The Mermuring Maiden, page 13
When her father brought the woman home for dinner the woman pinched her on her cheek. She was nice and easy to be with. She even taught her some steps from her Zhosa initiation dance. That day her father was acting so differently. She wondered if this new woman was going to be her mother, but that evening when she played dress up with the woman, her father got angry.
The dancer had dressed Adisa in a flowered sarong with some pink plastic shoes and she had painted her mouth with berries. The Fire-Tender saw red and did not speak to the woman for weeks. Since her father would no longer talk to her, the South African woman decided to leave with the others. After that her father’s eyes were always bloodshot and his breath smelled of yeast. Adisa made her father drink bush tea with yellow flowers until his eyes finally brightened and he started to smile again. Then things went back to normal.
“Look,” her father said.
Adisa didn’t see what her father was referring to. At first she didn’t see anything but when she lowered her eyes something moved and there she was. The little sea-girl was standing by their house waiting for them. She was drawing circles in the sand with a small stick. When she felt Adisa’s eyes upon her she waved and started to run towards them. Or was it skipping? She was unsure what to call the mermaid’s cadence. It was a little hop, then a skip, then she slid and after that she did a hop-hop. It was very strange and very musical. Adisa could not take her eyes off the little girl. She was so transfixed by the exotic child she didn’t notice she was now standing in front of her.
“Hi, can you help me with my hair? Look,” said Mianshe. And then she lifted her arms and took the ribbon out of her hair, but her hair stayed exactly where it was. It was a tangled mess.
The Fire-Tender gently sidled around the girls and quietly snuck into the house. Or he would have if a ribbon had not been tied to the pull string on the cottage door. Hanging from the string was a package. It was wrapped in the comics from an old newspaper and had red crayon marks on it. The man slowly untied the string and opened it up. It was sliced mangoes slathered with honey and flower petals. It was definitely from the little girl. As he opened the door to slip inside he saw his daughter smiling at the prince’s child as the door closed behind him.
He sat the mango package on the table and went to wash his hands but the wrapper still floated on his other hand. It was stuck to his fingers like fly paper. He rinsed one hand with the left over water in the teakettle before attempting to unglue the sticky paper from his other, but when he went to rip the paper off his fingers he noticed the red crayon marks. It was a little map of mermaid symbols. It was her thoughts drawn out for him and she was one happy little girl. The Fire-Tender did something he rarely did. He laughed.
Adisa smiled at the little girl. “Wait right here,” she said. Adisa quickly entered her house and returned with a wide toothed comb, a brush and a pot of coconut soap. “Let’s go to the river. Wait! Does the Prince-Guardian know where you are?” she asked.
“Why of course he does. He sent me here before going off with King-Popah,” Mianshe replied.
This made Adisa happier than she had been in months. The prince trusted her. She was the person he had sent his most prized possession. She would clean and comb and brush this little girl’s hair to brilliance and then she would present her to her soon to be king. Adisa took the prince’s daughter by the hand and they hopped then skipped, and slid out of the yard down the path toward the river.
Mianshe chattered the entire way. She asked about the red ant and why it had to work so hard. She wondered why the people didn’t build cool homes in the earth like the ants did. She was curious of what the big animals did during the day and where they slept at night. She was concerned about the lonely sounds they made. She didn’t care much for bats because they squeaked and it hurt her ears. Then she began describing the townsmen. She thought the entire town must be very smart to be called Librarians, and she wanted to know how many books Adisa had read. She liked the Fire-Tender very much because his name suited him. She thought he was a very tenderhearted person indeed. He reminded her of a dolphin. She liked the way the Herb-Woman’s body bobbed and jiggled and the sounds it made. She looked like a seahorse bride in an underwater waterfall, but mostly she loved all the colors in the village. Orange was her favorite.
Adisa had no trouble understanding why the prince was so in love with this child. She was truly lovely. She found pleasure in everything, the swirls in the dirt and the puffy clouds, the mist in the night air and the colors of sunshine. She saw colors in places Adisa could not see. She couldn’t answer Mianshe when she asked her the name of the color of the angry smoke. She did not know. Her first response was gray, but when she showed the little girl something gray she assured her that was not the color she saw in the fire.
Mianshe told her she must have boo-boos for eyes. This worried Adisa because boo-boos meant a small hurt that ached and she did not want the little one to think her eyes hurt or worse, that she had old eyes, but the little girl informed her that a boo-boo was the little bulb on seaweed and it got its name because when popped it sounded like a boo-boo or it sounded that way underwater. Mianshe suggested on their next trip they should go to the shore so she could hear the boo-boos talking. Adisa agreed.
It was strange seeing things from another person’s eyes. For example, the end of the eagle’s tail made traces in the clouds. When Mianshe described how she saw the energy of an eagle in flight it was exactly how Adisa saw the clouds that brought the ancestors home. They swirled like dandelion fluff in the sky, even longer like a brushstroke that used white water. Mianshe adored the word dandelion and wanted her to call her that, but just for the day. So Adisa and Dandelion went down the path and into the river, roaring with laughter all the way.
“Guess who’s here!” shouted the newly named Dandelion.
“Who?” Adisa giggled as she slipped her dress off and walked into the water.
“Me,” replied Verité as he emerged from under the water with a fish in his hand. “Are you hungry?” he asked.
The girls clapped with delight upon seeing Verité. Adisa knew it was going to be great fun seeing the two in action. Then she thought of her prince again. He was a very private man so she was sure he was having a difficult time being with others all day long, although there was nothing more endearing (or humorous) than watching a father parent his children.
It was time to tackle the little one’s hair. Adisa walked the girl into the river and cooed gently to her as she lifted her head back into the water, and the little one immediately slipped out of her hands and started gathering more fish for Verité.
“Here. Oh, here’s one too, ah and another one!” she cried throwing the fish from the water onto the shore.
Adisa had to stop the little one from catching so many fish. She was breaking Verité’s heart. The only reason the little boy was hiding in the water was to impress his new little sister and here she was trying to impress him. Adisa wondered how the sexes ever got together long enough to couple. They were always in competition, especially if they liked each other and these two little ones were already in love.
“Mianshe, I mean Dandy-lioness shall we begin doing your hair?” Adisa asked.
“Okay,” she said. Dandelion-Mianshe rushed over and sat between Adisa’s legs as if she had been doing it all her life.
Adisa breathed deeply as she tried to comb through the knots and tangles in the mermaid’s hair. It was difficult. Her hair was not like any hair she had touched before. It was more twisted than a jungle vine and just as strong, but it was silky too and slipped through her fingers like a dragonfly if she did not keep a good hold on it. Plus, the little girl had a hard time sitting still for long periods. As soon as she would untangle one lock the girl would ask to run off to see what Verité was doing but she always came back when called.
Verité was building a fire. He dug a hole in the sandy earth and placed some dry pieces of driftwood he had found around the area. Then he gathered some leaves and mixed it with the wood. Afterward he
went to the river to get the fish he had tied in a cloth and left dangling in the water.
When Mianshe saw him get the fish she begged him to bring it to her. She apologized for not coming herself but Adisa had a good strong hold on a tress of her hair. The braids were so tight they started to make Mianshe’s eyes slant.
This made Verité frown. He was sure she was in pain. The comb was pushing all her face to one side and he did not like that at all. “You are hurting her,” he quietly said.
Adisa tried to explain. “The braids will loosen soon enough, so there is nothing to worry about.”
Mianshe wanted to see what they were discussing, so she pulled her braid through Adisa’s fingers and ran to the water’s edge. Verité ran after her with Adisa trailing behind them.
“See!” exclaimed the boy. “You look like a Chinese man.”
Mianshe had never seen a Chinese man so she didn’t know if this was a compliment or an insult. She looked at her reflection with great intensity.
“If I don’t braid it tight it will come out and get all matted again,” sighed Adisa.
Mianshe wanted to tone a question to Adisa. She wanted to ask her if a Chinese man was a good compliment or a bad insult, but she did not want to scare her like she had her father. Land beings liked noise. They were afraid of silence. She didn’t want to go to that scared place with them again. Even Verité acted as if he was punished when she toned a conversation. Just like the day she silently asked him for a piece of his sweet potato and his response was, well he had no response. He was too terrified to respond. How was anyone to have a private conversation in this place? She didn’t care if she hurt Verité’s feelings or not she needed to know if looking Chinese was nice or not nice.
“Do I look like a Chinese man?” Mianshe asked.
“No, dear child, not at all. You look like an Ethiopian princess,” cooed Adisa.
“I look like a Ittipopan princess!” shouted Mianshe. “So there!”
“I still think you look Chinese,” Verité said, but very quietly.
Adisa was having a marvelous time. The two children were funnier than the funny papers the sewing women brought her, but as Adisa was enjoying the performances from the children she failed to notice how quickly Mianshe’s hands were moving. In a split second, Mianshe’s amber hair was floating like dandelion fluff in the wind again.
Verité thought it was a great improvement so he went over and kissed her on her forehead.
“How do I look now, Adisa?” Mianshe asked. The little girl stood as straight as she could as she waited for Adisa’s judgment.
Adisa knew she would win no favors with the prince if she returned the little girl with her hair in almost the exact same shape as before. Maybe she was exaggerating a bit. The girl’s hair wasn’t piled in a cone on her head like before. It was now flying around her face like a lion’s mane, catching everything airborne in its wake.
“You look like a roaring lion,” she said. “And although it is a truly regal look you may scare people because the lion is very strong, very strong indeed.” Then Adisa sat down and folded her hands in her lap.
Verité put the fish back in the water. He could see it would be a while before the women were ready to have lunch. He thought about Adisa’s take on Mianshe’s hair and she had a point, a very good one. This tribe was afraid of lions, especially lionesses. He did not want the tribe to eat his only friend so he decided to have a different opinion.
“I like the Chinese man in the market. He would always give me some vegetables if I helped him. He smelled like licorice.” Then Verité looked
at Adisa and smiled and then he sat down and folded his hands in his lap too.
Mianshe was furious. She knew when people were being untrue. They were trying to appease her. They were being condescending. She didn’t like when people said one thing and felt another. It made her heart weak. So she ran to the river and grabbed a fish and bit off its head. She then ripped open its belly and removed the insides until all that was left was a little piece of smelly string. She plunged the fish into the water and ripped the intestinal cord clean out. Next she wrapped the string around her mane until it became a tail.
“There!” she exclaimed.
Mianshe looked like a genie emerging from a bottle. The wrapped part protruded from her head and the tail cascaded down her back and made a copper halo around her face. She looked gorgeous.
“Wow!” cried Verité. “Look at you!”
“Nicely done, little one,” Adisa affirmed.
“Let’s eat,” said Mianshe. She calmly ripped the fish into three pieces and gave one to each of them. “Eat. Its better when it’s fresh,” she said.
The land duo did not know what to say or do. Mianshe was watching them so they could not throw her gift away which is what they both wanted to do. Verité slowly put the fish in his mouth and bit it and then he gulped. His brow furrowed but afterwards his lip curled. He liked it, so he ate another bite and another until it was finished. Although, he did not want to waste his work so he got some rocks to place over his fire pit. “We can use it for wild yams,” he said. Then he ran off into the forest again to forage.
Adisa took a tiny nibble and grinned. She tried to make her smile look sincere but it was hard to do with a cold wet slimy lump of fish in her mouth. She decided it wasn’t horrible tasting, it was just horrible feeling. She didn’t like the texture. It felt like someone had already eaten it and that was not a good feeling. Adisa had already had a taste of the girl’s wisdom so she knew she had to tell her the truth. Even if she wanted to bend her story to make her feel better, she knew it would only make her feel worse plus she would never trust her again. She had to tell the mermaid that on land things are better when they are cooked, but she had to say this in a kind way.
“You don’t like it do you?” inquired the girl.
“Well it’s not as good as sweet potatoes, or as nice as a cup of honeyed bush tea, but it’s not as bad as lion’s meat or sour milk either. I would have to say it is somewhere in between.” Then Adisa added, “But it is my first time trying raw fish. Maybe I could get to like it. I’ll try it again later.”
Mianshe smiled at Adisa. She liked her. She was honest, gentle and kind and her sincere reply made her very happy. “You are a true friend. I love you. I will always be your Dandy-lioness. Where did Verité go?” And off she went looking for her land brother.
Adisa was truly touched. She had never had any female treat her with such compassion and respect before. This little girl was more woman than most women she knew. Adisa had lived without a mother for as long as she could remember so sharing her feelings with another person of her own sex felt odd. This was what had bonded her to the prince. He too had little knowledge of female nurturing. Granted he had his aunt but she was more about business than tenderness. Now the prince had Mianshe, the little girl who could touch your heart.
It was late afternoon. Adisa didn’t want to go back to the village just yet. She was having too much fun watching Mianshe and Verité explore everything they saw. When Mianshe pointed out a red ant trying to carry off a huge morsel of yam, Verité enacted the red ant’s dance by trying to walk with the largest boulder he could find. Then a dragonfly flitted by and warned him about the heavy load he was trying to carry and the children went off listening to dragonfly wisdom, but when the yellow-headed lizard ate the scarlet dragonfly, Mianshe began to cry.
“Oye little one, don’t cry,” cooed Adisa.
“The lizard was hungry,” explained Verité and then he ran off into the forest.
“Are you better now?” Adisa asked. Mianshe smiled at her and then she ran off to find Verité.
Adisa couldn’t help but remember her time in these same forests playing with the prince. They would run like goats in a pasture after everything they saw too and the prince was as sensitive as his daughter. One time, when they had snuck up on old man Ousman slaughtering a pig, the prince cried.
The sun was now touching the horizon. It was getting close to dinnertime. They were going to have to hurry to get home in time to eat with the communal family otherwise they would have to fend for themselves. Adisa went off into the woods to find the children. As she slowly walked deeper into the forest she could hear them giggling. When she stopped walking everything became silent. There before her was the most beautifully ornate spider web she had ever seen. The children had decorated it with flower petals and butterfly wings, old cocoons and sweet grass, paper-thin shells and animal fur and then sprayed their artwork with water so it glistened in the red glow of the sunset. It was absolutely otherworldly.
Adisa stood studying the web art for a good long moment. She had no words to express what she was feeling. It had been a long time since she had felt the purity of innocence and it was overwhelming. Being initiated as an adult was not all it was cracked up to be. No one made art or went for walks or sang gibberish or ate raw fish. No one told you their secrets or patted you on the back or gave you pet names or laughed until their sides ached. Everyone she knew was responsible and boring. It was like adulthood was a curse condemning oneself to endless days of doing the same thing over and over again. Today was a gift she would never forget. She would gladly take this knowledge with her into tomorrow. Adisa promised herself she would find something new to do every day. Even if it was something as simple as putting her clothes on in reverse order. This made her giggle, and the children who now stood beside her unnoticed giggled, startling Adisa back to the present moment.
