The Wise Woman of Merema

T

he cave dwellers of Merema were known as the Special Ones because they had been chosen to live in a large subterranean cavern deep within the earth. Before they were chosen, the Special Ones had been as ordinary as everybody else.

Though they were living in what some islanders called Hell, the Special Ones didn’t mind the dark, damp, airless underground chamber—or so they told themselves.

Everyone knew of the Wise Woman who had lived there for many years, but no one knew how she had chosen the Special Ones. Many non-specials believed they had been chosen at random.

But why choose anyone at all?

Maybe she’s lonely, they told one another. Maybe she needs the presence of other human beings. But no one knew for sure.

Despite the conditions in the cave, the non-specials envied the Special Ones. They felt left out. They felt they weren’t good enough. At the same time, the non-specials couldn’t understand how anyone—special or not—could live without complaint amongst millipedes, beetles, mites, wood lice, spiders, cockroaches, eyeless amphibians, scorpions with venomous claws, and cave boas, not to mention the colony of roosting bats that numbered in the millions.

The bats tolerated the Wise Woman living there, but the presence of all those Special Ones

in their cave was too much. One night while the Wise Woman slept, the bats made off with her cat’s paw amulet. This should not have affected the amulet’s function. The Wise Woman had uttered the proper incantations so the Special Ones would remain forever special, but something had gone wrong.

The Special Ones began complaining. The novelty of being special began to wear thin. This is impossible! she told herself. But when she thought about it, she wondered if the amulet had become too weak after many years of use.

Soon she heard nothing but complaints.

The Special Ones admitted to each other that the dampness had seeped into the marrow of their bones. The darkness depressed them. They found the crawling and flying creatures disgusting. One after another, the Special Ones left the cave. The non-specials tried not to laugh as they watched them emerge. They were just like everybody else again. But they felt ashamed. They had given up. Nevertheless, it did not take long to see relief on their faces as their eyes adjusted to sunlight and they breathed in the clean fresh air.

The Wise Woman of Alotura

O

verrun by rabid hog-nosed skunks, rabid horseshoe bats and red foxes planted by the Pusia people, their enemies, the Cabanese on the island of Caban were forced to flee their beloved island. Until then, the Cabanese had led peaceful lives. Happy lives. Of course, at times they felt fear, anger, grief, sadness just like everybody else, but they never wallowed in their feelings—unlike their enemies.

The Pusia were jealous of their happiness. But happiness is not a forever thing. It is, in fact, fleeting. Fragile. More fragile than even the Cabanese suspected. Until their enemies forced them to flee, the Cabanese did not know how fragile happiness is.

Should the Cabanese have fought their enemies? The Cabanese were not fighters. They had never had to defend themselves.

Perhaps if the Cabanese had been able to talk with their enemies, they could’ve taught them how to be happy. But their enemies were not interested in talking and in truth the Cabanese did not know if happiness was teachable.

Of course, by the time the Cabanese reached the shores of Alotora, they were anything but happy. In fact, they were too unhappy to go any further. Alotora was a beautiful island, but they couldn’t see the emerald hills or the electric red wildflowers in the fields. Even the brightest blue sky was gray to them. The unhappiness inside themselves had seeped into the land, the water and the sky.

Everything was gray.

They now knew how their enemies felt.

The Cabanese were disappointed in the Wise Woman, but not as disappointed as she was in herself until one day while walking in the fields, she stumbled upon something small and pink by her feet. She bent down. It was palm size and oval shaped with a porcelain-like luster. It was too large to be a Queen Conch Pearl. Wasn’t it? And what was it doing in a field? She picked it up. It vibrated in her hand. Was it alive? If so, it was not alive in the way she had known other things to be alive. Whatever it was, it called to her in what she later told the others was both more and less than a voice.

Holding it, she felt her unhappiness lift.

For the first time, she was able to see Alotora in all its beauty. I was meant to find this! she told herself. Excited, she told the others, “I have found a cure for our unhappiness!” She placed the pearl on top of a very large flat stone in the center of their makeshift village and told them all they must touch it every day.

“How do you know this?” they asked.

“There is a Spirit speaking through me,” she told them. What else could it be?

Unknown to the Cabanese, a rabid red fox had stowed away on one of their boats. It had been watching them for some time. One night while they slept, it silently approached the stone, grabbed it and ran off. Sensing something was wrong, the Wise Woman awoke. Though she could not see it, the Spirit called to her again. Soon she found herself running down a long winding path at a speed that was far beyond anything she thought possible. When she saw the rabid fox up ahead fast approaching the boats where he might have hidden himself again, she uttered a scream so loud and otherworldly she could not believe her vocal cords had produced such a sound. Terrified, the fox dropped the pearl and continued running but it was so disoriented it began running in circles until it finally dropped in exhaustion and died.

Next day when the Cabanese rose and found the pearl on top of the large flat stone as usual, the Wise Woman did not tell them what had transpired. She did not know if next time she would be able to intervene on their behalf. She only knew there would be a next time, but she was not sure when that next time would be.

The Wise Woman of Baokkan

A

ndrew was the jealous type. When he saw how smitten Doreen was with Fred, he decided to put an end to it. Fred’s voice was jewel-like, liquid, as smooth as molten silver. With that voice he had seduced nearly every female on the island of Baokkan. Doreen, his fiancé, was one of the few who had not yet succumbed only because Fred had not yet focused his attention on her. But Andrew knew it was only a matter of time. His Uncle Nate was the leader of a small clan best known for disappearing their rivals in the village square while everyone watched. How the clan was able to do this no one knew, but when Andrew went to see him and urgently explained his situation, Uncle Nate promised to disappear Fred’s voice.

For two nights Fred dreamt about the sea.

The same dreams over and over.

When he awoke on the third day, his voice was gone. Fred was certainly not an exemplary Baokkian citizen, but the females he had seduced banded together angrily shouting, “Give Fred back his voice!”

Their memories kept them enamored. Otherwise, Fred was ordinary.

Though no one had seen the Wise Woman in recent years and almost everyone had forgotten her, Fred was frantic and descended to her underground cave, relieved to find her there. Since she was not only wise but a mind reader, she was able to see his thoughts.

Can you help me get my voice back?

“Where do you think it is?”

I keep dreaming about the sea.

“You think your voice is in the sea?”

Yes!

From her collection of amulets, she chose a fossilized limestone shell. “Maybe this will help,” she said.

The shell felt cold at first.

Can you take me to the sea?

Before Fred could clear his throat properly, he was transported to the edge of a steep cliff, the sea below. He looked down, terrified. He had never learned to swim.

Trembling, he asked, Shall I jump?

Fred felt a gentle nudge, then jumped.

Confused and scared, he smacked the water hard, then descended hundreds of feet until the ocean floor was visible. Quickly, his eyes adjusted to the semidarkness. Surprising himself, he was suddenly swimming and without fear, but he was still confused. Jutting from the ocean floor, he saw giant stone-like mounds and creatures he never imagined.

What am I looking at?

The Wise Woman speaking through the amulet said, “Brain Coral, Pillar coral, Star coral—”

Is my voice hidden in one of those corals?

Silence.

On his own, Fred followed one creature after another, but they swam too fast or disappeared in the sand or hid like the moray eels under coral ledges.

Is my voice under one of those ledges?

Instead of answering him, the Wise Woman showed him parrotfish grazing on algae, anemones with stinging tentacles and sponges.

Is my voice here?

Silence.

Instead, the Wise Woman pointed out crayfish, lobsters, and shrimps living in nooks and crannies of the coral. Nearby an octopus emerged from the sand and changed color—

Is one of these creatures hiding my voice? Has the octopus buried it?

Silence.

He paused. Why aren’t you answering me?

Fred watched Groupers over three feet long change from dark to light, then the giant eyes of several squids distracted him, then a coral crab crushing a sea urchin. Barracuda with razor sharp teeth hurried by, followed by jellyfish, transparent and umbrella-shaped, then sea fans and whips before he glimpsed a dull gray shark round a hard coral and schools of colorful striped and dotted fish—

Fred was awed but he was also exasperated. Is my voice down here? Or is this just a wild goose chase?

Again, silence.

Slowly, Fred rose from the depths, wondering whether his dreams were a sadistic joke played on him by the Wise Woman or by Uncle Nate. When he climbed up the steep cliff, Fred saw her at the top standing on the precipice from which he had jumped. When he was close enough, he handed her the amulet. Angry and disappointed, he said, I don’t believe my voice is there at all!

“I knew you wouldn’t find it,” said the Wise Woman, sadly.

So why did you let me go?

“I had no choice. Uncle Nate and his clan threatened to take away my powers if I didn’t take away your voice. I don’t think they know how to do that, but I didn’t want to take any chances. If I lost my powers and the powers of my amulets, I couldn’t live. I’m so ashamed of everything I’ve done for Uncle Nate and the clan. That’s why I haven’t shown my face. But I see now it’s better not to live at all than live corrupted by Uncle Nate and the clan.”

With that, she stepped forward, toes over the edge.

Wait! At least give me back my voice before you jump! Fred shouted, suddenly aware of his own silvery sounds louder than he’d ever heard them before.

The Wise Woman of Yanap

T

he Wise Woman on the island of Yanap was tired of watching the unending misery of all the inhabitants on the island of Umbas. The unmarried, the married, the divorcees, the widows and widowers, the rich, the poor, the old, the young, even children did nothing but cry and complain. They lost friends and relations over trivial things. They lied about their income. They cheated on their spouses. They stole out of greed. Arguments often led to violence. Still, everyone lied, everyone cheated, everyone stole.

The Wise Woman knew the plants were the cause.

The poisonous plants.

The plants with their broad green leaves and delicate veins had poisoned the minds of the Umbasites. The scent, the seeds, the spores were enough to turn them into pitiful beings. If only she could rid the island of the plants. They were everywhere. But the island of Umbas was a week away from Yanap by boat. The sea between the islands was treacherous with rip tides, sharks, jellyfish with deadly stings and rogue waves swelling to impossible heights.

The Wise Woman dreamt of sending a group of happy islanders from Yanap—and they were all happy—to Umbas to show the Umbasites what happiness looks like and in so doing weaken the power of the plants. But she was a realist. It was far more likely that the plants would poison the Yanapese—if their boat was not smashed to smithereens first.

The Wise Woman rarely used her hag stone amulet, but she felt she had to do something, though she feared the distance from Yanap to Umbas was too great for the power of the hag stone. Even if it worked, its power might dissipate or produce unexpected results. Still, she thought it was worth a try. She held the amulet in her hand till it grew hot, very hot, rubbed it three times and sent its power across the sea.

Then she waited.

And waited.

At last, the Wise Woman watched the power of the hag stone amulet kill all the poisonous plants which ended the misery of the Umbasites. It stopped the islanders from living the life they lived but it left them with no life at all. The Wise Woman told them how disappointed she was, but the Umbasites were not disappointed. Though life was no longer an option, they considered what they had now in its place—whatever it was—to be better than anything they’d ever had before.