Bringing the Boy Home by N. A. Nelson Page B

while checking for holes. The swish, swish, swish of the brushing leaves lulls me into my thoughts.
    Over, under, over, under.
    Just like Karara braiding her hair.
    Over, under, over, under.
    She won’t be doing that anymore.
    Over, under, over, under.
    Will she grow it long again?
    Over, under, over, under.
    Will Maha cut Sulali’s hair?
    Over, under, feel for holes.
    Is Karara back?
    Over, under, over, under.
    What if she dies?
    Over, under, over, under.
    The spirits will be angry.
    Over, under, over, under.
    They probably already are.
    Over, under, over, under.
    They’ll never let me complete my soche seche tente.
    Stop.
    Maybe I don’t deserve to.
    â€œLuka?” my mother asks.
    â€œMaha, I think you can see I know what I’m doing. Do I really need to finish?”
    She is silent. “You are right. It is almost noon and you still have one more test. The last part is perhaps the most dangerous, but I won’t let anything bad happen to you.”
    I stand and she grabs my elbow. We walk for a while until she shoves a narrow vine into my hand.
    â€œFifteen steps in front of us is the den of an agouti,” Maha whispers. “Except an agouti is not living there; a wa-chu-chu spider is.”
    I take a step back, but she yanks me forward.
    â€œSilly boy, I told you I would not let anything happen to you,” she hisses. “My future is also at stake here. Why would I be so stupid?”
    â€œMaha, the bite from a wa-chu-chu is deadly.”
    â€œYou will not get bitten.” Her nails dig into my arm as she tightens her grip.
    I step back again. “We have enough food; it is not necessary to kill one. Doing so will anger the Good Gods.”
    â€œWe are not going to kill it. You are just going to lure it out.” She stands behind me and with all her weight pushes me.
    I stumble forward. “There has to be another way.”
    â€œStop talking and listen. If you get bitten, it will be your own fault,” she says. “As you know, the ku-stuh wasp lures the spider out by walking over its web. That is all you are going to do, lure it out. Once I see the spider fully, we will let it know who we are; it will retreat and we will leave.”
    I have seen a wa-chu-chu devour a fer-de-lance by sucking it dry until there was nothing left but skin. I shudder in the midday heat.
    â€œNow kneel, and I will guide the vine to the lair,” she murmurs. “The rest is up to you.”
    I lower myself, and she directs my hand. At first I don’t move. Takunami boys are taught to lure wa-chu-chus out of their lairs from a very young age, but it feels wrong attempting it without all five senses. Maha flicks my ear as a signal to begin.
    I lift the vine off the ground and skip it across the silky web. I skip it back, my actions becoming those ofa struggling insect. Two more times across, and Maha pokes me. She sees it. I do too. I have done this so many times, even blindfolded I can visualize the spider peeking out.
    Skip, skip, skip.
    It cautiously creeps forward.
    Skip, skip, skip.
    A hairy leg probes for the intruder.
    Skip, skip, skip.
    Not easily fooled. The spider scurries back inside.
    I begin again.
    Skip, skip, skip.
    Feeling threatened, it hisses and shoots out tiny hairs from its body. I jerk away.
    Skip, skip, skip.
    The vibrations are too much of a temptation. The hungry spider sneaks out again.
    Skip, skip. My “insect” is getting tired as I pretend to be caught in the web.
    I feel weight on the vine and Maha yells. The spider jumps off and scuttles away deep below us.
    â€œVery good.” Maha takes off the blindfold. “Don’t you feel silly now for making such a fuss? Mmpah —let’s go.”
    I grin and stand. I didn’t really think I could do it.And now Maha is letting me walk home without the blindfold. Things are starting to look up. The birds sing around me and the howlers hoot their approval. The jungle is happy for