DriveThruFiction.com

Saturday, August 28, 2010

The Woman Who Could Not Speak

There was nothing more exciting for Youngchild than to ask a question of Oldman and listen to his never ending tales and parables to illustrate an issue. She learned so much more from this ancient friend than anyone else. Where he came up with these stories was a mystery, but they always hit the mark and gave Youngchild a lot to think about.



The Woman Who Could Not Speak
By Victor Epp
            "What is that awful smell?" exclaimed Oldman as he entered the kitchen and seeing Youngchild at the stove.
            "Oh, these are only some cakes I am making."
            "Whew," he said, " makes my eyes water. Are you sure you are doing it right?"
            "Oh yes," said Youngchild. "I know the recipe exactly. It's just the way great, great granny taught me."
            "Hmm. Are you missing her?" asked Oldman. He knew the great old lady had passed away a few months ago.
            "Well maybe," answered Youngchild. "I just had this awful urge to bake these cakes today, and now that I'm doing it, I feel better. I don't know why."
            "Perhaps your granny's spirit has come to visit you. Did you ever think of that?"
            "That can't be right," said Youngchild. "She's dead."
            "That's true, she is, but I wonder what made you start baking those cakes today. Was it because you were remembering your granny and you wanted to do something that reminded you of her? Or," he continued, "did the cakes come into your mind for some unknown reason and when you started baking you couldn't help but think of her?"           
            Youngchild looked puzzled. "How did you know that?" was the question.
            "I didn't," replied Oldman, "I was just asking."
            "Okay then," said Youngchild, "that's what I'll ask. That will be my question to you."
            "Let me see, I think I remember a story about this very thing," said Oldman.
            "Wait, I'll just finish the cakes and then we can go outside among the spirits so that you can tell it to me."
            "Oh," laughed Oldman, "I think there are enough spirits right in this room to guide me. I can feel them. I think they're coming out of your smelly cakes."
###
            ‘The story I know about was not so long ago in the scheme of things, but it might have been going on for a long time before. It is said that every seventh generation things are renewed and come again. That is where the saying comes from that before you decide what to do about important things, you should look back seven generations and look ahead seven generations. For all I know, it has been happening as long as people have been on the earth.
            This took place about two hundred years ago. Just at the outskirts of a village somewhere east of here, there was a family who was very much upset by their youngest daughter. She was already three years old and still hadn't uttered a sound. Try as they might, the father and mother could not teach her to speak. At first they thought it was a game with her to get their attention. She certainly understood what they said, since she did everything asked of her, but she just would not speak. They consulted one of the Elders for advice about the girl. The Elder, a respected woman of the community could not find a solution, but urged the parents to be patient. She asked them many questions, thinking that someone had perhaps stolen the girl's voice, but no answers came. Even the shaman could not call up the voice of the girl. The whole village got to know about it and all were very concerned about the meaning of this. They had never seen or heard about any such thing before and took it as a bad omen. Everyone avoided the girl, thinking that something bad might happen to them if they associated with her.
            Her parents worried that the other people might avoid them also in the presence of the girl, so they took to keeping her out of sight. As she grew into a young woman, people began to forget about her because she was rarely to be seen. Her mother kept her indoors to help with chores and the cooking and cleaning. If the family wanted to invite somebody to their home, they made sure that their daughter was not there. Often they sent her on errands to bring water from the stream that flowed from a waterfall about an hour's walk away through the forest. At first, it was very frightening for the girl to walk by herself through the trees.
            Every noise, every movement filled her with terror, but when she got to the stream, it's rushing whisper seemed to take away her fears and give her the courage she needed to return home with her water bags. Before long she began to explore the stream up and down it's bed ever further. It was fascinating. Here and there were little pools that had formed in depressions in the rock. They were crystal clear and showed her reflection perfectly against the dark stone beneath. At first the girl was startled to see another person looking back at her from the water. But it wasn't long before she figured out that it was her own reflection, and soon she was moving this way and that, watching the reflection move with her. She sat down at the edge of the pool, leaning over so that she could see her face. She studied it carefully, moving her lips as if to speak. The reflection moved it's lips, but no sound came from it. It was just like her - it was her! She was so fascinated that she had forgotten the time and only when she noticed the sun sinking did she fill her water bags and return home.
            The parents had been busy with honored guests at their home that day and didn't notice the daughter's long absence until after the visitors had left. They were still feeling good about the visit when she returned home and did not scold her for being away so long. The girl, happy with the discovery of her new friend in the water, went immediately to bed.
            She rose early the next morning and taking a little food along with her water bags, left eagerly for the stream. In her anticipation, she began to notice other things along the forest path. There were plants growing that she recognized from her mother's supplies. And there were still others that she had remembered from the time of the healing ceremonies of the shaman. She also saw here and there, pieces of wood that might be brought home for the fire. All of these things were kept in her mind as she went to the stream.
The sun was bright that morning and when she bent over the pool, her reflection sparkled in the water as if to greet her. This time she studied herself more carefully, noticing how her eyes looked, her nose her chin, and her mouth. Slowly she began to move her lips. She tried to make them look like those of others when they were saying words. But she had great difficulty because she had never done this before. After a long time, her mouth got too tired to do it anymore. She decided to leave her water bags and explore further upstream toward the waterfall. The closer she got to it, the more beautiful the forest grew around her, and the faster the stream. In a sunny little clearing, she stopped to rest and eat the food she had brought with her. Here in the warmth of the sun, she felt the earth beneath her and felt welcome to be here among the trees near the water and close to the earth. She offered a silent prayer to the forest and the stream and all the things in them, giving thanks for their acceptance of her.
On the way back to the pool that contained her image, the girl gathered as much firewood as she could hold and set it down beside her water bags. Looking once more at her image, she found it smiling at her. It was a reward she had not expected, but gave her a good feeling about herself.
            The parents were pleased with the things their daughter brought back and gave her a hide rope with which she might carry more wood on her next trip, showing her how to tie it so her load would be held securely. While listening intently to the instructions, the girl mainly focused on watching how her mother's mouth looked with each word she spoke, memorizing the shape of each word. She gave no hint of what she was doing, and her attention was taken as interest in the instructions.
            Soon the girl was bringing home large bundles of firewood along with her water, and also a variety of herbs for her mother's cooking. The parents were pleased. She was a good help to the family and her time away allowed them to take up their lives as almost normal. They had become accustomed to her silent obedience.
            It was not so with the young people of the village. As children they had taunted her and called her names. They thought of her as strange and not as good as they were. Since she could not defend herself, the girl avoided them as much as possible. Then, as she spent more and more time in the forest, she was seldom seen by the others, and as such, she became a mysterious curiosity for them. Yet they were not brave enough to follow her into the woods. Rumors began to circulate about her and her strange ways. Talk was that she went to meet evil spirits and if they followed her and were found out, something very bad would happen to them. 
            There was one young man though, who was bolder than the rest. He was of an age where he was looking to take a wife, and he had watched the girl who could not speak when she came home with her heavy load of wood. She was certainly strong enough to keep a good house, and she was not unpleasant to look at. True, she could not speak, but he could always take another to help him entertain guests. It was a time when a man could have more than one wife if he could support and keep each in a good way. With someone like this, he could spend more important time with the other men, for he was ambitious and it was a serious time for the people dealing with the strangers from across the great sea.
            He was interested enough to follow her one of her trips. He didn't know where she would lead him or how long it would take, but he made up his mind to do it. He was after all, a good hunter and not afraid of what dangers the forest might hold. He felt confident enough that he could follow her without being discovered. 
            It took several weeks before he discovered how early he had to rise in order to see her leave. And she did not always come home on the same day. Sometimes she was gone four or five days at a time. But determined as he was, he finally found her early one morning, leaving on her now familiar path. Giving enough time to enable him to follow at a distance, the young man tracked the girl as she made her way. It was quite easy since she made no effort to hide her trail. When she had reached the pool where she drew her water, she left her water bags and moved on.
            Suddenly he stopped. There she was, sitting on a small log, making animated gestures to whatever was before her. She stood up, waved her arms around her, turning completely around and seemed to be reaching for the sky. Then she bent down and picked some things, putting them in her bag and continued her journey.  Strange, thought the young man as he kept following her.
            Along the path, there was an outcropping of stone where the girl stopped again and knelt close to it, touching and rubbing the stone. This was some sort of ceremony he thought, wondering what would come next. She stayed there a long time and he was getting uncomfortable hiding in silence. It was almost dark when she finally arose to take up her journey once more. The young man dared not follow in the dim light for fear that he might stumble in the dark and be discovered, so he waited until she had gone some distance before he settled himself for the night.
            At the first light, he roused himself and started up the path he knew the girl had taken. It was strange to him. He had not been here before, although he knew it was leading to the waterfall. He could hear it's sound in the distance as he approached. Mid day found him finally at the fall, it's waters rushing over the ancient stones and cascading in layers over the various formations and outcroppings until it finally dropped into the bed of the stream they had been following. There was the girl, almost at the bottom of the fall. Quickly, he hid himself so that he could observe her without being seen. She was preparing something and he was curious to see what would happen.
            Taking two long, stout branches, which were almost twice as tall as she was, the girl walked toward a place near the bottom of the fall where the water had carved out a large cavern in the stones. There the water lay mirror still before it's final fall into the streambed. At the water's edge she removed her clothing and picking up her branches, waded into water toward the cavern. Once there the girl climbed onto the rim of the cavern, balancing herself on the edge. She took the leather thong in her hand to tie one of the branches to the front of her ankle, and spreading her legs as far apart as she could, tied her other ankle to it. Then, taking the other branch in her hands, she placed it over the rim and slowly began to inch forward until she was spread-eagled over the cavern, supported only by her hands and her ankles on the branches. She lay flat like this for a very long time before she finally climbed down. Such a ritual puzzled the young man. He didn't know what to make of it, but whatever it was, it took a great deal of strength to perform. It was almost like the strengthening games he had heard about from the people in the north to help them hunt on the ice.
            The young man hadn't noticed before, but the girl had a small fire burning at the place where she had probably slept. Now she was preparing something to eat, and suddenly he remembered that he hadn't eaten himself since two days before. His stomach growled its need. The pungent smell that came from the fire was something he hadn't smelled before and it filled his nostrils. 
The girl, having eaten the small cakes she had made for herself, took down her small camp and started her journey back home. The young man waited until he was sure she was not coming back and went to examine what he had seen. Getting to the cavern in the waterfall was more difficult than he had imagined. The footing was slippery and the water like ice, it was so cold. Climbing up the stones that formed the rounded cavern was even more strenuous. He nearly lost his balance when he reached the top. He looked down into it and saw the most wondrous sight. Through the opening at the bottom where the water slipped into the streambed, the light from the sun's reflection on the other side filtered up to the surface of the very still pool at the top. It was like a lighted mirror showing him his own image in reflection. Finally he drew himself away from the hypnotizing pool and made his way to the girl's campsite. There on a large leaf lay one of the cakes she had made. It was still warm. Had she forgotten it, or had she known of his presence and made it for him? The odor coming from it was the same sharp smell he had noticed as he had watched her cook it over her fire. The taste was as sharp as the smell. It burned in his stomach, but he was so hungry he ate it all and when he had finished, he was satisfied.
            Surprised as they were, the girl's parents were overjoyed at the young man's proposal to take the girl as wife. They praised her for her good work and obedience, and while she could not speak, she understood everything and would make a good mate for him. Arrangements were made and the two built their own lodge. The girl, now woman bore two sons and a daughter and life settled in as best that it could. The woman still went into the forest as she had always done to bring water and wood, and when she went, she took her children with her, teaching them her ways and the ways of the forest. She kept a good house for her husband.
            It was a time of change for the people of the community. White traders were moving ever closer and demanding furs to be traded for their own goods. The young man, enterprising as he was looked at this as an opportunity to better himself and willingly dealt with them. But his wife scorned the things he brought home for her. She would have nothing to do with them, preferring the things she was used to. He just shrugged and continued in his dealings with the traders. He would soon be able to buy another wife who would appreciate his gifts a little more than this one. He was growing tired of her silence and would find someone to keep better company with him. With these thoughts, he spent more and more time with the traders, trying to increase his holdings. He was changing too, taking on their ways.
            Late one night he came stumbling home, very drunk from the liquor he had taken with his new friends. He made a great noise coming in, calling for his wife to make him something to eat for he was very hungry. In his drunken state he clamored so loudly that he woke the children as well. They had never seen their father like this before and they were afraid, clinging to their mother who silently began to prepare some food for him.
            He was standing in the middle of the lodge, loudly demanding to be served immediately, for he had been negotiating long and hard, and deserved to be looked after better than this. Suddenly his wife spun around and in an instant, hurled the black iron pot he had brought her from the traders with such a speed past his head that all he saw was a blurred black streak.
            He started to lunge at her, but she was pointing her hand behind him. In his self-indulgence, he had forgotten to close the entrance, and there, just inside, lay a large black wolf dead on the floor beside the iron pot that had just crushed his skull. Its mouth was covered in the foam of a rabid animal. The drunken stupor drained from the man as he realized his wife had just saved his life. Turning back to her, he saw her holding her children closely to her, the complexion on her face as dark as the pot she had used as a weapon, and her eyes seemed ablaze with the fire of anger. Her husband stood motionless, facing her. When he found his voice to start to speak, she motioned silence with her finger over her lips. Then she pointed for him to sit in a way to face the dead wolf. He did not hesitate for he knew what his wife had just done for him. She then brought the children to sit by him, one on each side. She brought them a tea concoction she had made from some of the herbs she gathered in the forest and went back to her cooking while they drank it in silence.
            A strange, sharp smell filled their nostrils as they drank their tea in silence in front of the wolf's carcass, but they dared not turn or move to see what it was. Before long, the wife brought forward the small cakes bearing the strange odor and offered it for them to eat. The taste was as sharp as the smell, but they were delicious and filling.
            The wife seated herself before the husband and children, her back to the animal. She motioned at her husband's eyes and then pointed to her mouth so that he could watch. Then, without sound, she formed words.
            "If you listen with your eyes," she said silently, " you will notice that I can speak as well as you." She did this slowly to give him a chance to understand.
            The husband was so dumbfounded he could not believe his eyes. He could understand what she was saying, even though she made no sound. He had known the girl who could not speak all her life, but had never dreamed he could communicate with her. His only thoughts had been that she could keep a good house for him and look after his needs while he did what was important to him. Now it was as if he had found an entirely new person whom he had not known before, and he wanted to know everything about her. How had she learned to do this with no voice? Why did she not let him know before?
            The wife's expression softened. She could see that maybe she had been wrong in not telling him before, but for so long she had been shut away out of the minds of all the people, she had just accepted that she was no more than a servant with no standing. Her husband seemed eager to learn more and his eyes showed a newfound respect for her, so she mouthed the words, “Many answers are in the forest. I will show you if you come with me again.”
            Surprised again, he had not realized she had known about his presence long ago when he had followed her. This woman who was his wife, had many untold qualities he had yet to discover. He made a great ceremony of disposing of the dead animal, ensuring that everything was clean of any disease. He paid public honor and respect to his wife for her courage in killing the attacking animal, much to the surprise of all the people who didn't know what to make of this. He did not however let them know about her ability to speak without a voice. She had made him promise this.
            When the man, his wife, and the children left on their journey into the forest, they took no food with them, only some cooking utensils. It would be a long time before they returned, and the husband worried about how they would survive.  He need not to have been concerned because his wife found what they needed from the bounty the forest held, making her teas from various herbs and her strong cakes. Most of their time was spent near the waterfall, which held a special attraction for the woman. There she finally showed her husband how she had learned to speak without a voice. Wading into the water with her branches, she climbed up on the stone rim of the cavern, inviting him to follow and look into it. There she spread herself over the cavern and he could see her perfect reflection in the mirror still water with the sunlight streaming upward from the opening underneath. It was a magical picture for him as he watched her moving lips saying words he could not hear. He understood all her words. What he didn't understand was where she got the strength to hold herself up over the cavern for such a long period of time without falling in. She seemed to be poised over it for a long, long time, perfectly flat above the pool in it. Finally when she did climb down, he asked her about it.
            She was very calm . . . peaceful, as she explained in her silent language. The pool was a sacred place. It had given her the gift of her own spirit. The light in it was just right to show her reflection perfectly so that she could practice how to make the shapes of words with her mouth just as she had seen people do. When she could understand what her mirror image said back to her, she knew what the pool was giving her. It was very hard to be able to balance in that position without falling.  A great deal of strength was needed but she made the effort willingly in gratitude for the great gift she received in return. Whenever she was scorned or made fun of, she would return here to take comfort from the pool. It gave her the courage she needed to go back to the village. Another gift she received from her perseverance was the physical strength to carry the great loads of wood. The pool had given her more than had any of the people she had known in her life. She had the inner strength of her spirit, and the physical strength needed to do her work with dignity and ease.
            The husband was barely able to grasp what his wife practiced with such determination, even though he understood her words easily. Even so, he asked if he might try this exercise so he could experience what she had described. She warned that it was not as easy as it looked, and he must be careful not to spread himself out too far until he was sure he had the strength. The pool was sacred to her and it must not be disturbed lest it become angry and steal his spirit away. He did as she instructed and indeed it was very hard. Each day he spread himself out a little further until he was fully extended. He could not stay this way very long, but long enough to see the strange light in the pool. When he returned to the bank, he was struck by the peaceful feeling of his own inner strength and at last he understood.
            The wife cautioned though, that the feeling would go away when they returned to the village among the other people, and especially the traders. It would only remain with him after long years of seeking and embracing it. Now that he knew where it was, he could come to this place to strengthen himself whenever he felt the need. The husband gave grateful thanks to his wife for her gift to him, and he practiced what she taught him for many days until he felt a serene power coming from inside himself.
            The little family packed their few belongings and began the long journey back to their village. Along the way they stopped where the wife could gather a mighty load of firewood to take back with them. Her husband said, "Let me also take a load. I want to share the burden with you."
            The wife shook her head. "No," she said soundlessly, "there are some things that are woman's work. Those things should be left to women to do. Men should do men's things, and women should do women's things."
            Her husband prevailed though, saying, "If we are seen coming into the village, each carrying as big a load as we can carry, it will show the bond between us, and the pride we take in sharing all things. It will show that we are a strong family and we will be respected for it."
            The wife considered for sometime. Finally she agreed that this would be a good thing and so they started back, laden with the tremendous weight to carry. "And another thing," said the husband under the strain of his load, "if any man wants to laugh at me for doing woman's work, let him try carrying this weight for a while."   His wife smiled.
            The whole village turned out to see the family return. They had been gone so long that the people suspected the worst. It was quite a sight to see them under the weight of their load of firewood, even the children. Something was different, they could tell. Just what it was, they were not sure. In honor of the occasion, a big feast was held. The husband, while he seemed changed, was full of magnetic energy. His natural gift of attracting people around him was enhanced by his new vigor and soon he had a majority following of the people in the village. The traders on the other hand, didn't know what to make of this new man. He was the same as he had been before, but there was a new light in his eye. He no longer visited them at their camps but instead invited them to his. At first, they were delighted and came eagerly. They brought much liquor, but the husband declined, saying that it was no longer strong enough for him. He offered them instead, some of his wife's pungent tea. They took a smell and declined, shuddering.
            "Very strong," the husband boasted, winking privately at his wife.  "A toast," he said imitating the traders' custom. He sipped his tea while they sipped their whiskey. Soon their tongues loosened and their brains slowed, and the husband noticed that it was he who had the advantage with his clear head - another gift from his wife who could not speak.
            The husband grew to gain great respect of his people. They made him their leader and began to follow his example and heed his advice. As his popularity grew, so did his responsibility, for these were not good times for his people, with more and more traders coming with ever increasing demands. When the weight of his burden became too great, he and his wife and children would leave the village and be gone for some time. No one knew where they went, but on their return, he . . .they would be renewed in their spirits and be able to wisely lead their people for many years.
            After the husband died in his old age, the woman who could not speak took to helping in the community. She was much loved and respected for her devotion to giving to others. Many things had changed over the years, but she kept steadfastly to her old ways. Even her great grandchildren who were now grown tried to bring her the things that would make life more comfortable. She would refuse, preferring instead the practices she had known all her life that had served her so well.
            One day the woman who could not speak, summoned her whole family to her; her son and daughter and their families who were now also in their old age, her grandchildren, her great grandchildren, and even her great, great, granddaughter who was then just a young girl. Each of them came because the old matriarch who was now well over a hundred years old would not call everyone together unless it was important. She did not believe in idle things. She told them in her silent way that she must make one more journey to the sacred place and it was necessary for all of them to join her. They tried to convince her that it would be too difficult for her, but she would have none of it. Frail as she was, she went with them slowly and with their help, made stops in the places that were important to her. Even though they all knew about these things that she had taught them many times over, they paid careful attention to her silent words. She insisted on making her strong tea and the pungent cakes, and serving it to them to her large family. She would accept no help even though it took great effort.
            Finally they reached the waterfall and there at the bank of the stream, she gathered them all around her. It was the last light of day and the air was still and warm. The woman who could not speak sat facing the sun so the others could see her lips move in order to understand her.
            "This is the sacred place," she said silently as the others watched closely, "from which first I, and then my husband have been given the gift of our spirits. We have come here faithfully as often as we needed and paid our respect and given thanks. It has never failed us. Even when we could not come, we have remembered it as though we were here and still received it's gifts. I want you to remember this place, and to come here as often as you can, but if you cannot, you must hold it in your minds and your hearts always. It is the source of your strength."
            She paused now, seeming tired, but all eyes were upon her. She continued. "I go now to be with the grandfathers. My journey is over, but my spirit is in you with all I have tried to teach. You must not be sad over my passing because my spirit will return to the grand daughter of my great, great granddaughter, which will be the seventh generation, the same as my spirit is of the seventh generation. Thus we will keep our inner strength and preserve the richness of our true spirit for all time to come as we have from the beginning of time. No matter what changes or troubles come to our people, if we always remember this place and respect and honor it, we will possess the richest gifts of all that no one can take from us."
            That night the spirit of the woman who could not speak left her to be with the grandfathers.’

     Oldman fell silent as if he himself was transported into the past. He seemed to have forgotten all about Youngchild for the moment.
     "The grand daughter of the great, great grand daughter he speaks of is none other than your great, great grandmother," said Oldman finally.
            "Oh wow!" exclaimed Youngchild, wide eyed. "You mean that story is from my own family?"
            "That's what I hear," answered Oldman, "and I suspect that the spirits of these powerful grandmothers are in you too. I think you bake these smelly cakes to remind you of your great, great grandmother because you miss her. I think you do it too, to remember the sacred place which is the source of your spirit, even though you don't know it yet."
            "Wow!" Youngchild said again. It seemed incredible. "Where is this place of the waterfall?" she wanted to know.
Oldman replied, "I don't rightly know where the place is. Even if it is changed or bulldozed over, the most important place for it to be is in your heart. As long as it is there, it will never be lost."
            "Wow!" Youngchild repeated a third time. "That means if I have a grand daughter, she will be that same spirit."
            "According to my count, that's exactly true," replied Oldman.
            "Would you like one of my smelly cakes?" offered Youngchild.
            Oldman smiled, " I do believe I would.  Do you know what's the best part of this story?"
            "What?" asked Youngchild? She brought a cake to her old friend.
            "The husband in the story went on to become a very famous chief. The traders especially revered him in his wise leadership, but you don't know anything about him - well, you do, but only what you read in the history books, even though he is your direct ancestor. Yet his wife, the quiet one, and her descendant, your great, great grandmother are the ones you remember and honor every time you bake your cakes. They live forever through the little things you do every day, while the great heroic deeds of your male ancestors are forgotten in a generation."
            "Well then," Youngchild wanted to know,  "Who was this great chief?"
            Oldman chucked softly. "I have no idea. I guess you'll have to look it up."

#   #   #   #


Did you like this story??? Check out these great ebooks! Stories by Karl May & Victor Epp