Telesa - The Covenant Keeper (26 page)

Chapter Seven

The next day, Daniel was waiting for me at break. Unfolding himself gracefully from the corridor bench, strolling towards me, “I thought I better feed you today so you can handle our run this afternoon. I don’t want you collapsing with exhaustion. I know you by now – you’re so stubborn that even if I totally wipe you out on the track, you won’t give up. You’ll just run yourself silly trying to catch me.”

I laughed, playfully aiming a punch at his shoulder. He nimbly edged away in the nick of time, well-practiced at evasion from the rugby field, then looped one lanky arm over my shoulders, pulling me close for a kiss on the cheek so light that I could have imagined it. I went hot and cold at his touch.

Unwilling for him to sense the effect he had on me, I made sure I walked several feet away from him as we bought his lunch and found a spot under the
tamaligi
trees. I watched him consume two sandwiches and a muffin while I ate my food prepared from home. He looked speculatively into my lunchbox.

“Hmm, I never knew a girl who brought a lunch to school. You don’t have a Barbie lunchbox somewhere do you? What you got in here anyway?”

“Oh, Nafanua is an organic, green person. Vegetarian and everything from her own land. In here I’ve got taro crab cakes, spicy Thai green papaya salad, some of that
faausi
stuff you Samoans make, and some cut fruit. Want some?”

Daniel looked vaguely horrified. “Nah, I prefer my food drowning in chemicals thank you very much. And preferably with lots of blood.”

“Daniel, what’s a ‘
telesa
’?”

I cringed as I asked the dreaded question, waiting to gauge his reaction. But there was none. He only shrugged, still digging through the lunchbox, sniffing things and making ‘yuck’ faces. There was no embarrassment or horror. Clearly, whatever
telesa
meant, it didn’t have anything to do with prostitute which had been my secret worry.

“It’s a legend. A myth. Eww, Leila, do you really eat this crap?” He had taken a tentative bite of a crab cake and spat it out in his hand emphatically. I grinned up at him. He had a fleck of green on the side of his lip. Daringly, I reached out and wiped it away. He sat motionless while I touched him, regarding me with lazy eyes. I couldn’t tear my eyes away. The scar that cut through one eyebrow, a chipped tooth, the way the wind played in his hair.

“What? What is it?” he demanded, but I shook my head, pulling my hand away and rushing to speak about something, anything – except for the electric wire that pulled me to him no matter how hard I tried to remain distant.

“So tell me about these legends, anyways?” I asked lightly.

“Well, apparently there are these insanely beautiful women who watch over certain areas, like a particular river, or pool or forest. They have some kind of strange powers and can put curses on people who mess up their areas. Or don’t show them enough respect.

I felt coldness in the sunlight. His words cutting through the lightness of the day.
Telesa
. Beautiful women. Aunty Matile’s fear, tears,
telesa, telesa, telesa
. I shook them away. Ridiculous. It was ridiculous. Foolish legends and myths. I shook myself away from the dread and pushed further.

“But what are they? What do they do?”

“Hmm, I don’t know a lot about it.”

“I mean – are they ghosts? Spirits? Demons? What?”

Daniel laughed at my serious tone. “Hey, it’s just a legend remember? And I’m not big on legends.”

“Please? Just tell me as much as you know then.”

“Alright, well they’re not spirits or ghosts. They’re like real people, like us but they’ve got supernatural powers I think. They put curses on people when they get annoyed with them. Oh, and they hate pretty girls. Who flaunt their beauty.”

“What do you mean?”

“When I was little, our neighbor was this old lady, Silulu. She used to sit in the front of her house and whenever a young woman walked past with her hair down, or with a flower in her ear, Silulu would yell out to her to “go home! Put your hair up! Get that flower off! Or
telesa
will punish you!” I think it was just a way to make sure girls stayed out of trouble, you know? A way to keep girls humble. But I never took much notice of those tales and I don’t think any of the girls I grew up with did either. It was just old stories.”

“What else?”

Daniel furrowed his brow in concentration and thought for a moment. “They prey on handsome men that are foolish enough to trespass on their territory. They particularly prefer men with light hair and green or blue eyes …
palagi
-looking ones.” He fluttered his laughing eyes at me. “If one catches their eye, they entrance him using their special powers, have their way with him and then KILL him. OR if they take pity on him, they let him go free, wandering off in a daze.”

I gave him a suspicious look. “You just made that up!”

He protested, laughing, “No I didn’t. Honest! That was a big part of the legends, as I recall. When I was little, Mama used to take me to certain forest areas to gather her plants and she would always cover my hair and wrap my face with a
lavalava
. Because she said
telesa
liked to steal fair-skinned little boys. So they would grow up and be their slaves.” He laughed and shook his head at the memory, “The things Mama would do to get me to stay close to her and not run off! Freaking me out with wild stories. But hey, you gotta admit that if
telesa
existed, I would be in real big trouble.”

I had to smile. “Oh really? And why is that?”

He pretended to preen and pose, “Well, just look at me! My green eyes, my fair coloring, my super-hot physique – not to mention my legendary debate skills – they all add up to the perfect prize for a
telesa
.” He was straight faced but his eyes danced.

I looked down my nose at him disdainfully “Oh really? I’ve got news for you. If I was a
telesa
, I wouldn’t take a second look at you.” I shook my head emphatically. “Uh uh, nah. Not a glance your way at all. Sorry.”

“You don’t say? Hmm, so what would I have to do before you would put me on your lure and kill list huh?” He jumped to his feet, scattering sandwich wrappers everywhere. “How about if I took off my shirt, hmm? Would you consider me then?” Swiftly, he unbuttoned his shirt and took it off. Thankfully he had a white singlet on underneath, but still…

“No – Daniel – stop it! People are looking!” Laughing, I tried to give him back his shirt.

“No my feelings are hurt! I need to know what lengths I have to go to so I can be considered by the insanely beautiful
telesa
woman. I know, how about if I do this!” Triumphantly, he tugged his singlet over his tousled head and, as if the sight of his amazing body in all its muscular glory wasn’t enough, he jumped on the bench and struck a body-building pose.

There were loud cheers and catcalls at his performance from the crowd of students by the canteen.

“Woohoo! Go Danny-boy – take it
aallll
off! Yeah!”

“Show her what you got, Danny!”

The loudest jeers came from his team mates. I groaned in disbelief and shut my eyes, shaking my head at his goofiness. I hissed at him.

“Daniel – get down before you fall over and hurt yourself … you … big show off!”

“No, not until you tell me what it’ll take for you to hunt me down. I know! This has got to work.”

To my horror, he started undoing the ties on his
lavalava
.

“What the heck are you doing! Stop it. Stop it! Ohmigosh.” I was left speechless as he whipped off the
lavalava
, baring his muscular thighs - in their drawstring rugby shorts. Whew, what a relief…

It seemed now as if the entire school was enjoying the spectacle of their Head Boy doing a strip in the middle of the lunch area. Still laughing helplessly, I grabbed his hand and pulled him down to sit beside me again, trying to ignore the fascinated crowd.

“Okay, okay, so you win – you are disgustingly handsome – not to mention a huge show off – and any
telesa
would be absolutely
desperate
to have her way with you!”

“But what about
this
insanely beautiful
telesa
?” His tone was light but his eyes were serious. I caught my breath and tried to still my accelerating pulse. Where a moment ago we had just been two people playing, now we had strayed into far more treacherous territory. His lips were far too close to my ear for me to keep an unruffled composure and
his now-naked chest gleaming in the afternoon sun, light playing on every muscular curve and ripple, certainly didn’t help. The spectators, the school yard, the heat of the day – everything faded to a distant blur and it was just Daniel and I in a taut shell of questions. Daniel’s voice dropped to a whisper, “Would you?”

“Would I what?”

“Choose me?”

Our gaze met, caught, and held like coconut fibre rope that braided stronger with each shared breath. I nodded, hardly daring to speak. “Yes. I would.”

Who knows what would have happened next. If the bell hadn’t gone. Reminding us both where we were. I stood up and started packing away my things while Daniel put his shirt back on.

There was a disappointed jeer from the canteen crowd. “Awwwww Danny, is the show over?”

He smiled at them all and stood to take a bow at them before wrapping his
lavalava
around his hips.

I shook my head at him ruefully. “I can’t believe you just did that! I mean – I thought you were supposed to be all grown up and mature and responsible … not this … impetuous cheeky jock.”

He shrugged. “I like to make you laugh. To see you smile. You don’t do that enough.”

My pulse leapt at the softening of his eyes as he gazed at me thoughtfully, my heart rejoicing at the emotion I saw reflected there. Only a few short months ago – I had not believed such happiness was possible. Yet here I was, in a sea of shocking orange and yellow, with the brilliant tropical sun blazing overhead, a light breeze caressing my face – and beside me, the most amazing boy professing his concern for my happiness. I wished I could freeze frame this moment and keep it forever. I studied every contour of his profile, every strand of hair, every mark on his skin – wanting to commit him to memory. Just in case.

We parted, but not before Daniel reminded me not to chicken out of our race that afternoon.

* * * *

Sunset tinged the horizon as we finished our run. My lungs were filled to bursting, adrenaline pumping, muscles aching from the exertion. It had been so long since I had trained that my body was positively singing its delight at the return to the track. I mentally kicked myself for staying away from what my body knew and loved, knowing full well it would make me pay for it tomorrow. But for now, I would just exult in the sheer thrill that sprinting always gave. Daniel shook his head at me as we walked slowly to cool down, his tone accusing.

“You chose ten laps for us on purpose, so you could get me tired before the sprint at the end. You didn’t tell me how fit you were.”

I smiled in answer. “You never asked. Besides, if I had told you, then maybe you would have been too chicken to run with me today. I think I saw you struggling to keep up there for a few laps.”

“Oh whatever, I was holding back. You know, didn’t want to hurt your feelings by leaving you in the dust and all.”

“Really? Well, next time don’t worry about my feelings. I’ve run enough races that I can handle competition. That is – if you think you’re man enough to risk losing a race to a girl!”

“Actually, I
was
a bit stretched on that last lap there. I was surprised. Next time we better come and race in the middle of the night when nobody’s watching. It just wouldn’t do for the competition to hear the SamCo team captain got beat in a race by a girl!” he laughed at the idea, shaking his head. “You should definitely go for the athletics team when we have the inter school competition. There aren’t many girls fit enough to run long distance in Samoa.”

I checked to see if he was making fun of me, but his eyes held only admiration as he turned to look at me. “How long have you been running?”

“A while. My dad was a running buff. He would try to do two marathons a year. He used to joke that he started running when he was a teenager so he could get as far away as possible from his mom. She didn’t like that joke. And she hated him running. Thought it was dangerous. Was always cutting out news articles of people getting hit by cars when they were out running. Anyways, he started taking me with him to the track when I was a kid and it just grew from there. When he was on assignment, he would be away for weeks at a time. It would be just me and Margaret. That’s the housekeeper,” I added in answer to his questioning look. “I didn’t have much else to do besides school work, so I would run every day by myself. Just me and my iPod and the road. Ugh, Grandmother hated that too. But when Dad was home, we would drive to different cities every weekend to go in fun runs. Everything from 5k to half marathons. Just for fun – not racing hard out. Those weekends were the best.” I lit up at the memory. “We would stay in a motel, order our favorite takeout, catch a movie. If it was on the coast, we’d go to the beach. The next day, we’d do the run, Dad would take lots of photos of the before and after. Then we’d explore the place a bit. He’d make me go to a museum or a gallery … always trying to force feed me some culture and refinement. Then we’d head back home and it would be back to reality.” I sobered at the reminder. Of reality. My reality.

“And what was reality like?” Daniel prompted.

“Ah nothing much. Just school and boring stuff like that.” I waved away his question, unwilling to delve any deeper into memories I worked hard to suppress, jumping instead to change the topic. “So you think I’d have a chance on the athletics team?”

He shook his head once at my question before answering, as if to tell me that he was well aware I was wriggling out of a sensitive subject. “Definitely. Not many people run in this country. Especially not long distance. We’re rugby fanatics. And netball players. If you wanted to try it here, I doubt you’d have much competition. From anyone in our school, or any other school for that matter.”