It wasn’t always like this. For years our system was unorganized, and we weren’t aware of each other. For a while, that was scary for the Tribe. We knew we weren’t alone, but we didn’t know what that meant. Miss Marple helped us to put our ducks in a row. From then on we functioned better within ourselves and with outside people.
For us the main difference is that through the trauma, our personality—who we are—has been sliced open, leaving a deep gash. Through it, we gain insights into all parts. The better we understand these aspects, the greater is our self-awareness. We are lining up horizontally like Russian dolls, all separate bits but stuck together we make one whole. For us, it’s important to understand what’s going on for all our parts or our day turns to custard. We can’t afford to look the other way.
I don’t slip into the body and interact with outside people. That’s not what I’m here for. I’m always there in the background, like the heartbeat that never stops. My job is … it’s difficult to explain. Perhaps the easiest way is to see our system as a beehive. Each of us has a cell we live in. Each cell has a different memory, different task, and different ways of interacting with the outside world. I am the wax that holds the cells together, like the scaffolding that the individual parts of the Tribe depend on.
Lilly describes me as the part that is the soul and holds the moral compass for our system. It could be true. I’ve never seen it like that. I always assumed I could reflect on the right or wrong ways of doing things because I’m not bogged down with everyday operating stuff. I’m aware of what happened but I can’t access the sensations or emotions of memories. In that way, I’m the observer, like the umpire at a tennis match, making sure things don’t get out of hand yet never playing myself. That’s me: always thinking, always reflecting, always trying to make sense.
This morning Elise joins me in my corner of the common room. She looks more rested and less stressed since Scott appears to improve. But I can tell she’s worried about something.
“I don’t trust the police to find the arsonists or the burglars. We should call a team meeting to decide what to do. Until they discharge Scott, we should do something to get more clarity about what is going on? I hate him leaving the hospital and we are none the wiser!”
I like this girl … well, she’s a grown woman. From someone who didn’t want to accept the Tribe, even refused to believe in it, Elise came a long way trusting that together we can solve our problems. She and Lilly have become our front person to the outside world and both are doing a stellar job.
“I agree. With Scott on the mend, the chaos in the tree house is reducing back to normal disorder. That should give us space to think and plan.”
I sound more optimistic than I am. All the thinking in the last few weeks didn’t bring us any closer to understanding what it is we are fighting. Is there even an enemy out there who is planning out downfall or is it all in our heads?
“I don’t believe it’s in our heads. When Amadeus fought the intruders a few nights ago…those were real people, real scumbags out to harm. I got a hell of a fright when I saw him lashing into them. At one point it looked like he’d strangle this guy who called him a woman. It frightens me when he appears to lose all control.”
In those moments he frightens everyone, including the kids. The slightest sign of anger alarms the Tribe because in our childhood we’ve seen countless examples of adults unable to control themselves, turning anger into violence and harming us and others.
“He has his reasons. I trust him to know what he’s doing, even if it looks strange to us. It’s in his nature to fight. We are not good at expressing anger, thus fighting looks bewildering to you and me.”
I can tell Elise is still ill at ease. Having existed outside of the Tribe for decades puts her at a disadvantage. She hasn’t seen Amadeus when we were younger when he had to bottle up his anger and take what they dished out to us. He took a lot of the abuse in silence because we were too little and our body wasn’t strong enough to fight back.
“There is more to it, isn’t there?” She rubs her chin and looks at me.
“He is excellent at picking up signs of danger the rest of us are oblivious to.”
“When Tom and I talked to the guy at the petrol station, I thought he’d lied to us. You should have seen how he glared at Tom. I bet he remembered to whom he sold several canisters of petrol, I’m sure about it.”
We’ve talked about it at length and didn’t get anywhere with it. It’s the same with the people from the Department of Conservation. DOC is adamant nobody worked in our valley on the day of the fire. The guys in the truck Lilly and Tom met on the way to Scott’s must have been the arsonists. But they vanished as if the earth had swallowed them.
“I’m tired of running in circles. No matter how hard I try, I can’t get my head around what people want from us.”
“Don’t give up, Elise. Perhaps we are trying too hard. We should let things settle, but not give up.” I’m not sure even I believe what I’m saying.
“It’s too dangerous to let it go.” Lilly has joined us. “There must be an explanation of why people snoop around our house now. Why now? It stood empty for over thirty years. It would have been easy to search every square inch of the place three times over.”
“You are
