CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE #3
Questioning eyes waited for me to continue.
“Because of those things, I grew up with the belief that life was all up to me. That, if I wanted anything in life, I could only count on myself because everyone I was supposed to rely on…left. But being here with you all these past few weeks have shown me that what I believed was wrong.”
With Jahnu’s eyes on me, I was compelled to offer a piece of wisdom to the listening children.
“What you have here, in your tribe, is very special—maybe without realizing yet…because you’re young. What you have is something many people want…but they may not even know it.”
“What do we have?” Sotee asked, with sincerity.
I looked into Jahnu’s quizzical expression while the words found my lips, “You have each other.”
Jahnu dismissed the children. They ran off with the usual chatter, charged with thinking through their own personal, defining moments and the resulting responses. We remained, comfortable together sitting on the rickety box.
“Are you sure you were never a teacher?” Jahnu asked.
I laughed out loud. “Never. I don’t usually even talk to children unless they are one of my patients. They are too perceptive, and nosey. But I like these kids.”
“You are natural with them. They like you.”
“I’m a novelty,” I shrugged. “Kids always like new things…but what about you?” I nudged him with my shoulder.
He picked up the old book. I saw the title now, Man’s Search for Meaning, by Victor Frankil. The letters were faded, the spine of the book cracked and peeled away.
“When I went to school I was an angry, prideful young man. When I returned, I came away with a broader knowledge of how the world works and my place in it. My father, too, was a good teacher. He always said it is better to teach children how to think, than what to think. I believe it is true.”
We were quiet for a time, neither of us in a hurry to leave each other’s company. The air around us filled with all the unspoken words that filtered through our thoughts, forming a giant elephant in the portico.
When I could take the silence no longer, I spoke right as Jahnu began to speak, talking over one another.
“No, no, you speak,” he encouraged. He stood and leaned against one of the roof bearing beams. With folded arms across his bare chest, Jahnu crossed one leg over the other, and gave me his undivided attention.
He was so utterly confident in his demeanor, so unashamedly at rest in his own skin. It drew me to him in a way that completely contradicted the words I was about to speak—because I knew they would drive a wedge between us.
“Did you know I’ve been here for over a month?”
His eyes flashed for the briefest second, but was the only indication of his discomfort with the direction of the conversation.
“I haven’t said anything because…well, because honestly, I lost track of time. I’ve grown to enjoy being here with your Hundi. I’ve…I’ve enjoyed our time together, too…” I admitted, timidly, “but—”
“But,” he cut me off, his tone of voice betraying the outwardly cool demeanor.
“Yes, but,” I said sharply, aggravated at my own contrary desires. “I have a life in America, Jahnu. A job…relationships,” I exhaled with a long breath—frustrated, “but I can’t get back to that until I get back to Makia, and now I feel responsible to try and convince them to stop the fighting.
“I’ve come to care for the Hundi people and I don’t understand the conflict between the tribes—isn’t there something that can be done?
I can’t leave knowing things are still unsettled or if there’s going to be a war.
I…I couldn’t bear the thought of losing…
of anyone else dying. If you would just call off the attacks, there could be peace again and you—”
Jahnu interrupted, “You are right. You do not understand, and it is not your responsibility.” He shoved off the beam to leave, but I followed, needing to finish this important conversation.
“The fire caused much loss for the tribe, but Makia didn’t start it on purpose. You’re on the brink of a war because of an accident, and now Makian’s have also died. I don’t know who’s right in all this—but I do know the Makia don’t want a war!”
“You know nothing,” Jahnu said firmly, turning to face me.
With more pain than anger, he said, “You talk as if your choices begin and end in one line. If you do this, then this will happen. You do not know, Sid-de-nee. We talk in circles! Every choice someone makes affects others, but you cannot control what happens. You cannot control people. You cannot do things to get the outcome you want.”
I was taken aback with his line of thought. It wasn’t the first time I’d been accused of trying to control situations or people. I knew it was my weakness and hated that he’d seen it in just the short amount of time we’d spent together. I wanted to argue.
“Maybe not…” I said slowly, “but we can control ourselves, our reactions, our emotions, just like you taught the children. The last of the human freedoms is to choose one’s attitude and response to the things that happen and when other people do things we don’t like, we can stay in control, instead of acting rashly and starting a war! ”
“And you do this so well?” He reached his hand to cup my face, but the action felt condescending mixed with his words, so I jerked away, rejecting his correction.
He sighed heavily. “Sid-de-nee, you come from a different world. A world where you do not have to fight for what you want. You want somet’ing and you get it right a-way.
” He gestured dramatically in the air. “You do not have to wait, and when you do wait, you check the dead watch on your wrist!” His voice rose in intensity, twinged with bit of disgust.
“You think there is control because your world makes you think it. But it controls you. It keeps you coiled tight like a python ready to strike, because you grasp for it from fear. That is not peace. Peace is desirable, yes. But peace with others at the cost of one’s peace inside is not peace.
It is surrender—a slow death from within.
We must stand up for what we believe or it will be taken from us by someone louder and stronger.
Fighting makes us hold our life lightly, knowing the moment we try to grasp control is the moment we lose it. ”
I was momentarily at a loss for words. He’d interpreted me exactly, and the usual feeling of being exposed and known by someone even more thoroughly than I knew myself, left me wanting to poke holes in his argument.
“Are you not trying to maintain control by keeping me here?” I’d seen his weakness, too, and I wanted him to know it. “A problem won’t just go away if you pretend it isn’t there, Jahnu. Whether you like it or not, you have to face this…you…you have to face me!”
“I do not want to face you!” He turned back to me growling through clenched teeth.
“Every time I do, I am faced with another impossible task, because when I face you, all I want to do is pull you close,” his fingers brushed my cheek.
“But every time I pull you close, I know it will be that much harder to push you away when I must say goodbye.”
My eyes pricked with tears at his admission.
“You say you have enjoyed our time together. For me, it has been torture—a sweet torture,” his lips quivered, and as he reached to wipe the tears that slid down my cheeks.
“But still, a torture, because you are not mine. I know you must return to your people. But I am a selfish fool, because all I want to do is keep you here with me, and I am sorry I have done so for too long.”
I didn’t realize what was happening until I found my lips pressed to his.
The softness of them left my skin tingling.
I had leaned forward. I had risen on my toes to close the small gap between us, and this time, I had been the one to kiss him, to taste the sweetness of his words as they fell from his lips.
Torture was right—how could I want to leave this man, this place, these people?
My heart was so completely won over that the very thought of leaving caused my chest to tighten on the verge of a sob.
What was happening to me? I had fallen in love…with a man…with a people group…with a way of life, but none of it was mine, and I knew I would have to let it go.
Jahnu broke our kiss and placed a hand on each of my shoulders. Through closed eyes he said, “I will send messengers to Makia…to let them know you are here,” he opened his eyes to fine mine.
My eyes brimmed with unshed tears. His face only a blurred image.
“It will be a few days,” Jahnu said.
I nodded briefly, my chin quivering with restrained emotion as he turned from me and walked away.
I remained in the yard…alone, yet again.