Crisscross Moon - 3. Chapter 3

3.

Like many women in her village, the girl had no name. The women were known as someone's daughter or someone's wife or someone's mother. The someone was almost always a man.

For most of her life, the girl had been one of Quick Leap's daughters. Not the oldest or youngest. Just one. First, she answered to "girl." After she married, to "woman." The girl's husband, Brown Bark, wasn't much older than she was. She became his wife because her father was one of the best warriors in the village.

The men were given names when they proved themselves. This usually happened after several hunts or raids. Most of these were for food though some were for revenge. If the village was attacked, or if a warrior was killed, there was almost always a raid. Quick Leap was named when he jumped from a rock during one attack and saved an older warrior's life. Brown Bark was named for his ability to heal.

The men were only allowed one wife at a time, and the few men who weren't strong enough to be warriors often weren't allowed to marry. There was little reason women would want them as husbands. Even flirting with another man's wife could get a warrior killed. If the man was of age, he'd be challenged to fight. If he was too old, too weak, or still an unnamed boy, he'd simply be tortured to death. The warriors knew they were the most important members of the village because they fed and defended it. And they knew their lives weren't to be wasted on over something as unimportant as women.

Though the girl's mother told her the women were as important as men, just in different ways. Women did things the men wouldn't. In exchange, the men risked their lives.

Not that the women always needed protection. When the men were away, the women could fight almost as well as the warriors. And when a man needed to be tortured, whether he was from the village or a warrior who'd been captured in an attack, it was women's job.

Even before the girl was married, she'd helped kill several men. They died slowly, often in pain. Their deaths were a lesson to the warriors, to remind them that men hunted carefully, no matter whose village they belonged to, and that it was always their duty to return.

So when the girl discovered the wounded boy, it was more than a surprise. Her village hadn't been attacked, so the boy wasn't a warrior her husband had fought but who'd gotten away. And he couldn't have been hurt in a hunt, or his own men would have taken him back to their village. The boy must have been hurt in a failed attack on another village. After a fight like that, the defeated warriors would scatter to slip back to their villages alone. But this boy was too weak.

The girl had been gathering firewood when the boy suddenly ran from a cave. They were in the middle forest, and the girl hadn't been collecting wood alone. But she was by herself when she saw the boy. For a moment, she didn't know why he'd let himself be seen if he wasn't planning to attack. Then she saw the bears.

There were two smaller ones, larger than cubs though far from full-grown. They were with their mother, and maybe there was a fourth bear behind them. The girl didn't wait to see. She'd been taught to run as quickly as possible and as far away. But she'd been distracted by the boy.

The bears were fast, and they were close, so the girl's only choice was to climb. She climbed the nearest tall tree.

"Help me!" the boy yelled. His language wasn't hers, but it was near enough to understand. "I can climb," he hollered. "But help me up."

The girl's first thought was to let the bears get the boy. That might be enough to save her. The boy was going to die anyway. Once she was safe, once she was back in her village, the warriors would come after the boy.

But after she was safely in the tree, she reached back and grabbed the boy's hand. That was all he needed to lift himself off the ground. Then they both climbed as high as they could.

The bears could climb, but they usually wouldn't. They were as afraid of people as people were of them. Still, the girl knew why the boy had run from the cave. The bears would attack anything they thought was hurt.

The boy stayed just below her in the tree. His knife was out, and he seemed ready to use it. The girl's knife was out, too, but she couldn't imagine fighting even a small bear without falling from the tree.

From high up, the bears could be seen through the branches. But the three or four of them seemed to be looking away. Then the large bear made a sound, and they all moved off.

The girl waited for the boy to leave. He glanced at her but didn't speak. Then, when he seemed to feel it was safe, he climbed down.

The girl let him go first though she wanted to get back to the other women. She also wanted to call them to help, but she didn't want to anger the boy. She'd helped him, but he could still attack. He had to know what it meant to be caught.

Only jumping from the lowest branch, the boy seemed to hurt himself again. He lay on the ground holding his leg against his chest, almost silent, maybe knowing that even a moan could bring the bears. Or the other women. He must have known the girl wouldn't be in the forest alone.

As the girl watched, the boy finally tried to stand. He couldn't, and it was clear to the girl that she'd have to leave the tree while he was still there. She doubted he'd attack, and she didn't think he was trying to trick her. Though once the warriors from her village caught him, he might even wish he'd been killed by the bears. So he might hurt her to get away.

The girl thought how unlucky the boy had been. Or maybe he had no choice but to go into that cave. Maybe he'd come as far as he could before his injured leg had stopped him. Or maybe he'd been looking for a place to die.

But then he wouldn't have run from the cave. He wouldn't have tried to escape from the bears. He wouldn't have asked for help.

He asked for it again as she came down the tree. She'd purposely climbed on the side away from him and had tried not to look toward where he was. But she knew he was watching.

When she started to run, he called out, "Please..."

The girl didn't turn.

"Please..." he said again. "Please..."

Please what? the girl wondered. Please don't leave? Please help me? Please don't tell your warriors?

"Please..." he repeated.

She couldn't help. It simply wasn't part of her life. Helping an enemy would only lead to danger. Her village had moved twice within her memory. First, the warriors thought they'd found a safer place. Then, when they were away on a hunt, there had been another attack. Women and children had been killed. When the warriors came back, they'd moved the village even before going for revenge. Since then, the village had been safe.

There were mountains to protect them. And forests. And there was water and a hidden cave, large enough for everyone to hide.

"Please," the boy said again, but the girl didn't listen. Instead, she found one of the women she'd been with, then another. As the women gathered, the girl told them about the boy and the bears. Then they hurried to the village.

They told the leader's wife, and she quickly went to her husband. The men had been in their meeting house, but after the leader's wife warned them about the boy, some of the warriors came to the girl. The girl's husband and father were among the men, but neither of them spoke. Her husband didn't have the authority, and her father knew not to use it.

The girl told the warriors where she'd been in the forest and told them anything she could remember about the boy. It was almost dark when the men left the village, taking spears and knives, and the girl expected to see the boy again in the morning. He'd be tied to a post in the women's meeting house. She knew the warriors would only kill the boy if they had to.

But she fell asleep before her husband came back. The warriors shouldn't have been away that long because the middle forest wasn't far, and the men knew it well. They often hunted there. As the girl fell asleep, she worried about the bears. She didn't think about the boy because if he'd had help nearby, he wouldn't have asked for hers.

When her husband finally came into their hut, he slipped onto their blanket, almost without waking her. And though he had to know the girl wasn't asleep, he didn't speak. He pulled the skins over them both and held her for warmth. The girl was glad he was safe.

(continued)