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Resi’s new responsibilities will begin tomorrow, though he will need time to
prepare, so the work actually starts right away. An average of 31 kids turn
16 every day, so the next batch has already begun their cleansing ritual. He
remembers his own cleansing like it was yesterday, because it was! Now
they’re putting him in charge of the whole thing. Kokore apprentices train
for years before they even perform one ceremony without supervision. And
it’s not like watching them work on stage would prepare someone to fill in.
There’s all sorts of other things going on behind the scenes that Resi
doesn’t even know about. He doesn’t even know what he doesn’t know. He just
assumes that there’s more to it. For him, it’s even worse. They want him for
a job that hasn’t been done in two hundred years, with no education,
experience, or aptitude, and no manual. This has to be some kind of test. Is
this a test?
“It’s not a test,” his mother claims.
“So you’ve heard of the fifth House?” Resi presses.
“Just stories, but yes. Before you ask, I couldn’t tell you. It’s one of
many things that children are not to know until their sixteenth birthdays. I
didn’t think it would ever come up. No one did. I certainly didn’t think my
son would be chosen.”
“Chosen?” he echoes. “Chosen. No one is meant to be chosen for
a House. It’s a subconscious decision. That’s the entire point of the
Kidjum. If I was chosen, then who chose me? Who is responsible? What else do
they choose? Is our whole culture a lie?”
“It’s not a lie, brother,” Omir insists. “It’s just changing. You’re the one
who’s changing it. Your decision was still subconscious, but it was nearly
unique. You were born to a world different than our ancestors. You see
things differently. The island is ready for House Kutelin, and you tapped
into that. It’s still all you, but what sets you apart is that you have a
deeper understanding of the way things need to be now.”
Resi has never felt any different than the other kids. Mediocre is a
word that always swims around in his head. And he’s liked that—it doesn’t
sound like an insult to him. He appreciates being part of the collective. He
wants to stay that way. He wants to blend in. This is far too much pressure,
and he hasn’t even started whatever he’s expected to start. He doesn’t even
seem to have any sort of trainer or mentor. No guidance, no real answers.
His family doesn’t know anything. They’re just guessing. He looks down at
his little sister. She’s a quiet one, and if he can be honest with himself
for a minute, his favorite. It’s hard to tell how much of this she’s
understanding, because she never lets on. When you look into her eyes, you
will see nothing but wisdom and patience. He kneels down. “You’re the only
one I can trust now.”
She smiles and wraps her tiny arms around his neck. “I’ll come with you.”
“Oh, honey. You can’t go with him. It’s not time for you to choose—be
chosen,” she corrects, “for a House yet. Seven years more.” Mother
always talks down to Kala.
“It’s not about House Kutelin.” Resi takes Kala’s hand as he’s standing up
straight. “They’re moving me closer to the Tadungeria. She can stay with me
there.”
‘“You can’t take care of a child,” his mother argues. “Not only are you not
qualified, but you won’t have the time. You have a duty to the whole island
now.”
“Let’s not oversell it,” Resi counters. “I have a duty to the Four Houses.”
Many refuse to acknowledge that there are two other nations on Yana, which
have their own beliefs and practices. Today, they live in peace, and there
is plenty of cross-pollination, but there has been much conflict in the
past. The animosity can largely be attributed to a failure to recognize each
other’s presence. Or really, it’s more about mentally attempting to absorb
them into a single unified people. Resi knows that that’s not helpful.
Pretending the divisions don’t exist doesn’t dismantle the divisions, it
reinforces them.
“You also have a duty to this family,” Omir pushes back. “We need Kala here
to complete our chores. You will have access to resources now. The city is
well-established. You no longer need her, nor any of us.”
“Which is it, brother?” Resi questions. “Do I have a duty to our family, or
am I no longer a part of this family?”
“It’s both,” his mother says. “This tradition is not changing. Even if you
had chosen a different House for yourself, we would stay in contact.” Yeah,
that’s how it’s supposed to work, but it doesn’t make that much sense
when you break it down. If your subconscious wants to join a different House
than the one you grew up in, your ties to your first House are probably not
that strong to begin with. If Omir had switched to, say, House Naino, Resi
would not see him very often. He doesn’t even live here anymore. He should
probably be at his new home right now, doing his own early morning chores.”
“I’m starting something new,” Resi begins. “It’s scary, and I don’t want to
be alone. I wasn’t condescending to Kala when I said that she was the only
one I could trust. She is too young to have kept anything from me.” He holds
his free hand up when his mom opens her mouth to argue. “Now, I’m not mad
that you did. I understand why. But I can’t do this if I’m relying on my
family. If you can’t help me do what I need to do, then I need to commit to
my new House. But that doesn’t mean I’m leaving everything behind. I’m
taking Kala, because I need her, and I don’t want to hear another word.”
Omir and their mother look over at Father. He’s a quiet one too, but not in
Kala’s way. His silence shrouds an anger, and a darkness. He would never
hurt them, Resi doesn’t think. He hasn’t before anyway. What’s frightening
about it is how much he seems to be holding back. He doesn’t know
why Father should be so mad, and why he has to work hard to tamp it
down and remain calm. Resi thought he was doing something wrong when he was
a kid, but grew up to decide that it doesn’t have anything to do with him
specifically. There’s something bigger that bothers Father, which he can’t
or won’t say. But as reserved as he is, Father always has an opinion, and
they all respect it. “Son, it is not for you to know why your mind chose the
House that it did. It is not for any of us to know, for ourselves, or
for you. The fact is that starting a new House is no small venture. For my
part, I do not care what you do with your power. You could tear down the
Houses. You could wage war against the rest of Bungula. All is up to you,
and we’ll love you for it, and stand by your side. But what you
won’t do is deprive us of the labor and loyalty that we deserve. We
had all four of our children for a purpose. You may take Kala with you, but
in return, you will provide us with two new daughters as replacement, and
you will do so with your first decree after tomorrow’s Kidjum.”
If anyone on this island can make Resi do something he doesn’t want to do,
it’s Father. What he’s asking for—to Resi’s knowledge—has never been done
before. You don’t ask for new family members to host. When someone chooses a
House, they go where they’re needed, and no one is entitled to more than two
children, adopted or otherwise. Yet everything is changing now. That’s what
they’re fighting about today. He didn’t ask for this responsibility. “Very
well, you will have your new daughters.”
