Atu rested on the mountainside. He was tired and hot and the bleeding wound in his side was throbbing with pain. Blood also rushed from his head where he’d been caught earlier with a throwing stick. As he caught his breath he scanned the view from his perch. It was mid-afternoon and the sky was overcast. Humidity hung in the suffocating air like honey dripping down a glass surface. The edge of the jungle was approximately 500 yards below him marking the end of the rich, black soil on which he now reclined. Soon he began to hear the sounds of a large group moving toward the edge of the jungle from within. That would be the hunting party that was pursuing him. If he wanted to survive, he must skirt the mountain and vanish into the jungle on the other side. It would mean total banishment from the tribe but this was infinitely preferable to the alternative.
He never thought that he would find himself a criminal, much less one with a death sentence on his head. He had always been a respected, productive member of the tribe. It was only the love of his child that had put him in his current situation. He had grown up, learned to hunt and fight for the tribe and had married as a young man. He loved his wife, Mari, and with her had 3 sons. When the youngest son was about six months old, it became obvious that something was wrong with him. He never cried and ate little. By the age of three he still had not been able to walk and spent most of his time sitting, rocking back and forth, and shaking his head. He could be a sweet child, but he clearly was not developing normally. Atu and Mari had taken the child, Punay, to the tribal shaman to see what could be done. The shaman performed several rituals over the next few weeks, but nothing seemed to help.
Several days later, the Chief arrived at Atu’s hut to talk. He had come about Punay and they settled into a conversation about the boy and his troubles. Eventually the Chief told Atu that given Punay’s condition and according to tribal law the child must be put to death. He was to bring the boy to the elder house the next morning and the Chief and the Shaman would see to the task.
Atu was beside himself. He told Mari what the Chief had said and she became hysterical. Despite Punay’s problems both Atu and Mari loved the boy completely and neither of them could bear the thought of their young son being murdered simply to satisfy tribal tradition. After getting Mari to sleep Atu sat and contemplated his son’s fate and his own. After great thought he decided that would not allow his son to be killed.
The next morning Atu awakened Mari earlier than usual. He instructed her to take the boy to a neighboring village where they had friends and ask the people there to hide them. After she left, Atu went to the elder house to confront the Chief and the Shaman. As he entered the house, he saw the Chief at the far end, sitting on the other side of a fire with the Shaman at his side. They both wore their formal headdresses and other paraphernalia that marked their elevated stations in the tribe. Atu walked toward the Chief, stopping just before the fire.
“Where is your son Atu?” asked the Chief
“I did not bring him.” said Atu
“Why not?” asked the Chief, his eyes narrowing
“I came to beg for his life.” answered Atu
“He HAS no life. He’ll never have a life. He is not whole.” said the Shaman
“He has a life. It may be a different life than you or I, but it is still life.” replied Atu
“Enough!” yelled the Chief, standing and moving around the fire toward Atu
“Your son cannot be a warrior or a hunter. He has no place in the tribe. He is of no use. Now bring him to us or we will go to your hut to get him!” bellowed the Chief
Atu realized that there was no way to convince them. They simply could not see that Punay was a human being with value beyond that of just being a tribal member. Without thinking he pulled his knife, turned, and stabbed the Chief, sinking his knife into the man’s belly and twisting it. The Shaman, taken by surprise, recovered and came around the fire toward him. Atu pulled his knife from the Chief and threw it at the Shaman, striking the man in the throat and taking him down immediately. Atu threw the Chief onto the fire, walked the Shaman and pulled his knife from the man’s throat, causing blood to spurt out with a gurgling sound. Atu knew that the tribe would not tolerate his actions and so he fled to the jungle and toward the mountain.
He was roused by sounds from the tree line as the hunting party broke through to the black soil. Atu got up and resumed running up and across the mountain. He was making pretty good time, but he was tiring with the blood loss and felt himself slowing down. This was not good. He decided to change direction and head toward the top of the mountain which was an active volcano. He knew that the heat and sulphuric stench would increase as he moved upward and hoped that it might discourage the hunters below.
He was about halfway to the top when another spear struck him in the leg, tearing into the muscle and bringing him to the ground. He removed the spear and was able to get back on his feet, limping uphill in desperation. It was not long before they caught up to him and he was hit again with another throwing stick, knocking him senseless.
As he came around he realized that he was surrounded by the hunters. These were men he had known all of his life. He had lived with them, hunted with them, and fought with them. They were his brothers.
“Atu! What have you done?” asked Mapute “Why have you killed the Chief and the Shaman?”
“I had to kill them to protect my son!” replied Atu
“What son? The little one who is not human?” asked Mapute
“He IS human!” said Atu
“That is not a human Atu. I’m sorry, but he is not. You killed to save HIM?!?”
“Yes” said Atu “And I would kill again if I needed to”
“Yes I know.” said Mapute “but I’m sorry my brother, it is you who must die now.”
As the hunters closed in a circle with spears raised, Atu had a thought.
“Wait” he said “if you are going to kill me, let me die with honor. Let me climb to the top and enter the great fire so that I can join our fathers beyond”
The hunters gathered and discussed this. After a few minutes, Atu had his answer.
“Atu, if you want to die this way, then yes, climb to the top.” said Mapute “But do not try to run again or when we catch you we will make your death very slow and very painful. Do you agree?” he asked
Atu nodded in agreement and rose to his feet. As he climbed to the top of the mountain he thought about his wife and their sons, hoping that they would have good lives. He thought of his parents and brothers and sisters and hoped that they would also have good lives. He hoped that they would all understand why he had been compelled to act the way he had. He also thought about what he was about to do and tried to quash the fear he felt rising from his belly as it grew hotter and the stench of sulphur became almost unbearable.
When he got to the top he was awed by the site of the caldera filled with molten lava, bubbling and splashing occasionally. Besides the heat and stench, the noise was deafening. He looked back down the hill at the hunters, all watching intently to see that he fulfilled his promise and did not try to run again. He turned and faced the bubbling caldera once again and looked into the sky, a gray blanket over the land. His head still throbbed, he bled from the two spear wounds. Then plunged into the fiery lake.
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