Sand and Blood

Chapter 5: Decisions

The weight of opinions is measured in years, not from the freedom of a womb but those earned as a true member of the clan.

—Basamiku Goryápe, The Snake Killer's Betrayal (Scene 19)

Rutejìmo didn't plan on obeying his brother. During dinner, he listened to Desòchu's tale about his trip to Wamifuko City with only half an ear. He was occupied with how to sneak out of the family cave, find Tsubàyo without Karawàbi protecting him, and then beat the boy until he cried.

"Jìmo!"

Rutejìmo jumped at his grandmother's sharp voice. Blinking, he stared across the low table and dredged his mind back into the present. "Y-yes?"

"Were you paying attention to me?"

Desòchu snorted at the obvious answer, and Tejíko glared at him. Desòchu made a show of bowing respectfully, but as soon as she looked away, he pulled a face.

Rutejìmo gulped and shook his head. "No, Great Shimusogo Tejíko."

She leaned over and brandished a knife at him. "Are you paying attention now?"

"Yes, Great Shimusogo Tejíko."

"Good. There is a clan meeting tonight, and I don't want to see or hear a single step from you outside of the cave. Do you understand?" She waved the knife under his nose.

Rutejìmo remained respectful and bowed his head. "Yes, Great Shimusogo Tejíko."

"Good." She turned to his grandfather. "Get up, old man! We have to go to the shrine!"

"Eh?"

She smoothly stood up and smacked her husband playfully on the head. "Hurry up."

"Eh," his grandfather muttered as he shoved himself out of his seat. He reached out for balance.

The scowl faded from her face and she slipped her arm around his chest. She kissed her husband on the ear as she took his weight. Together, they walked to their sleeping quarters to dress in their formal outfits.

Rutejìmo turned to talk to his brother, but Desòchu was already gone. A faint eddy of wind was all that marked his departure. Rutejìmo sighed and stood to clean the table. If he didn't, his grandmother would no doubt punish him again. She said it was being respectful, but it felt as if he were her slave.

By the time he finished scrubbing the last of the plates, his grandparents were gone. Rutejìmo packed the plates and knives into the wooden chest in the corner of the cooking area and closed it.

The cave was quiet except for the crack and pop of the fire. He headed straight for the entrance. He had to hunt down Tsubàyo and finish their fight.

Outside, the valley was dark with night. Only a few caves were lit from the inside. Mapábyo's was on the opposite side of the valley, but both Tsubàyo and Karawàbi lived closer to the entrance of the valley. Rutejìmo focused on Tsubàyo's home, but no light escaped the opening. Farther along, he spotted a flicker of movement in the caves by the entrance, and a fierce anticipation rose.

"You wouldn't"—Rutejìmo jumped at Gemènyo whispering into his ear—"be thinking about getting in trouble, would you?"

Blushing hotly, Rutejìmo spun around as Gemènyo stepped out of the shadows. He was wearing only dark trousers and shoes. A cloud of smoke clung to his shoulders. "N-no."

Gemènyo chuckled. "Don't lie, boy."

Rutejìmo nodded sheepishly.

"Don't."