Pale Skinned Strangers

Omniscient
Lonely Prophet
Anika
Eric
Lacienika
Wisdom

Imagine a young girl’s face. Dirty, innocent, sad. Her long brown hair is tied back roughly into two ponytails and a single brown rag covers her small delicate body. Her big, beautiful brown eyes tell stories of her past. Barely six years old, she has more stories to tell than you or I ever will. Stories of misery and injustice, but also stories of pride and friends. Anika lives in a small isolated village (in the desert) known as Tayle. All of the families of Tayle live in quaint clay houses and are kept alive by a nearby river and a neighboring oasis. The villagers are all friends, they know each other well, but they know nothing else, they have no idea that there is a bigger, better world only a few hundred miles away. They are all so content and unsuspecting, all except Anika.

Anika’s father is a stranger among the villagers of Tayle, his skin is light and he dresses differently. Anika has heard stories of how Eric Cramer came to live in Tayle. He had come here with a group of many men like him. They all wore strange clothing and spoke a strange language. This group of young foreigners had stayed in the village for a few months taking advantage of the women and doing whatever else they felt like doing. Only one man took interest in the people of Tayle. He had fallen in love with one of them. In great desire to speak with her, he learned their language and became great friends with her. When came time for the troop to go back home, Eric had not wanted to leave. He had begged the villagers, whom all loathed the foreigners that had been quartered in their village for so long, and he had begged his fellow soldiers, whom depended on him for his great language skills, to let him stay. Finally, both parties, though discontent, allowed Eric Cramer to stay in the village. The village never really got used to the presence of this pale man, he was always treated like an outsider. Only Eric’s hot love for Lacienika gave him the heart to stay. Everyday, he let himself believe that eventually, they would learn to like him. A year later, Lacienika gave birth to a beautiful girl of pale skin. The people of Tayle narrowed their eyes, in a manner of distrust, the same way for Anika as they did when they thought of Eric. As the years went on, though, Anika proved to be a bright, helpful girl with perfect manners. Though there was always a distinct difference between Eric, Anika and the rest of the village, Anika found friends in the village and fit in as best as she could.

There were many important people in the village of Tayle, and one of them was the Lonely Prophet. He, despite the growing acceptance for the two fair ones, was convinced that they were a bad omen. He told the people tales of things that white people had done to other villages much like Tayle. He had nightmares, and visions about the two white people living in his village. At first everyone had believed his every word and never trusted the fair ones. But as the moon waxed and waned, they began to lose interest in the Lonely Prophet’s stories and saw that neither of the two pale ones meant to harm the little village in any way. This angered the Lonely Prophet greatly and he set it upon himself to bring death to the two fair ones. So, he slowly devised a plan.
---
Anika woke in the middle of the night. She had heard a soft thud. She silently lifted her head slightly and looked about her family’s hut. There was an old skinny man on the other side of the room; he was bent over picking up something reflecting the moon’s light, a knife. Silently still, Anika reached out and started shaking her father’s arm. The old man started advancing Eric Cramer’s bed, a gleam his eye. Anika shook her father more urgently.
---
Eric woke to the sight of a wrinkled face looming above him, knife in hand, wild crazed eyes shining. On impulse and out of pure terror, Eric pulled his gun from under his bed and pulled the trigger. The old man went flying backwards and was dead before he hit the wall. His bony form crumpled against the wall and stained the room with precious blood. Eric panicked; he was not even trying to grasp the situation. Eric jumped out of bed, ran to the old man sprawled on the floor, and ran back to his bed. Then, his eyes rested in Anika’s for a second and he froze, he stared into her eyes, entranced by what he saw: two beautiful, young, innocent, trusting eyes welling with tears.
---
Lacienika woke up suddenly to the sound of a gunshot. She allowed her eyes to get accustomed to the dark for a minute and looked around. Her shriek echoed throughout the entire village, painfully dragging all of its citizens into the conscious world.
---
Every single villager came running to the white man’s hut and crowded in the doorway. Someone lit a torch and illuminated the scene. Lacienika was kneeling in bed, shrieking and crying. Anika was sitting in bed, wide-eyed terror dominating her face. Eric Cramer was standing next their bed, gun in had, babbling about who knows what. And the Lonely Prophet was sprawled on the floor, basking in blood, dead. Time seemed to stop as the villagers tried to comprehend the radical sight. Lacienika finally stopped shrieking and simply passed out. At this sudden change, all the villagers started talking at once. Some of them wanted to know exactly what had happened, some of them were simply devastated by the sudden loss of the Lonely Prophet, but most of them were yelling angry words about pale skinned murderer.
---
Anika snapped out of her petrified stare. She stood, thoughts not connecting with reality. For a while she didn’t move and then suddenly, she broke out running. She pushed through the crowd, out the door, and into the desert. She ran and ran and ran until the sun came up and then, she just kept running. Thoughts were finally starting to flow through her mind; images of the night, reminders of thirst and fatigue were chasing each other menacingly throughout her head. She ran up one dune and down the other, running, always running forward. Eventually she couldn’t see where she was going, tears, sand and fatigue obscured her eyesight. She felt herself leaving her physical form. She tripped and fell face first into the sand and finally lost all touch with the real world.
---
Two gray mild set eyes, framed by wrinkles of age and white hair, walked up to the front of the mob gathered at Eric Cramer’s door. The angry villagers were getting louder and louder. Violent sobs, angry threats, and the silence of gaping mouths created a rather dissonant fugue. Wisdom looked at Eric once and then turned to the crowd. She raised her arm in a gesture of peace, and the dissonance faded into a solo of Eric’s babbling. Then, Wisdom’s hand came down in one clean swipe, paused on Eric’s cheek, clack, and rested at her side. The slapping sound seemed to echo throughout the entire village.
---
Eric’s solo came to an end, and with tears in his eyes, he looked around his tainted hut. First he looked at his wife, his beloved, unconscious on their bed. Then he looked at the Lonely Prophet, leaving his permanent crimson mark. Next he looked at Wisdom and through his running tears saw her hard, merciless, gray eyes. Then he looked at the villagers and shamefully met their silent, angry glares. Last he looked at the floor and sniffled.
“That man killed the Lonely Prophet! He deserves to die!” A speaker yelled choking back tears. There was a murmur of agreement and a chorus of sniffles. Most of the villagers had their dagger-full eyes set on Eric.
---
Wisdom looked at her people and then looked at Eric, “Though it is not our way to seek revenge. I believe that there would be justice in this course of action. From the start our hearts held suspicion of the pale man. The Lonely Prophet had only warned us of his threat. He was the only one who would have been strong enough to act out the message of our hearts. You knew all of this Mr. Cramer!”
“He snuck into our hut and tried to kill me. He stood over me like a madman with his battle-blade and would have killed me!” Eric was now enraged, by his nature, death he did fear.
“Maybe it was your time to die, or maybe it was his…” responded Wisdom the decrescendo in her voice now apparent.
“But think everyone,” piped up a small voice, “without Eric, Anika would not be here. Think of all the things she has done for everyone of us!”
All the villagers, feeling that their opinions were more important that others’, started speaking all at once again. Wisdom was deep in thought. Divided between doing what the villagers would want her to do and doing what her heart was telling her…
---
Eric, though enraged, was starting to take in the scenery. Something was missing. What was missing? Then, in a flash an image of Anika’s encouraging smile came to him mind. Anika! He thought, where is my Anika? Eric was just about to admit his concern when Wisdom once again held up her hand in a gesture of “peace”, as if her hand was a baton directing a cut off. Eric cringed, expecting to be hit again. The villagers stopped talking immediately.
---
Wisdom hesitated in the sudden silence. “The Lonely Prophet’s intentions correct or not, you have killed an honorable man. The penalty…” Wisdom was choking back tears, then angry for having shown weakness, she spoke again with deafening strength, “The penalty is death!”
---
Simultaneously, the villagers started cheering wildly, for them a secret desire expressed, Wisdom breathed a sigh of relief, unseen, and Eric fell to his knees, desperation and hopelessness banishing all thoughts of Anika.
---
Wisdom looked up, a mild smile upon her lips, proud. She started herding the villagers outside. When she was sure they were all going home, she shut the door to Eric Cramer’s hut. She turned to him and ordered him to stand. The look upon his face when he stood, framed by long, brown sweaty hair, was one burned into her memory. Wisdom realized she had just taken the life of one of her people. Troubled, she looked at the corpse on the ground. The loss of a great friend jolted the finality of her decision into place. “In one week, Mr. Cramer, all your alien things will be at the river’s edge along with yourself. Leave no memory of you here. Anika and Lacienika will be safe here.” Here words were firm, but here eyes had avoided Eric purposefully. Wisdom had not noticed that Anika was not there. Wisdom walked over to the bed and picked up Lacienika, looked at Eric briefly, and walked out the door. Once outside, Wisdom closed the door. She heard Eric sobbing uncontrollably. Wisdom hesitated once more. In the distance, she heard laughter from a villager. Resolutely, she turned her back to Eric’s hut and began walking towards her own hut.
Once inside her own hut, Wisdom gently deposited Lacienika on her bed. She looked at Lacienika’s face, calm and unsuspecting. Hardhearted, she walked over to her table, sat down in her chair, picked up a pen, and began recording the night’s events.
---
There were no words to be said. After all his hard work, he was going to be killed. It was what everybody wanted. How could they be so final in their opinion of him? Could they not see that he had been trying? They never even considered the idea that the pale skin was only a mask concealing someone so much like them…They had never given him a chance. Eric had never been a generous person, not in giving a hand but not in dealing out evil either… They just assumed that because he didn’t try to prove himself that he was exactly like the jackasses he came with. Besides, if he had offered help, the recipient would have been so resolutely untrusting… It just wasn’t fair.
These weren’t the thoughts of Eric Cramer they were Anika’s. She had woken to their endless buzzing. All thoughts and actions were hindered by her thirst and hunger, but she still knew that Wisdom would have ordered the death of her father.
The circle Anika was managing to walk in was getting wider and wider. Anika couldn’t see, her throat was parched, her feet and shoulders were burning. She once again felt herself escaping the real world. This time, though, she kept going, putting one foot in front of the other. Later, she liked to imagine that every time she stepped, she was crushing the horrid thoughts hopelessly gathering inside her mind.
Anika thought she was at her end and that all her energy was spent; the tears running down her cheeks wasted whatever had been left. She whimpered as she lifted her leg for what she thought was the last time. But, as she brought her foot down, she realized the ground was not where it should have been, her foot kept going downwards past where the scorching sand should have met it. Then, bam, her foot hit solid dirt. The impact jolted Anika and robbed her of her balance. Anika let everything go, I am dying, she thought. Just then, she heard a curious sound: splash! Anika’s mind snapped back into reality. She felt water embracing her back, her arms, her legs, her fingers… It was the most wonderful sensation in the world. Anika stumbled to her feet and faltered into deeper water. When she felt the water cup her chin, she stopped and started gulping water. Drinking, drinking, until she could see again. Anika let a weak laugh escape her.