Survivors 3-5

[aurelius]

Survivors 3-5: 61-65

 

61

 

Our island was at peace.  The Egyptians traded with us: we received more cotton loincloths and sheets; they received smaller basins of lapis and ankh and scarab necklaces.  Captain Amun brought the goods and although he asked several times to meet with the artisans who made the ankhs and scarabs, either Amare or I deflected the question and noted that island-Egyptian relations had been peaceful for a while—and Amare did not want to endanger his son, nor did I want to endanger a brother.  Captain Amun dropped the subject of the artisan and we decided on another exchange of goods to our mutual benefit.

 

Masud went back to Mycenae and Kydonia, trading thunderbolt and dolphin necklaces for oil and oil lamps. The whole island now had oil lamps.  One of the big topics among the men was whether or not to install doors on houses.  Some thought the doors provided greater privacy.  Others thought the netting sufficient and more welcoming—what did we have to hide?  The only thing that men could see—if they tried to peer through the netting—was men blowing or fucking, and didn’t everybody do that anyway?  But some of the newer men wanted real houses with real doors.

 

After several weeks, Garin reported that he and Akhom, and their muscle buddies, had taken slabs of rock to all the parts of the island where men wanted houses.  Some men even built houses at the edge of the jungle.  They said taking baths in the jungle stream—even with the danger of snakes—made them stronger.  And indeed, these men did tend to pack on muscle and eventually joined the quarrymen carrying slabs.  So Akhom and Garin had plenty of quarrymen to carry the doors to about a quarter of the island men who wanted doors for their houses.  This meant that when the quarrymen weren’t carrying slabs—which was most of the time—they were practicing Coconut end playing informal Coconut or Go-go-nuts games without a judge.  Luckily, these men were all big and muscular and they got along well; they just loved pushing their bodies against each other in the semi-wrestling holds of the regular Coconut games.  They were also interested in seeing how fast they could pull down men who teased them in Go-go-nuts.  And, truth to tell, these muscle men simply liked feeling the power of other muscle men and often their informal Coconut games became Go-go-nuts matches with muscle men fucking muscle men.  I stumbled on one of these “matches” with Lateef one day.  We simply stopped and watched the explosion of muscle against muscle.  It was pretty glorious!

 

Coconut and Go-go-nuts were the most important events on the island.  Men bragged about getting fucked by more than one man in Go-go-nuts—as much as other men bragged about the number of times they touched the coconut to the boulder in a Coconut game.  There was a lot to be said for allowing men to have a place where they could free their sexual desires.  And although I was at first worried that Abari’s glorious ass would be too enticing for many men to leave alone, he proved quite able to push aside any man who tried to fuck him.  Abari’s friends knew he loved to suck cock, and they gave him the freedom to find good cock to suck.  So, although some of Abari’s friends did indeed lust after his glorious ass, they didn’t really want to fight Abari—not when he was so intent on sucking cock.  

 

Once Tafari—who loved Abari and respected him—went up to Abari at the beginning of the Go-go-nuts teasing and said, frankly, “I’d like to fuck your glorious ass, my friend.”  Abari put his big hands on Tafari’s shoulders and said, “Tafari, my friend, my ass belongs to Jabar, but I’d love to suck your glorious cock!”  And so he sucked Tafari’s cock.  The story circulated around the island; Abari was given great freedom to suck cock—everyone recognized that he did it so well— but that his ass belonged to me.  One more reason for me to love my island.

 

And yet, and yet—I wanted to go back to Kapadar and dance with the bull.  I wanted to feel the sky open again.  And I wanted to see Nashuja again,  I talked with Abari about it.  He knew I liked dancing with the bull, and he realized that Nashuja wasn’t a sexual threat.  So he was willing to go.  We both wondered if Xander would want to go.  But Xander said he wouldn’t unless Zuberi would go—he didn’t want Nashuja seducing him again without Zuberi knowing about it—and maybe Nashuja would like sucking Zuberi’s cock too?  Abari thought that would be just fine—it mean that he could suck both Xander’s cum and Zuberi’s—more fun for him!

                                                  

Besides, instead of our Dad being bothered by dreams, now Xander was bothered by dreams.  Without thinking, he would touch his Demetrios bracelet and feel what was happening with his twin.  Most of the time, it seemed Demetrios was happy fighting against the Trojans, although lately it seemed he was spending a lot of time in the Greek encampment before Troy.  Xander was not at all sure what that meant.  Still, he felt that Demetrios was happy.  But he wanted to come along on a voyage to Kapadar, since it meant Masud would also be going to Mycenae.

 

I also invited Lateef—if I could dance with the bull, perhaps he could too.  But Garin wouldn’t let Lateef go without going himself.  In fact, Garin thought it might be a fun thing to wrestle with the bull.  

 

“But Garin,” I said, “On Kapadar the bull is sacred.  I’m not sure they would like you wrestling with a bull.  They wouldn’t feel too bad if the bull killed you—but what if you killed one of their bulls?”  Garin smiled and said, “I’d like to see if I can.” 

 

I thought for a moment and then said, “You have to promise me—if Nashuja says you can’t wrestle and kill a bull, then you won’t.  Agreed?”

 

Garin’s face darkened, he grumbled, but he also realized that dancing with the bull was important to me, so he said, “Well, OK, agreed.”

 

There was one more person who had to agree with my going back to Kapadar: Dad.  I told him that with so many of my brothers going, it was most probable that we would all come back.  “But Jabar,” he said, “You aren’t thinking of all the ways something could go wrong!”  Amare agreed: “You do realize,” he said, ”that this means weeks or maybe a month of your Dad worrying about you and Lateef and Xander—a month of him worrying and having bad dreams and us having less-than-satisfying sex.  And you’re taking all your brothers!  So now, not only will your Dad worry all the time, but so will I!  You do realize that—yes?”

 

“So, why don’t you two come along?  I’m sure The Kapadarans will be awed by Amare and curious about your pale hair, Dad.”

 

“But we can’t just up and leave here,” Dad said.  

 

“Yeah,” said Amare, “We’re the Coconut judges.”

 

“Why can’t you get Akhom and Asim to take over for you?  They’re pretty reasonable guys.” I paused.  “I really want to go back and dance with the bull. I promise we won’t stay longer than a week in Kapadar.  That’s two days voyage to Kapadar, one week in Kapadar, another two days voyage to Mycenae, a day or two there, and  four days voyage home.  We should be gone two weeks—tops!”

 

Amare looked at me and said, “I love your brain, Jabar, but I don’t believe you will be gone only two weeks.”  But he looked Dad and Dad looked at him and said, “I can’t stand having all my sons away for that long.  So, maybe we should go and share their adventure.  Whaddaya say?”

 

Amare thought a long time.  Then he said, “I think Akhom and Asim will be fine Coconut judges.  And maybe we should take a vacation.”  

 

 

62

 

Our whole family stood on the deck of Masud’s ship and looked at the harbor fading away.  Amare put his big arm around Dad’s shoulder and said, “I never thought I’d leave our island.”  Dad answered, “I know.  It feels so strange.  And yet, we trade with Egypt; we wear loincloths; we have oil lamps.  Maybe our whole island is civilized enough so that we can take a trip to Crete—or whatever they call their island.”

 

One thing was clear: the ship was going faster with our family pulling at the oars.  Xander and Abari pulled as before, but they were reinforced by Garin and Zuberi, and Amare and Dad; Lateef and I rowed just as fast as the other rowers, but the coxswain really couldn’t control six big musclemen—he had to let them row as fast as they wanted.  The ship fairly sped along.  Masud was happy about that.

 

Before we reached Kydonia, I gathered my family around me and took out several new cotton cock pouches from the large cotton pouch I had brought on board the ship.  “The Kapadans worship a snake goddess and snakes are sacred to her.  So, if there’s a chance any of you will dance with the bull with me”—here I looked at Lateef—“please take off your snake cock pouches and put on cotton cock pouch, as I have.”  Here I opened my loincloth to show my cotton cock pouch.  “I had these cotton cock pouches made back on our island.  I explained to the weavers what Ive just told you.  Really, if you take off your loincloth and are wearing a snake cock pouch, the Kapadarnas will be upset.  But if you’re wearing a cotton cock pouch, we will make friends.”

 

There was some grumbling—mainly from Garin—but everyone took off their snake pouches and put on the cotton cock pouches.  Father Amare said, “This feels nice!  I may wear this always, and ask the weavers to make more!”  Dad agreed.  And if I had convinced them, then no one else was going to refuse my request.

 

I was surprised when we entered Kydonia harbor: Nashuja was there!  I quickly got on my sandals; I was glad to see Abari and Xander getting everyone else to wear sandals.  Garin, of course, resisted the idea; Lateef had to argue with him a while about trying to fit in and not scaring the good folks of Kapadar—or arouse the suspicious of the Mycenaeans.  Lateef had to remind Garin that the Mycenaeans had tried to enslave Abari, and Garin was just as muscular as Abari.  That argument worked; Garin put on some sandals.

 

Once everyone was ready, I nearly jumped off the ship onto the harbor: “How did you know we were coming?”

 

“I didn’t,” he said. “But every time Masud brings his ship into the harbor, I’m here, hoping to see you again!”  He gave me a brotherly kiss—and then kissed both Abari and Xander.  He looked at our other brothers and fathers, smiled and said, ”Did you bring the whole of Muscle Island?”

 

“No,” I said, “these are my brothers and my fathers.  This is Amare and Gareth, my Dad.”—they both made little bows with their heads and Nashuja returned the bows.  “This is Zuberi, Xander’s lover—if you want to suck Xander’s cock again, Zuberi has to approve.”

 

“Then,” Nashuja said, “I will be extra nice to Zuberi,” and he walked up to Zuberi and caressed his shoulder and chest, smiling his winning smile.  I had expected Zuberi to be cold to Nashuja, but if he was cold he melted under Nahuja’s charm immediately.  “I guess if you suck my cock too, you could also suck Xander’s,” he said.

 

Nashuja smiled: “Deal!”

 

Hearing one of his favorite words, Garih smiled and said, “This guy moves fast!”

 

Nashuja turned to Garin and said, “And who is this hunk of muscle?”

 

Lateef turned a cold eye toward Nashuja: “He’s mine, you smooth creep!”

 

I quickly interjected myself between Nashuja and Lateef.  “Nashuja, this is Lateef; he is one of my closest brothers.”  Then I looked from Nashuja to Lateef and back again, “I do NOT want you two to fight.  It would break my heart!  Besides,” I said to Nashuja, “Lateef is built like me.  I think he’d be a good bull dancer.”

 

“I agree,” said Nashuja.  “I apologize for lusting after your big muscular lover.  Jabar is right; you do have the build for a bull-dancer.  Besides, we’ve had few Nubian bull-dancers.  The people of Kapadar will cheer for you!”

 

Meanwhile, I gave Garin a cold eye and whispered: “No; wrong time.”

 

Our fathers were curious about the island.  Dad noticed the Mycenaean soldiers: “I understand the Mycenaeans have conquered your island.  Do they bother you a lot?”

 

“Not too bad.” Nashuja said.  “As I explained to Jabar, Abari and Xander, as long as they get their gold, they mostly leave us alone.”  He paused. “Excuse me. I need to talk with Masud a little.  Then I will return and try to be the host this assemblage of muscle deserves!”  Nashuja walked over and had a short discussion with Masud.  Masud didn’t like some of what he heard, but he soon nodded and Nashuja came back to us.

 

“I had to tell Masud that the Mycenaeans would take a tax on his wares.  They weren’t as specific the last time he was here, but now they are.  A man from my father’s office will be down to count Masud’s wares and take a tax for the Mycenaeans.  And if he didn’t do it, some Mycenaean soldiers would and they aren’t as nice.  Now, please follow me and I will show you to some guest rooms at the palace.”

 

Abari, Xander and I smiled.  We knew where we were going.  And Abari and I knew we needed water bottles, so we wore them.  Lateef looked suspicious; Garin was whispering to Lateef—probably something about protecting him.   And our fathers were acting like any tourist: looking around, asking questions about the palace.  Nashuja read our family well: he paid close attention to our fathers, answered all their questions and treated them with courtesy: 

 

“The palace contains many rooms—not only for nobles and bureaucrats like my father, but also for official family members, like me, and for artisans and servants.”  He turned to Zuberi, “I understand you are quite the artist yourself.  After your family is settled, would you like to come with me to see some artisan workshops?”

 

“Actually, I’d like to see that too,” said Xander—echoed by Amare and Dad and Lateef.

 

“So then,” Nashuja said, “We’ll stop by there on our way to your rooms.”

 

 

63

 

There were several workshop rooms—in fact, there seemed to be a whole collection of rooms—a wing of the palace, if this palace could be said to have wings.  I thought Zuberi would be most interested in metal-work, but one of the first rooms was devoted to painting and he was immediately interested—or perhaps he was interested in this very good-looking, fairly muscular artist who was wearing only a loincloth as he painted a big mural of dolphins cavorting in the ocean.  Zuberi asked Nashuja: “Is there any hope that this artist speaks Egyptian?”  Nashuja asked the artist; he replied in halting Egyptian, “A little.”

 

Zuberi walked over to the artist, looking for Nashuja to come with him and help with translation: “Where do you get your style or painting?”  The artist didn’t understand the question, so Nashuja translated and after the artist replied in Kapadaran, Nashuja translated: “He simply follows the style of Kapadaran artists—they have painted this style for centuries.”

 

Zuberi said, “It’s very beautiful.”  The beautiful artist seemed to understand the short sentence, so he smiled and nodded his head.  Zuberi then asked Nashuja, “Does he mind if I have a look around at other paintings?”  Nashuja translated and then told Zuberi “No—please look around.”

 

Garin nudged Xander and said, “You need to have a talk with Zub; this artist is very good and very very good-looking!”  Xander smiled: “All these Kapdarans love to suck and fuck—and there seem to be no rules until you’re married.  Maybe Nashuja is getting someone to suck Zub’s cock so Nashuja can suck mine again!”

 

Meanwhile, our fathers were looking around as well—not only in this painting workshop but in the next workshop rooms for pottery.  I couldn’t only see that they were talking together; they gestured to Xander to join them and they talked together—so I guessed they were talking about improvements for the pottery studio back on our island.

 

And then we saw the metal-work workshops.  Of course Zuberi was interested; so was Xander. But while Zuberi took Nashuja with him and talked with various artisans, Xander took a good look at the kilns, and then he asked Nashuja some questions, which Nashuja translated to the metal-workers and then translated back to Xander.  Xander nodded and went over to our fathers.  Once again, it seemed like we were learning things that would help our smithy and other artisan workshops on the island.

 

“This is all very interesting,” Amare said as we left the workshop area.  “Thank you, Nashuja, for guiding us and for translating for Zuberi and Xander.  I think they have already learned some things which can help us at home.”

 

“I’m very glad to help you.  And, if you haven’t noticed, you are already the talk of the palace.  By evening, everyone in Kydonia will know about the well-muscled visitors and the possible new bull-dancing Nubian!  We Kapadarans may not be able to defeat the Mycenaeans, but we can gossip better than anyone in the Aegean!”

 

Of course Nashuja didn’t take us to his rooms again—we were both too many and I think Nashuja wanted to impress our fathers.  We were taken to a group of rooms which were actually better than Nashuja’s rooms.  There was a sitting area, with several oil lamps and big wall paintings of dolphins, bull-dancing, flowers and stylized animals like griffons.  And there were four bedrooms—one room for each couple.  I looked around and turned to Nashuja:

 

“Thank you, my friend!  These rooms are very nice, and you even have separate bedrooms for each couple—a very nice thing for you to do for us!”

 

“We’re not a poor county, Jabar.  We may have lost our freedom, but we can still entertain our friends.  Now I am going to go and arrange a feast at my father’s quarters.  I know you don’t eat much, but my father would like to entertain you and you can at least enjoy some of our wine and maybe some of our entertainment.  You might enjoy some of our dancing boys!”  He gave me a quick peck on my cheek, hugged Abari and Xander and said goodbye to everyone else.

 

When he was gone, Dad said to me, “That is one charming fellow—with one of the best smiles I’ve ever seen!  Are you sure you aren’t a little in love with him?”

 

Abari chuckled.  “Jabar likes Nashuja, but Nashuja likes Xander—so I’m not worried at all.”  Then he picked me up and gave me a big hug and kiss.

 

“And,’ said Xander, “If I know Nashuja, he led you”—here he thumped Zuberi’s chest—“right by that good-looking artist.  I wouldn’t be surprised at all if he wants us to go to his rooms and we’ll find the artist there, waiting to suck your cock!”  Zuberi dipped his head and said, “And I’ll probably let him and let Nashuja suck yours again.  That guy is so darn charming!”

 

Everyone was charmed by Nashuja except Lateef and Garin.  Lateef looked cold, and Garin said, “So when is the right time for me to ask if I can wrestle a bull?”

 

“Well, not when we’re being shown our rooms!”  I said.  “Look, tomorrow Nashuja will probably take me and Lateef to the arena where they dance with the bulls.  Lateef, I do hope you can get over your suspicion by then and take advantage of Nashuja’s teaching.  He really knows about bull-dancing.  And I think you will love it,—IF you give Nashuja a chance!”  I said these last words right in front of Lateef’s face.  It only then occurred to me that Lateef might have been jealous—jealous that I might like Nashuja more than him.  So I said, “And no, I don’t like Nashuja more than you.  I would never choose to live on Kapagar instead of our island.  But, IF you can give Nashuja and bull-dancing a chance, I think you’l understand why I love it so much.”

 

Abari came to my aid: “And Lateef, Jabar is really good at this bull-dancing.  Xander, don’t you agree?”

 

“I certainly do.  We muscle guys can’t do it; bull-dancing is for guys with less muscle—so Lateef, you’ll be great at it!  Just give Nashuja a chance!”

 

“You guys are ganging up on me!”  Lateef looked at me, then Abari and Xander.  “But I guess the three of you can’t all be crazy!”

 

 

64

 

The feast was nice.  We met Nashuja’s father.  He was most impressed with the muscle of Amare and Garin.  I gathered that Nashuja had told his father about our not eating much, so only a platter of grapes and other fruits came by our table.  But the wine did flow—and Xander, once again, proved how Greek he was.  Abari drank a little more than he had in Pylos and Mycenae, and Garin drank a fair amount—which scared me, because I didn’t need to have to deal with a drunk Garin.  But Lateef seemed to share my fear and he and Abari kept Garin in line.  

 

What surprised me most was our fathers—both their drinking and their talking with Nashuja’s father.  They seemed to have a genuinely good time.  Of course, it helped that Nashuja’s father, Aranare, knew Egyptian and was impressed by both our fathers.  And they were impressed by his knowledge as well.  I was simply surprised that my Dad seemed to be so cultured!  When there was a lull in their conversation, I leaned over to Dad and said, “I did’t know you knew how to talk with a bureaucrat!”  Dad smiled at me and said, “Men are pretty much the same everywhere.  When I was growing up, I watched my dad as he found his way through the politics of our tribe.  There’s always politics, whatever the tribe or country.  You father and I both know that—as you yourself do!”  And once again, Dad smiled and showed how beautiful he was.

 

After we had drunk our evening water and everyone was fed, Aranare clapped his hands and musicians started playing.  Several very good looking, athletic young men came running into the area in front of the low tables and started dancing.  They started with a dance that had to be about bull-dancing.  One young man put his hands up to his head, bent down and ran at another young man.  The second young man leaped over the young man playing the bull—and this went on until all the young male dancers had jumped the bull.  Everyone applauded.

 

Then the young men danced their way around the room, teasing some of the guests—but mostly us.  I looked over at Nashuja: “You certainly know what we like!”  Nashuja smiled: “It’s the duty of a host to entertain his guests to their greater enjoyment.”  

 

We were all smiling and enjoying the dancing when Garin finally revealed just how much wine he had drunk: he got up, said something that sounded a bit like “I’ve got to get me some of that!” and started toward one of the pretty young men.  Lateef tried to grab one of Garin’s legs, but Abari had more success in pulling on one of Garin’s arms.  Abari hadn’t drunk as much as Garin and was almost as strong as Garin, anyway.  So, even though Garin really wanted the pretty young man, Abari pulled him back down and avoided an incident.  Garin finally settled down when Amare looked over at him and scowled—proving once again that Garin could not disobey his dad.

 

What was remarkable—at least to me—was how Nashuja responded to Garin’s outburst.  I looked over at Nashuja and said, “I am terribly sorry; I apologize for my drunk brother!”  Nashuja just chuckled and said, “I guess we gave your brother too much of what he wanted!”  Then he bent closer to me and whispered, “Is this going to cause a problem between Lateef and Garin?”  I whispered back, “I don’t think so.  Lateef is used to Garin sometimes getting out of hand.  But I am pleased that you remembered their names.”  “None of you,” Nashuja whispered again, “is easy to forget!”  And then he gave one of his world-class smiles.

 

After the feast, Nashja helped us get back to our rooms.  Once again, the palace seemed bewildering to us—rooms and courtyards and more rooms and courtyards—a bewildering place.  “It helps to have grown up her,” Nashuja said.  Once in our rooms, we were all tired.  Garin was terribly sorry for what he had done—he was obviously drunk, and his apology only reinforced the fact that he had been drunk.  He cried a little in Amare’s arms, but Amare kissed him and gave him to Lateef: “Let him sleep it off.  He’ll be better in the morning.”

 

When we got back to our little room, I thanked Abari for pulling Garin back from his attack on the pretty dancer.  “You were great, my love—you saved Garin from embarrassing himself and us!”  “I just figured he wasn’t in his right mind,” Abari said.  I smiled and hugged him. “You are growing up, my love!”  “I’m only growing up because of you, my Jabar!”  We kissed and then we found enough strength to suck cocks before we went to sleep.

 

 

65

 

The next day was bright and Garin was himself again.  I loved that we could sit down with our fathers and have morning water together.  We had just had our first sips when Nashuja knocked on our door: “May I come in?”  I said, “”We’re having morning water, but you’re welcome to come in—and even have a sip, if you wish.”

 

“Thank you,” he said.  He came in, sat down, turned to me smiling and said, “Jabar, I have arranged for your family to come to the practice arena and anyone who wishes may learn to dance with the bull.”

 

Nashuja took a very small sip from my cup.  I said, “Thank you, Nashuja.  I have been prodding my brother Lateef to try to dance with the bull.”

 

“I’m sure once he sees you in action, he will want to try.”

 

Abari turned to Lateef and said, “Lateef, you should see Jabar dance with the bull.  He’s very good—and you can be too!”  There were times when Abari’s pure enthusiasm was a gift.  This was one of those times.  Lateef looked to be ready to say something sarcastic, but Abari stopped him with his sunny smile.

 

“OK,” Lateef said, “I’ll come and watch—and maybe try.”

 

Garin turned to Nashuja and asked, “Is there a chance I could wrestle a bull?  Would that violate your religion?”

 

I could see the wheels turning in Nashuja’s very diplomatic head. “It isn’t unheard of.  We have an older bull and we don’t dance with him any more.  I will ask the other dancers what they think.”

 

Amare spoke up: “I’m afraid my son sometimes wants to try dangerous things.  If he goes in the arena to wrestle a bull, I’d like to go too.  Would that be permitted?”

 

Nashuja smiled at Amare, “Of course.  I really don’t want any of you to die.  And this bull is a bit unpredictable.  It would be wise to have someone else in the arena with Garin.”

 

So, after morning water, we all followed Nashuja out of the palace and down to the two arenas.  We went to the practice arena first, of course—even though I was itching to leap over a real bull.

 

“You’ll want to remove your good loincloths,” Nashuja said.  When we did, he smiled and said, “Thank you, Jabar!  I’m sure you are responsible for these white cotton cock pouches.  I assume the snakeskin pouches are safely stowed away.”

 

“They are,” I said.  But I’m happy to say that my fathers like the cotton ones!”  Amare and Dad smiled.  Nashuja smiled at our fathers and said, “I am beginning to see why you hold your fathers in such high esteem!”  He paused and turned to me: “Do you want me to explain how to dance with the bull, or do you want to simply show them?”

 

“I’m eager to dance with a real bull, but this one will do for now.”  And I took off at a run toward the wooden bull. Placing my hands on the wooden back felt like a part of me had come home.  I loved the feeling of turning myself over in mid-air and then landing on the far side of the bull—on my feet.  I could hear Abari cheer and say, “See, Lateef!  Isn’t he great?”  Xander and Zuberi and our fathers all clapped.  It was great to have a cheering section, but I knew the challenge would be to get Lateef to try.

 

“It’s easier than it looks, Lateef” I said.  “You run at the bull, put your hands on the bull’s back and then flip your legs over your head so that you land on your feet on the other side of the bull.  Would you like me to do it again?  Oh!  And when I learned, I had Xander and Abari stand on either side of the bull to catch me if I made a mistake.”

 

Abari said, “We didn’t have to catch him.  In fact, we got bored, since my Jabar kept doing it so well!”

 

“Well, OK,” Lateef said.  “But I want Garin and Abari to stand on either side of the bull to catch me if I mess up.”

 

“Deal,” said Garin, and he and Abari smiled.  They got into place.

 

Lateef ran toward the wooden bull.  He leaped over the head, planted his hands on the bull’s back, and flipped his legs over as if he had been doing this leap all his life.

 

“I did it!” he said, smiling, as he walked back to our side of the arena.

 

“And you did it quite well,” Nashuja said. ”And,” he said smiling to me, “you did it better than Jabar did on his first leap.”

 

“Oh, you’re just saying that because you’re a smooth diplomat,” Lateef said, but he was smiling.

 

“Well,” Nashuja said smiling, “I am a diplomat, but I also know what Im talking about.”  And he took off toward the bull and did a perfect leap.

 

‘Whoa!” Garin could be heard saying from the middle of the arena.

 

I turned to Lateef: “Nashuja does know what he’s talking about.  And I think your size probably makes you a better leaper than me.”

 

“I’m surrounded by diplomats!” Lateef shouted.

 

“So,” I said, “go again!” I started to hope that the sky would open for him.

 

Lateef made a second perfect leap.  Abari looked at Garin and said, “It seems to me that I’m going to be bored again!”

 

But when Lateef ran back to our side of the arena, he was smiling. He said, “That felt good.  And something happened—“

 

I couldn’t keep myself from blurting out: “Did you feel the sky open to you?” Nashuja was smiling.

 

Lateef said, “Yes, I felt something, some kind of opening.  And I think I’d like to dance with a real bull.”

 

“Just follow me,” Nashuja said.