From "Sarah Collins" 1750. Thought-provoking dreams. Doubts rise. Gender issues. Love wins out.
Less than two months later, however, Kweku's dream of his village full of strangers recurred one night. It seemed identical in all respects to the previous dream, except that it felt different. He could not understand why the village didn't even look familiar any more. Even though he recognized everything about it, it was as though he'd learned about it at second hand.
When he awoke, he spent some time in bewilderment over this dream. Then he decided it must have come to give him important information about something he needed to know. But what?
As Kweku trained and worked all that morning, a doubt began to grow in his mind how happy he really was here. It had not seemed possible to ever feel less than fervent interest in being a citizen of an African village. That he had reached such a blissful goal felt like the culmination of the most perfect happiness he could attain in America, second only to returning home. How could he ever regret coming here? He had always pushed away such doubts easily. But now they were nagging him persistently.
Thinking it over, Kweku had to admit that the imbalance of men's numbers over women's was not an attractive feature of Deer Skull. Only a small proportion of men there could have wives. This might even prove dangerous for their security. Adetunji was known to feel concern over the likelihood men from his village might raid other settlements, either Indian or white, to seize women. The outraged reaction to such acts would almost certainly spell the end of Deer Skull and their freedom. Kweku surmised that this was why Adetunji kept organizing lengthy daily military training, regular athletic contests, educational lectures, vocational training, prayer services, feasts, drumming ensembles, group sings, and other such community activities: to distract the men from their need for women, and to divert their energies away from aggression. Discipline was tightly maintained.
Kweku further admitted to himself something he had always understood implicitly, but had never given much thought to until now: Women are crucially important to the quality of life. An imbalance of masculinity was not good for a community. Even though men accomplished all the great deeds! It was men who built cities, ships, roads; it was men who organized government and defense; it was men who steered the destinies of nations. And yet what worth had all the proud works of men, unless women were part of life too? Men's contributions to society were only half of the whole. When wholeness was lacking from life, life itself was lacking. Quite simply, women are life itself.
That night he dreamed he was walking through a field of tall grass. He had just decided that he was lost, as the path was different every time he looked at it. Then through the grass he could see Shela wandering about. Where she walked there were blossoming corn plants dangling elegant tassels, dusting the earth before her with pollen that shone like gold dust. But Shela's expression was sad and her head hung down, her gaze on the ground. Why was she so sad? He called out her name. She didn't seem to hear, as though an invisible wall separated them. He called and called, until finally she looked up into his eyes, and her face burst into joy radiant as the sun. Kweku's heart leapt. But already the sound of his real voice calling aloud had woken him, and the dream faded to nothing in that very moment. The sun had just risen and was shining into the wigwam.
Kweku made an automatic, though half-hearted, attempt to brush away the feelings the dream had awoken in him. He failed. All he could see in his mind now was Shela. Suddenly a recollection occurred to him: how she had been gazing after him and seeming to sigh the day they parted. He'd paid no attention at the time. Only now was he consciously aware of it. In fact, he could call to mind nothing else.
Anansi said, "Well, what are you waiting for? Go to her already."
"I have pledged myself to this village. I cannot walk away from them." Kweku almost added that they were his people, but suddenly that felt strange too.
"So negotiate a posting in Shela's village. Say you'll be the resident Deer Skull representative there. Point out to them how your establishing a stronger Lenape connection, which would tie them more closely to the Indians, will serve their interests."
By that very evening, the council approved his new assignment, and he started packing for the trip to wherever Shela had moved. Down the Monongahela and up the Youghiogheny, Turtle Woman had said. First thing the next morning, he began lashing together a raft for the downstream leg of the journey.
When he awoke, he spent some time in bewilderment over this dream. Then he decided it must have come to give him important information about something he needed to know. But what?
As Kweku trained and worked all that morning, a doubt began to grow in his mind how happy he really was here. It had not seemed possible to ever feel less than fervent interest in being a citizen of an African village. That he had reached such a blissful goal felt like the culmination of the most perfect happiness he could attain in America, second only to returning home. How could he ever regret coming here? He had always pushed away such doubts easily. But now they were nagging him persistently.
Thinking it over, Kweku had to admit that the imbalance of men's numbers over women's was not an attractive feature of Deer Skull. Only a small proportion of men there could have wives. This might even prove dangerous for their security. Adetunji was known to feel concern over the likelihood men from his village might raid other settlements, either Indian or white, to seize women. The outraged reaction to such acts would almost certainly spell the end of Deer Skull and their freedom. Kweku surmised that this was why Adetunji kept organizing lengthy daily military training, regular athletic contests, educational lectures, vocational training, prayer services, feasts, drumming ensembles, group sings, and other such community activities: to distract the men from their need for women, and to divert their energies away from aggression. Discipline was tightly maintained.
Kweku further admitted to himself something he had always understood implicitly, but had never given much thought to until now: Women are crucially important to the quality of life. An imbalance of masculinity was not good for a community. Even though men accomplished all the great deeds! It was men who built cities, ships, roads; it was men who organized government and defense; it was men who steered the destinies of nations. And yet what worth had all the proud works of men, unless women were part of life too? Men's contributions to society were only half of the whole. When wholeness was lacking from life, life itself was lacking. Quite simply, women are life itself.
That night he dreamed he was walking through a field of tall grass. He had just decided that he was lost, as the path was different every time he looked at it. Then through the grass he could see Shela wandering about. Where she walked there were blossoming corn plants dangling elegant tassels, dusting the earth before her with pollen that shone like gold dust. But Shela's expression was sad and her head hung down, her gaze on the ground. Why was she so sad? He called out her name. She didn't seem to hear, as though an invisible wall separated them. He called and called, until finally she looked up into his eyes, and her face burst into joy radiant as the sun. Kweku's heart leapt. But already the sound of his real voice calling aloud had woken him, and the dream faded to nothing in that very moment. The sun had just risen and was shining into the wigwam.
Kweku made an automatic, though half-hearted, attempt to brush away the feelings the dream had awoken in him. He failed. All he could see in his mind now was Shela. Suddenly a recollection occurred to him: how she had been gazing after him and seeming to sigh the day they parted. He'd paid no attention at the time. Only now was he consciously aware of it. In fact, he could call to mind nothing else.
Anansi said, "Well, what are you waiting for? Go to her already."
"I have pledged myself to this village. I cannot walk away from them." Kweku almost added that they were his people, but suddenly that felt strange too.
"So negotiate a posting in Shela's village. Say you'll be the resident Deer Skull representative there. Point out to them how your establishing a stronger Lenape connection, which would tie them more closely to the Indians, will serve their interests."
By that very evening, the council approved his new assignment, and he started packing for the trip to wherever Shela had moved. Down the Monongahela and up the Youghiogheny, Turtle Woman had said. First thing the next morning, he began lashing together a raft for the downstream leg of the journey.