“Don’t be too sorry, ‘cause when I die, she will be waiting for me. Till then, she is in here.” She put her hand over her heart. “Sometimes she’s out there too! There is no difference in the way God treats us when we die. I follow Aiheu, and believe that all animals are brothers and sisters.”
Metutu was shocked. “You’re an Aiheuist? I always thought you were one of us.”
“One of you?” She smiled. “Everyone is one of you and one of me. We are all one large family. All that divides us is our opinion, but no opinion alters the truth So there is no us and them except in the mind.”
“I guess so,” he said, dubiously. “Did your Aunt Asumini teach you that?”
“I have many good friends who happen to be lionesses.”
“Pfff! Any lions?”
“Only a couple of times ever saw a grown lion, and didn’t get to say much, but their manes are so wonderful. You know, I have a secret desire to hold one around the neck and roll in his mane.”
“You would disappear down his throat in seconds. Maybe two whole bites, if he didn’t swallow you whole.”
“Have you forgotten the leopardess so quickly? Didn’t you see how she did not bite when her honor dictated it? Teeth and claws are sharp, but much more of them is soft and furry.” She sat back against a tree trunk. “They teach you that God is just a bigger one of us. As if one of us could hope to become like Him by simply learning the right spells and overcoming mortality. No. There is a fairness and kindness in Him that is a goal to strive for, but which we could never reach.”
“What does Aiheu look like?”
“Everything and nothing at the same time.”
“Now that makes NO SENSE.”
“Oh? Unlike those who follow the great ape Pishtim, we believe Aiheu is aware of all things and all peoples. Otherwise, how could he hear our prayers? So he must not be an old ape, or he would only be one place at a time. The wind is real, but you don’t see it’s shape. You know it’s there because you feel its effects. And if he is not an old ape, than we apes have no basic superiority unless we choose to ACT superior. And that does not come through trickery or negotiation. It comes through compassion, generosity, and honesty. The traits that make us noble make us more like God. But there are others besides us who have those traits, therefore all animals must be brothers and free to please the gods. And greatness is a matter of the heart, not an accident of birth.”
“That’s a really nice philosophy. You’re as clever as Little Brother Chako!”
“I hope not! Little Brother Chako was a rogue, someone who did not honor his promises. How we could pick someone like that for a hero is a slap in the faces of the gods. When I ask you to make a promise, I expect you to keep it. When you do, I look up to you. Those who treat me honestly are my brothers and sisters, not Little Brother Chako.”
Metutu looked at her in shock, but not outrage. “I bet you spend a lot of time just thinking.”
“You should give it a try, Metutu.”
“As if I never do?”
“I don’t mean it that way. It’s just that the problem with mandrill philosophy is that they teach you WHAT to think, not HOW to think. We’re not supposed to question authority.”
“Whoa! We’ll have to continue this talk sometime.” Metutu went home. He was somewhat thoughtful, for she had made many good points. “All animals are brothers,” he said to himself. “Even the leopardess and I.”
When he reached his home, old Wajoli was waiting for him with a bowl. “Here, Master Metutu, your favorite dish. Elephant Stew.”
Metutu took the bowl and smelled it. “Ah, fresh and sweet. You did well.”
Metutu noticed how Wajoli’s eyes followed the bowl. “Have you eaten yet?”
“No sir. I was running late, so I came straight over here. I’ll take care of you first. When you are finished, if you don’t need me more, I’d like to go scrounge something up.”
“I see.” Metutu held out the bowl. “Scrounge this up. I’ll get something from the orchard.”
“Oh, no sir! If your father found out, he wouldn’t like that.”
“IF he found out. But you can go hide behind those trees.”
“Is it not to your liking?”
“It’s fine. But you know something, Wajoli? If you would be like the gods, you must practice compassion, generosity and honesty. You’ve always done right by me. Now I’m going to do right by you.” He handed the bowl to Wajoli and gave him a little pat. “Enjoy, old friend.”
“I will,” he said. “I’ll enjoy knowing you are the next Chief, even if I don’t live to see it.”
A smile spread across Metutu’s face. He headed for the orchard with a great joy in his heart that was almost too great for words. “Yes! I feel more godlike already!”
CHAPTER 8: THE GREAT OUTDOORS
Metutu yawned, scratching his back languidly as he lay sprawled upon a branch high in the tall tree that Makedde had made his home in. Initially, the move had been exciting. Metutu had thought that he would enjoy the independence from his parents, but after only a few days, he had begun to miss the comforts of home already. He had napped fitfully the first night there, awakening abruptly to see the stars dimming in the early morning light. He had arisen eagerly, sitting up and stretching...how disappointed he was to find no mother there with a bowl of elephant stew to greet him! No Wajoli, no Wandani, no Asumini. Only his brother there to greet him.
Makedde picked up his staff, twirling it playfully. "I usually go for a walk in the mornings. Would you like to come?"
"Yes!"
The two descended carefully, pausing at the base of the tree. Makedde peered about thoughtfully, then looked at Metutu. "Which way shall we go?"
"Uh...that way, I guess." Metutu pointed.
"Why go that way?"
Metutu frowned. "I don't know. Is there something wrong?"
“Should there be?” Makedde asked, looking at him intently.
“Is there a swamp out that way? Mosquitoes? Snakes??”
“What do YOU think,” Makedde said with a serious nod and a wink. “Use your powers of observation.”
He stared in the general direction. “Well I....” Metutu stopped, looked at the hint of a smile on Makedde’s face, and shoved him. “You dirty lizard you! Gods, I hate it when you do that!”
Makedde laughed aloud. “I can’t help it! You should have seen your face!” He patted Metutu’s shoulder. “Come on. I’ll take you on my usual route.”
They set off at a leisurely pace, enjoying the cool breeze, and feeling the morning sun warm their back. Makedde's home lay at the border between the jungle and savanna, and Metutu stared at the new world just waiting to be explored. Few trees dotted the greenish gold sea of grass which was swept with waves as the winds played tag among the acacias. Small islands of scrub brush thrust their stubby crowns defiantly towards the sky. Here and there the thorny acacias had begun to put in an appearance, and in the distance, Metutu saw what looked like the trunk of a dead tree, pointing heavenward like an accusing finger!
His pulse pounded in his ears, and he suddenly realized he had been holding his breath. Exhaling with a rush, he laughed aloud in sheer delight. "Gods, this is so beautiful!"
Makedde smiled at him. "Now you see why I live at the edge of the forest."
"Father said it was because you were a hermit."
The older mandrill burst out laughing. "On the contrary. I live here because I prefer EVERYONE’S company."
"Huh?"
"Come on, I'll show you around." Makedde jumped lightly down to the bottom of a wadi and motioned to Metutu to follow. Shrugging, the younger mandrill complied, following as his brother strolled slowly along the channel.