to find my brother’s empty bed. Instantly, I knew I had to go see what he was doing and within seconds, I was out the window, running down the path that led to the village. It didn’t take me long to get to the Hall, I could run forever when I was young.