ii – the forest (cont)  

   He appeared to be about Yanna and Neenus age, around ten years; however he was at least a foot taller than each of them. His body had not yet fully developed yet so his head and feet were both far too big for his lanky thin frame. When he spoke, his head wobbled from side to side as if on a spring. He wore bright white shoes made of some sort of unknown material and a pair of shredded-off cloth fabric shorts. On his upper body was a peculiar garment with large buttons up the front of it. Across the chest in large old English letters were the words: Y-A-N-K-E-E-S. 

Tristi heard La’ni utter the word ‘Yennkee,’ in a soft curious whisper and was surprised to learn that she could read the text.

But the most startling thing about the boy was his color. His skin was a deep dark black. Almost midnight. Almost the color of the center of the eye. His own eyes were huge round and seemingly glowed white against the black canvas backdrop of his skin. His lips were full and moist and parted slightly. His face held a look of a commander as he stood with one skinny arm on his hip, and the other clutching some sort of wooden weapon. His vocal demand gave way to a silent reprimand.

La’ni pocketed her dagger and jumped down from the fallen tree. She spent a quick glance at Tristi who nodded to her, indicating that in light of the new situation, all was forgotten. For the time being. 

La’ni was about to speak when the boy moved forward toward them, directing his orders to Slavegirl Say. He apparently had no fear at all.

“I said dat’s my mitt woman! YOU best go on and give it to me befo’ I haffa come get it from you.”

With that the boy raised the wooden pole up and rested it menacingly on his shoulder. His other hand reached out to her, palm up.

Slavegirl Say clutched her new glove close to her chest and turned her body away from him.

The boy kept his hand out, but he also smiled slightly as he looked Say up and down from head to toe.

“She aint all there in da head is she.” The boy commented to no one in particular.

“Does anyone have any idea what the little guy is saying?” Simi asked.

Tristi did.

She could understand the old English speak. Lessons her Ma'Maw taught her before her light went out. She suspected that La’ni could understand as well seeing as how she had deciphered the word ‘Yankees.’

She wanted to see just how much La’ni knew and how much she would reveal. So Tristi kept her knowledge to herself.   

“So, Waa chew white peeps doin up in dis forest anyway? Yous tryin to get buried?”  

La’ni considered her options. She didn’t want to alarm the group until it was absolutely necessary. The boy didn’t seem like he was a threat. He just wanted his ‘glove’ back. 

But who could tell for certain. She understood only bits and pieces of his speech. She kept glancing around for fear there would be more of him.

She decided to come clean.

“I think I understand a little. He is asking for his glove back.” La’ni reported.    

Before she had even finished her sentence Spanish had ripped the glove out of Slavegirl Says embrace and placed it into the outstretched hand of the boy.  

Say erupted in a spew of unintelligible babblings. La’ni quickly backhanded her and she hit the ground with a thud.  

Simi winced and bent down to help her up. 

The boy snapped:

“Hey Yo, why you be treatin’ dat girl like so! You keep on messin’ round woman and I’ll have Buster Pappy go up side yo head wit dis bat, dig?”

Strange and deeply black colored as he was, he was still a male and La'ni had had enough! She was still riled up inside over Spanish’s insubordination. She wasn’t about to take it from someone she didn’t even know. He needed to be taught a lesson.   

She took two quick steps forward and felt a sharp pain just above her kneecap. She looked down and saw some sort of pink feather sticking out of her leg. She tried to reach her hand down to pull it out however her arms were suddenly frozen. She tried to move her legs and found the same.

Panic set in as sudden colorful movement sprang up all around her. She could see out of the corner of her eye that the others were dropping around her. She saw Simi hit the ground to her left, several of the feathery things sticking out of her back.

She struggled against the feeling of calm sleepiness that was overtaking her. She almost laughed despite the situation. She rolled her eyes as far right as possible and thought she saw a group of midnight dark men stepping out of the trees. She wanted to laugh…and then everything slipped away as she faded into a brilliant hallucinogenic sleep.

   Tristi knew who they were. Her mother had spoken of them often when she was a girl. Stories of the beautiful dark skinned warrior men who inhabited the land beyond the Hell desert. She had never believed her mothers stories, until today.

Supposedly her real father hailed from this land. 

These men were indeed beautiful. Deep dark taut skin and colorful garments. Their hair was ornamented with braids and ribbons. Some had large bright gold rings through their earlobes.

However they were also terribly dangerous. Tristi knew better than to fight. And there was a part of her that didn’t even feel like she had to. A part of her that felt oddly at home.

She had her dagger drawn and she turned around slowly as the men surrounded her. There were at least forty of them. Maybe more out in the forest beyond eyesight.

Only her, Spanish and Hep remained standing. The rest of her group lay on the ground at her feet. She assumed it was some sort of temporary poison to subdue them. She hoped as much.

  A very tall, very stately, very deep black man stepped forward. He had on light blue pants of some sturdy material. He was shirtless and a large thick gold colored chain ornament hung from his neck. On it was a circular medallion with the old English letters NY inside of it.

His face was kind, yet she could see war in the creases that formed to the side of his slightly tilted dark eyes. His nose was firm and diving, straight down toward his moist parted lips. His teeth glowed brightly inside a mouth that stretched wide into his squared jaw. A shock of dark hair jet out from the top of his head and waterfalled down upon his shoulders in tight tiny colorful beads. 

He held an odd black piece of metal in his right hand that he held out in front of him and pointed at Hep.

He spoke in Hep’s direction: “Waa chew white umans doin’ in da Forest? You lost or sumptin’?”

Hep raised his eyebrow quizzically and looked to Tristi for guidance.

Tristi understood the words…she just didn’t understand what they meant.

Still, she pocketed her dagger and raised her hands in a defenseless pose.

She considered her words and spoke as clearly as she could:

“We came ports cities Jetti across hots Hells. We no seek bury. We seek homes for to lives friends.”

The man tilted his head and raised the corner of his lip in a smile. He moved forward until only a few steps separated them.

Tristi felt the heat from his solid body. The muscles rippled like waves as he moved. 

He reached out the hand that wasn’t holding the metal piece and he gently ran the tips of his fingers down the side of her face, along her jaw line, and let his index finger rest in the deep cleft of her chin.

“You be quite a woman.” He said in a whimsical voice.

Tristi didn’t know what to do or say. Of course she was a woman. Did he need to touch her to figure that out? She wondered if these sub-species were just pretty decorated boxes full of animal **** for brains.  

She nodded her head and smiled back. However out of the corner of her eye she saw Spanish reach his hand down into his pocket. She knew what he was going for. She also knew it would mean death for him.

“Spanish. No.” She casually said without taking her eyes off the man in front of her. 

She saw Spanish frown for a moment before one of the feathery darts struck him in the neck and he toppled over.          

Tristi, still looking directly at the man searched the darkness of his eyes for answers. There was only playfulness and joy. She asked:

“Whats plan do withs us?”

The man looked around at the fallen group.

“Dey will be taken to da auction yard and sold for trade. You, da brave boy you caw Spaneesh an da udder man will be taken to da palace where you will serve da Captain.” He looked her over again and added, “In one way or anudder.”

“Buster Pappy…Buster Pappy.” The boy with the strange wooden weapon hopped around at the tall mans side.

“Waa tees so importan’ Tricky dat you hafta bodder me when Im talkin’?”

“Can I be takin da one slow one wit da short hair too? Pleazze! I promise I be good to her!”

Buster Pappy frowned. “Tell me boy, why you be putting yer new mitt in da tree anyways. Huh?”

“Cause Demmi would take it Pappy! He take it an he won give it back.”

Buster Pappy shook his head. “You gotta stand up for yo self Tricky, ya hear me?”

“Yes sir! I will! Now can I haf her pleeese?”  

Buster Pappy looked at Slavegirl Say and shrugged his shoulders. 

Then he nodded his head to a group of men standing off to the side. One went and grabbed Hep by this arm.

Hep offered no resistance however his face was contorted into a look of blind fear. The other two men picked up the unconscious bodies of slavegirl Say and Spanish and slung them over their shoulders. 

Buster Pappy nodded approvingly and turned his attention back to Tristi. 

“An you my dear…you be comin’ wit me den.”

Tristi smiled and nodded her head.

“But first you be handed over da weapon, right.”

Tristi hesitated, then recognized the look of a killer in the mans eyes. She produced her dagger and handed it over to him with a smile. His time would come.

Buster Pappy took Tristi by the arm and began to gently lead her away into the forest. A glance behind her saw the other men following behind with Slavegirl Say, Hep and Spanish.

Beyond them, the rest of the group was being picked up roughly by the remaining men and slung over their shoulders.

Tristi wondered if she would ever see Simi again. She wondered if she would ever see any of them again.

   They walked for roughly an hour without saying a word. Tristi had completely lost track of her direction. She had never exactly been a skilled tracker but she was capable of holding her own. At least until this forest.

She was about to ask Buster Pappy how much longer it would be until they reached their destination when a beam of refreshing sunlight struck the top of her head.

As she looked up to greet the sun the group suddenly emerged out of the forest into a clearing of soft short freshly trimmed grass. Tristi sighed with relief…then she raised her hands to her mouth as she gasped and took a step backwards. What lay before her, beyond the sweeping green field, was a sight that was as breathtakingly beautifully as it was alarming.

Buster Pappy took her hand and urged her forward gently.

“Welcome to New World city.”