The Chief and His Bird

Fwip! An arrow pierced through the northern winds, ricocheting off of a tree rather than striking the animal. The coveted Black-Tailed Deer scurried back into the safety of the thicket.

Kai swore under his breath. He didn't believe in second chances. Survival was a tangible thing: either you caught food for the tribe or didn't, built shelters or you froze to death; lit fires or were blind against the unforgiving darkness.

He raced back to the sandy beaches of Honolulu, Hawaii. It had been his hometown for two weeks now, and Kai Griffith was still adjusting to the way the ocean waves licked at his toes as he trekked to his hut, the one Marlow had built for him.

Adrian Marlow was a strange fellow at the age of fourty-four. He was the eldest of their island tribe, The Opotikis, and was always equipped with a bundle of straw in his right hand, and in his left; a hunk of clay used to create huts. The clay was a tan color, and resembled the adobe used by Mayans centuries ago. Adrian was now walking across the wooden platform used for TOC (The Opotiki Council) meetings to slip his feet into the warm summer sand below.

"Hey Griffy," Marlow crooned as Kai appeared from within the tangle of forestry. He stooped down to place a hand on Kai's crown of brown spiky hair, but Kai shrugged him off.

"What's the matter, son?" Marlow added; a hint of worry in his tone.

"You're not my father," Kai stated harshly, walking further away and then slamming the bamboo door to his hut behind him. "I'm gonna catch that deer," he hissed, peering out of a window near the back of the hut, which was carved out of the adobe-clay. There was a young girl who appeared to be almost ten with choppy black hair, golden skin, and brown oval eyes like almonds headed toward him. She was clearly meant to be here; the girl looked like a piece of Hawaii itself, the way a few strands of her hair were loosely braided and intertwined with Yellow Ginger flowers. She's so beautiful, Kai thought.

"Seen any berries lately?" the girl announced, shaking Kai out of his stupor. Her face was inches away from his, and the aroma of honey wafted off of the flowers as she rested her elbows on the windowsill.

"No," Kai yawned. I would have gotten enough rest if that stupid deer hadn't avoided my arrows.

"Are you new here?" The girl stuck out the palm of her hand, which was stained with multicolored berry juices: mostly shades of purple and blue. "My name's Aiko, ten years old, and I've lived on this island for five years," Aiko said as Kai shook her hand briskly.

"So you weren't born here?"

"No, my parents are from Japan. Well, they were."

"You talk a lot," Kai noticed, "compared to the other girls."

She continued her life story spiel. "My parents, Emi and Ryou Sakae, died when I was six, which was one year after we moved here. So I kinda have to fend for myself, if you know what I mean."

"Me too," Kai responded, "'cept I don't know where my parents are. They could be floating like angels up in heaven or wandering 'cross the globe."

"Don't they-shouldn't they be searching for you?" The moonlight cast shadows over Aiko's honey-toned skin.

Kai was at a loss for words. "I'm afraid that . . . they aren't. That they've forgotten about me," he said with a forced smile that wrinkled the corners of his lips as he said a quick good night to Aiko and marched outside to hunt again. And this time, Kai promised himself, I will catch something.

***

Kai shuffled forward into the procession of silence; darkness leading him into its abyss. The creepers clung to him like the sweat dripping down his forehead amongst the steamy rainforest. Branches scratched his back as he crept across stones and pebbles that lined the riverbed. There was a rough outline of a path he followed that stretched toward the Black-Tailed Deer's meadow for grazing. They were known to forage for berries around this time, past sundown. The rest of the tribe would be sleeping; Kai was sure of it. Therefore, no one was awake to punish him for hunting past bedtime, as the Opotiki tribe rule No. 44 stated: There shall be no leaving of huts after sundown, unless approved by a tribal chief or assistant.