“Did you bring rum?” The Rummer’s voice brought my attention full to the fire. The prairie scrub around us was dry and brittle. The slightest movement raised puffs of dust.
I never tried ‘bringing’ a bottle. I called to mind one of my favorites, a strong dark rum with a distinctive bottle. I closed my hand in mid-air, as if closing on the bottle’s neck. The sudden resistance of cold glass pleasantly surprised me.
“If you don’t mind risking a first timer’s failure…” I lifted the full bottle. “I have rum!” He laughed with deep mirth.
“Sit beside me, girl. I have something to show you.” We sat facing the fire in the darkness. I remarked I neglected to call up glasses. He laughed that off and presented two shallow bowls. I knew them to be skull crowns. Not a problem.
The sun rose as we sipped in silence. The area is not quite prairie, not quite desert, definitely scrub, and definitely dry. The wind swirled lazily at times, but was mostly still. Other than the occasional locust, wasp, or ant, the area was empty of animal life.
Morning segued to noon. “No rabbits.”
“Hmm?”
“No rabbits, prairie dogs, or ground dwelling mammals.” He smiled and nodded at my observation.
“And why do you think that is?” We’ve been sipping on the bottle all day, and it still looks 3/4 full.
“Disease? But then where are the scavengers, and the remains. Over hunted then.”
“Or maybe, they just aren’t in this area. We haven’t moved from our sipping.” Oh. Yeah. On the border between two habitats, this area will likely be shunned by animals native to both. “You sure have a dim view of your kind, girl.”
“History tends to sour over time. We keep making the same damn mistakes.” I took an extra large gulp to keep me from talking out of turn. And found the alcohol. My sudden coughing was echoed by his deep open laughter.
“Speaking of mistakes, girl. Let’s see if you can spy his failure.” I look up to see a youth running towards us. Dogging him was a large raptor. He would stop and try to beat off the bird. A few severe gashes added to his already wounded arms and he turned to flee again.
The youth yelled in a language I did not understand. The body postures told me the gist of it. He held two eggs in one arm. The eagle was doing its best to punish him for the theft. The teenager wore breeches and sandals. And nothing else. His arms and torso are bloody.
“He raided an eagle’s nest, without anything to shield him from her talons and beak. He’s going to drop from blood loss. His back is tattered.
The Rummer nodded. Silently we watched the youth try vainly to beat off the eagle. A sudden flurry of feathers, a shout from the boy that suddenly ceased, and the boy dropped to the ground. One egg survived the fall. The other egg cracked and spilled itself beside him. From the boy’s neck, a brightening redness spread and caressed the dry grasses.
I announced his obvious death flatly. “Well, shit.”
The Rummer shrugged. I looked towards him at the movement. The world suddenly shifted in hue around me. I looked back at the boy to find he was stomping and screaming at the darkening sky. He was yelling at his body, at the eagle that was tearing at the dead face, at everything he saw.
I still could not understand the language, but now I knew the meaning. “When you’re ready, I’m right here.” The Rummer addressed him directly. The boy stopped, slowly turned to face us, then sank to his knees in surrender.
“I’m dead.”
“Yes.”
“I have failed then.”
“Yes.”
“What will come of me? I have died before becoming a man.”
“You can return to the Rivers.”
The youth caught the unspoken “or” the same time I did. We both looked at the Rummer in waiting curiosity. I was the first to put two and two together. “I have my hands full already!” The Rummer only chuckled. “I already have a teenager to deal with and an impertinent bastard off my hip!”
The youth watched us with hope and fear. The Rummer poured himself more rum. “The only reason I’m not forcing the issue, is you are not prepared.” I knew what he referred to. “I think a… partnership between the two of you will be beneficial. Anyways, you have a few days to consider. I’ll keep him occupied until then.”
“And if I refuse?”
“He ‘moves on’. He won’t have much of a choice in the matter. There’s not much holding him here.”
“And if I accept?”
“You’ll have more company.”
I poured myself more rum, alcohol be damned. “My dear Rummer, I’m not prepared for this. I don’t know what I’m doing. I don’t know what the right decisions are. And I’m afraid to fuck up his… ending. I have my hands full as it is, and I’m on the edge of losing control. I know you’re pushing me out of my comfort zone, forcing me to confront realities about myself that I’ve been taught to fear. But this… this is too much!” I emptied the bowl and the Rummer quietly took the empty bowl from me.
He smiled and laughed. “Go home, girl. You have a few days to think on it.” I nodded. I stood up and nodded a polite farewell to the wide-eyed youth. Spoke a polite farewell to the Rummer. Then turned to walk into the deepening night.
“Ravenwoman didn’t want to take me?” The boy’s surprised whisper was almost swallowed up by the Rummer’s laughter. I stopped and looked at myself. Normal street clothes. Jeans. Shirt. Short afro. I could have just come back from the store. I turned back and stared in the boy’s eyes until I saw the worlds as he did.
Leather shift, covered in black feathers. Leather gloves with bones tied to the exterior. A black feather headdress with a white ashen mask. Ravenwoman.
Well, fuck!
“We’ll see.”
I turned and stepped into the embracing darkness, remembering too late I left the rum behind. Oh well, I don’t think it will go to waste.