Every Man's Fantasy Ch. 03

With a last laugh at the uncomfortable Earthman, trying (and failing) to use his one good arm to cover both his lap and his eyes, Annela and Tamar went off to the river.

Carlin and Wildchild were indeed having a wash, along with Erin, Dipti, Urulla and nearly all the Woodlanders. The pool was full. Annela and Tamar had to wait with a couple of others, but it was not long before there was space, as women climbed out of the river to dry themselves off in the warm afternoon sun.

The first out were Dagma, Sharne and Pepi, though Pepi had to be put back into the pool because, to her mother's exasperation and her own amusement, she had the clever idea of rolling in the dust on the ground to dry off.

There was mutual grooming after a bath because long hair needs to be combed. This communal activity gave an opportunity to gossip about the day's events. Most of the women had met Ezra by now, so Annela was spared some of the inevitable questioning as she and Tamar entered the river to bathe. When they had washed each other, Annela sat behind Tamar, combing tangles out of her long blonde hair. Most of the gossiping women had left to prepare for that night's feast, in eager anticipation of the time when Ezra should tell his story.

Wildchild, who did not care for any such frippery as combing her hair but merely shook it out and let it curl naturally, had a short whispered conversation with Tamar and went back to the hut to move their backpacks into Erin's hut. She now returned, cleaned and dressed, to help Tamar carry her bucket of water back for Ezra.

Ezra waited outside while Annela changed into her other set of clothes, then she undid his sling and helped him off with his shirt. She also removed the plaster from his head, reapplying a smaller one. He refused her offer to help with his trousers and to help wash him. He was getting adept at undressing with one arm, so she left him in the hut and went to give a report to Mirselene.

For some reason, her chief wanted an almost-hourly account of Ezra's status. Annela obliged, Mirselene was happy to learn that Ezra had mended enough to wash himself and was a little surprised that he was embarrassed by female nudity.

"I cannot complain, though," Mirselene concluded, almost to herself. "It sits happily with what I hoped."

Annela did not understand this but she did have a question.

"Madam, earlier today you got Parvinder to look at Ezra's injury."

"Yes, were you offended?"

"Not at all, I would have consulted her myself anyway; but it did make me wonder..."

"Yes?"

"Why did you choose me to be Ezra's nurse when Parvinder might have done a better job?"

"That's easy, child. It's because you're the prettiest of us."

"What difference could that make?" Annela asked, feeling herself begin to blush.

"You know I'm a schemer, Annela, a planner and plotter. I'm always trying to think a few moves ahead."

She put her soft plump hand on Annela's damask cheek.

"There is a purpose to all this, child, don't you worry."

Annela had to be content with this answer, which was no answer at all.

"And now, question for question," Mirselene said. "Why did you wait in the camp here when Carlin reported seeing an actual living man in the forest? Why didn't you rush out to see for yourself?"

"Because I didn't believe it, of course, Madam. Did you?"

"Oh yes. I never thought Carlin would make up something like that. I believed and I began thinking. I decided you should nurse our man before I'd even set eyes on him."

This was all Annela could get Mirselene to say but she resolved to find answers to her questions. There was only one person to ask. Casti was Urulla's mother and the woman who looked after the hens. Had she been ambitious rather than philosophical, she might have been chief instead of Mirselene; and she was perhaps the wisest of the Woodlanders. Annela would consult her at dinner that night.

Meanwhile, she thought Ezra must be finished washing and returned to her hut to check.

He had finished. He had used Annela's precious sponge carefully and afterward dipped his clothes in a bucket, shaking them out onto the floor. In a minute they were clean and dry, a benefit of modern self-cleaning synthetic materials. Ezra felt better, though he wished he could have shaved as well because his beard would reach the itchy stage in a few days; but there seemed to be no razors on Samothea. None the less, this was the best he had felt since his crash-landing. He was rested enough to face any kind of questioning at the feast and was even looking forward to telling his story.

Annela came in after knocking and helped Ezra put his shirt back on. He sat on the bed while she tied his arm in the sling and, a motherly touch, brushed his damp hair off his forehead. Then they were ready to join the others at dinner.

The preparations for the feast were almost complete and the hungry Woodlanders were milling about the stove and the various cooking pots, waiting for Mirselene to arrive. Normally they would eat when the food was ready but tonight was a special occasion, in honour of Ezra and their other guests.

It was not only the freshly-washed Woodlanders who had made an effort at grooming for that night's event. After dismissing Annela, Mirselene put on her best dress and arranged her hair (normally a severe bun) into a less severe bun. Of all the Woodlander women, in fact, the only one who did not dress up that evening was Dagma, to the disappointment and perplexity of her mother.

With the chief in place on her seat and the matrons suitably honoured and provisioned, the Woodlander feast began. Everyone set to eating her (and now also his) fill. Carlin, Wildchild and Tamar dutifully helped the older women to their platters and fetched cups or water or fruit juice until everyone insisted that they help themselves and sit down. The youths ate together and conversed quietly, the topic of their talk drowned by the louder voices of the older women.

Carlin whispered to Tamar how she and Wildchild had watched Dipti and Urulla from a hiding place. Tamar asked for the details but Carlin gave only a sketchy account, ending by saying "They're beautiful bed-mates."

"When I'm eighteen, Wildchild and I are going to be bed-mates," Tamar whispered back.

Carlin said nothing but she felt her face getting hot with a blush. Wildchild also heard but her face was inscrutable.

On the other side of the fire, Annela had left Ezra to the tender mercies of Mirselene and two matrons and gone to talk to Casti, who was always delighted to be consulted on any complicated matter. Also, since her daughter, Urulla, had recently begun sharing a hut with Dipti, Casti welcomed the company of such a bright youngster as Annela. They manoeuvred themselves to the end of a bench so their discussion could be relatively private.

Annela told Casti the part of her conversation that morning with Mirselene, where Mirselene had said that Tamar's question 'Why do we keep Adam?' was a good one.

"But it's obvious why we keep a cockerel, isn't it?" she insisted.

"Yes, dear, there is one obvious reason but there is also another reason. I doubt Tamar was thinking of it but I'm sure Mirselene was. Annela, have you ever seen how hens behave when there is no cock around?"

"No."

"Well, I have looked after the hens since I was a girl and once, long ago, the old cock was snatched by a peregrine and there was only a hatchling to take his place. I don't know if it's our particular breed of chicken or how we look after them but, golly, did the hens squabble without a cock to break up the fights! You know the pecking order they have now? Imagine the same thing but ten times worse. Some hens were plucked completely bare! The only thing worse than hens fighting is cocks fighting. That's why we keep only one adult male at a time."

Annela was silent, thinking. Then:

"But I've never seen Adam attack any of the hens or break up a fight between them."

"Nor have I," replied Casti, "but also I have never seen a squabble between hens break out into a real fight when there is an adult cock around. The hens never gang up on each other, even if Adam is too far away to intervene. It is always one-on-one when our hens bicker. I think it's his influence."

Annela was silent again.

"It's a interesting idea isn't it?" Casti continued, reading Annela's thoughts, as she tried to guess what Mirselene had been pondering. "Have you never wondered why our chiefs are, how shall I say it, the least feminine of us?"

"But Mirselene is very feminine," Annela protested.

"Perhaps so, in her manner, and of course she is greatly blessed with tits, but you must admit that she is not otherwise very feminine; and just think of Belena and Solange ..."

Annela had seen Belena, chief of the Mariners, and Solange, chief of the Herders. Both were warrior women: muscular, strong and (in the case of Solange) aggressive. Where Mirselene was stout and dumpy, Belena and Solange were athletic. Solange was also flat-chested; but Mirselene was as strong mentally as the other chiefs. She ruled by force of personality, while (Annela was sure) the other chiefs added physical domination to their authority.

"We Woodlanders are gentle and shy," Casti continued, "so Mirselene need not bully like Solange or constantly show off like Belena; but you'll admit that Mirselene has self-confidence and never needs our reassurance. The rest of us are always worrying what someone else thinks of us."

"That's true."

"So notice that Adam has no trouble being the only cockerel, while the silly hens, though they squabble and bicker, cannot bear to be alone. Even enemies who pecked at each other earlier that day will clump together on their perches at night - for fellowship, I suspect, as much as for warmth."

"You do have interesting ideas, Casti. Do you think Mirselene considers us no different from a bunch of silly hens?" she asked with a smile.

"Now, don't take a metaphor too far, Annela. No doubt she thinks some of us are hens - but she thinks others of us are more like cows or ducks."

Annela laughed and Casti summed up their conversation:

"I expect Mirselene has thought more than any of us about what Ezra's presence will mean for the Woodlanders. I would like to know what she has decided but I can't expect her to confide in any of us. We'll know soon enough, no doubt."

This conclusion seemed to satisfy Casti, so there was nothing more to say, but the two women remained silent, thinking.

Now that even Ezra had finished eating (and it was amazing to the women who had seen him eat two platters only three or four hours ago that he yet had the largest appetite in the camp) it was time to listen to his story.

Calling for silence, Mirselene stood and said a few words of introduction:

"Ladies, by now we have all met and welcomed our three charming guests. I am sure Ezra, Wildchild and Tamar are in turn beginning to know us and get used to our peculiar ways. I hope their stay with us will be long and happy."

The Woodlanders clapped or cheered their approval.

"Last night, Wildchild and Tamar told us their story. Tonight I invite Ezra to say some words about his mission from Earth to find us, the lost remnants of brave pioneers. Tomorrow night it will be our turn to tell him the Story of Samothea."

"Ezra, the floor is yours. I hope you will not mind answering our questions, simple and backward as our life is compared to what you know on Earth."

"Madam, Ladies," Ezra began, "Chief Mirselene is too modest on your behalf. I am far from thinking your life is simple and backward. Rather, I am in awe of everything you do. I certainly would not be able to survive as you have without modern technology, still less live in comfort as you do. You are the most resourceful people I have met."

This praise was enjoyed; and Ezra genuinely meant what he said, even though his thoughts that morning about transforming the Woodlander's lives with modern tools (if he could only salvage them from his ship) were also true.

Ezra then began his story. He explained what a planetary prospector was and told how he had researched Samothea in the libraries of Earth; how he had sought funding for the trip; how he received the qualified support of the original prospecting and settling companies; how he borrowed money from friends and family; how he left a letter with his sister Danielle; how he tested his engines and visited Capella to stock up (was it really only a week or so ago?); and how he crash-landed a dead ship in the ocean. The rest - his journey to the Woodlander camp - they knew from Tamar.

Now the questions began; but they were not about ancestral Earth or the wonders of space-flight, the comforts of modern technology or the chances of future visitors from Earth. They were about women's fashions and sexual relationships.

What little Ezra knew of women's fashions was through his mother, a society beauty and trend-setter, so what he said surprised them all. None could believe that clothing was so abundant on Earth that some women never wore the same dress twice; nor that Ezra's mother, Mariotta, had refused to speak to a friend for over a year because that friend had worn the same colour dress as her to a ball and did not go home to change. He told them that the fashion industry and the general public had almost opposite ideals of female beauty. The fashion industry's ideal woman was an dangerously skinny seventeen-year-old, preferably with a drug-habit. For red-blooded heterosexual males, however, the ideal woman was a curvaceous thirty-year-old.

The questions about relationships between the sexes were quite tame at first. The women wanted to know what marriage was like, what were Earth-women like, how women treated other women and, especially, how men and women treated each other.

He answered the questions as honestly as he could but he avoided too much personal detail. To tell the truth, there was little he could say. He had never been married and his longest relationship was for only five years. He was not about to tell the Woodlanders that, as a planet-hopping space-gypsy, most of his relationships with women in the last fifteen years had been brief and professional.

Darkness fell quickly on the camp. A strong west-wind rustled the tree-tops and lent a chill to the air. The roaring camp fire spread haphazard flickers painting the Woodlanders' faces in sharp-shadowed beauty. Soon the night-rain would put an end to the feast, sparing Ezra further questioning. For now, though, his audience were emboldened to ask details about his own life: Was a woman waiting for him back on Earth? Was he married? What type of women did he like best: what colour hair, what kind of figure, how tall, what colour eyes?

Ezra deflected all such questions with the skill of a politician and Mirselene's gruff cough also occasionally signalled that questioning had gone too far.

To the surprise of those who knew her as a quiet and naturally shy girl, Urulla had asked the most questions. Her eyes shone with the true student's intensity, as she listened to Ezra's account of marriage and Earthly ideas of femininity and masculinity. Someone else whose eyes shone was Dagma. Noticed only by Annela, her plain homely face was animated by the keenest interest.

Altogether, the Woodlanders were satisfied with what they had learned about Earth and doubtless judged that Ezra would be more forthcoming about sex when they got to know him better. As Mirselene gave the order to clear up the plates, each woman secretly planned to get to know Ezra better. Reluctantly, the Woodlanders left the feast to settle down for the night. They thanked Ezra for his story, wished him goodnight and returned to their huts to sleep.

When Ezra was lying on her bed, Annela propped his arm on a cushion then lay down on the floor with the blanket. Annela felt she had to apologise for something.

"Ezra, I know you answered our questions openly but I am ashamed of how we asked you about sex and fashions on Earth. We didn't ask you anything that mattered, about how we could improve life here."

"I disagree, Annela. I admit that I was a little embarrassed by some of the questions but I understand their motivation. I am one of those who thinks that science and facts about the world are what matter most. Most people think that relationships matter most. Maybe they are right."

She heard the drowsiness in his voice. Clearly, telling his story had tired him out again.

"I'm not sure that was the motivation of the questions, but I like your way of looking at it. Good night, Ezra."

"Good night, Annela."

As she dozed off to sleep, Annela thought she had found something else to like about Ezra. He was scrupulously polite, even chivalrous, but he disagreed with her without hesitation when he thought she was wrong. She liked that. She liked it very much; though she could not say why she liked it. Here was a new puzzle for her to think about at the end of a puzzling day.