“Eder? Should I call you that?”
“Yes, of course,” she said. “I forgot. We never exchanged names. I have always known yours, but you must never have heard of me before today.”
“Yesterday, actually.”
She laughed a little and turned her head to the side, sliding one of the barrettes into place. “Those barrettes are beautiful,” I said. “Where did you get them?”
She held one out in front of her, turning it over in her hand and rubbing her fingers over the markings. Then she handed it to me, saying, “My mama gave them to me on my twelfth birthday — my first one. They are the oldest things in my possession. Mama said they were made in the Time of Ice, when the ice was retreating and we lived in its shadow.”
She took my other hand and rubbed my fingers over the markings. The tiny lines and half circles were etched deep in the ivory.
“That is Meq writing,” she said.
“What does it mean?”
“We do not know. We have lost the ability to read it. Perhaps you will dream the code, no?”
She stood up and looked toward the sun in the west. It was almost over the horizon, but still glowed like a round, bloodred ruby. She walked in a circle around the stone table. “Your mama would have liked it here. Your papa too. He and Baju could have watched the night sky and had all their old arguments about the stars. I miss them. I wanted them to see Nova. I wanted. ”
Her voice trailed off and she stopped to watch the sun finally set. After a few moments, she turned toward me and I knew it was time to ask her. I wanted to hear more about Mama and Papa, but that could wait. “Tell me about Opari,” I said.
Suddenly she smiled and then put her hand over her mouth. She stared at me in disbelief. “You have had the Dream?” she whispered through her fingers.
I looked away from her for some reason and saw Venus rising in the east. “I have had a dream,” I said and turned back to face her. “Sailor said I should ask you about Opari.”
She sat down slowly, cross-legged again. She leaned forward a little with her hands folded in her lap.
“Then I shall tell you,” she began. “I shall tell you what I know as best I can because I have never seen her. Sailor is the only one of us to have seen her and that was long ago in the time of Those-Who-Fled. It is rumored that the one we call the Fleur-du-Mal has also seen her, but this has always been speculation.”
She stopped for a moment with a peculiar expression on her face. “Did Sailor tell you anything? Anything at all?”
“No.”
“Ah, I see. Well, that should not surprise me. It is still difficult for him, even after all this time. He carries too many memories.”
“Go on, please,” I said. “I need to know everything you can tell me.”
She went on, speaking quietly, but urgently. “Opari is the oldest among us, if she still exists. She is over three thousand years old. At the time she was born, all Meq lived in the Pyrenees. Her family lived in the hills of Oiartzun, through the tribe of Autrigons. They wore the Stone of Blood, as you wear the Stone of Dreams. Our histories and traditions, our customs, rituals, and ceremonies were known to all the Meq and were intact and used. Our written language was still practiced and passed down. It was an ancient culture even then, and known only to a few Basque of the five tribes. Our ‘differences’ and ‘abilities’ were totally unknown to the rest of the world. Then the Phoenicians came.
“At first, the Basque in the coastal villages treated them the same as they had the Celts and Picts, who had come by sea from the north, as equal and respected traders. The Phoenicians came seldom and generally left the Basque alone. Then, their visits became more frequent and they left men in the villages with the Basque to mine tin and other metals they could trade in the East. The Basque became less and less enchanted with their presence. This was new to the Basque, who had been isolated in their land for thousands of years. The Phoenicians had sophisticated weaponry and fortified ships, however, and they were practical and more interested in good business than conquering lands. A few leaders of the five tribes of the Basque approached the Phoenicians with an offer. If the Phoenicians would remove their men from the mines and their standing armies from the villages and only trade, in the future, from their ships in the coves and harbors, the Basque would trade exclusively with the Phoenicians. But they were naive. The Phoenicians never planned on staying in the first place. The cost of mining and the distance of their routes were becoming less profitable. Nevertheless, they told the Basque they would agree to these terms if the Basque could offer them something as a ‘gift,’ something that would be treasured and desired by the rest of the world and only the Phoenicians would have it. And whatever it might be, it would be the bond that would seal the promise between the Basque and themselves. The Basque believed them. After many meetings among the leaders of the tribes, an Aita of the Autrigons suggested a ‘loan’ rather than a ‘gift.’ He said there was no gold, tin, silver, or anything else as rare as the ‘Children of the Mountains.’ He suggested that a few of us could travel with the Phoenicians, serving as ambassadors and symbols of the magic in the Basque homeland and also represent the power of the Phoenicians. No one else could think of a better alternative and they sent the Aita to talk with the uncle of Opari. What was said is not known, but for some reason he agreed and he spoke for all the ‘children.’
“The families gathered in a central village and were told of the situation and opportunity. We were also naive and many thought it would be an honor and a chance to travel beyond the Pyrenees, Opari and her sister Deza included.” Eder stopped and asked, “Do you know of Deza?”
“Yes,” I said, “a little, mainly just the name.”
She nodded and went on. “Opari and Deza had been in the Itxaron, the Wait, for hundreds of years. Neither had met their Ameq. They both hoped to be chosen for the voyage, but Opari wore the Stones and early at the gathering it was decided that the five who wore the Stones would be the ones to go. The disappointment Deza felt did not last long, however. At the gathering, Deza met her Ameq — my brother, Umla-Meq.
“He and I had been in the Itxaron for only a few years, like yourself, and he never expected it. I was not at the gathering, but he told me later about the shock of the experience. A thousand years later, I found out myself.”
“What exactly is the Itxaron?” I interrupted. “No one has ever really told me.”
She looked in my eyes, searching, as Sailor had. I saw Mama turning her face toward me on the train. Slowly, evenly, she said, “It is the one thing that makes us — the Meq — different from all other species. The Egizahar must do it; the Egipurdiko do it sometimes, not often. We do not know why. It is in our nature to wait, physically and spiritually wait through Time for our Beloved, the one and only other with whom we are complete. This may happen soon, as in Sailor’s case, or it may take centuries, as in my case, or Deza’s, or Opari’s. And once you find your Ameq, it is still a conscious choice when and if you will cross in the Zeharkatu and become like the Giza and mature and have children of your own and be vulnerable to accident, disease, age, and death.
“Trumoi-Meq, an old one, once said, ‘The Wait is a wheel with spokes of discipline, frustration, silence, and love. It takes great patience and perseverance to keep it turning.’ Not all can do it, especially now, since we are so few and those few are in all corners of the world.”