Page 75 of Beautifully Wild

He nods to Kaikare and answers me at the same time, “Fine. Have you finished your chores?”

“I don’t have a list, but I’ve helped some.”

There’s a hint of a smile when he speaks to Kaikare.

“What did you say to her?”

“I asked her if you were productive. She said you’re learning.”

“I am,” I say, indignant. “Without any orientation.”

He chuckles low. “Let’s take a walk.”

We reach the far end of the village, and he continues along a well-trodden path of tree roots. “I thought you might want to bathe.”

“I do because I worked up a sweat in the fields. And I have to ask why the men don’t help?”

“They prepare the soil and grow the new crops from cuttings and seeds. Their job is to hunt, fish, weave the baskets, nets, and hammocks, make the darts, and harvest the poison for the arrows and darts. The women tend to the fields and cook the meals.”

“And tend to the children. Which reminds me, I spotted some of the women with babies strung to their backs as they worked. Surely, the fathers who are basket weaving could watch over the young ones to save the mother’s back?”

“The men don’t help much at a young age. They tend to show their sons how to hunt and fish, and the girls follow their mother’s ways until they marry. By early teens, they are promised to someone, and when it’s time, the guy shifts his hammock into the girl’s family hut. He then learns from and works alongside his new father-in-law.”

I gawk at him. “Simply like that. No wedding.”

“The only ceremony is for new warriors heading out on their first hunt, like an initiation or a celebration as told by their folklore or ceremonies as you witnessed last night.”

“Are you going to tell me about last night?”

“I know you’re concerned for me, but your being there could’ve ruined everything.”

“Or I could have helped. You were in a bad way. Vomiting. Crying out. Moaning. Seriously, I couldn’t leave you like that.”

“I knew what was happening. It was part of the ayahuasca process. Next time, please do what is asked of you. The shaman might not be so lenient if it happens again.” He stops short. “Are you going to bathe?”

I hadn’t even realized we’d reached the stream. I wade in while Samuel fetches the foaming leaves to wash myself.

“Am I going to be punished?” I ask, taking the leaves from his outstretched arm. He sits on the bank and watches, his masked expression showing no emotion.

“I only heard him say you didn’t belong.”

“At the ceremony?”

“No. In the tribe.” He kneels in front of me. “My heart sank hearing his words. It broke me because more than anything, I want you here.”

“Tell me what to expect tonight. I don’t want to stuff-up again.” I clamber over rocks wishing there was an Egyptian cotton towel to greet me. Useless really because, in minutes, the sweat will bask my skin and gleam like a wax coat.

Samuel offers his hand to hoist me up. He holds my gaze, and I see a glimpse of the longing inside of him.

“If you follow Kaikare’s lead and do what I ask, you’ll be fine.”

“What happens tonight?”

“We eat. We drink. More stories. New warriors are initiated.”

Something tells me it won’t be that simple.

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