Time to Move On
Weeks of hiding from the Maasai in the deep bush and trying to contact her people had done nothing good for Zalika’s mood. Since her memory returned, she had been trying to reclaim her humanity. She had hoped to return to her village and find her father, but since she was changed, her people were terrified of her. They seem to think of her as a spirit or demigod, to be placated from a safe distance.
Whenever Zalika tried to approach her people, they would move, even abandoning whole villages if she entered them. The small offerings left with the figurines of a striped woman gave her very little hope. They were making offerings to her and leaving them in the bush for her to find. Sometimes they left some food, but usually it was just figurines.
Zalika could eat anything the zebra could eat, or nothing at all, but she did feel better when chewing on something, and she was trying to reclaim her humanity. When food was left, or she could find something to eat, she made a point of cooking it in a tightly woven basket, giving thanks to Allah, and eating a meal.
Her striped coat gave her all the protection from the weather that she needed, but Zalika still felt her nakedness. It might be a small thing, but it was important to her as part of reclaiming her humanity not to go naked like an animal.
She still carried the Maasai spear, more as a symbol of her humanity than for any utility. Animals never carried weapons, and she would always run if given the chance, but she would use it as her father had taught her if the leopard she smelled ever decided to show itself. “Come out, kitty, I am tired of smelling you and not seeing you.” Zalika did not expect a reaction to her latest challenge. She had been talking to the cat for days now without result. Why should today be any different?
There was a noise that was somewhere between a growl and a moan, and completely unlike anything Zalika had ever heard. What came out of the shadows was just as unique. His shape gave her hope and filled her with pity at the same time. He came towards her on all fours, ears nearly flat against his head, and the last third of his tail twitching to and fro. While still just out of reach, he sat and wrapped his tail around his feet. Zalika’s nose told her this was what had been stalking her. Her eyes told her this was someone very much like herself.
He looked to have the torso of a young man, about as tall as she. His head was a disturbing blend of a jungle cat and a human. With smooth black palms and grasping fingers, his hands looked almost human, except for the retractable claws. He was covered head to tail in fine yellow fur spotted with black.
“By Allah, you have suffered the same fate I have.” Zalika dropped her spear and looked carefully at him. “You are still lost to the animal, aren’t you?” She felt extremely nervous in the presence of a large cat, but here was someone in the same predicament she was. She needed to help him find his humanity, to have any hope of finding hers.
“I am going to start a fire and cook some grain. You could get us some meat to flavor it with…” Zalika began chattering like a group of parrots in the morning. It had been so long since anyone had even pretended to listen to her, and she desperately wanted someone to talk to. “Don’t worry if you have trouble talking. It will come with practice.” Zalika spoke constantly as she built a small fire. She added some grain to her basket and water from a large, otherwise empty egg. The leopard boy moved mostly back into the shadows but watched her intently. Most of the time, his face showed a mix of confusion and interest in what she was doing, and occasionally something seemed to trigger a memory.
Zalika cooked her meal and offered some to the leopard boy, who still seemed interested but was not at all sure what to do with it. “It will come back, but you may wish that it hadn’t when it does.” Zalika reached out to stroke the side of his face, but his ears disappeared against his head as he hissed. He did not take a swipe at her, but he did quickly leave. “Come back…” as she said it, Zalika knew that he wouldn’t, and that chasing him was pointless.
In the dark, when she lay down to sleep, Zalika dreamed of Kaddyjutu holding her, and of pushing her mother away, saying, “I am almost a woman now.”
“Ah! Are you now, and at the ripe old age of six? Well, I am still your mother, and I will hug you anytime I like. What do you think of that?”
“Always?”
“Yes, always!”
“Then you will have to catch me,” said Zalika as she ran off.
“Then catch you I will,” the chase ended with the two of them laughing and Kaddy holding the squirming Zalika off the ground.
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The dream then shifted to the riders coming from across the Serengeti, and Kaddy screaming a warning while she ran to the hut where Zalika's infant brother lay napping.
Zalika woke up in the dark, sweating with the echo of the terror of that day so long ago, and ashamed she could not remember just how long it had been. She remembered her time in the herd, but with no sense of time or context, it was all just then. She knew she had been with the herd more than a year because she could remember the full migration south to north and back again, but she did not know how many times she had done it. She slept poorly for the rest of the night. In the morning, she woke feeling watched and noticed the smell of the leopard boy was still around. “What would the Maasai think of you? What would my mother have thought of you?” There was no response. That disappointed Zalika a bit, but it was expected.
Over the next few weeks, the leopard boy would come and go from her sight, but she could nearly always smell him, especially when he had made a kill. As time went on, he would spend more of it in close and even let her touch him occasionally. The more she saw him, the more certain Zalika was that to regain her own humanity, she must help him regain his.
“Leopard Boy, when are you going to help with getting the food? I feed you every night, and you bring nothing.” The leopard boy stood upright for the first time since he had let Zalika see him. He growled something complex to her and walked off into the bush.
Zalika quickly lost his scent, and for the next two days, she could not smell him at all. Until he came from downwind, again on all fours, and with part of an antelope in his mouth. He dropped it at her feet with more complex growling and some yowling. “It took me over a month to speak at all. Don't give up.” Zalika built a fire and cooked the piece of antelope. While it cooked, she lost her appetite but felt obliged to eat the gift. “Thank you, Leopard Boy,” was all she could think of to say.
Leopard Boy stayed in camp with her that night, and for the first time since leaving the herd, she didn't feel alone in the dark. In the morning, she told him to “stay here, I will return in a day or two. I need to get some things.”
Zalika would have to avoid the Maasai, but she was getting particularly good at that. She walked to the nearest village of her people. She had been avoiding the villages once she realized the people would leave if she tried to approach. She had approached from a direction she was sure to have been seen, and now she just stood there, in the open, waiting.
Eventually, an elder, probably a priest, came out and stopped at what he seemed to think was a safe distance from her. He was clearly frightened but stood his ground. “What do you want of us?”
“I want two robes, a sling, incense, and a small pot. I want you to remember that I was born of your people. For this, I will bless you and your village.”
“And if we leave?”
“I will enter the village and take what I want. If it is not there, I will follow you until I get what I require.” Zalika was not at all sure this was going to work, but if it didn't, there were other villages.
“Stay where you are, I will get what you require of us.” The elder left and returned a short while later with the robes and other things Zalika had asked for. “Take them and leave.” He placed them neatly on the ground as close to Zalika as he was willing to get, and backed away several paces.
Zalika casually stepped forward and collected what had been offered. Speaking loud enough to be heard by the entire village, she said. “You drove me out when I was changed, and now you shun me. For this, I will go over the mountains and leave you. My true name is Zalika, use it if you wish. Tonight, I will bless you as I promised, but you shall see no more of me.” She turned her naked back on her people and her past.
It was nearly dawn when she reached her camp. Keeping her word, Zalika performed a simple blessing before the sun brought the new day. It was not exactly a formal blessing, but it was sincere. Next, she dressed herself in one of the robes, and as she did so, she found one of the striped figurines wrapped in it. She held it in her hands and turned it over, looking at it from all angles.
With the figurine in her hands, she knew that something of them would always be with her because they were her mother’s people, and she would not let go of that. Without thinking about it, she crouched down beside the cold cooking fire and rubbed the figurine in the ashes until it was all black. She tore a scrap from the robe she wore and fashioned a small robe for the figurine.
As she did this, Leopard Boy tore a piece of black fabric from the sling. He held it in his hands standing upright, waiting for Zalika.
Zalika handed the figurine to Leopard Boy, who wrapped it in the black cloth. Then he bound it with thread pulled from the sling. Zalika noticed that as he did this, his tears fell on the figurine in his hands. When he finished warping it, he handed the figurine back to Zalika, who lit the incense while Leopard Boy dug a small hole in the ground. Zalika placed the figurine in the hole and began to sing as she filled in the hole, covering the wrapped figurine. She sang of her mother and father. She sang of her brother and sisters.
As she sang, her voice sounded clear and high with a strong, clean sound she'd never had as a child. She was joined by a deep, rough voice that gained clarity and power as it went, a voice that she felt in her chest as well as her own. The two of them sang of their families and the lives lost to them now. As they sang, Zalika felt her song reach across time and space to be answered by other voices. She closed her eyes against her tears and continued to sing. When she opened them, there was her mother, her sisters, and her brother. Others were there too, a man and a woman with the Leopard Boy, who had stopped singing and was hugging them both.
Zalika could bear no more. Where was her father, and why had he not come with the others? “Father is still alive, silly girl.” Zalika heard her sister’s voice for the first time since the raid. Kaddy stepped up and hugged her child. “You will do just fine, but always remember I love you, my child.” Then, with her hands on Zalika’s shoulders, Kaddy went on to say. “We cannot stay, and you must move on.” Kaddy caressed Zalika’s face with both of her hands. “It is good to be remembered, thank you.” She hugged Zalika and was gone, leaving only the song’s brief echo.
“My name is Jamaani, and I remember.” Zalika looked over to where he stood alone again as he closed his eyes and shook. She took the remaining robe and wrapped it around the leopard boy, wiping the tears from the fur of his face as she did so, and held him until he stopped crying.