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May 2nd, 1965

James
Broken Trust

The river's icy grip had me thrashing, panic seizing my chest. Each gulp of air was a fight, and the current pulled at me, relentless and unforgiving. I could barely keep my head above the water, then I heard someone calling her name, Sheba. My lungs begged for air, robbed of the last liter of oxygen he held on to thrive and keep me from drowning. I was going in, sinking in deeper. My heart stopped.

"What you done, Sheba?" Aike said, scolding her, as he dived into the river. His shadow loomed above me. His hands, strong and steady, yanked me from the river's grasp and dragged me to the shore.

Coughing and shivering, I lay on the ground, the world a blur of sounds and colors. Aike's voice cut through the fog, harsh but low. "Your father has requested the outsider. He is to be celebrated. Whatever you were about to do, drop it." Aike stood over me, water dripping from his clothes, eyes locked on Sheba, who stood frozen with her bow and arrow. Sheba's face was a mask of guilt and shock, her eyes wide, meeting my glare. Actually, my eyes were blank, as I was processing what had happened. I thought we were talking and sharing something vulnerable and genuine, but not as malicious and hateful. I watched her, still gasping for breath, and then Aike hauled me to my feet. His grip was firm, but there was a gentleness in the way he supported my weight, guiding me away from the water. Sheba's gaze followed us, filled with an emotion I couldn't quite decipher. And I didn't care whatever she felt. She tried to kill me.

Aike took me back to the village, but stopped at a tent, I assumed was his, for he dashed in dragging me along with him. He left Sheba outside, so I wondered why. Although I didn't utter my curiosity, my eyes did the talking. "Rule #1, you don't bring an unmarried woman to your tent, ever."

"Why?" I asked, my voice impatient. I didn't know either why I was so eager to know.

"What do you mean why?" Aike snorted, shaking his head on disappointment. "It'd defile her name. The village will assume we bedded and thus make her a concubine."

"You mean a wife?" I questioned, wishing him to be more clear.

"No," Aike replied, handing me a quilt to dry myself. "A wife is pure, untouched, full of virtue. But a concubine is designed to fulfill the man's pleasure and make him forget his woes in times it's needed. That's different." He gave me a pair of clothing to wear and left me to dress on. A face jug caught my attention, then beside it, there was a bowl of mints. I looked at the tent's entrance, and then went and shoved some into my mouth to appease my devil breath. Despite my struggles to put on the outfit on, I couldn't beat the discomfort. My tiny legs were exposed and the top was cropped mid waist. I sighed, realizing that I didn't have a choice. I took a few steps, trying to see if I could get a bit accustomed, but my attempt failed. My skinny figure and heavy tan lines were too noticeable and distracting. I gathered my breath and came out of the tent, then I followed Aike directing me.

The village buzzed with activity, the air filled with anticipation and excitement. But I couldn't shake the memory of Sheba's drawn bow, her intent clear. I looked at her, and I caught her looking too, as discreet as she could afford to. Yet I was angry. I felt empathy for her. Then I got thrown in the belly's devil, kissing the seats of death.

The villagers' smiles and songs seemed hollow, a façade over the fear that now gripped my heart. I wandered aimlessly, trying to clear my mind, and found myself near the edge of the village where Aku sat alone. His eyes met mine, curious and cautious. "May I go talk to Aku for a minute?" I asked, and hesitantly, Aike nodded.

I approached Aku, my steps heavy with the burden of what I had to say. I placed one hand on his shoulder, and I saw a few of the villagers observing us, as if it was somewhat forbidden to talk to him. "Your sister tried to kill me," I blurted out, the words sharp and raw. "Yes, I know the truth. I now know who you are."