VIXEN - The Legend of the Five Totems

Chapter 14 - The Celebration of Tantu

Roasting goat slathered in spices. Vegetable stews of butternut squash or peanut butter. Cornmeal sadza. Rock shandies made from lemonade, lemon slices, water and bitters. Mashed pea and potato irio. Pilau: rice spiced with cardamom, cumin, cinnamon, and cloves. Beef that has been boiling all day so that it practically dissolves off the bones. Goat offal with intestine spiced and wrapped around the stomach.

These are the scents that Mali Turner wakes up to. She has been up and about several times today, but for short periods to relieve herself or to drink some water. Each time, Lashawn has been there to look after her. But now, Turner's caretaker is nowhere in sight. No doubt, she is out by the food. From the glassless open window come laughter and the quiet sounds of friendly conversation. Most voices are in the strange local language, but she can also hear the occasional word or two in English.

Immediately outside the window is the open social space outside the church. Under cover of some well-spaced umbrella trees, everyone is dressed up in extremely bright colors, reds, blues, and yellows, and greens mixed with purple, but the two colors that jump out at her most are the golds and browns. Seeing these villagers reminds Turner of how Mari dressed that first night at her apartment. Getting into what few bright clothes she has – a golden yellow tee-shirt, and a loose skirt of silver, one only slightly stained from her prolonged life in the alleyways – Turner slips on her sandals and joins them.

Stepping outside the rectory where she and Lashawn have been staying, she finds Lashawn and Reverend Jiwe in a discussion, sipping some kind of drink. Before she can reach the pair, one of the middle-aged women of the village guides (with barely a shove) a young woman in Turner's direction. The girl's hair is wrapped up in a bright blue head scarf, and as she cautiously approaches, hands Turner a drink from a horn mug. The girl does not smile, but she gestures at Turner to take a sip. Not sure why the girl is so hesitant, she tries the beverage. Diluted lemon explodes in her mouth without the pucker of the sourness, thanks to the contrasting bitter herbs, and even without ice, it is deliciously cool. Once the sip is done, the girl hastens away, back to the party. Back in the USA, the drinks would be a mix of cocktails, alcohols and mixers of carbonated beverages, but here, everyone seems to be drinking the same thing, which is ladled out from a large earthenware basin that a large, cheery-faced villager is standing behind.

"Look who finally decided to join the party," Lashawn says to her as she finally joins the pair.

"Morning. Night? What time is it, anyway?" Turner asks, her attention suddenly drawn by a particularly handsome villager with large lips and far larger upper arms. "And why is everyone staring at me?"

"You lost yourself," Lashawn says, pulling no punches. "Attacked a bunch of people. Killed some goats. That kind of thing."

Turner looks around. Yes, the hostility is plain, but like the sourness of her drink, it is diluted, almost as if they recognize she were back to normal. Turner considers an alternative: they just want to be able to enjoy themselves without the madness that Lashawn has mentioned. "Oh. I'm sorry. I didn't... I mean... I-"

"Do not worry yourself," Jiwe says in his calm, deep voice. "Your spirits have been defeated, and now is the time to relax and enjoy. Our people do not hold a grudge, even if some of the younger children do fear. Tonight is about friends, family, and food. Do not let your past prevent your enjoyment, for, I can assure you, ours will not ours."

"Thank you, reverend," Turner says despite the guilt borne from the cold looks of the villagers around her.

"To answer the more important question you asked," Reverend Jiwe says, glancing over at the setting sun in the west. The still light is painted in pinks, oranges, and purples, and with a thin wall of clouds out there, the drifts from the rains earlier that day, the colors sparkle with all the more complexity and beautifully. "It is about half past seven. We will be starting the bonfire soon. It is a focus for our revels and dances, and gives us the best lighting for the tales that will be told."