There was a dancing blue light and laughter. Asumini’s laughter. Busara’s laughter. As he stared, the light resolved into two figures. The lioness squatted down, her tail lashing. The mandrill began to dance about, taunting her. “You can’t catch me!”
“Oh yeah?” Asumini came up, her back legs tensed to spring. She launched after him and he sprang straight up to let her pass underneath. He fell with a plop on her back and laughed. She wheeled about, scooping him in the crook of her arm. Then playfully but gently she tossed him into the air and caught him in her powerful forearms.
Busara’s arms went around her neck and he kissed her around the face. “I love you so much, I could just eat you up!”
Delighted, Metutu came running. “Wait for me! Hey, it’s me, Metutu!”
They looked at him, a calm smile on their faces. Asumini ran to meet him, stopping just short of a collision. She said not a word, but took in a deep breath, then blew a puff of wind in Metutu’s face. It smelled like wild honey. It intoxicated him.
“Asumini,” he said, drunk with the fragrance of the blessed. “My girl!”
She breathed on him again. “Sleep. Dream. Be happy.”
He collapsed to the earth, looking up while his heavy lids would remain open. Asumini and Busara looked down and smiled.
CHAPTER 25: THE SIGN
His rest was disturbed by the early morning singing of birds. He looked about. The sun was up, and in the early morning light the field looked almost magical. Where had the night gone!
He was hungry, and for once no one had prepared breakfast. His stomach was ready to mutiny and he had to eat something! He took a few supplementary bits of dried fruit from his basket and managed to locate a few ripe fruits on Mafutu bush. This would have to do. Taking a little of his precious water supply, he ate slowly to make the meal more filling, then relied on his morning meditation to take his mind off his mean diet. He prayed for each of the friends he left behind, and for a few that recently went to join Aiheu in the heavens. Finally, he remembered Asumini. How his mother had wanted to see them marry before she died! But far removed from the sights and people he associated with his duty and his griefs, he could contemplate Asumini on her own merits. And what his cleared head and purged heart were telling him was unmistakable: he loved her! Beneath the plans of others and the call of duty was a real love. He missed her terribly, and hoped she felt the same way about him.
He traveled far that day. There was a change of scenery, and he seriously worried that he could get lost if he did not watch for landmarks, and perhaps leave a few. The path was looking more and more like a simple scratch in the earth, and he worried that this game trail may disappear completely.
It did worse than that. It was joined and criss-crossed by many others. Now he knew that without God’s guidance he may never find his home. But still he kept his faith in the fore and continued.
Finally, he had made it to the savanna. It was a land of windswept beauty, but it was also a land that had never known the Peace of Asumini. Here he was not corban. “Aiheu abamami!” he cried. Surely he would not be attacked with the holy name of God on his lips! “Aiheu abamami!” He saw the eagle on the kopje, and his heart danced! The eagle looked at him, said, “Aiheu abamami!” and vanished. So he knew that was his place, and he sat on the rise to pray. Though it was a very exposed spot, he was no longer afraid.
He ate certain plants he found there, but only at sunrise and sunset. His Spartan regimen was enough to frighten most young bucks away. There was very little sleep, much prayer and chanting, and bedding on the bare ground at the mercy of the gods to keep him safe.
The first two days yielded no visions. But the simple living he endured opened his spirit to the small voices inside more than days of talking to others could have. At times, he could feel the presence of Asumini and Busara, giving him subtle nudges in the right direction. His prayers flowed naturally from the heart--they were not forced or contrived. The light-headed sensation that came from minimal food and much water cleared out all of the spiritual impurities of his past. He felt like a gourd ready to be filled. Somehow, he knew he would not wait much longer. Somehow, he was certain that the gods were with him.
By the third day, he passed a very important stage. He felt glad that he had come, whether or not he saw a spectacle. For his heart knew a peace it had never felt since his mother’s illness. Once again he felt like a fresh young student listening to Busara’s stories in the cave.
Finally on the fourth day, he saw a sign. From the jungle came a spirit leopardess. He knew her the moment his eyes caught sight of her. He could feel her strength, but he could not feel fear. “I greet you, Mother of Death.”
“Mother of life now,” she purred. Indeed, in her soft hazel eyes was warmth and approval. “I spared you for a reason that even I did not know. It was perhaps the greatest thing I ever did.”
“You taught me that other people have feelings too.” He held out his arm. “Asumini is not here now. I would apologize for my own behavior, from the heart.”
She came to him and smiled. “Yes, you are changed.” She purred and quickly touched his hand with her tongue. “I tell you this day you will find answers.” Before Metutu could answer her, she had vanished.
It was a puzzling saying. Did she mean, “Today I tell you that you will find answers,” or “I tell you that you will find answers today?” One way or another, it gave him hope, and he renewed his efforts, praying to Aiheu with arms outstretched. He looked into the golden sun, then bowed his head to the ground. By concentrating on the phrase “Aiheu abamami,” he could block out all other things. His excitement made it difficult to achieve the state of openness he desired, but eventually even his excitement was set aside and in the purity of his fasted body and open mind came the realization that he was being tugged in the spirit. He closed his eyes, then bowed his head to the ground once more.
Suddenly he felt himself yanked upright, though he didn’t feel any hands on him. He opened his eyes and saw that he was in a very bleak place, no trees, no grass, no birds in the sky. All is dead.
Then he saw was a pure white lioness. He had seen a leopard close up before, staring at him from tree to tree. He’d been terrified of encountering such a thing again, but she was bigger--much bigger--and still he was not frightened. She spoke to him of strange and wonderful things that in the barren world were like an oasis of joy:
Her voice, like a siren, pulled him onward and upward.
She nearly led him to walk off a cliff, but at the last minute she prevented it. He pursued her and she ran from him, but no faster than he could follow. At the top of the sacred mountain, before a cave, she came to him. “Metutu,” she half whispered. “Have you ever heard the sun rise? Have you ever tasted the wind?”
“No, my lady.”
“Neither have I.” Her laughter was merry and infectious. “Yet stranger things shall you hear and taste. Now let us make life.” Rather surprisingly, a pure white lion came over the ridge. Quiet as a snowflake, he padded toward the white lioness. “Stay here,” she said to Metutu, nuzzling the white lion passionately and following him into the cave.