HETALIA BELONGS TO HIDEKAZ HIMARUYA

2002

Young Kimeli Naiyomah had left them some time ago to study medicine far, far away, in America. Massai knew he would return wiser and make a great contribution—Enkai could make wonders through his skilled hands, so he gave him his blessing before his depart.

Now they had him back. The whole tribe rejoiced, greeted him with honors. Although he was dressed in the North American way, he still kept the beads necklace the women had crafted for him. He was greeted with music, dances and a feast. Massai himself embraced him and told him to sit by his side by the fire, encouraged him to tell them about the wonders he had seen across the ocean. Kimeli, although tired because of the trip, told them everything he had seen: the automobiles, the neon signs, the crowds, the buildings taller than the tallest tree they could imagine...

His expression became somber when he mentioned that.

"I left America in his saddest hour." He said.

They asked him what could possibly sadden a nation so prosperous, so rich, so merry.

"World Trade Center."

Massai listened with great attention. He didn't know what that was. They had acquired electricity in the village just shorty before September, and they didn't use it on televisions, but more important devices, the necessary for survival. They had a radio, and they had heard about some collapse on the 9th of September, but they didn't understand what it meant. They were not familiar with the landmarks and all the things people had outside of their land. Kimeli explained it all in a way they could understand.

His stories made Massai's skin crawl. The women and the children sat closer to listen, all holding their breath. Some didn't want to believe it was true—it was too horrible. A gigantic bird of iron, destroying cabins. Crumbling mountains. Men falling to the abyss. Smoke, fire, rubble. Dead buried everywhere. Thousands of lives taken. The heart of the proud nation stopping.

No, it couldn't possibly be, how someone could be so monstrous as to do this, how vile a warrior had to be to kill in such a dishonorable way. Whoever did this atrocity had to pay with his miserable life.

Massai kept these stories in his heart for long. Thought about them day and night. He thanked his god for keeping Kimeli safe in the midst of such chaos.

The story had moved his tribe immensely, but they couldn't feel it the way he did. America and him were both nations. They were something else. They knew how great the pain inflicted to their people was. He didn't even want to imagine what he was going through.

He decided he had to do something about it.

He set out on Kenya to ask her if she knew how to get in touch with America. He needed him to come.

Enough time had passed for America to recover from the blow. The first months had been awful and there were times when he still didn't feel like getting out of bed, but he was starting to show his face in public, to meet his fellow nations. Nevertheless, this call requesting him to come to some forsaken part of Africa was a bit too much. At first, Massai was told that America was too weak for such a trip. Only his insistence made him accept in the end. He had no idea of what a tribe he didn't even know about wanted of him, so this should be interesting...

He hopped out of the Jeep, to find that the whole tribe was awaiting him. Massai, their leader and nation, stepped forward and bowed his head.

"Sopa." He said. America didn't know what he had to reply.

Kimeli Naiyomah served as an interpreter.

"Our nation has heard about the attack you have suffered, and wants you to know that you have our support."

America glanced at Massai and saw him drawing a polite smile.

"Ah...Tell him this is mighty kind from him..." He replied.

A call could have done, he thought.

"He wants to give this to you, to make you feel better." Kimeli continued.

Some young boys appeared then, with something that made America rise his eyebrows and wonder if he was seeing right or if the jet lag had him hallucinating.

Cows. He counted them. Fourteen. Fourteen cows.

"Ah...How do you say 'thank you'?" America asked.

"Ashe."

"Ashe, ashe." America repeated, joining his hands and bowing to Massai.

Masi approached to place his hand on his shoulder and give him a reassuring grin. America smiled too, even though he was screaming from the inside.

After what he had been through, he wasn't in the mood for this!

"So we can't transport them? I mean, you just get a plane and..."

"I am sorry, Mr. America, but it is not as easy as you think." His secretary told him.

"Okay, so they'll have to stay in Africa. Okay." America removed his glasses to rub his eyes. "Uhm...I know! We can always sell them and make burgers, and use the money to...I don't know, buy Massai something pretty."

"That would be a little disrespectful, sir."

"...Yeah, you're right." America switched the hand he held the phone in, and groaned. "A card would have been just sweet, why cows? What did he think I would do with a cow? With fourteen of them? Did he intend me to keep them like pets or something?"

"It is their culture, Mr. America."

"Some cultures are just weird."

"Cows are sacred to Massai. They represent life. His god is a cow. So what he is giving you is a holy gift."

"...Really?"

"Yes. I have been investigating. It is all a sign of good will towards you. His tribe donates cows to those in need, when they are sad, when they want someone's favor, they must have a certain number of them as a requirement in order to get married."

America went silent for a moment.

"...I didn't know they meant that much for Massai. I mean...Fourteen cows for a tribe like his...Must be a big deal, right?"

"Probably."

Another pause from America.

"Are you there, sir?" His secretary called him.

"Yes, Melissa, I'm here."

"It's the head again?"

"No, I'm fine. Uhm..."

He moved the receiver away from him a little, so she couldn't hear him try to control the tears.

Massai was giving him something sacred, something he needed more than he did, to show his sympathy, to help him recover...Even though America wouldn't have been able to distinguish him from any other African tribe...Even though New York was far, far away from his little village...

"America?"

America sniffed.

"Maybe...we can give those animals a good use? Like...maybe there's a way to...Hey, I'm thinking...Maybe they want to go to school? Since we're doing literacy programs around there, I'm thinking...I don't know...use their value to put them in school or something..."

"That is a good idea. I will study it and tell you if it is viable."

"Great. It's...the least I can do, right?"

Perhaps this was better than a lousy 'get well' card...

THE END