Faye had fallen asleep surprisingly quickly, and had slept deeply and peacefully for those few hours that had been left that night. She awoke in a completely new world. It was as if this was the first morning she had truly and completely woken up. Was this what people meant when they said ‘rise and shine’? It was as if a light shone from behind her eyes and brightened the colors of the world, its heat casting everything in a warm and comforting glow.
Breakfast tasted like dessert, her parents seemed strangers speaking a foreign language and her brothers seemed uncharacteristically sane in a world that made no sense. She tried acting normal, and tried not to burst out laughing out loud with the joy of it all, make up a song on the spot, and sing and dance as if her life was a musical.
As the morning smiled upon Faye, her legs took her to Patty’s home, and her fist knocked on the door.
It felt unfair to hide her joy from Patty, instead of letting her share in it. But what could she do? Tell her she was in love, in love, IN LOVE (oh god!) with a lemurian? How could she? How could she ever tell anyone? Who could understand? Man, she felt giddy!
In the classroom she spent her time playing back the scenes from the previous night. Should she look him up again tonight? She knew he’d be at the same old paper mill again. Did she even have a choice? Was there even such a thing as free will when one was in love?
The day went by like a television program playing in the background.
He smelled her, and a tingle went through his whole body. His heart lifted. He heard the stairs at the other end of the basement creak, ever so slightly. She seemed to be trying to sneak up on him. He kept his back turned and continued with the task at hand. He was kneeling down and took dead rats out of the traps with his gloved hands and put them in a burlap bag. He couldn’t help smiling like a fool. He noticed now how her smell had changed, ever so slightly, she smelled somehow riper, more mature. He couldn’t be sure, but he believed this was the smell of a girl in love. His heart pounded.
Then she shone her light on him. She had brought a strong flashlight with her. He didn’t jump. He turned around slowly. “Hello,” she said sweetly. And before he knew what he was doing, his body had straightened, and his legs carried him towards the girl. His gloves dropped on the floor, she dropped her flashlight which rolled away, and she fell into his arms. He buried his face in her hair, her scent was intoxicating. He didn’t know who had started it, but they were kissing. Lips on lips, then their mouths opened, fumbled around a bit, until they locked together, fitting perfectly, and their tongues melted together. He felt his manhood swell, a bit uncomfortably inside his overall—but she didn’t seem to mind, they clung together, holding on for life, sinking in to each other. When they finally resurfaced, it felt as if they had spent an eternity on some distant planet governed by alien laws of physics. Reality felt completely unfamiliar.
“Oh, god!” Faye said, panting, “isn’t this terrible? How can something that feels so right be so wrong. It’s unnatural, isn’t it? I mean you’re a different species, or I am, we both are!”
“Well,” said her lover, surprisingly cool and collected, he thought, after such a hot first kiss, “being unnatural is what sets us apart from animals, what sets mankind apart from the apes and lemurians apart from the lemurs. What are we, if not unnatural?”
And they kissed again, for another eternity. Johnny had never kissed a girl before, neither human nor lemurian. He asked Faye if was always like this, kissing. “No,” she laughed, “it’s never been like this before!”
“Has Pearly told you about this believe lemurians have: truelove?”
“No, I don’t think she did. But I know what true love is. Us humans also fall in love, you know.”
“Yes, but truelove is a lemurian concept, it’s one word,” he said, caressing her face with his hands, “it’s what we call it in English. I don’t know what it was called originally in Lemurian, because I don’t think there’s anybody left that speaks Lemurian. Truelove is part of lemurian religion. I take it you were brought up Christian?”
“No, I wasn’t really. My mother was raised very religious, and she says it has given her nothing but grief.”
“For me all religion is mythology,” Johnny said, “and I like mythology, I like these stories. Lemurians believe that truelove is caused by a future child that needs to be born. The child brings its parents together using truelove. Now, I don’t believe a future child is bringing us together…” he said earnestly. He didn’t want to freak out this girl with talk of children, “…see half-breeds like me are born barren, we can’t procreate, we can’t have children…”
“Good,” said Faye. “I sure can’t use a kid!”
“This is why nobody has ever heard of a half-breed finding truelove. Other lemurians think we half-breed have no purpose, since we can’t have children. I used to believe that when I was little, and it made me feel real bad about myself. So I refused to believe it any longer. I have a purpose, just like anybody else. Having children is just not a part of it. And this pull I feel towards you, from the first moment I saw you and smelled you, it can’t be anything but truelove. I’m sure of it. It feels very real. That whole business about children wanting to be born, that’s all just religion, mythology. Truelove is probably simply a biological response, to do with pheromones and hormones, which is possibly all the more potent among lemurians because of our keen sense of smell. But humans have it as well, they can fall in love at first sight. It's two people sensing they fit perfectly together. The lemurians believe the reason is having children, but there might be other reasons for falling in love... Let me tell you a story,” he said. “I’ll finish my work here while I’ll tell you the story. Sit down over there, try not to step on any dead rats.” He got back to his work, putting his gloves back on and started taking dead rats from sprung traps, and he said, “This is one of my favorite stories, for obvious reasons. It’s not very well known among lemurians. I wish it were. If they were brought up with stories like this then maybe they wouldn’t dislike half-breeds like me so much.”
And when he began, “This is the Legend of the Halfling that Brought Peace…” Faye went all queasy inside—he began his story just like Pearly had said! So cute!
As the tale unfolded she didn’t ask any questions about things she didn’t fully understand, his voice mesmerized her.
“…It stormed on the endless sea, and a ship was broken in two by the raging waves. It carried humans and the sea swallowed all, all but a lone child, a human baby boy, not a year old. The baby was cast onto a beach, and it cried, and it cried, tears as salty as the sea that had spat him out. The boy cried all day, and cried still when the stars came out at night. They looked down upon the lone child.
“One of the stars came down from the sky and when it reached the baby, it was a glowing ball of light as large as a man’s head. It soothed the child, and implored it to save its strength and its tears. It spoke to the child using not words, yet the child understood the star. And the star kept the baby company through the night, and through the day, too, for in the light of day the stars can’t be seen, but still they are there. And the star hummed comfortingly to the child, humming lullabies which the First Mother had taught it.
“And the human babe grew hungry and thirsty, and it grew weak, but the star could do naught for it, for stars have no body, they are but a ball of light. It could do naught but sooth the child, and tell it not to cry, tell it to save his strength.
“Then on the third day the star beseeched the child to cry, cry out as loud as it could, with all its might, and this the child did gladly and passionately, for it was very distraught and it did fear death.”
“And just within earshot a lemurian woman passed. First she thought the crying to be some seagull, and paid it no mind, but the baby in her belly, for she was pregnant, kicked and turned at the sound—and lemurians do heed their children, so she went to investigate the sound. And as she got closer, she wondered: what manner of babe wails like that? For it sounded like no wailing she had ever heard. And her baby kicked again, and the mother made haste.
“When she spied the lone baby on the beach, she was astounded. It was a strange babe to be sure, but had she not seen a child like this in her dreams? Had she not seen her own child grow up with a smooth-skinned, small-eyed creature such as this? She had, and she praised the Great Current, and she fed the baby milk from her breast.”
“The lemurian woman took the human baby back to her village, where the Judge would rule on the matter. The Judge was fascinated by the smooth-skinned baby, never had he seen its like, nor had the other villagers, who gathered round. None had ever seen its like, none but the oldest among the lemurians, who had fought long ago in the Days of the Warring Clans. And this old man told his fellows that these smoothskins were a cruel species and the baby would bring ruin to their village. It should be sent to the desert to die, so spoke the old man.
“And the Judge told the pregnant woman she was to take the human baby out to the desert, and leave it there. And the woman spoke to the judge of her dream, and the Judge considered the dream.
“The Judge asked of her: Had the woman seen her own lemurian child grow up with the human child here in their village? No, she had not. The dream had shown them to be in the woods, alone, she said, only the two of them, not even she herself had been with them.
“So the Judge ruled: the lemurian woman was to take the human baby boy out of the village, and follow the path the Great Current had set out for them.”
“Tragedy struck when the pregnant woman made her way through the woods carrying the human child. A fossa thought to make a meal of the smooth-skinned baby. The fossa fell upon them from a tree and the woman fought with all her might, and with a large stone she did struck the vicious fossa on the head, again and again. And the fossa died. But the lemurian woman was mauled by the fossa’s sharp claws, and bitten by its fearsome teeth, and she bled much from deep wounds, and she too, died. And the baby boy was alone again, and it cried out, and the star heeded his call.
“The star guided the child and showed it how to take the fossa by the paw, and use its claws to cut open the woman’s belly. And out came a small lemurian baby girl.
“And the star told the boy to take from the blood of the fossa, and put it in his mouth, and put it in the mouth of the newborn as well, for the Great Current takes care of those that drink of the blood of the fossa.”
“And with the guidance of the star, the two children did survive, and did grow up. And the star left them again when they could take care of themselves, and the boy learned to love the girl, and the girl the boy, and as they matured, the man loved the woman, and the woman the man. They were happy together in the woods, and never did they meet another, not human nor lemurian.”
You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.
“Then one day the star returned. This time it came to the man in a dream, and it spoke to him with words. And the lemurian woman that slept by his side had the exact same dream. In it the star showed them a great mountain, with snow on its distant peak, and it pointed them the way to the mountain, and it told them that this was where they were to make their home, and here a child would be born to them.”
“And they travelled for a long time, and when they came to the foot of the mountain, they saw villages and there lived many lemurians.
“ ‘Look,’ said the human man, as they remained cautiously hidden from these new people ‘should we introduce ourselves? They are just like us,’ he said, for he had only ever seen his lemurian wife and none else.
“But his lemurian wife didn’t like what she saw, and said, ‘They aren’t like us, look at all that fur, and those big eyes, how strange they look,’ for she had only ever seen her human man who had smooth skin and small eyes.
“The man said, ‘No, they look very beautiful,’ and they didn’t understand each other. The man thought they should approach these new people. Perhaps they could live in one of these villages and raise their child there. The woman was fearful, and stayed behind her man when he introduced himself to the lemurians.
“The lemurian folk said, ‘Behold! One of our enemies!’ And they threw rocks at the man, and aimed to whack him to death with sticks, and the lemurian wife tried protecting her man, and the folk said, ‘If she is a friend of our enemy, she too is our enemy, and will meet the same fate.’
“And the human man and the lemurian woman fled and they were chased up the mountain, where they hid from their pursuers, who then descended the mountain again.”
“So the man and woman decided to make their home on the mountain, but it didn’t take long for them to meet other folk, who already lived there. They, too, had been chased up the mountain by the lemurians, long ago, during the Days of the Warring Clans.
“And the lemurian woman said, ‘Look, they are like us, so beautiful are they. Surely they will welcome us into their midst,’ for they were humans, and she had grown up seeing only her man, whom she did love very much.
“But the human man didn’t trust these smooth-skinned folk, with their small eyes, for they looked so strange to his eyes, which had never before seen another human.
“The woman insisted, and she walked up to these new folk. They threw rocks at her, and said she was their enemy. When they saw the human man, he too was pelted with rocks, for bringing the enemy into their midst.
“And the man and woman fled again, and were chased down the mountain.”
“They kept themselves hidden, and lived in between the two communities, sometimes venturing up the mountain to hunt, sometimes venturing down to pick fruit and nuts.
“And they saw how for half a year at the foot of the mountain it was hot and dry, and life for the lemurians was harsh, and the elderly and the weak would often die, while higher up at that time of the year the trees bore fruit and the hunting was good and the humans had food aplenty.
“And they saw how the other half of the year life on the mountain was cold, dry and windy, and life for the humans was harsh, while at the foot of the mountain the lemurians brought in the harvest, and made merry.
“The man and woman wondered why these two peoples hated each other so? Why didn’t they share in their wealth? Was it only because one looked so different from the other?”
“And that night the human man and his lemurian woman shared the same dream again. They dreamt a child was born to them, and lo! the boy looked like both peoples, merging features of the folks with fur and large eyes, and the smoothskins with small eyes.
“And the dream showed them how the boy grew, and how, despite the love of his parents, at times the boy felt lonesome. They saw how he would venture out behind his parents’ backs, and on the mountain he would play with children of the smoothskin folk, and down at the foot of the mountain he played with the children with fur.
“The boy grew up, and his friends of both peoples grew up.
“And sometimes the boy would take his friends with fur up the mountain, and when they encountered smoothskins, they weren’t frightened, nor did they hate them, for in them they saw their friend.
“And the boy spoke to the smoothskins, and said, ‘These are my friends, welcome them!’
“And the smoothskins said, ‘Our friend’s friend are our friends, too.’
“And as they dreamt, the human man and the lemurian woman had marveled at the boy’s voice, for they knew this voice, it had been the voice of the star that had guided them.
“And the boy took his smooth-skinned friends down the mountain, and said to the lemurians there, ‘These are my friends, welcome them!’
“And the lemurians were glad to have these new friends that looked so much like the boy they had known and loved for years.
“And when the boy was born, the human man and lemurian woman looked at him with wonder. He looked like both his father and mother, and they knew this boy would bring peace between the two peoples.
“So goes the Legend of the Halfling that brought Peace!”
Faye and Johnny walked the empty streets of the nighttime town.
“As much as I’m enjoying myself,” Johnny said, “and as much as I’m enjoying you, shouldn’t you be getting home and get a few more hours of sleep than you did last night?”
“Why? I’ve never felt better! Imagine how great I’ll feel when I don’t sleep at all!” Faye said. She had in fact noticed her body was getting quite tired, but didn’t care. She didn’t think she’d been this happy since she was child and didn’t know anything about anything. She had always envied Patty, who was born cheerful. God, if she could feel like this every day, forever…
“Should we talk about where we go from here?” Johnny asked very seriously. “How can we ever make this work? The world won’t accept us being a couple. We can’t keep this a secret forever.”
“I don’t want to think about it,” Faye said. Why ruin a perfectly perfect night? “Tell me another story,” she said, and looking up at the sky, “tell me about the stars. They are the children that will be born in the future?”
“That’s right. They can guide us, and they look down on us and can keep us safe. It’s practically the opposite of the believes of many human cultures through the ages, who would pray to the ancestors for guidance and thought these watched over them from the other side.”
She loved hearing him talk like that. He seemed to know so much.
“All the stars are the children of the First Mother, which is the sun, and the moon when she sleeps,” Johnny said.
“The First Mother? Tell me of her.”
“Okay…”
“…this is the Legend of The First Mother. First Mother was once a lemur unlike any other lemur. She asked herself questions about the world, about life and what tomorrow would bring. No other lemur had ever asked these questions. First Mother had no words for these questions, for there were no words.
“One day First Mother had a dream. Her Inner Eye showed her how she and the other lemurs were gathering nuts and berries, when a great racket of birds sounded. The lemurs knew this meant there was danger afoot, and they rushed back up into the trees. But in the trees the fossas were waiting for them. There was a great turmoil, and many lemurs were hurt or killed, and many a lemur babe was carried off by the fossas.
“Next day First Mother found herself gathering nuts and berries, when a great racket of birds sounded. Her fellows rushed back up into the trees, when First Mother remembered her dream. She implored her tribe to come down from the trees quick, but it was too late. There was a great turmoil, and many lemurs were hurt or killed, and many a lemur babe was carried off by the ravenous fossas.”
“One day First Mother had another dream. Her Inner Eye showed her how a wind had started to blow through the woods. From the top of a tree First Mother saw great mountains of black clouds bearing down upon them. The clouds rumbled and shook with lightning. A great crack of lightning lighted the woods on fire, and the fire engulfed tree after tree. First Mother’s tribe ran for the river, where they would be safe, but they were too slow, and the fire devoured them all greedily.
“Next day a wind started to blow through the woods. From the top of a tree First Mother saw great mountains of black clouds bearing down on them. This time she screamed and made signs to her fellows, as if to say: danger was afoot, and they should all go to the river for safety. But her fellows didn’t understand, and First Mother couldn’t use words to make them understand, for there were no words.
“And so First Mother’s tribe stayed put in the trees, grasping the tree trunks tightly, waiting for the storm to pass. Only First Mother made way for the river, leaving behind her tribe, driven by her fear of death.
“The blazing fire was so fierce, First Mother had to jump into the river to survive, and the river carried her away. She fought hard not to drown, and the river carried her far, and when she was finally washed into the sea, she struggled to reach the shore.”
“Lying on the sand of the beach, exhausted, she wondered why had she struggled so hard to stay alive? She had nothing left to live for, her tribe was dead, and her forest was burned. The visions of her Inner Eye had given her the chance to save her tribe, but she had failed.
“She was far from home. Left and right she saw trees, and she heard the sounds of the jungle. Here she would find fruit to eat, here she could live till death came for her… but she had decided she no longer wanted to live.
“As she lay on the beach, hungry and thirsty, waiting for death, she had another dream. Her Inner Eye showed her a future where she had children, many children, and they talked to each other with voices, and they called her ‘Mother’, and even though she had never heard the word before, she understood what it meant.
“And First Mother grew hungrier and thirstier, and felt death was nigh. She drifted in and out of sleep, and each time she slept, her Inner Eye showed her the talking children, and she drifted deeper into dream and she saw her children’s children, and their children, countless children, as many as there were stars in the heavens.”
“First Mother was awoken when a piece of fruit dropped in her lap. It was ripe and juicy and smelled so very sweet. She had wanted to die, but she couldn’t resist. She bit into the fruit, and ate it lustily.
“She looked up, wherefrom had the fruit fallen? But she saw naught but the blue sky.
“When another piece dropped in her lap, she looked up again, and saw a great big parrot with a beautiful coat of colored feather. First Mother didn’t want to seem ungrateful, so she ate this fruit as well, and it did taste wondrous.”
“The parrot nursed her back to life. It was the kindest creature First Mother had ever met. And he spoke to her—and his voice sounded like the voices she had heard in her dream, the voices of her children. She didn’t know what the parrot said, but understood they had been destined to meet. The Great Current streamed inevitably forward.
“And the parrot loved her, and First Mother loved the parrot, and their love grew, and her belly swelled. And she birthed a full clutch of eggs, and when the eggs hatched, they brought forth small lemur pups, and when they cried out, they sounded like no lemur had ever sounded.
“The lemurs grew up and they spoke like their father the parrot, and they asked the questions that had long vexed their mother, questions about the world, about life and what tomorrow would bring.”
“First Mother grew to be very old, for it was her love for her children and her children’s children that kept her alive, and she watched over them all.
“And when she finally did die, the old parrot took her Inner Eye in its beak, and flew with it up into the blue of the sky, and he set it there, high up, this life-giving sun, this blazing Eye which would watch forever over her children…
“…And so goes the Legend of The First Mother.”
They said goodbye, under the tree by Faye’s bedroom window, looking into each other’s beautiful eyes. Johnny said they had to find a way to meet during the day, so he could see her deep sea green eyes in all their glory, and drown in them. And Faye wondered out loud how anyone could ever care about human eyes again once they had lost themselves in the sparkling brilliance of lemurian eyes.
They kissed again, one last time. It wasn’t wholly perfect this time around—Faye worried someone might see them. It was still very early in the morning, but dawn was breaking. Nobody was awake at this time, she told herself. But she couldn’t shake the jitters.