Time.. Memory's Cruel Mistress

I wish I could remember it all. Forever. Never for it to fade or change. I wish my memory was perfect .. even when I do not want it to be. Perhaps if we all had a tiny Year Keeper in our skull placing perfect colored pegs to trigger perfect colored recall. And then a Singer .. to sing the stories of each peg so we could remember all the key points. Why is it that time does such devastating things to memory? It seems cruel to me .. like a jealous mistress .. demanding and fickle at the same time.

I went to the stream today .. to just walk the edge for it would be a year before I saw it again. There are not that many memories to take with me from this year .. but there are many faded ones to hold me over until I make new ones upon our return North.

I heard singing .. my step pausing for a moment. It was Silken. She was doing some last minute laundry at the stream and she came to speak to me .. apologizing for not making it by after hearing about Pacu. I told her I had been busy enough that I was probably harder to find than normal. I told her I had stepped down from my command. She asked me what she could do to help and I told her that it was I .. that should be asking her.

She told me where the weak points were in her preparations .. I told her I would fill them in. There were not many .. nothing that a strong pair of shoulders could not relieve.

I told her to sling the leather tarp under one of the wagons and have the kids start throwing dry chips into it. Now .. and during the move. There would be days when there would be nothing but raw chips .. days when the rains would come and soak the ground. Fuel was an important part of making the move survivable and comfortable. I would be doing the same .. and my slaves would be doing that chore for me.

She had something on her mind .. her words of what concerned her weighed heavy on my shoulders. I told her not to think about it .. to do as she had been told to do and that the rest would work itself out. I told her she had nothing to worry about .. I told her laws were laws and we are all chained by them .. all of us. I told her that her fears were not based in any kind of reality.

I wonder if she knew I spoke of things I am not sure I believe myself. I wonder if she knew I had to say those things. I did not tell her anything that she did not need to be told .. for her own safety ... for her own good. I would tell her those things again .. and again. If only for the sake she must not speak these things aloud. She must not give them voice. Not to anyone .. including me.

The conversation with Silken is over .. but her words still weigh on my mind. I am feeling myself torn in directions .. and it is not just her words. It is other things. Things I do not know what to do with. Things I have no authority on but things I feel as a man that I must take notice of.

I stand on an edge .. stretched out before me is the future and beside me there are many shadows who speak of things I can not see clearly. I wait to see what steps forward into clarity. I wait to see what part in this I will play as a Tuchuk man .. if any.

I am angry.

figures

I am angry that the shadows will not step forward and declare themselves. Be clear as to whether they are friend or enemy. I am angry that they remain obscure and I can not wrap my fist around them. I can not question them and their intentions .. I can not torture their meaning from the mist.

It is a terrible thing to do to a man. Give him a problem that he is not even sure is a problem and then give him the natural desire to solve it. Leaving him spinning his wheels on the edge of action driving himself insane.

It is a good thing I have a lot to do right now.

Perhaps I do not want a perfect memory. Perhaps I would slaughter the Year Keeper and silence the Singer. Perhaps .. there is a reason that time attacks memory .. so we can survive in our reality with some sanity.

huh