The Ceremony

 

When Drindl located a digging tool, Fallon leaned close to Alpen. “You’re a good warrior. You are an even better teacher. This kid’s tough and he’s smart.”

“Who do you think warned me about Sarten? Stay alert, stay alive, I told him.” Alpen reached into the playpen, took some fish out and handed it to Bebe. Taking a bite of the fish, he said, “I miss Ibik meat.”

Fallon nodded, but enjoyed the slightly salty taste of the fish. He looked to Alithea and some wordless conversation passed between them. Alithea motioned toward Bebe in deference to her greater loss and her position within the tribe. The sun was low in the sky and they needed to bury the babes before the night sky took their souls on the long journey to Paradise.

Turning to Bebe, Fallon said, “You are the tribe’s historian. You know the stories. Can you say the words to send our babes on their journey?”

She looked relieved and took Alpen’s hand. Fallon tied a bit of cloth around their intertwined hands. It was not the ceremonial cloth, but it would have to do. Alithea reached into the playpen and gathered each tiny body into her palm, then placed them into the joined hands of Bebe and Alpen.

“We give you our babes,” Bebe said to the ancestors of the People. “We wanted to spend more time with them on this earth, but they are coming to live with you. Take care of them, love them and show them the wonders of Paradise. Tell them that we loved them and that we will join you later.”

Alpen gave the response. “The sky below the earth, souls rooted in the sky; the earth below the sun, our souls were meant to fly; our love rise up above our cries; we send you there to Paradise.”

Drindl stepped aside to let Alpen and Bebe kneel and place the young babes in the grave. Bebe stood up, then turned to Drindl and hugged him. She tried to say something, but her throat closed with emotion. Drindl put his arms around Bebe and the others joined in the hug.