a hand, the man carefully unwound his jura. Long black hair fell from the top of his head and piled on his lap. With two more words, he swept the knife up and through the ties, shearing off his long, beautiful ponytail. He picked up the shorn hair reverently, bowed his head to the ground, and with open hands, offered it to Ren.
Ren looked at the man for a long time, nodded, and held out his hands, palms up, to accept the shorn hair. He spoke a few words, which Mr. Kadam translated for me again.
“I accept your offering. We have all suffered at the hands of the demon. We will punish him for his crimes, including the unforgivable act of depriving you of your family. Your actions against me are forgiven. I return your honor. Go your way with your tribe and find peace.”
The man placed the hair in Ren’s hands and backed away. Next, the gunia had two beautiful Baiga maids brought out before us. They knelt in front of Ren and Kishan. Their dainty hands lay in their laps as they looked demurely at the ground.
The women had long, beautiful, glossy black hair and fine, delicate features. Their trim waists were accented by thin belts made of polished stone. They were curvy in a way I would never be. Both had delicate tattooing running down their arms and legs, which disappeared under the hem of the thin skirts they wore, making me wonder just how much of their bodies were tattooed. I could see why the tattooing was considered attractive. This wasn’t the kind you’d see in America. There were no giant eagles or “I Love Mom” in a heart.
This tattooing was tiny. Whirls, ringlets, curlicues, coils, flowers, leaves, and butterflies trailed down their limbs like the fine border of a picture frame or the scrollwork of a medieval book. The tattoos highlighted the features of the beautiful woman within its margins and accentuated her, making her into an exquisite, otherworldly creature. The gunia spoke, pointing first to one girl and then the other.
Ren rose awkwardly and smiled widely. I stared at him hungrily. I knew it was my disguise that had kept Ren from recognizing me and had caused him to strike out. Now all I wanted to do was wrap my arms around him and get him out of here. Sadly, we all had roles to play. He walked, limping but dignified, around both girls. Then he picked up the hand of one girl, kissed it, and smiled at her. I narrowed my eyebrows in confusion. She smiled shyly up at Ren. Kishan wore a shocked expression, while Mr. Kadam looked grim.
I whispered, “What is it? What’s going on?”
“Wait just a moment, Miss Kelsey.”
Kishan stood and spoke quietly to Ren. Ren folded his arms across his chest and indicated the two women again. Kishan began arguing quietly with his brother. He looked over at me and then at Mr. Kadam as if asking for help. Ren seemed more confused than angry. He asked something that sounded like a question. In response, Kishan gestured adamantly and pointed to the gunia. Ren laughed, touched the hair of the girl, rubbed it between his fingers, and said something to her that made her laugh.
“Are those girls planning to cut off their hair too? I asked.”
Mr. Kadam frowned. “No. I don’t believe so.”
Kishan bowed to the gunia and the two women, said a few words, and then turned his back to Ren and sat down by me again. Ren smiled at the girl, shrugged his shoulders, and sat back down near Kishan.
“Mr. Kadam! What just happened?”
He cleared his throat. “Ah, yes . . . it would appear that the Baiga wish to offer our two sons permanent membership in the tribe.”
“So they’re asking them to join the Baiga club? Okay, so they join. What’s the harm in that?”
“The way they join is to marry two Baiga women. These two sisters have offered themselves to our noble sons.”
“Oh.” I furrowed my brow in confusion. “Then what were Kishan and Ren arguing about?”
“They were arguing about . . . whether they should agree or not.”
“Uh-huh. Then why was Ren touching that woman’s hair?”
“I . . . really couldn’t say.” Mr. Kadam turned aside, obviously unwilling to continue the conversation.
I thought about what I had seen and then elbowed Kishan. “Kishan, if you want a Baiga wife, it’s okay. I mean, if that will make you happy, then go for it,” I