A Labyrinthine Affair: The World of Taboo

The Hunter - Part 1

A piercing screech jostled him awake. James was covered in darkness, and a thin layer of sweat. It took a few moments for his night eyes to parse the sparse light in their hut. He could make out the huge cooking pot at the center and Akuba's bedding, close to the window on the other side. But she was nowhere to be found.

He'd been dreaming of the Influence. Dark men and women with bright, sorrowful eyes silently pleading with him as he hammered the hull indubitably shut.

He didn't usually follow orders, yet he never turned away from his task, meeting their eyes with every pound of his hammer. He had long ago pushed feelings and reasoning away.

The shrill screams rang out in the darkness again, the brassy overtones permeating the air. Each wave of sound felt as if something or someone was dying. Its life-force slowly spilling into the earth.

What kind of creature made sounds that carried this far? By his estimations, whatever is was, was a good two to three miles away. And it was massive.

He wondered where Akuba was. Nothing good could come from roaming the land at this hour.

He slowly rose, jostling about until he found the water pot. He dipped the iron ladle into the water and then held it to his lips. The water was crisp and clean, coolly moving down his throat.

Akuba returned slightly before dawn. The air held a dusky-rose tint, hinting at an impending sunrise.

"I see you're awake," she offered.

"Bad dreams. Couldn't stay there." His voice was gravely and thick.

She sighed as she lit the kindling beneath the large black pot between them.

"I'll have some bath water ready shortly. Then breakfast."

James noticed the fresh wounds on her arms and around her neck.

"Thank you," he responded. Akuba simply smiled at him.

She usually waited for him to leave the hut for the day before she prepared herself and set about finishing chores. But now, once the water came close to boiling, she stripped down in front of him.

James could see more scrapes and bruises on her dark, almond-colored skin. She didn't wince once as she applied hot water, mixing in a bathing paste and scrubbed the dirt and sweat away.

He wanted to ask her where she'd been and why she'd been gone all night. He wanted to tell her that a woman out alone in the jungle was never safe. But as they were still learning each other, he held back, scrubbed his own body and tucked all of his questions away for another time.

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The tribe was heavily into hunting season when James and Akuba began living together. Although the land was perpetually hot, he could tell that this was something akin to spring. The air was slightly lighter and the breezes plentiful. Clouds wafted the aromatic scent of rain and wildlife seemed to flit about from savannah grass to lake to heavy bush; purposefully energetic. They hunted intermittently throughout the year, of course, but now was the time for large kills.

At this point, he and Akuba lived together in a perfunctory way. In the mornings she ground up a creamy wheat porridge for him, mixing in fresh berries and guava. She cleaned his loin cloths and robes regularly and prepared a daily bath for him, using boiled river water, scented with fresh flowers and essences. She made sure his beddings were clean and each evening, she prepared him a hearty meal from fresh vegetables, rice and whatever meat was available from the latest excursion.

She even prepared body paint for him when he went out with the larger hunting parties; slathering a rich ochre paste all over his face and chest, arms and abdomen. A paste which he'd slowly and carefully lather off himself later that night. He would scrub his skin gently, using a special cloth to wipe himself dry.