Ororo Munroe and Rachel Summers belong to Marvel Comics; Amelia and Jamala are all mine.
"Can the leopard change its spots?"
-Jeremiah 13:23
Amber shafts of light swirled pleasantly, gently within the close, stifling air of the greenhouse as dust motes danced soundlessly, sleepily in their wake. Quite suddenly, their carefully timed waltz was violently disrupted and they began to swirl furiously about the brow of a most unusual creature. It was a small child, though it looked more goblin than child. Its crimson curls were tousled and disheveled, its pallor, almost cadaverous, flesh streaked here and there with angry brushstrokes of cinnabar, and its immaculate, cotton dress stained in certain places with emerald as were its fragile, white knees which also boasted an oozing, gleaming swatch beneath the right kneecap. The child, illuminated in the afternoon light, appeared somewhat as a troll or perhaps even a young ogre and if a stranger had been looking on he or she would have exclaimed "On my life, an apparition!" Yet the creature moved out of the pool of sunlight and the spell was broken.
"I hate them! I hate them!" it cried in a passion. "I wish they would all rot in hell!"
"Rachel!" a most scandalized voice interceded and out of the jungle of tangled vines and creepers, of fragrant amaryllis and irises stepped a lithe young woman, rather like a young doe emerging from its forest glade. She too was more fairy than human with her warm, honey-brown skin and hair the color of corn silk.
"That is no way for a young lady to speak," she said severely, taking in the bedraggled image of the small child. "Look at you! Why, you're seven years old, practically a lady and you're still getting into mischief like some sort of common ruffian."
The girl glared up at the young woman from beneath her thatch of fiery tresses, plopped her hands on her narrow, little hips, and stuck her lower lip out in a defiant pout. The woman's features softened into a warm smile as she knelt and spread her arms graciously wide. "Come here, Chui," she beckoned softly.
Rachel's lips curled back in a pearly leer. She could always count on Ororo's sympathy. She ran to her and nestled her head against the young woman's welcoming bosom. Rachel inhaled her godmother's enticing fragrance, a mixture of wild lilies and rain. "Now then," she cooed when the girl had settled comfortably into her lap. "Tell me what's troubling my Chui-penda."
Rachel grinned. For this was one of her favorite Swahili phrases. It was translated into English as "beloved leopard" and Ororo referred to Rachel as such due to the girl's most unusual eyes. Her irises were emerald-green, yet they turned to hazel, even amber, as they extended toward the girl's inky pupils, exactly as those of a leopard would.
"It's Sidney and the triplets," she replied in a sullen, little voice. "They think I'm too small and stupid to play their silly, little games. They pushed me down," Rachel added with a huff.
"Sidney again, eh?" Ororo said, frowning. Rachel had precious few playmates her own age and size, for most of the school's students were not under the age of ten, and she was often teased. Ororo took the girl's face tenderly into her soft, brown hands, examining the slight sprinkling of freckles across the child's nose, almost as indistinguishable as fairy dust.
"Perhaps," she said slowly. "Perhaps it's time I told you about the Blood Rights."
Rachel straightened considerably. Ororo had often mentioned the Blood Rights in passing, but had yet to explain the purpose of the ritual to the child. Just hearing the words made the girl feel lightheaded and giddy. Now, however, she felt very solemn and superior. Not even Sidney and the triplets knew about the Blood Rights!
"Now," Ororo began in a hushed, secretive tone which made her fellow conspirator lean toward the woman in order to catch every word. "The first thing you must understand, child, is that there are two sorts of lions in this world: the lions that hunt and the lions that fight. The lions that fight are, of course, the males and the Goddess knows that they're groomed to do just that from their very youth. Yet the Blood Rights have little to do with those brutes; the ceremony does, however, have almost everything to do with the lion hunters."
"The lionesses!" Rachel squealed in delight.
"Exactly," the woman replied, pleased. "For the lionesses do almost all of the hunting in the pride and it is their consuming passion. They hunt all through the savanna night and, during the scorching heat of the day when they are not sleeping or playing, it is all they can speak of. For they gossip like little birds in the springtime about the drama of life and death played out beneath the silver light of the moon.
"Now, such a high price is placed on a fine huntress that, naturally, a young lioness is quite unhappy until she makes her first kill. For, up to that point, she is still seen as a child in the eyes of the pride. However, when she makes the kill and is anointed by her mother, she is looked upon as a hunter and provider for her pride and family. It is then, and only then, that she may address her betters as "sister" and begin a family of her own, should she choose to do so.
"Now, there was one such lioness by the name of Amelia that had lived out all of her thirteen years of life among her sisters upon the banks of the Mara River. That's quite a long life for a lion and let me assure you, child, she was a huntress to the very core. She lived out her days as a lioness should: with many hunts and many kills and many, trustworthy sisters to flank her sides. There was, however, a flaw in Amelia's seemingly happy existence. For she had difficulty conceiving and what cubs she bore were all stillborn. This was a heartbreaking circumstance for the old lioness, for she was very fond of young things and, above all else, wished for children of her own.
"Now, one day, the lioness was grievously wounded in a struggle with a buffalo. Her sisters were too far afield to hear her pleas for help, so she took refuge within the flags and bulrushes growing upon the riverbank and it was there, child, that she came upon a human babe."
"Did she eat it?" Rachel asked.
"Far from it," Ororo replied. "In fact, the old lioness was quite taken with the child. She took her in and named her Kweu, which means "bright sky". For the girl's eyes were as bright and clear as the summer sky.
"When Amelia had fully recovered," Ororo continued. "She returned to the pride, child in tow, yet her sisters were none so fond of the girl. Her eyes frightened them and whispers of "witch" could often be heard hissed behind Amelia great, golden back. The pride's cubs despised her and the child was mercilessly teased and taunted by the other youngsters. Yet Amelia adored the child and had it not been for her, the pride would have certainly turned on the girl. But the old lioness weighed a fair four hundred and no creature, be it man or beast, felt up to challenging her.
"After all, the lions doubted that any creature so tiny and delicate could possibly survive the rough and tumble of pride life. But the child did survive and, as she grew, the day drew near in which she would make her first kill and be addressed as "sister" by the other lionesses. However, the lionesses were none too eager to initiate any man's child into their sisterhood and, though none were bold enough to insult her to her face, they would engage in rather cruel gossip well within earshot of the girl. And, the Bright Lady knows, little Kweu had excellent hearing.
"For example, a lioness might say, 'In all my days, I have never seen the like.'
'Quite right,' another would sneer. 'A mighty huntress indeed, with teeth as broad and flat as Nyati's. How will she dispatch her quarry, I wonder? Gum it to death, perhaps?'
"The child, perched high in a fever tree, overheard the lionesses' conversation and was deeply grieved. This, of course, was the lionesses' original intention, for, when she dislikes an acquaintance, few creatures can be more unpleasant than a Big Cat. The girl was reduced to tears and no amount of coaxing on Amelia's behalf could lure her down from the fever tree. She might have remained there all day had it not been for a wail originating in the underbrush. A leopardess, freshly killed impala clutched in her jaws, burst forth into the clearing and, with one fluid leap, brushed past the sulking girl and scrambled up the tree. A pair of hyenas came in her wake, sides heaving and cursing at the top of their breath.
"The two leapt frantically at the trunk of the fever tree, but the old leopardess had secured herself and her supper far beyond their reach. 'Damn leopard,' the hyenas snarled. 'Let our supper alone!"
'Supper?!' the leopardess exclaimed incredulously. 'Might my teeth fall out and might all the jackals gnaw upon my bones, supper? Might the gods forgive my poor, feeble mind, this is my supper!'
"And with this, the leopardess lifted a leg and urinated on the pair below."
"Ororo!" Rachel giggled.
"I'm sorry, child," the woman replied, smiling. "That's how the story goes. Either way, the brutes were left with little choice than to vent their frustrations upon one another. And, amid much snapping and cursing, the two disappeared into the long grass from whence they came. The child, meanwhile, had witnessed the proceedings with intense fascination. She gazed up through the branches of the fever tree at the beautiful cat, which straddled a bough as she engaged herself in a leisurely meal.
"Now, the girl had never met a leopard before, let alone speak to one, and she was quite shy. She, however, plucked up her courage and greeted the creature as politely as she knew how. 'Jambo!' she called timidly. 'Good hunting?'
'Well enough, I suppose,' the leopardess replied, studying the child curiously. And with a seemingly effortless spring, the creature was seated composedly beside the girl.
'Such power, such grace, such beauty," the child cried, clapping her hands in delight.
"The leopardess was obviously flattered (for most Big Cats are easily flattered) and began to self-consciously groom a foreleg. 'Well,' she purred. 'We all have our gifts, I suppose. Well it was that my mother named me Jamala. For within all the shadow of Mt. Kilimanjaro, there is not one so beautiful,' she added with little modesty. 'My, my' she continued, studying the child curiously. 'Thou art a man-cub, am I correct?'
'Begging your pardon, madam?' the girl said.
'Thou art a man's child, correct?' she queried patiently.
'I should say not!' the child cried indignantly. 'I am a lion!"
"Now, old Amelia had provided the girl with the very best education a lioness could possibly give her daughter."
"You mean she taught her Algebra and Shakespeare?" Rachel asked.
"Silly girl," Ororo replied, cuffing the child affectionately. "Of course not, a young lion's education consists of Big Game. And, by her twelfth summer, what little Kweu didn't know about Big Game hunting was not worth knowing. She could run about snapping at the heels of a warthog, all the while avoiding its deadly tusks. She knew how to drive an impala without being gored. She even knew (and this was a true test of courage) how to stand her ground against the great Nyati, the buffalo.
"All of this said, the child was quite proud to call herself a lion. She had been told the very same since she was but a babe and had never thought to question it. There were times, however, when she caught sight of a most unusual creature staring back at her when she stooped to sup at the spring or waterhole.
"Jamala purred. 'A lion, eh? If thou art a lion, where is thy tawny pelt? Where is thy long tail and bristling whiskers?'
"Kweu studied her soft, hairless body. 'I simply misplaced them,' she replied defiantly.
'Ayi! Thou art no more a lion than I,' the leopardess said and proceeded to roll on her back and laugh in the manner cats, that is, by purring like the engine of an automobile. Seeing her in such a state, one would never have guessed that she hunted the faint-hearted impala in cold blood, but that she was an overgrown kitten wishing for some kind soul to rub her belly.
'Perhaps you're right,' the girl said miserably. 'Look at me! By the gods, my teeth are flat and my claws are dull,' she cried, thrusting her short, broken nails beneath Jamala's big, black nose. 'How am I to attain the Blood Rights?'
"During the short time in which the leopardess had been acquainted with the child, she had become quite fond of the girl. For the child had awakened maternal instincts within the creature that had long been locked away within her breast. 'Softly now, softly,' Jamala soothed. 'No need for tears, dearest. True enough, thou art lacking in brute strength, yet thy seem a clever wench. Perhaps there is another way.' And, at this point, the old leopardess' tail began to twitch dramatically, something a Big Cat will do when she is thinking very hard.
'How?' the child asked curiously.
'Come with me,' Jamala replied.
"Now, having been reared by lions, the girl was none to fond of direct daylight, for lions are nocturnal creatures. Furthermore, the savanna day in so unbearably hot that any creature worth its salt will curl up in whatever shade can be found and lie like a dead beast until about seven o'clock. Therefore, the girl was loath to follow the old leopardess down from the fever tree and across the grasslands, through thickets of elephant grass, clumps of bamboo, and glades of papyrus. Presently, the pair came upon a rocky hillside, the like in which a mother leopard will shelter her young. Jamala nosed her through the scrub and came upon a crevice in the rock, deftly hidden amongst the brambles and wild roses. There was a rustling from within and out scurried a monitor lizard. He inspected the two with his forked tongue and then scrambled away into the undergrowth. 'There you are,' the leopardess said. 'Go inside. All will be made clear.'
"Kweu was none too fond of tight places. She was a creature of the open savanna, a creature accustomed to stretching out in the clean, fresh grass and dozing beneath the endless sky. Just imagining being crammed into such a tiny niche with little air and sunlight made her pulse quicken and her breathe come in short, uneven gasps."
Ororo shuddered. She was severely claustrophobic.
"The girl shied, but the leopardess was not to be swayed. She nudged the child's haunches and, when the girl struggled, grasped her soft, brown arm in her powerful jaws. 'Don't be such a nyumbu,' Jamala said sternly. 'In I say!'
"At this point, the girl began to scream as the leopardess forced her further and further into the hole, which was really no wider than an aardvark's burrow. Her shrieks turned to howls as she descended into the pit. She began to thrash about frantically. Her lips were flecked with foam and her eyes rolled wildly like a wounded elephant's.
"Just as the girl was about to drive the leopardess insane with her screaming, the burrow widened and began to open into a sort of cavern. The child scratched furiously at the walls of the cave, breaking her nails far beneath the quick in an attempt at escape, searching desperately for any trace of sunlight and fresh air. Old Jamala hovered anxiously over the child who looked absolutely dreadful. Her eyes were glazed with a misty-white film and spittle and foam were oozing out of her mouth. She writhed madly upon the cool, cave floor as the resident bats huddled, frightened, upon the ceiling watching the proceeding below.
"Violet and indigo shapes began to sway lazily upon the cave walls, heralded by a blinding crimson light which flickered madly upon the smooth, worn cavern floor. The girl clutched her knees and shrieked and every bristle on Jamala's back was lifted. Grotesque creatures were approaching; instead of traveling upon four legs like any respectable creature, the monsters traveled upon two. The creatures were made hideous by the bleeding light they wielded with their forelegs. The red plague spread across the cave walls, revealing a tapestry of elusive creatures scrawled upon them. There were solemn elephants, graceful springbok, clever oryx, doe-eyed giraffes, and lithe zebras. And about the creatures, were the horrid two-leggeds and in their forelegs they wielded the crimson light and strange sticks with sharp stones made fast to them. The two-leggeds huddled around their victim and tossed their sticks at the beast. The creature fell, a river of ochre spilling out in its wake.
"Then the cave grew dark. The creatures receded, melting back into the eternal dusk and gloom of the cavern. The riotous bats settled themselves once more and the leopardess ceased her snarling. Seconds later, the child was carried out into the burning white-hot light of midday and lain upon the scalding sand. She, however, took no notice. For she had fallen into a slumber that was more swoon than sleep.
"When she awakened, she found Jamala's face hovering worriedly above her. The old leopardess licked the child's face with her great, rough tongue and the girl sat up and looked about. She felt strangely refreshed. 'Did you see it?' the child asked.
'Nay, but I felt it,' the leopardess growled. 'And I care not to again.'
"The girl put her arm around Jamala's great, golden neck and searched about in the dust. 'Look!' she cried. In her small, slick palm she held a sharp, obsidian stone. It shone liquid ebony, shot through with crimson amber. 'Now I know what I must do!' she exclaimed.
"Now, three moons passed rather quickly and it was soon time for little Kweu's Blood Rights. All parties were feeling somewhat nervous, but none so much as the old lioness Amelia. She paced nervously, back and forth, among the anthills in which she and her sisters gathered to hunt. Dusk was quickly descending; turning the russet savanna to soft mauves and violets, yet still there was no sign of the girl.
'It's a no show,' a lioness snarled. 'The little coward!'
"Just as the words left the lioness' lips, there came a shriek from a nearby acacia thicket and out of the underbrush, covered in blood, came young Kweu. In one hand, she wielded a sturdy stick with the sharp, obsidian stone made fast to the end with sinew and wild hemp and in the other, she grasped the bloodied haunch of a young doe. The creature was still warm.
'Might this stone be a tooth to the pride!' the girl cried, rattling the spear in the faces of the gaping lionesses.
"Yet as her sisters stood speechless, old Amelia's hazel eyes burned with pride. She crept calmly toward her daughter and, dipping her paw in the doe's hot blood, smeared it across the girl's right cheek. 'Might your cubhood memories be fond,' the lioness said softly. 'For thou art a lioness now; welcome to the pride, my sister.'
"And in fear and awe, the lionesses which had so often tormented the child, opened their mouths and roared, 'A lioness! A lioness! God bless the lioness!'
"The next morning, the child went searching for the leopardess, but the leopardess found her instead. The two met beneath an old baobab in which the creature was fond of napping. 'Ayi,' Jamala purred, examining the bloody pawprint upon the girl's cheek, which had now turned to a dark burgundy. 'Thou art a lion now, eh? Then thou art my enemy. But tarry a while longer, cub, I have a present for thee.'
"The child wondered what the old leopardess had to offer her save the spotted skin on her back, but she was too well-bred to sass her elders. Therefore, she waited patiently as the leopardess grappled up the old baobab, turned about, and landed with a swish in the weeds at the base of the ancient tree. The leopardess then spat a small object at the girl's dusty feet. I was a small tooth.
"The girl picked it up and examined it. 'My, my,' she said; it was all she could think of to say.
'It once belonged to my own cub,' Jamala explained. 'She perished in the winter rains, poor child.'
"The girl turned the precious gift of ivory carefully in her hands, yet when she turned to thank the leopardess, the creature had vanished. 'Kwaheri, Chui,' she whispered softly.
"So what happened to the leopard?" Rachel asked.
"Well," Ororo said. "She went on to mother a brood that was the scourge of the countryside all the way from Amboseli to the Maasai Mara."
"And what happened to the little girl?" the child questioned.
From beneath her blouse, Ororo produced a simple, leather string which hung about her neck. At the end, like a star in the heavens, dangled a tiny, ivory tooth. "She's still around," she replied mischievously.
Rachel grinned as the woman removed the simple necklace and draped it carefully around the small girl's neck. "Just remember, little Chui, the leopard is by no means the biggest nor the strongest of the beasts. She is, however, the most cunning."
Rachel, now feeling much better, skipped away to show off her new treasure to Sidney and the triplets. And probably conjure some ridiculous tale of how she wrestled that tooth right out of the leopard's head, Ororo thought, shaking her head.
"By the Bright Lady, if that girl doesn't get more like Jean Grey every day- then I am a jackal's child, which," she concluded absently. "I am not."
Glossary:
Chui- leopard
Nyati- buffalo
Nyumbu- wildebeest
Jambo- hello
Kwaheri- goodbye
Kweu- bright sky
Jamala- beauty
Penda- beloved