Cloud Atlas

Mis’ry ’n’ barrassment are hungersome for blame, an’ what I blamed for losin’ Roses was the dammit Prescient. That mornin’ on Moon’s Nest I got up an’ hollered my goats an’ droved ’em to Thumb Pasture without even sayin’ good-bye to Meronym. She’d got ’nuff Smart to leave me be, mem’ry she’d got a son o’ her own back on Prescience I.

When I got home that evenin’, Ma ’n’ Sussy ’n’ Jonas was sittin’ round. They seen my nose an’ looked slywise at each other. What happened to your conker there, bro? Jonas asked, all la-di- da. This? Oh, I slipped ’n’ schnockoed it on Moon’s Nest, I telled him quicksharp.

Sussy sort o’ snigged. You don’t mean you schnockoed it on Roses’s Nest there, bro Zachry? an’ all three of ’em cackled like a danglin’ o’ screech bats an’ I redded diresome ’n’ steamin’. Sissy telled me she’d got the yibber off Roses’s cuz Wolt, what’d telled Bejesus, what’d met Sissy, but I wasn’t really list’nin’, nay, I was cussin’ Meronym to Old Georgie, an’ I din’t stop, an’ it’s a bless she weren’t at Bailey’s that night, nay, she was learnin’ loomin’ at Aunt Bees’s.

So down I went to the ocean an’ watched Lady Moon to cool my fiery mis’ry. A greenbill came draggin’ itself up the beach to lay eggs I mem’ry, an’ I nearly spikered the turtle there ’n’ then out o’ spite, see, if my life weren’t fair why should an animal’s be? But I seen its eyes, so ancient was its eyes they seen the future, yay’ an’ I let the turtle go. Gubboh ’n’ Kobbery came troopin’ with their boards an’ started surfin’ in the starry water, a whoah beautsome surfer was Kobbery, an’ they called me to join ’em but I weren’t in no surfin’ mood, nay, I’d got more soberin’ bis’ness to push at with Abbess at the school’ry. So there I went an’ spoke my worryin’s for a long beat.

Abbess she list’ned, but she din’t b’lief me none, nay, she thinked I was jus’ wrigglyin’ out o’ hostin’ Meronym. You seen the Ship, an’ you seen their ironware, an’ you seen the bit o’ the Smart they’ll show us. If Prescients was plannin’ on invadin’ Nine Valleys, d’you truesome reck’n we’d be sittin’ here discussin’ it? Bring me ev’dence Meronym’s plannin’ to murder us all in our beds, I’ll summon a gath’rin’. If you ain’t got ev’dence, well, hold your counsel. Makin’ ’cusations ’gainst a spesh guest, it jus’ ain’t politesome, Zachry, an’ your pa’d not o’ been pleased.

Our Abbess never stamped her say-sos on no un, but you knew when the discussin’ was over. That was it, then, I was on my own, yay. Zachry ’gainst the Prescients.

Days rose ’n’ fell an’ summer hotted up green ’n’ foamy. I watched Meronym wormy her way round all the Valleys, meetin’ folk an’ learnin’ how we lived, what we owned, how many of us could fight, an’ mappin’ passes into the Valleys thru the Kohalas. One or two o’ the older ’n’ cunninger men, I tried to suss out if they’d got any doubts or anxin’s ’bout the Prescient, but when I said invade or attack they looked shocked ’n’ s’prised spikers at me ’n’ my accusin’s so I got shamed an’ I shut up, see, I din’t want yibber smearin’ me. I should fake a bit o’ manners to Meronym so she may get lazy an’ let her friendsome mask slip a littl’ an’ show me her true plannin’s b’hind that mask, yay, give me some ev’dence I could show to Abbess an’ summon a gath’rin’.

I din’t have no choice to wait ’n’ see. Meronym was truesome pop’lar. Women ’fessed stuff to her ’cos she was an outsider an’ she’d not tell Old Ma Yibber no secrets. Abbess asked our guest to teach numbers at the school’ry an’ Meronym said yay. Catkin said she was a good teacher but din’t teach ’em nothin’ b’yonder Abbess’s own Smart tho’ Catkin knowed she could o’ done if she’d o’ wanted. Some schoolers even started inkin’ their faces blacker to look like a Prescient, but Meronym telled ’em to clean up or she’d not teach ’em nothin’, ’cos Smart ’n’ Civ’lize ain’t nothin’ to do with the color o’ the skin, nay.

Now one evenin’ on our v’randa, Meronym was questionin’ ’bout icons. Is icons a home for the soul? Or a common mem’ry o’ faces ’n’ kin ’n’ age ’n’ all? Or a prayer to Sonmi? Or a tombstone wrote in this-life with messages for next-life? See it was always whys ’n’ whats with Prescients, it weren’t never ’nuff sumthin’ just was an’ leave it be. Duophysite was the same here on Maui, nay? Unc’ Bees was tryin’ to answer but foggin’ out, he ’fessed he knowed ’zactly what icons is until the beat he’d to explain ’em. The Icon’ry, Aunt Bees said, held Valleysmen’s past an’ present all t’gether. Now it didn’t often happ’n I could read anyun’s thinkin’s, but that beat I seen the Shipwoman wond’rin’, Oho, then this Icon’ry I got to go visit it, yay. Nay, I din’t say nothin’, but the f’llowin’ sunup I strolled down to Bony Shore an’ hid up on Sooside Rock. See, I reck’ned if I could catch the offlander bein’ dis-’spectful to our icons or better still cockaroachin’ one, I could pit the older Valleysmen ’gainst her, an’ so wise up my people ’n’ kin to the Prescient’s truesome plannin’s ’n’ all.

So I sat ’n’ waited on Sooside Rock, thinkin’ o’ the folks Georgie’d pushed off o’ there into the gnashin’ foamin’ b’low. Windy mornin’ it was, yay, I mem’ry well, sand ’n’ dune grass whippin’ an’ bloodflower bushes threshin’ an’ surf flyin’ off scuddin’ breakers. I ate some fungusdo’ what I’d bringed for brekker, but b’fore I’d finished who do I spy trompin’ ’long to the Icon’ry but Meronym, yay, an’ Napes of Inouye. Clusterin ’n’ talkin’ thick as thiefs! Oh, my thinkin’ giddyupped now! Was Napes settin’ himself up as the offlander’s right arm? S’pose he was plannin’ on replacin’ Abbess as chief o’ Nine Valleys once the Prescients’d run us all over the Kohalas an’ into the sea with their snaky judasin’ Smart?

Now Napes’d got the charm he had, yay, ev’ryun loved him, his jokey yarnin’s ’n’ smile ’n’ all. If I got the goat tongue, well, Napes’d sort o’ got the people tongue. You can’t go trustin’ folks what lassoop words so skillsome as him. Into the Icon’ry Napes ’n’ Meronym went, bold as a pair o’ cockadoodlies. The dog Py waited outside where Meronym told him.

Quiet as breezes I crept in after ’em. Napes’d ’ready jammed the door open for seein’-light an’ so it din’t squeak none when I tippied in b’hind ’em. From the dim ’n’ shadowy shelfs what the oldest icons was kept on I heard Napes murmin’. Plans ’n’ conspiries, I jus’ knowed it! I crept nearer to hear what I’d hear.

But Napes was braggin’ ’bout his gran’pa’s pa named Truman, yay, the self-same Truman Third what still walks thru stories on Big I an’ here on Maui too. Well, if you young uns don’t know the story o’ Truman Napes time you did, so sit still, be patient an’ pass me the dammit weed.

Truman Napes was a scavver back when Old-Un gear was still junkifyin’ in craters here ’n’ there. One mornin’ an idea rooted in his mind what said the Old Uns may o’ stashed presh gear up on Mauna Kea for safekeepin’. This idea growed ’n’ growed till by evenin’ Truman’d settled to climb that scaresome mountain an’ see what he’d see, yay, an’ leave the very next day. His wife telled him, You’re crazy, there ain’t nothin’ on Mauna Kea but Old Georgie an’ his temples hid in his ’closure walls. He’ll not let you in unless you’re ’ready died an’ your soul is his. Truman jus’ said, Go to sleep, you crazy old bint, there ain’t no truth in them crookit supe’stitions, so he sleeps ’n’ wakes an’ thru the crack o’ dawn up Waipio Valley off he stomps.

Brave Truman trekked ’n’ climbed for three solid days an’ had varyin’ adventurin’s what I ain’t time to tell you now, but he s’vived ’em all till he was up that feary ’n’ ghostsome summit in the clouds what you can see from anywhere on Big I an’ so high up he cudn’t see the world b’low. Ashy it was, yay, no speck o’ green an’ a mil’yun winds tore here ’n’ there like rabies’ dingos. Now Truman’s steps was stopped by a wondersome ironstone wall, higher ’n redwoods, what circled the hole peak for miles ’n’ miles. Truman walked daylong round it searchin’ for a breach, ’cos there wasn’t no scalin’ it nor diggin’ under, but guess what he finded in the hour b’fore dark? A man o’ Hawi, yay, hooded tight ’gainst the wind, cross-leggin’ behind a rock an’ smokin’ a pipe. The Hawi was a scavver too up on Mauna Kea for the selfsame reason o’ Truman, can you b’lieve it? So lornsome was that place, Truman an’ the man o’ Hawi settled to team-up ’n’ divvy any gear what they finded t’gether, fifty-fifty.

Well, Truman’s luck changed the very next beat, yay. Them thick’nin’ clouds got watery ’n’ thin an’ that archin’ steely gate in the ’closure wall shook free an’ groaned thundersome an’ budged open all o’ itself. Thru that gate, Smart or magic Truman din’t know, our hero spied a cluster o’ eeriesome temples, jus’ like the old yarns say there was, but Truman din’t get feary, nay, he got joocey thinkin’ ’bout all the presh Old-Un gear ’n’ makin’s what must be inside ’em. He slapped the Hawi Man’s back, sayin’, Yo ho ho, we’re richer ’n kings ’n’ senators b’fore the Fall, Bro Hawi! Tho’ if Truman Napes was like his great-gran’son, he was prob’ly plottin’ how to keep that scavved loot all for himself.

But that Hawi Man weren’t smilesome, nay, he speaked grim from under his hood. Bro Valleysman, my sleepin’ hour is come at last.

Truman Napes din’t und’stand. It ain’t sundown yet, what’s your meanin’? I ain’t so sleepy so why are you now?