That Damned Blessing Ch. 01

Jess played out a length of cable, her arms moving in a blur, and when she had enough to start with she sprinted toward the water. She could see that Ryan was going to get to the boy, but... "Hold on, baby," she said through gritted teeth.

The kid panicked. As Ryan's outstretched hand got within a foot of him, he let go and grabbed for his would-be rescuer -- and just like that he was sucked under water. Without thinking, because thinking would have been fatal, Ryan let go and followed, hands clutching, grasping at swirling, frothing water.

On shore, Jessica stopped dead, hands on the side of her head, howled in utter despair, and cut herself off an instant later when Ryan emerged, head above water, the child in one arm and the other holding onto a whorl in the tree trunk. Like her son, she acted without conscious thought as she sprinted forward, whirling the end of the cable over her head like a cowboy whirls a lasso, and casting it toward the two struggling figures.

Ryan saw the cable coming and saw it splash short on the wrong side of the fallen log. There was no way he could reach it. The boy was screaming in terror -- he could hear it now that the child's mouth was next to his ear -- and squirming, trying to grab any piece of Ryan he could get. Ryan tightened his grasp on the child, but he felt his other hand slipping on the wet wood. He wasn't sure how much longer he could hold on --

And then Jess threw again and the end of the cable landed four feet away, the hook on the end bouncing in the current. Fucking A mom, nice throw! he thought as he fought against water to pull himself closer. A few inches, another adjustment of his handhold, ignoring that the kid in his arms just kicked him right in the balls in his terror -- and then suddenly his hand closed around the cable.

On the bank, Jessica leaped up like a cheerleader, kicking her legs and pumping her fist, then sprinted back to the car.

Ryan felt the cable begin to pull as the winch kicked into gear. He held on with the last of his strength as he was lifted up and over the log and pulled through thirty feet of water so white and fierce that he honestly had no idea how he'd safely traversed it in the first place. His feet found the bottom but still he let the cable guide him for another twenty feet until, aching and chilled to the bone, he carried the screaming child onto dry land.

Jessica was there in an instant, arms around him, tears on her face as she hugged her boy. "That was crazy, baby, you could have died!"

Ryan said nothing. He just handed her the child and dropped onto his butt on the ground.

She did her best to calm the boy. Her words meant nothing to him but her tone was one of universal motherly comfort, and after a couple of minutes she had subdued him from shrieks of terror to sobs of emotional release. By then Ryan was back on his feet. "Holy fuck," he panted, "that was nuts."

Paul and Jessica discouraged that kind of language from their children, but he had earned the right to say whatever he fucking well felt like so she let it go. "Are you OK?" she asked him.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine." He was a little scraped and dinged from being knocked around, but it was nothing that would slow him down. He looked across the river to where the people were standing; they now seemed to be quite happy, which was understandable. He spotted some buildings peeking out from trees upstream, as well as the ruins of a small bridge. "I guess this little guy fell in and got swept over here," he mused. "With the bridge out, they couldn't get across to save him. Anyone going in the river from that side would be as good as dead."

They spent the next couple of minutes sharing gestures across the water -- the roar of the river made it impossible to be heard -- and at last they made it clear that they would take the child back down the mountain, cross on the one remaining bridge, and come back up the other side to deliver the boy to his very relieved parents.

Jessica was careful on the drive down; she had already witnessed one near-calamity today and she had no desire to make it two. The little boy, who would say nothing at all in any language, clung to Ryan like a baby monkey to a wire mother for the whole way down and then the whole way back up; for his part, Ryan just hugged the scared little guy.

Unlike earlier, neither Ryan nor his mother were quiet as they made their way to the village. Adrenaline had revved them both up, and as it died it made both of them chattery. They went over and over the events, each showering praise on the other for bravery, for calmness, for quick thinking. About halfway to the village it began to sink in for Ryan that both he and the child he held had been on the knife-edge of death -- a single false move, a finger placed wrong, an unseen piece of debris hitting him below the water, anything, and both of them would have been knocked off their handhold and drowned or been battered to death as the torrent swept down the mountainside. Funny, but it was only fifteen minutes after he got out of the water that he got scared.

The shakes passed before they arrived. It was about half an hour before they pulled into the collection of run-down wooden houses that was the child's home. The whole village was outside to meet them, and the inhabitants had shifted out of their ordinary clothes into what must have constituted the local equivalent of Sunday best. The group of villagers was fronted by an impressively dignified elderly man and a woman of great age who appeared less dignified only because she was very bent and leaning on a cane. Before the head of the welcoming committee could speak, however, a young woman broke from the group and raced to the jeep. The boy, upon seeing her, leaped from Ryan's arms and threw himself at the young woman; mother and son were joined by a man and a couple of children pretty close to the rescued boy's age, and the hugging was ferocious all around. Ryan and Jessica watched with enormous smiles.

The old man stepped forward and spoke excellent English with an Australian accent. "Welcome to Paranku village. My name is Adouwe. We thank you for what you have done today."

Jessica and Ryan climbed out of the jeep, with Ryan saying, "It was my pleasure, Mr. Adouwe. We couldn't let the little guy come to any harm."

"What's his name?" Jess asked.

"That is Aneri, my great-grandson," Adouwe said with obvious pride. "His father is Manu and his mother is Noelani."

"My name is Ryan McCullen," Ryan said. He was just about to introduce his mother when she said, "And I'm Jessica McCullen"

The old man seemed obscurely pleased by the introduction, and a happy murmur passed through the small crowd. "Good," Adouwe said. "Good! We are very blessed this day to make your acquaintance. We are preparing a feast in your honor. Will you stay and eat with us?"

Ryan almost said no such thanks was necessary, but Jessica stepped in. If someone had just saved her baby the way that they had saved Aneri, she would damned well have wanted to feed them until they exploded. "We'd be delighted and very, very honored, Mr. Adouwe Thank you."

"Yes, definitely," Ryan nodded. He caught on quickly.

At the news, people scattered to their various homes to begin preparations, leaving only Adouwe and the old woman with them.

After everything that had happened, what Jessica did next was wholly understandable. She stepped up to Ryan, put her arms around him, and pulled him into an enormous hug, pausing only to put an adoring kiss on his cheek. "You were amazing, you know that?"

Ryan blushed and smiled. "Thank you. You were pretty quick-thinking yourself."

Adouwe watched the pride and the love between the two, and he seemed to make up his mind on something. He leaned over and spoke to the woman in Ranuan, the native language; their conversation was brief and punctuated by looks and gestures at Ryan and Jess, and the old woman seemed slightly dubious about something but allowed herself to be convinced in the end. Finally Adouwe said, "We want to thank you with more than just a meal. What you have done for us cannot be repaid, and our village is poor. We can't give you money, but we can give you something else, if you're willing."

Once more Ryan was on the point of refusing, but Jessica knew better; if the places were reversed, a refusal would feel like an insult. "We'd be very happy, yes. Thank you."

"What is it?" Ryan inquired. "Or is it rude to ask? I'm sorry if it is."

"No, it's not rude," Adouwe laughed merrily. "It's a ceremony, a blessing. It's the greatest blessing we can give you. It's one that hasn't been done for many, many years, but you've earned it if anyone has."

Neither Jess nor Ryan was very surprised. The people here seemed very religious with a unique mixture of Catholicism from the nuns and their persistent native beliefs, so it wasn't surprising that a blessing would be offered for saving one of their children. The McCullens weren't religious folk -- Paul and Ryan were atheists, while Jess considered herself agnostic; Kim was the most religious of the bunch, and even she was sort of vaguely "spiritual." Still, they had religious friends and had attended plenty of weddings and funerals, and they knew that sometimes you just shut up and went with it to please people. "We'd be honored," Jess told him.

Adouwe did seem pleased -- his smile became huge and he said, "Good! Good! It will take some time to prepare the ritual -- not long, perhaps an hour or so. Come, come into my house and rest."

"Will we need to do anything in the ritual?" Ryan asked, following along behind the old couple. "Because we don't speak your language."

"Oh no, nothing at all except sitting and breathing," the elder said, climbing the three steps to his door and opening it for them. Like a lot of village houses, Adouwe's residence was raised a few feet off the ground on short stilts to let water pass beneath -- like many tropical islands, it rained every day here in brief but very intense downbursts, and the houses were lifted up to let water pass beneath them rather than through them. "We will do all the work. Still, it may be a rather...hmmm, what is the word...intense experience for you."

Jess arched an eyebrow as she sat in a plain wooden chair in what seemed to be a living room of sorts. "In what way?" she asked. "Will we need to...dance, or..."

"No, no dancing, you'll just sit," he assured them. "But some of these rituals can be very strenuous even simply to sit and watch. I can't say for sure with this one, I've never even seen it done."

"Oh, why's that?" Ryan asked.

"Because it hasn't been possible to perform the ceremony since before I was born," Adouwe said. "It requires the use of two flowers freshly picked from different plants, and each of them can go years or decades without ever blossoming at all. Unless both plants are blossoming at the same time, the ritual can't be done. This is the first year in my lifetime that that's been the case. In fact, the second of the plants only started blooming three days ago. We wondered what it meant, who was to receive the blessing, but I think the gods have made it obvious that you two are the worthy ones. You're the first outsiders ever to receive it."

"It sounds like a tremendous honor," Jessica said truthfully. The blessing might just be a quaint native superstition to her, but it was obvious that being so rare made it of great import to their hosts. It was thrilling in a way -- they would probably be the first non-natives even to witness this ceremony.

"Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go gather the materials," Adouwe said. "My daughters will be along shortly to see if you need anything." He made to leave the building, then stopped and asked, "Oh, there is one thing. Where are you from?"

"You mean what city?" Ryan asked. "Milwaukee."

That seemed to catch Adouwe short, but he mostly concealed his frown. "Meewakay?"

"Milwaukee."

"Meeahwakay..."

"That's close enough," Ryan assured him with a grin.

"No, it is vital I get it right," Adouwe told them. "Say it again, please."

Ryan nodded. "Milwaukee."

"Meelwaukee."

"Milwaukee."

"Meewauklee."

"Milwaukee."

"Mihilwaukee."

"Better. Milwaukee."

"Milwaukee."

"Yes, that's it!" Jess said happily. "Milwaukee."

"Milwaukee," Adouwe murmured, rolling the word in his mouth as if savoring the flavor. "Milwaukee. Milwaukee..." He left the building muttering the word over and over.

The old woman -- they still didn't know her name -- stayed behind. She stared back and forth between them and then settled her eyes on Jessica. Slowly she stumped forward on her cane until she was only a couple of feet away, then she leaned in and peered closely at Jess' face. Jessica had no idea what to do -- was this normal? Was the old lady being rude? Was it a gesture of respect? The woman was rather intimidating for all her great age, and Jess found herself shooting worried glances across the room to where her son was sitting and smirking at her discomfort, the brat. She was just about to say something when the old woman apparently satisfied herself of something -- or dissatisfied herself, if her expression was any judge -- then turned and clumped vigorously from the hut.

"That was...weird..." Jess said after a bit.

"Very," Ryan agreed. "What was she looking at?"

"My eyes, I think. I don't know."

"Maybe she doesn't like green eyes?"

"They look brown in this light anyway."

"Oh. Maybe she thinks you're trying to steal her son."

Jess snorted. "You think she's his mother? I thought they were married."

"She looks twenty years older to me," he mused. "Or maybe it's the red hair. That can't be common around here."

"Maybe. We gingers have it rough everywhere."

"Whine, whine, whine," he chuckled, and she stuck out her tongue at him.

It was then that the door opened and a pair of middle-aged women entered, one with a large orange plastic bowl of flower-strewn water and the other with two folded, rather threadbare towels and a small stack of washcloths. The items were placed on the floor between Ryan and Jess, and one of the women said in barely intelligible English, "Hello sirs. We make ready for pilaliuta."

"Pilaliuta?" Ryan asked, baffled.

"They must mean the ceremony, dear," Jess said. "Alright, what do we do?"

As it turned out, verbal communications were impossible. One of the women seemed to know a few dozen words of English, none of them particularly useful, while the other seemed to speak none at all. Mime was a universal language, however, and with gestures they made it clear that they had come to wash Jess and Ryan's hands and feet. They set about their business with efficiency and, it quickly became clear, a specific pattern in mind. Each hand and arm was washed up to the elbow, and each foot and calf was washed to the knee, and each limb was washed with exactly nine strokes of the cloth on each of front, back, and both sides. The women kept up a lovely, lilting chant as they worked, and they seemed delighted with their task.

"This is...unusual," Ryan murmured about halfway through.

"It's like a spa day!" Jess enthused. "These ladies could make a lot of money at the casino spa when it opens, their hands are wonderful."

"It does feel nice," Ryan admitted. "I'm just not used to being...abluted like this."

"Abluted!" Jess giggled. "Good Scrabble word."

The women finished their task and left, and no sooner were they gone than two younger women showed up, each bearing a dish of fruit slices -- it was hard to tell exactly which fruit, but it was either oranges or one of the several fruits that look and taste almost like them.

"So this is what a spa is like, huh?" Ryan asked as he nibbled a slice.

"Usually there's more mud and cucumber slices, but yeah, mostly like this."

"Huh. Well, I guess I can see why you'd like it."

"Oooh! We can go to a spa together when we get home!" Jess said happily. "Just us girls!"

For that, Jess was pelted with an orange slice.

They were smelling delicious cooking by the time Adouwe returned with a small sack and a triumphant smile. He opened the door and bustled through to the back room, nearly beside himself with excitement as he called, "My friends, another few minutes only."

A minute later the door opened again and the old woman reappeared. Once more she stumped to Jess, peered at her closely, and made a sound of disgust before turning away and pursuing Adouwe No sooner had she gotten to the back room when Ryan and Jess heard the two old people arguing; although they didn't understand a word, it had the sound of a disagreement continued rather than one just begun.

"What is her problem?" Ryan hissed.

Jess nibbled her lower lip, then said, "This ceremony, this blessing, is a once in a lifetime event for these people. It's obviously got tremendous cultural significance. She probably doesn't like the idea of it being given to foreigners."

"Then why isn't she just as mad at me? She seems to be focusing on you."

"Well...you went in the water to save Aneri. You're the hero, I just helped."

"That's garbage. If you hadn't used the jeep to haul us out of there, we both would have drowned. You saved me and the boy."

"Maybe she doesn't see it that way. Or maybe this blessing is usually only given to men."

"Maybe. It seems personal, though."

They didn't have time to continue with their discussion, though, because from outside there came the sound of dozens of voices singing together. Jess and Ryan exchanged looks, then stood and went to the window. Outside, in the little crossroad that passed for the town square, the whole population had gathered and were singing them a serenade, or, given that a religious event was about to be held, perhaps a hymn.

"It's beautiful," Jess said softly, taking her son's hand and giving it a squeeze. "I wonder what it means?"

"It's time," came Adouwe's voice from behind them. Turning, they saw the old man smiling at them, and particularly at their clasped hands. He held a wooden bowl in both hands. "Um...Ryan McCullen? And Jessica McCullen? Am I saying your names right?"

This again. Ryan grinned and nodded. "Exactly right."

"Milwaukee?"

"Milwaukee."

Adouwe beamed. "Come, follow me."

He led them out of the house and into the square. The people formed a semi-circle around them, and Adouwe's daughters set out a pair of stools and gestured for Jess and Ryan to sit. Ryan hadn't been all that thrilled with the idea of the blessing to begin with. It wasn't that he was opposed, but he hadn't understood the point. Now that it was here, the palpable excitement of the little crowd, the sense of anticipation, the joy, the eagerness, it all began to get to him. He discovered to his surprise that he had a few butterflies in his stomach.

Jessica simply sat and beamed. She couldn't have been more delighted.

Adouwe began the ceremony straightaway. He faced the pair, back to the natives, held the bowl aloft, and began to chant. The McCullen's made out only a few words -- "Ryan McCullen blah blah Milwaukee blah blah Jessica McCullen blah blah Milwaukee blah blah Milwaukee blah Milwaukee..." It was like Milwaukee was being thanked more than they were, but at least that explained why Adouwe insisted on learning the pronunciation so precisely.

How odd, Jessica thought as she listened. I can't understand a word, but I feel like I know what he's going to say next...

This went on for only a few minutes, and then there was a few minutes of call-and-response, with him shouting different phrases and the crowd shouting back with a formula that was partially the shouted phrase and partially something that stayed the same each time.