Ain Ghazal: Accounts of a Gazelle-man

By Son Rhandi

Chapter 02: "The Definition of Chôjin"


Although he didn't want to take Lionardo's words to heart, the situation with Tanzania's government was worsening. It was as though there was a new uprising every week, and the number of able-bodied Chôjin was dwindling as a result. With every new story, he felt the urge to take hold of his gauntlet and leap to action. But he had Enkidu to worry about… What would he do if he didn't come back? What would become of his little Enkidu? He couldn't take that chance. Then came the question of what to tell Enkidu, what to tell him about his wrestling history. Lionardo had been surprised when he told him he hadn't mentioned anything about Chôjin wrestling to his son. Anyone would have been proud to learn that their father was a famous Chôjin. The fact of the matter was, Daggerhorn wanted only for his son to lead a happy, uneventful life.

While the blood-red buck mulled, his son's attentions had taken him to the television set in the village square. The adults were whooping and hollering about something on the box. He'd never seen them so excited before. Squeezing through the mass of larger bodies, Enkidu found a comfortable little space up front and took a seat to watch. A man in a zebra costume was taking quite a beating from what looked like a giant bongo with arms and legs.

"Ooh, and Drummer Boy unleashes a devastating series of knees to Zebra Man's gut!" Shouted the announcer off-screen. "It doesn't look good for ol' Zeb! But what's this..?" A man in blue tights and a carved wildebeest helmet hopped the ring ropes. "It seems that Beest King is coming to his partner's aid! Ooh, Drummer boy gets a nasty elbow drop to the head, courtesy of the Beest! He falls to the canvas! Where is Nile Nuebe when you need him?"

The camera panned to a green-skinned humanoid with a crocodile tail sprawled out on the mat. "That's right!" The announcer continued. "He's been KO'ed, and it looks as though Drummer Boy will be joining him shortly!"

Enkidu was enthralled. He had never seen such a thing. Were the men in the TV playing a game? Was this some sort of sport? His eyes widened as he watched the zebra fellow lift his bongo-bodied opponent high over his head, then leapt to stand atop the cordage.

"Uh-oh! Is it going to happen?!?"

Zebra Man sprung high into the air, doing an aerial back flip then chucking Drummer Boy to Beest King below. The wildebeest positioned himself beneath the bongo and raised his head. The horns of his helmet began to glow, then doubled in size. Drummer Boy fell on them head first, skewered.

"Yes!! The ultimate move!! Z & W Shish Kabob! That is it! This match is OVER!!"

With the ding of the bell, the audience ringside and TV-side cheered and hooted. The camera then turned to the announcer, who could have been considered the Nubian version of Mac Metaphor. "And there you have it, folks! The winners of this year's Tanzanian Chôjin Wrestle Fest are the tag team of Zebra Man and Beest King! These two are taking home the gold! I swear, this match brought tears to my eyes..! Why, Wrestle Fest hasn't seen a match this exciting since Daggerhorn and Lionardo, I dare say the best combination in our country's history, won ten years ago! Can we get a clip of that?"

Little Enkidu blinked. Daggerhorn and Lionardo? His father and uncle? The gazelle-child shook his head. Nah, couldn't be. Must have been a different Daggerhorn and Lionardo…

But there they were, sure enough. Uncle Lionardo's furry face invaded the screen. He looked a little younger, the child noticing he had a lot more man there than outside the television. "This was the most memorable final match in Wrestle Fest history! Who could forget the close race that was Daggerhorn and Lionardo VS Captain Tanzan and First Mate Zanzan?"

The camera panned behind his uncle, over to a familiar strong-jawed buck. Daggerhorn's left eye was gummed shut with blood, and his ear on the same side lay limp across his face. They both stood together, though, right hands raised as victors over some clearly dismembered body parts, the remains of their two opponents. "For those of us who were lucky enough to see it, Daggerhorn really 'stuck it to them' with his Antler Fist, didn't he, folks?"

That elicited a few laughs from the surrounding adults. Enkidu scooted closer to the TV as the camera took a close-up of his father. Despite his injuries, he looked simply ecstatic. It was… different… seeing him like that. But then, if this was such a famous match, and he was such a famous person, why hadn't he said anything about it?

…What the heck was a Chôjin, anyway?

Having seen enough, Enkidu scrambled out of the crowd back to the dusty street to seek out his dad. Turning the corner, he ran into a sturdy leg and fell on his rump. "Aren't you going to say 'excuse me'?" The familiar voice asked.

The little fawn looked up to see his father smiling at him. "Are you ready to go?" He asked, taking his son and sitting him on his shoulders.

"Yessir!" Enkidu replied cheerfully, locking his arms around his father's neck. And so, they departed Norongdo Village.

____________________________________

Home wasn't far. Ten minutes past Norongdo, east fifteen minutes through the tall grasses to the house near the Ngorogoro Crater. Perched atop Daddy's shoulders, Enkidu felt an immense sense of security. Daddy could take on three, even four lions at once and not even break a sweat. Even in the tall savannah grasses, with Daddy, he knew he'd be safe. His feelings were strengthened further knowing his dad was a Chôjin wrestler, whatever that was…

"So, little man, did you have fun today?" Daggerhorn inquired.

"Mm-hmm!" The fawn replied cheerfully. "I like playing there. Everyone is really nice..!"

"Well, that's good to hear..! I'll take you there to play with the kids another day, alright?"

That sounded good to him, a tight hug around his father's thick neck a positive indicator. "Daddy, what's a Chôjin?"

Daggerhorn stopped dead in his tracks. "…What..?"

"I saw you and Uncle Lionardo on the TV today," the child continued. "The TV said that you were really great Chôjin wrestlers. What's a Chôjin?"

The buck lowered his ears, his eyes taking on a downcast expression. "…We'll talk about it when we get home."

"Can't you tell me now?"

"No..!" He snapped, causing little Enkidu to jump, startled. "…No…" Came the calmer reiteration. "We'll talk later, I promise."

Enkidu pressed a cheek to the back of his father's head and sighed quietly, looking as though he was ready to burst into tears. He hated to be yelled at. It was upsetting for the sensitive child. They continued the duration of the walk in silence.

They lived well, those gazelle folk. Daggerhorn had managed to save a good amount from his earnings as a wrestler, so their home, appearing to be little more than a mud brick hut from the outside, was actually well furnished and laden with luxuries. Enkidu had retreated to his room upon their return, still a little upset about his father snapping at him the way he did. Playing with his toys was a bit of self-comfort, though.

They were all nice wooden toys, ones of rhinos and giraffes and hyenas and such. His favorite two were his figures of a gazelle and a lion. They starred in the story of "Gazelle Man and Wonder Lion," a continuing saga in which the protagonists would take on the evil King Croc and his Hippo Armada and save Tanzania on a daily basis.

"Mwa ha ha ha! It seems you're in trouble again, heroes!" King Croc 'said' in a sinister voice. "Stuck in the middle of the Nile, my ships have you surrounded!"

Enkidu positioned the lion and gazelle figures back to back in a bowl of water, three hippo toys forming a circle around them. "So, Gazelle Man," Wonder Lion 'spoke'. "How do we get out of this one?"

"I have a plan," Gazelle 'responded'. "Wait for my signal."

"Cannons ready, aim…"

The attack was interrupted by a knock at the door. "Enkidu! Come on out here for a second!"

Dad… And just when it was getting good, too..! Sighing, Enkidu left his toys and headed for the living room where his father sat in his favorite armchair. "Son," the buck beckoned, patting his thigh. "Come sit up here."

Nodding, the little gazelle scrambled atop his father's lap. Enkidu looked up at him with those big, black eyes of his and the buck couldn't help but smile. Turning his attention to the coffee table for a moment, Daggerhorn lifted his steaming cup and sipped from it a nice Columbian brew, returning the cup to its coaster. Beside the cup of joe was a book, and he took it in his large white hand and sat it in front of Enkidu.

"You said you wanted to know what a Chôjin is, right?" Dagger inquired. "Well, a Chôjin is a super being, much stronger than humans. They live a lot longer, too. They can do lots of things, but are best at fighting." He turned to the first page of the book and pointed to a newspaper clipping. "Can you read the headline for me?"

"Um… New… Ch… Cho… Chôjin Wuh-res-tiler--"

"Wrestler," the father whispered.

"Wrestler… Enters Ring Like… Lightning."

"Good boy." He smiled and patted his son on the head. "That article is about me, when I first began wrestling." He flipped ahead a few pages to a photo of a slimmer him holding a trophy over his head. "See? That was when I won my first tournament. I had to wrestle your uncle in the finals for the tile. Even though he lost, he wasn't sore about it. We became good friends afterwards."

Daggerhorn flipped forward a few more pages to a photo of himself and Lionardo. "And this," he began. "is when Lionardo and I won the Wrestle Fest ten years ago."

"That's the one I saw on TV today," Enkidu pointed out. His father was a very popular man, strong, intelligent, respected by the villagers, and one of Tanzania's greatest Chôjin. Could he be great like his father? "Daddy, I want to be a wrestler, too!"

And Daggerhorn nearly fainted.