Chad stood before the village chief, feeling just as much the tiny child he had become. The chief sat across from Chad in an open-air pavilion surrounded by other smaller tents, where the chief and his wives and husbands lived at the heart of the jungle village. As Chad ‘knew’ from Chatok’s memories still swimming around in his head, the chief was a person of great spiritual importance to the tribe, seen as one of the vessels of the jungle goddess’s wisdom. As such, he consciously blurred the line between male and female in his dress; his long hair was just as carefully braided and decorated as Chad’s was, and he wore brightly dyed, loose-fitting garments wrapped around his body in an effeminate style, and his face was delicately painted to make his features look almost womanly.
But the furious glare he was giving Chad at the moment was anything but feminine. Deep down, Chad knew this man wasn’t really his father, but the shame he felt all throughout his skinny young body made it feel just like he was being lectured by a parent. The chief’s wives hurried between the nearby tents busily, or at least trying to look like they were keeping busy instead of eavesdropping on what was being said.
“You know how important you and Maa’ti are to this tribe, but you wandered into danger anyway!” the chief growled. “And don’t tell me Ruut forced you into it. He might be clever enough to learn the medicine man’s plant-lore, but you’re smart enough to know when he’s trying to lead you on!”
“Yes, father…” Chad replied pitifully, a tear gathering in the corner of one eye. “It won’t happen again…”
“You do not believe that, and neither do I. You are reckless and do not consider the consequences of your actions,” the chief replied. “...Maa’ti, she is to be your first wife someday, the most honored role she could possibly have in our village. You know why she was chosen, correct?”
Chad felt a flicker of memories in the back of his head, as though he had heard this lecture a dozen times before. “Yes. Because Maa’ti’s father saved your life from a jaguar. As thanks, you offered to wed his first daughter to your first son and bond the families together,” Chatok spoke reverently through Chad’s lips.
“Correct. And by putting her in danger, you cheapen not just her life and yours, but mine as well,” the chief lectured, and a pang of shame shook Chatok’s entire body. “...My son, I do love you. You are a kind and quick-witted boy, but I worry that your wits will bring you into danger without proper guidance. Guidance which I fear I cannot give you.”
The chief raised one hand and beckoned to someone behind Chad, and he heard heavy footsteps approaching. A tall, lean tribesman knelt next to Chad, looking reverently at the chief. His leanly-muscled body was dotted with spots of white body pain, his hair was pulled back into a tight ponytail, and at his side was a stone dagger chipped from a piece of obsidian and with a hilt made of delicately carved wood.
Chad didn’t know this man, but Chatok certainly did. The greatest hunter in the entire village, Nequi, who on his own could keep half the village fed with meat, fish, and the bountiful fruit the jungle held. Chad felt Chatok’s emotions blurring with his own as he gazed upon the legendary huntsman; this was the sort of man that Chatok dreamt of becoming, able to venture into the wild to provide for his people, and to explore the deepest, most innate mysteries of the jungle herself.
“I’ve seen it in your eyes, my son,” the chief said fondly. “You are growing older, and no longer wish to be trapped in the village like a child. Your journeys into the jungle with Ruut make this clear. But you must learn to stay safe, to learn the ways of survival, or all you are doing is running to your death.”
“I would be honored to train the boy, my chief,” Nequi said. “The bow and the knife will fit in his hands like a glove by the time he comes of age.”
“Good. And perhaps by then, you will have settled down enough to take seriously your future as chief, Chatok,” the chief added solemnly, and Chad found himself nodding his head to that, feeling a childish excitement building inside him. “Well then, I hope this is the last time we have this talk, Chatok. You are free to go.”
Chatok jumped to his feet and bowed gratefully to his father and to Nequi, then he dashed out of the pavilion with his braids flailing free behind him and his bare, brown-skinned feet practically skipping over the ground.
--------------------------------
“A hunter… Me? Really?” Chatok said happily to himself as he skipped around the village. “Nobody’s gonna call me a spoiled brat once I start bringing meat and fish back! I’ll show ‘em I’m more than just the chief’s son!”
However, soon his steps slowed and he felt a wave of unease. The jungle boy’s enthusiasm had overtaken Chad’s mind again, and in doing so he had basically trapped himself here in the village by agreeing to learn from the hunter. Chad knew that the more he immersed himself into this tribal society, the more he was in danger of losing himself, of becoming nothing but a silly little kid from this primitive yet admirably beautiful tribe. And with Nequi teaching him everything he knew about how to live from the land, Chad wasn’t sure if he’d be able to hold onto himself.
He shook his head, feeling his braids flail behind him. “All this hair… Why can’t I just cut it…?” he thought to himself, although truth be told he was growing fond of his lovely long hair and the intricate beads and feathers that decorated it. It made him special, marked him as a person of importance, made it clear that he truly was his father’s son. Girls fawned over his boyish cuteness and boys wanted to be his friend (or at least, to be favored by the boy that would be chief some day).
Was is really so bad, living here? Sure, he didn’t have a cell phone, or a car, or even running water, but didn’t he have everything he’d need and more to be… happy? Successful? At least he still had Rob, another person stuck in the same situation as he was…
Speaking of, just as Chad turned the corner around one of the nearby dwellings, Rob came walking out with a bashful expression as he covered the front of his loincloth.
“Rob?”
Rob didn’t respond to Chad’s call, so he walked up and tapped Rob on the shoulder.
“Rob? What’s up, bro?” Chad asked, once again feeling his tongue struggle to form that last word.
“...Rob? Are we still playing that game, Chatok?” Rob replied, and looking deep into his eyes Chad saw they had gone completely copper-brown. Ruut’s eyes, not Rob’s.
“G-game? What game?”
“Y’know, the one where we’re grown-ups?” Ruut laughed. “It’s fun to pretend, but now that we’re getting a little older it’s kinda silly, isn’t it?”
Chad bit his lip, worried that Rob was close to completely losing himself to his jungle boy persona. To just flip and think that their entire lives from before had just been some silly fantasy of a child.
“...And what about Martin? Is he okay?” Chad asked, once again getting a blank look from Ruut. It seemed he’d have to play along with the other boy if he wanted to get anything out of him. “...Maa’ti. Is she doing better?”
“Oh, yeah! She’s great! Just a couple little cuts and bruises, and the mam’ya medicine is even starting to fade so she should be up again soon,” Ruut exclaimed cheerfully, with a proud look on his face. “All thanks to me! And the medicine man too, but mostly me. Some of the tribeswomen just took her back to her tent to rest.”
“...Great, glad to hear it,” Chad replied sullenly. He hoped to the goddess that Martin hadn’t completely lost himself yet, even if everyone did seem to think he was a girl for some reason. He and Ruut resumed walking around the village, taking in all the sights and sounds. Hunting dogs rested in the shade of the tents and striped cats stalked between the dwellings in search of a tasty vole or mouse, while men and women were hard at work cooking, hauling wood, chipping arrowheads, and assembling blowgun darts. And, in an open clearing just outside the main village, a group of boys and girls their age were playing some kind of game, trying to keep a bundle of wood and feathers in the air using sticks. Compared to the football Chad was used to playing, it seemed almost absurdly simple, but something about seeing other kids just like him playing and enjoying themselves was mysteriously alluring. But in the back of his head, he knew that running off to play would be like admitting that he truly was just a boy, that he was Chatok the chief’s son.
He felt a soft hand grasp his own, and he looked over to see Ruut’s brown-skinned hand clutching his. “Come on, Chatok! Let’s go play!” he giggled before tugging his friend after him, and something about the other boy’s soft touch made Chad’s heart flutter in the same way that Ruut’s had when he thought about Maa’ti...