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Authors: K. B. Laugheed
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were sitting on a log near a fire in a clearing, and when I came into view, he leapt to his feet to greet me, but as soon as he jumped up, he staggered backwards and nigh fell o’er the log upon which he had been sitting. He stood there, leaning awkwardly against the log, staring at me with an open mouth. E’en Hector, who had arisen with Syawa, stared at me openly for the very first time in our acquaintance, with a warmth in his eyes I had ne’er seen before.
I stopt walking, frightened by my own apparent power. I looked ’round the eerily silent village and saw the entire population staring at me. Syawa came forward at last, slowly, as if walking in his sleep, as if his feet were not quite touching the ground. In a squeaky, broken voice, he said something in his language, then, realizing I could not understand, he gestured that I was so beautiful, with the blue in my eyes like the blue of the morning sky and the fire of the sun reflecting off my hair—he said I was e’en more beautiful than when I appeared in his Vision.
I blusht and looked down, o’erwhelmed. Syawa reached out to take my hands in his, then leant his forehead against mine as I had seen him do with Hector. He mumbled a few words, which were the same ones he just gestured: “You are so beautiful.” I began to cry.
No one had e’er said such a thing to me before.
• • •
We left that village almost immediately. I was sorry to leave my new friend, but my traveling companions were impatient to move on. Looking back on that day, I wish I had given Tomi more in exchange for all she gave me, but at the time I was too preoccupied with my own predicament. After all, now that I had learnt who Syawa truly was, I knew he must, sooner or later, figure out I was not at all what he believed me to be. I reckoned it just a matter of time before everything fell apart.
Syawa saw instantly that something had changed between us. As soon as we began hiking, he started in with his antics, trying to amuse me. I was amused, of course, but I was also terribly intimidated by his attention and quite a bit more nervous than I had been before. He asked what was wrong, and I told him ’twas nothing. I said I was just tired.
He said no more and became uncharacteristically quiet for the rest of the day. As we set up our camp that evening, Hector looked from one to the other of us, puzzled by the strained silence. Eventually he said something to Syawa, who responded at length. Hector glanced at me, nodded, and walked off into the woods.
“Your words are not true,” Syawa gestured without speaking, which was unusual.
Sitting beside our campfire, I lowered my eyes and breathed rapidly. I said nothing.
He gestured again, and I looked up. “You say you are tired. You are not tired. You say nothing is wrong. Something is wrong.”
I started to gesture, then stopt as tears welled in my eyes. Keenly aware of his intense gaze, I worked to control myself. “I—not good for you,” I gestured. I frowned, confined by the clumsy hand-language. How could I convey the concept of “not good enough ”? I did the best I could with my limited vocabulary. “You are good, more good, more, more, more good than me. I not good for you.” I let my hands fall in defeat. All I could do was hope my meaning was clear.
It was. When at last I looked up, Syawa’s face had transformed from a worried frown to an amused reproach. “You are good,” he gestured, as if I’d said something silly. “You are good for me. You are as I see you in my Vision. You are smart. You are strong. You are brave.”
I shook my head and sighed, looking away. “You not know me,” I gestured.
He knelt beside me. “You do not know many, many things,” he said, speaking softly in his language to accompany his gestures. “You do not know me. You do not know you. I know what you do not know. Trust me. You will learn.” He moved so that his face was in the line of vision of my averted eyes. He
I stopt walking, frightened by my own apparent power. I looked ’round the eerily silent village and saw the entire population staring at me. Syawa came forward at last, slowly, as if walking in his sleep, as if his feet were not quite touching the ground. In a squeaky, broken voice, he said something in his language, then, realizing I could not understand, he gestured that I was so beautiful, with the blue in my eyes like the blue of the morning sky and the fire of the sun reflecting off my hair—he said I was e’en more beautiful than when I appeared in his Vision.
I blusht and looked down, o’erwhelmed. Syawa reached out to take my hands in his, then leant his forehead against mine as I had seen him do with Hector. He mumbled a few words, which were the same ones he just gestured: “You are so beautiful.” I began to cry.
No one had e’er said such a thing to me before.
• • •
We left that village almost immediately. I was sorry to leave my new friend, but my traveling companions were impatient to move on. Looking back on that day, I wish I had given Tomi more in exchange for all she gave me, but at the time I was too preoccupied with my own predicament. After all, now that I had learnt who Syawa truly was, I knew he must, sooner or later, figure out I was not at all what he believed me to be. I reckoned it just a matter of time before everything fell apart.
Syawa saw instantly that something had changed between us. As soon as we began hiking, he started in with his antics, trying to amuse me. I was amused, of course, but I was also terribly intimidated by his attention and quite a bit more nervous than I had been before. He asked what was wrong, and I told him ’twas nothing. I said I was just tired.
He said no more and became uncharacteristically quiet for the rest of the day. As we set up our camp that evening, Hector looked from one to the other of us, puzzled by the strained silence. Eventually he said something to Syawa, who responded at length. Hector glanced at me, nodded, and walked off into the woods.
“Your words are not true,” Syawa gestured without speaking, which was unusual.
Sitting beside our campfire, I lowered my eyes and breathed rapidly. I said nothing.
He gestured again, and I looked up. “You say you are tired. You are not tired. You say nothing is wrong. Something is wrong.”
I started to gesture, then stopt as tears welled in my eyes. Keenly aware of his intense gaze, I worked to control myself. “I—not good for you,” I gestured. I frowned, confined by the clumsy hand-language. How could I convey the concept of “not good enough ”? I did the best I could with my limited vocabulary. “You are good, more good, more, more, more good than me. I not good for you.” I let my hands fall in defeat. All I could do was hope my meaning was clear.
It was. When at last I looked up, Syawa’s face had transformed from a worried frown to an amused reproach. “You are good,” he gestured, as if I’d said something silly. “You are good for me. You are as I see you in my Vision. You are smart. You are strong. You are brave.”
I shook my head and sighed, looking away. “You not know me,” I gestured.
He knelt beside me. “You do not know many, many things,” he said, speaking softly in his language to accompany his gestures. “You do not know me. You do not know you. I know what you do not know. Trust me. You will learn.” He moved so that his face was in the line of vision of my averted eyes. He
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