Trilla

TRILLA


You walk east on the path that runs beside the river. You haven't gone very far before you hear the faint sound of drums.

As you round a bend in the trail, you see a village of primitive huts made of woven grasses. From one of them comes the sound of drums.

In the river, not far upstream from the huts, there are some women and children. It's not clear what they are doing, but you can see that they are naked.

You study the village. Everything looks peaceful. There does not seem to be any reason why you shouldn't enter it.

You walk into the village. The huts are made of cleverly woven plants and look like big upside down baskets.

The noise of the drums is coming from the largest hut. You push aside the woven curtain that covers the entrance. The drumming comes to a sudden stop.

Inside the hut a dozen pair of eyes fix on you. "Hi!" you say, giving them your best smile, but they don't smile back. They turn to look at an old man and he speaks to you, but his words are meaningless to you.

You shake your head to show you don't understand. They talk to each other. Discussing you? You pick up one of their drums and inspect it. You tap a little beat on it with your hand and the room suddenly grows quiet. Uncertain what to do, you decide to try to imitate the rhythm you heard them playing when you entered the village.

You start pounding out a fairly good imitation of the rhythm. Maybe that time as a drummer in school will finally pay off. It sure didn't pay off back when you thought your band was going to make it big.

One of the natives joins in and then another and soon they all are pounding away on the drums. This goes on until it threatens to become tedious, but the old man raises his hands and everybody stops drumming.

There is a commotion outside and you see more villagers entering the village. Maybe they were down by the river washing clothes or catching fish. Some of the boys have strings of fish.

Seeing the fish makes you realize how hungry you are. You get the old man's attention and pretend that you are eating something. He doesn't understand, but one of the women does and chatters something at one of the girls. Soon a basket of yellow fruit is placed before you. You try one. They taste good.

There is a commotion at the door and one of the boys brings in a small wicker chest. The old man is delighted. He opens the chest and takes out something that looks like a dried fig on a leather thong. You are horrified when you realize that it is a dried human ear.

"We can speak now," says the old man. You look up quickly. You heard the old man's voice doubled, with gibberish coming from his mouth and words in your own language coming from the dried ear.

"What is this thing?" you ask.

The old man smiles and nods his head, "This is the ear of my father, Thol Bryn. He was a very powerful man, a teacher and a healer. Now we can talk. What is your name?"

Should you tell him you don't know who you are? "I'm not sure," you say. But that sounds stupid, so you add, "I don't know my name. I woke up this morning and I don't remember anything before that."

The old man nods. "You are a visitor. You are welcome to stay here. I will call you Traveler."

"All right... What is your name?"

"I am Tal Bryn, the first son of Thol Bryn. I am the father of these people."

You wonder if he means they are all his children, but you decide it just means he is the head man in the village.

"Are you hungry?" Tal Bryn asks.

"Yes, I am."

"We will eat soon." Then he says something to one of the women, but the ear does not translate it. Perhaps you have to talk directly at the translator ear to make it work.

One of the girls has been looking at you and she comes over to stand near you. She says "I am Trilla." Her eyes are a deep brown and her skin is a light brown. Her hair is a shade in between and is very long and straight and shiny. She only wears a strip of cloth around her waist.

You don't know what to say to her so you just say "Hello, Trilla" and it seems to be enough.

She smiles. She touches your arm and it seems magical. It isn't just that her hand is warm. Something seems to pass from her to you. Without knowing why, you feel that somehow she has claimed you, that you are her possession now. It's not an unpleasant feeling.

She gently takes your arm and points at the river. "Do you want to bathe?" she asks.

"Yes," you say. You can see a fire being built and preparations for a meal being made. Boys are cleaning fish and girls are cutting up vegetables.

One of the boys and a girl come with you and Trilla as you walk down to the river. The girl has a waist wrap like Trilla, but the boy wears a loincloth made of woven leaves. At the river's edge, they are not shy about dropping their clothes on the ground and wading in. You only hesitate a moment before joining them.

You had to leave the translator ear with Tal Bryn, but even though you can't understand what anyone is saying without the translator, you can catch the sense of it, and when the boy splashes water in your face and laughs, you know it's time for a water fight.

The four of you laugh and play in the water until you hear a call from the village.

There are no tables or chairs. Everyone sits crosslegged on grass mats. Bowls carved from wood are heaped with steaming piles of food. Everyone has a big wooden spoon, but the bowls are shared.

There is some light chatter as everyone digs into the food, then only the sounds of eating. You are hungry and everything tastes good.

After a while, the conversation starts up again. Trilla sits beside you and, as your belly gets full, you shift your attention from the food to her. Her slim tan body looks strong. There is nothing skinny or weak about her. She feels your gaze on her and turns to you with her deep brown eyes.

She smiles and you get lost in her eyes, so deep and brown and sparkling with little lights that seem mysterious and inviting. The lights call to you and you sigh. Then you laugh as you realize that you have stopped eating and are just staring into her eyes. She laughs too, and you hear other laughter. You look around and the girl that swam with you asks "You like Trilla?"

"Yes," you say. "I like Trilla very much." And there is more laughter.

The sun was setting when the feast began. By the time everyone has eaten their fill, the night has fallen.

The boys build up the fire until it is a roaring bonfire. The drums are brought out and a rhythm begins. It is slow and sensuous. The girls begin singing a song and it is a song that stirs your heart. You don't know the words. The ear cannot translate so many voices at once. But you feel the mood of it, the feeling of loneliness and beauty.

Then the rhythm of the drums changes, a slightly faster, more emphatic beat, and the girls get up and begin to dance.

They are all beautiful, but your eyes always return to Trilla. Her body moves in waves of fluid motion that make your heart sing. You realize that the night has only just begun. A wave of pleasure sweeps through your body and you tremble. You have to dance. You get up and go to Trilla. Some of the other boys are already dancing with the girls. You lock eyes with Trilla and begin to move.


The next morning, you walk off by yourself to a place where a large boulder stands by the river.

You climb up on the boulder and look out at the river. The sun is just beginning to rise and the first long golden rays of a new day sparkle on the water.

The night with Trilla was wonderful. You must make a decision. Stay here or go on? You don't know where you came from, who you are, or where you should go. But you know you like this place. You like the river and the village and the people. But most of all you like Trilla.

"I love her," you whisper to yourself and you know that you have made your decision.