The New World

Chapter Ten

My arms were bound to the structure once again. I looked at my feet, waiting for my punishment. The tall native named Paresh, circled me with his knife in his hand. I held back tears and tried not to throw up. I felt sick to my stomach.

He stood in front of me and began to ponder, "What to do, what to do."

I waited for my fate. "What should we do?!" he yelled to the crowd.

They roared with ideas all at once, "Cut her fingers off!" "Peel her skin!" "Scalp!" "Burn!" "Me!!" "I'll show you!" "Cut her arms off!" "Let me!" and much more in their native tongue.

I began to cry. I was not afraid of death. But pain.

"I know!" cried Paresh with an idea, "I'll point to someone in the crowd everyday and let them do what they please! But we cannot dismember her! We don't want her to die, do we?!"

The crowd roared with agreement. Paresh shot me a grin and then closed his eyes. He spun around three times and pointed to a random native. He opened his eyes and called one up. A grown native man ran up to the platform, grinning like an idiot.

"Let's start small," he smiled to Paresh.

The native whispered in Paresh's ear. Paresh seemed shocked but nodded. Paresh handed him the knife. The native walked behind me. I whimpered as I choked on tears. The native stroked my hair. He gathered it together. I gasped as his pulled and tugged on it. He was cutting my hair!

He sawed through my thick brown hair. My head was back as I tried to minimize the pain. He stopped. He walked to the audience and held up my hair that was a foot long. The crowd laughed and cheered. Embarrassed, I began to cry again. My hair didn't even touch my shoulders.

I looked like a man. My hair seemed like one of the ways to show how I was a lady. Now it was gone. I was pathetic. Paresh untied my wrists and slammed me, "Shut up, pale-face!"

I immediately did what I was told and silenced my sobs. I was greatful that my punishment wasn't worse. That was another reason my I cried. I was happy.

"Take her back!" called Paresh. The young native took me back to the long house and into my room.

I sat on the fur bed. I ran my fingers through my hair but fell short. My hair was an inch from touching my shoulders. Even if Harold pay for me back, no one will except me into society until my hair grew back. It will be a long while until that day would come.

The young native came back and handed me a board. I gave him a questioning look but took it. It was a mirror decorated with wicker and beads. In it was an unfamiliar girl: short greasy hair, sickly-pale skin, purple bags hanging from her blue hollow eyes.

"What is your name?" I asked the native as my finger tips traced the scratch on my cheek.

"How dare you!" he growled.

I jumped at his voice and stared in shock. He held a knife that was pointed at me. He knew I was confused, "Do not speak to me, savage," he barked, "If there shall be any questions to be asked, it will be me asking. Not you."

"I apologize," I croaked.

He slowly put his knife into a pouch that hung at his waist. I handed him the mirror, not daring to say a word. Curiosity killed the cat, I said to myself.

"Sleep," he said, "You need it. No one will hurt you in here... Only out there."

I gulped and he walked out. Why was he nice but hateful when I spoke? I considered to sleep. The mirror showed proof that I really did need it.  But my stomach kept me up. Last night's meal isn't enough to last me through breakfast and lunch. But there was nothing I could do about it, was there?

~~~~~~

My finger went through the tip of the flame. I sat on the floor next to the candle, playing with the fire. I had nothing else to do. I had slept all day and now my sleep clock was messed up. I figured it was about two hours or so when the families in the Longhouse went to sleep. The fire in the middle was still lit, the light seeping from the cloth door.

Sonakshi hadn't come tonight. My stomach shrank by the hour. It had stopped growling and just ached. Just then, a hand genteelly touched my shoulder. I jumped, covering my mouth. There knelt Sonakshi and her leather bag.

"I am sorry," she whispered.

I my breathing became even again and my heart slowed. I gave a smile, assuring her that it was OK.

"Did you enjoy your meal last night?" she said softly. Sonakshi began to untie her bag. Roasted chicken filled my nose.

I nodded.

"I brought you chicken tonight," she handed me a leg and wing, "I also have boiled corn. I apologise that I have no bread."

I dove into my chicken. It was wonderful. The spices were perfect and the meat wasn't underdone or dry. The corn was sweet and juicy. I took a drink of water the young native gave me. He gave me fresh water this afternoon while I was on the platform. I was able to clean my wounds and rehydrate.

Sonakshi studied me while I gobbled down my meal. "Do you talk?" she finally asked.

I looked up at her from my chicken leg, surprised. I nodded.

"Well? Will you?"

I swallowed, "I apologise. I did not want to get in trouble for speaking."

She pulled her delicate eyebrows together, "Indeed? I would not mind. You may speak to me, if you wish."

I was silent for a moment. "I thank you for the food. I did not think I would be fed."

She shook her head, "They would not have fed you, I am guessing. It was Ista's idea to give you food."

"Who is Ista?"

"It means 'mother'," she said.

I nodded, "Did you not want to help me?"

"I did. But it was her idea to give you food."

I nodded again, "Thank you."

"Lo," she smiled with dimpled cheeks, "Ó:nen."

She grabbed my scraps, stuffing them in her bag and left.

Translations

Lo -- you're welcome

Ó:nen -- bye now