Rite of Passage
Ndoko stopped for a second to smell the air. His breath condensed before him. Hunting was hard in winter, but he could almost feel the end of the season already in the air. He laughed. Spring was still at least one moon away. He checked that his preys were still hanging from his belt and nodded with satisfaction. Those rabbits should feed his family for at least a week.
Ndoko tightened his fur coat around his neck, and set out. He was confident he could get home the next morning.
Then he realized where he was. And this time of the year… He smiled. Yes. He’d catch it.
His mind went back in time.
He had been so young. Ndoko pictured himself as the boy he had once been, almost as tall as he was now, yet barely half as wide. Still the elders had marked him.
He hadn’t been afraid: Ndoko knew he was ready for his test. He had been learning from Michael ever since he was a kid, and he knew all the old man’s favourite spots. No matter where Michael chose to leave him, Ndoko knew he’d be back in no time.
So Ndoko had been surprised when he had seen Madeleine waiting for him. The young woman had simply tied the traditional rope to her wrist and his, and then she had blindfolded him. After that was done, she had just told him in a stern voice to follow her.
Ndoko had felt his certainty falter. He had expected Michael to be his guide. He had memorized the path to all the places they had been in. Now his plans had been ruined. To his credit, young Ndoko had paid attention, and had even recognized, even blindfolded, that Madeleine had first taken the road that led to the well, then off to the meadows to their right.
But somehow, the meadow had seemed to last forever. They had been walking for so long that Ndoko had lost track of time. The test could last as long as the guide felt necessary; Madeleine was, simply put, the toughest guide.
When they had rested, it was dark. Ndoko couldn’t take the blindfold off, but he had known. If the low temperature hadn’t been enough, the sounds of the forest had changed as well. Madeleine had made a fire, since he wasn’t allowed to. He had heard her eat as was her right. He couldn’t eat either.
Ndoko had fallen asleep.
In the morning, he had found himself alone. Thus the test had started. He had taken his blindfold off, and realized he didn’t recognize where he was. That hadn’t surprised him. What had surprised his was that he had felt calm and alert.
Custom dictated that Madeleine watched over him for the duration of his test, but he hadn’t been able to say whether she was watching him or not. Ndoko had looked at the Sun, smelled the air. He had asked the wind, and received his answer.
It was early the next morning when Ndoko had finally reached a spot he was sure he knew. A butte to his right marked the way home. A little longer and he would be able to see its waterfall.
And then, right then, he had seen it.
The firefall. The water looked like fire. An incandescent stream dropped down, as if a volcano was slowly letting its lava flow down the butte.
Ndoko stood, watching the same spectacle, only years later. The years that had given him wisdom. Wisdom to know that Michael and Madeleine had seen the potential in him, and had tested him. Ndoko would one day become a guide if he could pass his test, but back then, he couldn’t have known it. But still, Madeleine had decided to give him a gift.
Ndoko almost wept watching the firefall. He knew now it was just a trick of the light, the sunbeams reflecting on the waterfall just so, making the water look like it was on fire.
So many memories.
There was a roar at his back. He turned, and saw the sun glint off the body of a skyflyer that rose upon a plume of fire and smoke. Ndoko waved, as was customary. Perhaps one day his tribe would be able to emigrate as well.
Ndoko smiled again. The firefall meant home was close.
~~~~
This is my accompanying entry for the Weekly Writing Exercise: September 11-17, 2017 at the Writer’s Discussion Group on Google+. I am responsible for creating the prompts for the Exercise, so I don’t take part, but I still like to write a story each week.
Once again it’s taken me a long time to come up with an idea I liked enough to develop into a short story. But it’s finally here.
