Bal's Bane

© 1994

By James Lester

Part 1 of 3 [6 min.]

Bal took another look at The Father's Face before he continued the low chanting of his own longname. He knew there were some men whose longnames were shorter than his. They were poor unfortunates who lived in other Clans. He was proud that it took most of a morning to declare his. And, he always felt such a warmth in his heart as he neared the end of it, because that was when he could see his mother, and her mother, in his longname. He still knew them both, and had learned his own longname as a boy in their laps.

Right now, Bal was especially happy because the task he was performing was long enough to allow for the recital of his complete longname. Those were the good tasks. Other tasks only required recital of parts of his longname.

But, today, he was walking to the Band where his son lived, and he was almost there. It was one longname away in the Forest from the Band where he lived. Soon he should begin to encounter the members of this neighbor Band, and it would be good to grunt his grudging recognition, and receive theirs. There would be plenty of time, later, for tales by the fire.

It was truly rare to encounter anyone with whom one had not already exchanged longnames. It was the major activity of early adulthood to travel to all nearby bands within The Clan and declare one's longname. Small as the bands were, it nevertheless took days to complete the process, and for this reason, travel by the young was restricted to certain Moons of the year. Otherwise, no one would have been able to do anything but longnames day in and day out.

Bal had declared his longname long ago. His son, Gom, had done so only recently. Bal remembered with a momentary rush of pride the first day he watched Gom declaring his longname to those in the Band. He remembered how anxious he was for Gom to travel to Bal's mother's Band and "declare." Mother will be so proud of me, he had thought.

Now, Gom was living in the Band of the woman whose own young children were fathered by Gom, and that was where Bal was going on this beautiful day in the forest. The message had been strange and asked him to hurry.

Another glance at The Father's Face told him that The Father's Love had risen to just the right height above The Mother's Lap. He was coming to the end of his longname and his journey at a propitious time. It was best to be in the shade of The Mother's Trees during the height of The Father's daily Love for The Mother.

And, here is another good sign, Bal thought as he rounded a bend in the path.

Bal slowed his walking as he respectfully skirted a small group of women of the Band with whom Gom now lived. So beautiful! he thought, lowering his head with a smile.

The women acknowledged his passing with a pause in their digging for the precious Roots The Mother had prepared for them. The flash of a smile, the glint of laughing eyes, a suppressed giggle, told Bal they still remembered him from the last meeting of The Clan. It was good to think ahead for a moment to the next meeting only a few Months from now.

Of course, he needn't declare his longname to these women. And, they needn't declare theirs to him. Women never walked about in the Forest alone, so they did not need to tell their longnames; only occasionally the longname of their Band. Women were constantly in the company of their sisters, mothers, mother's sisters, and mother's mothers. And, of course, they were the constant intimates of The Mother.

Because men often traveled singly, they often had to tell their longnames. Bal shuddered involuntarily as he thought, not for the first time, of the terrible prospect of someday meeting a man who had no longname. He had been told such creatures had existed long ago. His mind utterly refused to deal with what it would be like not to have a longname.

Now, with the women out of sight behind him, he prepared himself to recognize the first man he would encounter from this Band.

He hesitated.

Someone was running toward him in the Forest. He could hear the footsteps, the labored breathing, and was alarmed by the sense of dread in these sounds.

Bal stepped behind a Tree in order to observe the approaching person without remaining in the path. He realized from the sound of the breathing that it was a woman. This filled him with consternation. Was she running from something? Women never ran that way unless the Band was being attacked, and that had not happened in recent memory.

The instant the woman burst into view, Bal knew her as the mother of the children Gom had fathered. Bal leaped from behind the Tree and caught Lorn in his arms.

"Where is your danger, Lorn!" he cried as he steadied her.

"Oh, Bal," she gasped, "I'm so glad you've come. It's Gom. I am afraid for him. Come!"

She grasped his hand and pulled him back in the direction from which she had just run.

"Is he hurt?" bal asked as they ran down the path.

Lorn only shook her head and would not look at Bal.

They stopped suddenly as they entered the clearing in which the shelters were erected for Lorn's Band.

Lorn stood still and pointed to one of the shelters near the edge of the clearing. It was neatly constructed, and Bal could tell Gom had had a hand in its making. The children of the Band had withdrawn to the other side of the clearing and were milling around the adults, who were staring fearfully at the shelter Bal was approaching.

Bending to enter the front opening, he straightened as he stepped inside. There on the mat was his son, Gom. But, Bal had never seen him in such a state of abject terror. Gom was bent forward on his knees, clutching a large, square, flat object to his chest as if to keep it from jumping free to attack him. His face was red and strained with the effort. His mouth was wide open, and as soon as he saw bal, a shriek exploded from his lungs.

"Help me, Father they're going to get out!"