Ayida-Weddo and the Tales of Heroes

The irony was that by telling them where he was going, it was easier to convince them that he was just a member of LAMCO coming to check the area. On the other hand, they probably thought he was nuts to check the region, especially with a war going on.

He took a look at his surroundings behind him in his rearview mirror as he drove. Liberia and its neighboring nation Sierra Leone were being torn apart by the ravaging wars. It was only until last year that Sierra Leone ended its war and joined in the fight to end the war in Liberia. The dreaded concept of blood diamonds originated in areas such as Sierra Leone, and Liberia was becoming a haven for it as well. Driving by individuals that walked by the roads was a common occurrence for him. Monrovia was the most populated city in Liberia. Named after the fifth President of the United States, it had more people in one city than all the other towns of Liberia combined. If you controlled Monrovia, you controlled Liberia. It was plain and simple as that. Liberia was also one of the poorest nations in Africa and the world when it came to wealth. The civil war did not help any in the situation.

The nation was so poor they were barely able to afford to pave their own roads. They did manage to get a railway established from Yekepa to the city of Buchanan southeast of Monrovia. However, that has been shut down due to the war. He shook his head. He could have used those trains to get to Yekepa instead of this if that would have been the case.

Thomas relaxed as he drove about forty miles per hour down the road. He remarked on the green forests and occasional buildings and people around him. Kola trees, Bombex trees, Oil Palms, Liberia's forests were beautiful even under the heavy heat. It rained often, and the location of Liberia almost put itself deep within the forests of West Africa. The orange dirt road was a clear indication that you were now driving out in the country once you left the capital. With only so many vehicles around him, it was apparent he stood out a little bit to the onlookers.

"First part of the hurdle has been passed," he said to himself. "Many, many more to go. If I am uninterrupted, then I should make it in a few hours, but anything can happen from that point." His heart was beating hard as he kept his mind focused on his driving. "I still have to ask myself why I am doing this? I still feel like I am drawn to this place though like I am being called to here. I just wish I knew why. I am risking my life for most likely nothing, but it does not shake those feelings away. I must find out why."

As he drove, he would see dead bodies by the road. Others simply walked by the bodies, while others would occasionally strip the bodies for anything of value. Some bodies were mutilated by however killed them.

The wind would hit his dark hair as he drove. He noted that they have not even been able to take care of their dead. People were trying to take care of themselves and just survive. There was so little infrastructure and resources. If people were shot and killed, they were simply dumped into buildings to eventually be taken care of later. He hoped that people wouldn't get used to this sort of thing, or it would have been a true sign that the world was falling apart.

He drove by a body that was stripped naked and on the road. The body's chest had markings that it was cut down the center.

"The Cannibals' War....." he said to himself out loud again. "I have only heard stories of where I was briefed. Ancient traditions and the necessity of survival, and even the lack of food have combined into a wicked form of practice. Some tradition here believed that taking the entrails, to a person's heart, to their blood of another person, before a battle would make you immune to the bullets when you charged into battle. I believe Charles Taylor will take most of the blame, but I have heard all sides engaged in such practices. I need to be careful. If I make a mistake, I could literally be on someone's menu."

Thomas shook his head as he focused on his driving. Even the thought that he was in a land where such practices were engaged could shake most people to the core. However, his mission was most important. He was drawn to this place. Almost as if someone was calling him to come to this place. He put his hand to his forehead as his other hand was on the steering wheel. The constant hum of the engine as the jeep moved allowed him to wander in his thoughts as he continually went back and forth trying to figure out his reasons for doing such a thing as this mission.

Suddenly a small clearing opened up in the forest as the road led by an open field with what looked like a plantation. There was no one around this large house, and it sat there like some largely abandoned castle. It was two stories tall as the grass had claimed most of the landscape. It had been left for some time. All he had to do was turn his jeep in.

Almost like a magnet, the building seemed to call him to a stop and check it out like he was some tourist. His mind was being drawn to this place. He could not explain his actions as he pulled the jeep over and got as far as he could in the lawn before he had to stop and turn off the engine. He took his pistol and holstered it as he stepped on the long-grown grass. He stepped on what appeared to be an overgrown, neglected path that led into the building itself. The plantation building was large as that of a small mansion. There was no activity, nothing.

"Why am I stopping to check this place out?" he asked himself out loud as he shook his head. "There is nothing here but this big house. I feel.......like I know this place. I can't explain it."

He stepped onto the porch. The wood creaked and groaned as his weight shifted on it. Nature was claiming this place and doing an excellent job at it. The wood was falling apart, and the windows and glass were falling off of it.

Thomas thought to himself as he remembered some of his historical readings before coming here. Liberia, when it was first founded, had little to nothing that they grew. The freed Africans that moved here became known as the 'Americo-Liberians.' They only consisted of about five percent of the area's population while the rest were the local indigenous population. The Americo-Liberians suffered greatly when they moved in. A massive portion died from disease and was afraid of the local people at the same time. The Americo-Liberians were raised with what they knew even if they were initially enslaved by white men. When they settled in the city of Monrovia, they embraced the ways of the South of the United States and began to farm the land heavily. This abandoned plantation would be an example of one of those ancient farms where grain or pepper, such as the abundant melegueta pepper, would be grown. This was both a good and a bad thing.

He stepped up to the door, and it was already open. He could already see inside of the plantation mansion as it revealed nothing but a shell of what it was initially like. There was no furniture in the home, the wood was falling apart, and it was an empty husk of what it was. His thoughts continued. The Americo-Liberians began to view themselves as more civilized and even superior to the indigenous population. They were the ones that were rich, literate, and with the ways, they were raised, the enslaved essentially became the enslavers. This form of practice of mistreatment of the local population would set a precedence for everything that was happening now. If you were in 1855 in Liberia, it would almost be like the South of the United States prior to the civil war. Even the homes and buildings all looked like you were taking a wagon down South Carolina.

Thomas felt a wave of new thoughts rush his head as he thought of South Carolina. He looked around the place some more. There was no need to be in this building, no need to be here, and even he could not explain what was happening.

"Why do I feel like I have been here?" he said out loud. "That is not possible; I was born and grew up in the United States. I was never here. This is my first time being in Liberia before, yet......it's like I lived in this home before. It can't be possible. I must be going insane, but I feel a sort of nostalgia for some reason."

Thomas went and covered his arms as if he felt a cold chill run down his back. He was feeling more fear, and he could not bear to be in the mansion anymore. He walked out of the mansion and quickly got back in his jeep. He took a look at the mansion again as he turned the key and started up the jeep again.

"Why did I stop here?..... Why do I feel fear when I come into this place? Maybe it's why no one is using this home. Maybe it's cursed. I need to continue."

He unholstered his pistol again and put it on the passenger seat again in case he needed it quickly again. He put the jeep in reverse as he got back to the main dirt road. He put the car on automatic and hit the gas pedal, leaving a small amount of dust as the vehicle sped forward. He came here for answers, and it was only leaving him with more questions.

*******

Thomas reached another checkpoint as he slowed his vehicle down. He had been traveling for almost an hour as he came up to another armed truck with five men that were checking out any passing car or individual. He came to a stop by as the men were sporting machetes and rifles. They held their hands up to check him and the jeep out.

"Just like the last time, Thomas," he said to himself.

He was hoping not to get in a firefight. He couldn't fight five and a truck armed with a machine gun with just one lone pistol. He went and lifted his hand and pointed forward past them. They were about to check him out further, but their eyes saw the brown streak of paint on his jeep. They seemed to calm down, and they waved their hands to him to indicate they could pass.

"Good," he said to himself as he put his foot to the gas pedal lightly. The jeep slowly passed the truck and the men. Hopefully, he believed that the further he left from Monrovia, the less likely he would have to keep stopping at checkpoints. This was the fifth checkpoint in one hour. They made sure that enemy forces were not getting a chance to flee or regroup even with the temporary ceasefire. He could understand their reasons, but it is nerve-racking each time.

The wind blew in his hair and hat as before as the trees, plants, occasional house, and occasional people passed by his fast-moving jeep. He was holding an adequate speed of about fifty miles per hour. The last checkpoint was nothing but a speck on his rearview mirror. Unhindered, he could reach his destination by the later afternoon day, but these detours he was making were slowing down his progress.

"Hmmm..." Thomas noticed on the right of his driving. He noticed the passing trees were a different group of trees altogether. These were a very unique and common tree in Liberia, especially on this road.

Unlike places like Sierra Leone that struck pay dirt with diamonds and other valuable metals, Liberia had nothing essentially but whatever they could grow. The nation was impoverished for a long time. It could barely afford the luxuries that others had. Debt was a constant threat as Liberia was always asking other countries for loans. The United States, seeing Liberia as an ally in Africa with European nations carving Africa up for their own, would occasionally help Liberia out. It was a sort of base in Africa during World War I, if one would call it that. US Navy ships would see it as a stopping point if need be while going around Africa. There was even a case when a German submarine threatened Liberia by blockading the coast. US naval ships would go and chase it off once Liberia declared war on Germany in 1917. Liberia would also be helped in its internal conflicts against indigenous populations as the United States would sell arms to the Americo-Liberians at a low price.

After the Great War, a significant moment occurred in 1926 when Firestone bought a big lease on Liberia. With the growing demand for cars, the need for rubber tires was ever-increasing. Liberia, like many of the West African nations, had access to rubber trees. The bark could be stripped from the trees as a white latex would bleed out, which could be harvested to make rubber. This could be done to the trees repeatedly, making a healthy renewable resource to make and export rubber. Before the civil war and now, the Firestone Company is partnered with the Liberians in the making of rubber. Fifty percent of Liberia's exports is this one single resource. In the United States alone, up to ten percent of the rubber used comes from Liberia, helping to pull the nation out of debt. During the Civil Wars, Firestone did its best to survive in Liberia like everyone else. It tried to negotiate with Charles Taylor and keep itself going, even when attacked and harassed by forces around it. Workers hold fast that their environment changes around them as they continue to work in the rubber plantations.

Thomas's jeep continued its speed as rubber tree after rubber tree passed by his car like large fence posts. Some plantations had rubber trees adequately spaced out. He knew he was traveling by a plantation by the ways the trees were spaced alone. There were occasional plantations that did not regulate how they grew their trees, and it would look like a typical forest. For this place, he knew where he was at.

Thomas chuckled. "Funny......now that I think of it, I should have lied and told the checkpoints that I work for Firestone. It would have been even less of an issue and easier to convince them. Once I get past this point, though, it does not matter. Once I reach the town of Gabarnga, the halfway point to Yekepa, I will be safe, or at least I hope. It must be there....I know there is something there."

He took one of his hands from the steering wheel and stuck it into his pocket. He pulled out a small tin coin. On it was a symbol. He took a brief look at it while his attention was on the road. It depicted the gold Solar Cross or the Sun Cross, one of the oldest known religious symbols to exist in mankind. At each of the points that led to the circle was an area where the lines were the thickest. This would naturally fade out as the complete circle was drawn around the cross. It was almost as if the sun cross might have been something else entirely. It also had a small saying on the cross that was adequately etched in the smallest font he ever saw. Written in Latin were the words "Deorum est," which stands for "The gods exist."

"They do exist....." he said as he put the coin back in his pocket. "The gods exist, mythical creatures exist, they all exist. They are here even in this war-torn nation. They are here, and I will find them......."

Chapter 4: August 13^th, 2003

Zoe awoke in her bed. It was the following day as she noticed both All and the boy were gone. The candles were still lit in the room as the morning light traveled into the only window and door frame. The sounds of the distant chimes produced a calm sensation to her when her eyes opened.

"I slept all night......." She commented quietly to herself. She went and checked herself on the bed. She was so tired, and at the same time, her body ached from running so hard from the day before. She had a chance to rest, though, and that helped her. There was more fruit on the table as she got out of bed that she could eat. She quickly grabbed another apple and began to eat it. She did not notice that the door had opened and closed behind her.

"How are you, my child?" the same calm voice came from behind her. She turned around as she quickly swallowed her piece of apple. It was the same distinct bald man dressed as a Buddhist monk that happily greeted her.

She nodded, almost scared at first but quickly calmed down when she realized it was him.

"Don't be nervous young one. I mean you no harm," All told her.

She was quiet at first as she held the apple in her hand. "Thank you......All for giving me refuge in your home."

"You are more than welcome here, Zoe," All replied.

Zoe could still see a glowing aura come from him. It was faint but it was there. It was harder to see it with the sunlight coming in but it was there nonetheless.

"You are glowing, All," she told him.

The monk kept his smile. "Truly a rare gift you have. So few have your ability. One in a hundred thousand has your ability, and most that see this aura usually say nothing when they see somebody that gives it off."

She tried to shake off her emotions as she went and had a seat on the bed again. Her half-eaten apple was still clutched to her hand.

"You are in pain, my child," All calmly noted to her. "Tell me what is happened, and maybe it will help."

She began to cry. Her mental anguish had caught up to her. "I.....I have nowhere to go. The village just north of here has been overrun, and my brother was murdered. I was taken as a captive, trained in combat to fight for the local warlord. I was raped last night....."

All, unfazed by her emotions and keeping a peaceful frame of mind, spoke to her. "You are here. You are welcome here, my child, just as I have given refuge to the boy and his family and the few inhabitants still in this village of New Bapa. No harm will come to you. I can keep you fed, but I can't heal your mental scars. You must do that for yourself, child."

She nodded as she bit into her apple some more.

All chuckled a bit. "I am afraid that all I have is fruit. I have plenty for you."

She wiped her tears as she swallowed. "Thank you, All. Thank you,"

The monk walked up to Zoe and put his hand to her head. She felt some sort of energy flood into her from him. She felt more confident and relaxed like she was filled with some kind of warmth from him. He closed his eyes and tried to measure something from her, then he backed a bit from her.

"What......what are you?" Zoe asked him as she bit into the apple.

"My name is All, my child," the monk quietly responded.

Zoe gave up on trying to figure out who he was. Her hunger was more important than anything else. All went and relaxed a bit on the bed the boy initially slept. Zoe finished up her apple, and the core remained as she opened up the door and threw it into the forest. She walked back into the house.

"It is bigger on the inside than outside," she commented to him.

"Aren't all houses seem bigger on the inside than the outside?" All asked.

"I.....yeah.....but it is really bigger on the inside," she decided to change the subject. "How did you get here? I have never seen a man like you before."

"I am a wandering monk, my child. I wanted to relax in a beautiful place, and I found it here out by the mountain in this land you call Liberia. Have you ever stopped to look at your forests?"

She had a disturbed look as she tried to respond. "It is.....pretty. How did you survive not being killed out here?"

He almost gave no response to her. He simply just smiled. "I simply say no to violence, Zoe. It will save you being here in my home by doing the same."

She thought to herself as she looked at the simple man. The answer was not satisfactory to her, but if he has made it this long out here, what would she argue with his beliefs? Nonetheless, it seemed like he was avoiding the answer. She could still hear distant wind chimes even though there was nothing around her that was generating it.

"How did they not kill you when the warlord took over this region?" she asked.

He had made his answer already. The man simply smiled at her.

"Let me ask you this, Zoe. What do you see from me besides this aura I am generating?"

"I see a man dressed in red robes. I thought that you were a white man at first, but you don't look like a white man. I never saw a man like you before."