“He’s a Mohari that’s for sure, but it’s a little strange for one to be wandering around without his tribe” Ann replied.
“Well, I know that! I’m as asking why he’s up there on that ladder and why is here?” Rolf said exasperated.
“Well let’s find out” Ann said strolling into the crowd.
She didn’t get far when the Mohari man sighted her in the crowd. At the sight of her, he stood still, no longer causing the ladder to sway back and forth. Impossibly, his grin became wider still, stretching his lips to reveal every tooth. In the next moment, he dived off the ladder and bounded over to Ann stepping face to face.
“uhh....young man, you do not bound off in such a way and then force yourself into other person’s space!” Rolf began to lecture.
“Let it go Rolf.” Ann said as the Mohari began to edge away. After her previous travels with a Mohari tribe she was familiar with their lack of interpersonal space, but even this was a bit extreme.
Ruefully Rolf shook his head. “What’s your name boy!? What do your parents call you?”
The Mohari looked around and only shrugged his shoulders and began gesturing to the tattoos that covered his skin.
“It doesn’t work that way Rolf. The Mohari have a different way of naming then you or I” Ann sighed. The crowd of people that had previously trying to get the man to leave the ladder had begun to circle around in curiosity. It was apparent, that most villagers had never seen a Mohari man before and suspected him to be a criminal of some sort.
“I think we should move somewhere else.” Ann said speaking only loud enough for Rolf and the Mohari.
Rolf peered over her shoulder and nodded. “These people need to be getting back to work.” Then louder for the whole crowd to hear, “It’s alright men! We’ll take care of this youngling!”
The crowd muttered and slowly drifted away. They were never very accepting of outsiders, but with only rumors of “Mohari thieves” they were more suspicious than ever.
--A--
Back at Rolf’s bakery, Ann and the two men had finally settled in with a cup for tea for each. Rolf flexing his hands peered down at the young man ready to question him to the end.“Alright, where should we begin, with ya?”
“How about I handle this Rolf.” It was evident the man did not know anything about the culture and identity of a Mohari. Turning to the young man, “What do you call yourself on this day?”
“How’s that any different than what I said?” Rolf said indignantly.
“The Mohari people are not given a name, they choose one and for that matter, it often changes. He answered you truthfully when he started to point at his tattoos. A name for a Mohari is his life and his tattoos are a reflection of every name he is. Their culture is not the same as ours.”
“Oh.”
“Now if you would be quiet for a moment, we might be able to learn something.” The man answered with a huff in reply crossing his arms across his chest.
The young man watching the conversation peered ponderously at the two turning his head from side to side. When he was convinced that nothing else was to be said, he rolled up his sleeve to point at a tattoo on his forearm.
Ann studied the tattoo for a minute or two. Different tribes had developed their own styles to depict the names and events of each person. This style was reminiscent of the tattooist that she had travelled with years before. It didn’t take long for her to decipher the name, but the depiction of the event before the name seemed to be vital part of information.
When she released his arm she frowned and began to ponder quietly in her head.
“Well! What did it say?” Rolf spoke up impatiently.
“He is called Echo.” She said looking at the Mohari for confirmation to which he replied with an enthusiastic nod. “Also, there’s no need to question him too much or rather we can’t.”
“Why not?” Rolf questioned looking first to Ann then to Echo.
The young man, called Echo grimaced and reached his hands to his neck to remove the scarf that clung there. As he pulled away the cloth, Rolf face contorted from disgust to understanding and finally sympathy. Under his scarf, Echo, hid the scarring tissue that had removed his ability to speak. The injury was healed completely, but the sight of it was hard to manage. Once, Echo realized that it was understood; he quickly covered it again before resting his hands down on the table before him.
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