Lonely, then. I understand that very well.
We continue to sit in the shadows as the sun begins to rise, and it’s nice. My palm is sweating pressed against his, but he doesn’t seem to mind. I glance over and I can make out his face, just a bit. He grins, showing a flash of teeth, and then gestures at the window. “Word?”
And then he makes a gesture that looks like the sun rising from behind the horizon. Or a flower blooming. Or an atom bomb exploding. But I suspect it’s the sun. “Dawn. Sunrise.”
“Dawh,” he whispers. “So rize.”
“Dawn,” I whisper back. I’ll get into the differences between nouns and verbs much, much later in his language lessons. “Murr speaks good.”
His expression shows genuine pleasure and delight at my compliment, and he studies my face, as if looking for something. Then, he says, “Murr no kith.”
I pull back in surprise. Where did that come from?
My astonishment must be evident. He continues whispering, leaning in. “Dakotah kith Murr.” Then he shakes his head, the movement exaggerated. “Dakotah good. Murr good. No kith.”
Oh.
I’d forgotten all about my promise to kiss him. He hasn’t forgotten, obviously…but now he’s telling me it isn’t necessary. That he understands. Maybe I’m reading too much into it, but I don’t think I am. I’m getting to know him despite the limitations in language. “You’re very sweet, Murr. Thank you.”
And I lean in and give him a quick peck on the cheek.
CHAPTER 29
MURR
I rub my cheek,startled. Dakotah just gave me a kith.
It was on the side of the face, just like she gave Ribbit, and not on the mouth with extended lips like I have seen in some of the pictures. She has fulfilled our bargain, and I feel a twinge of guilt because I have made the kith out to be something impressive and it was…
Uninspiring. Brief and uninspiring.
I appreciate that she felt the need to honor her vow, so this disappointment is all on me. I touch my cheek again, and as I do, I think about how soft her lips were against my skin. The softness is the thought that lingers. Perhaps it feels very different when it is mouth on mouth.
Perhaps it feels different when it is my lips on her face.
I turn to look at her hopefully, wondering if I can lean over and push my lips to her face. But Dakotah is turned away, watching Ribbit sleep, so I abandon the idea. One of my cats arrives and kneads his claws in my thigh, purring. I scoop him up to pet him instead, and watch Dakotah out of the corner of my eye. She looks weary. Tired. Worried. Her hand moves toher strange instrument on her other side, over and over again, stroking it like I stroke the cat in my arms.
Eventually Ribbit sits up with a yawn and a cat crawls out from under the blankets with her. They both stretch, amusing in their shared movements. Ribbit smiles at her mother, then at me. Then, she leans in close, her voice dropping.
“Ahgee n Doh-dee stilleer?”
“Stilleer,” Dakotah murmurs. She gets to her feet, wincing as she stretches the kinks out of her body, and says more soft words to Ribbit. They are discussing something, sharing whispers back and forth that are too quick for me to follow. I catch the names of the two elder females more than once, and I suspect they are trying to determine what to do with them. Ribbit gestures at me, but it is not an indication for me to join the conversation, I think.
Ribbit eventually puts her hands on her hips. “Yr so supicshs, Mom.”
“I no.” Dakotah shrugs. “Gitressed.”
Then, Dakotah taps my arm and indicates I should get up and follow her out. I set down the cat in my lap and get to my feet. As I do, my loin wrap falls to the floor. I pick it up again, putting it around my hips once more and making sure that Dakotah sees that I yet cover myself to appease her jealousy of the other females. Is she not pleased that I keep myself only for her?
But my female gives me an absent-minded smile, takes my arm, and leads me out of the room.
We head outside, and my cats come running to greet me. I pause to pet and hug each one to let them know I appreciate their affection and check them over. A few need their eyes cleaned again, and I make a mental note so I can show Dakotah later. She moves to the firepit and begins to put sticks in the bottom, building up a pile so she can make the day’s fire. Islide the cat in my arms onto my shoulders and pick up the one rubbing against my legs and move to join her.
I wait for Dakotah to ask me to help her with fire, but she does not. Perhaps she has forgotten? I pull one of the sticks out of the pit and blow a puff on the end, setting it alight, and then hand it back to her. She looks startled, and then sheepish, and puts it in the pile of woodstuffs. “Dankyew.”
She looks so chagrined that I wish I had the words to tell her that it is not a problem. That I want to help her with the tasks she has around the home. That I enjoy assisting her and making her day easier.
But her cheek is turned to me, and I impulsively lean in and press my lips to it.
