MAD A Free Man

Belief is the hardest magic to break. Arge took its name from the colorful flowers around it. This village had a river on one side and a forest on the other. Hundreds of different kinds of birds, bears, foxes, deer and gazelle as well as wild boar lived in the forest. Villagers, who hunted for food and clothing in the forest, considered it holy and blessed territory. They mined iron on the hills of the east bank of the river. The river drew the borders of the village as it ran north to south. The villagers cultivated a few acres of land near the river as an orchard. The village fed itself by fishing during drought or cold winters. Perhaps because of the prosperity of the people, no one knew when the village had been established. Twenty houses, which were built of stones coated with clay, were scattered randomly. Most houses had only one large room. The temple in the village square was built bigger than the houses. The temple’s foundation was about as tall as a human and shaped somewhat like a pyramid. It was built on its foundation as a one-story building of adobe bricks. The double doors in the front had a figure of a fat woman with saggy breasts, on each side. The full view of the village and its surroundings was easy to see from the entrance of the temple. Summers were always very hot in this town. During the summer, people either rested under the shade of the trees or swam in the river. Some also fished in the river with handmade fish traps. Children’s happy voices were always heard in the village as they freely ran around and played all day long. The ovens built on the ground were used collectively by the village people for baking their hard loaves. One day, while a bunch of women were baking and talking, a woman with a child in her arms ran to the temple. Most of the villagers followed them. An old woman with wrinkled skin came out of the temple’s door. Her long, white hair was tied behind her head, and she wore necklaces of stone and bones. She raised her baton to silence the crowd and asked, “What’s the matter?” The young woman carrying the child climbed the steps to the temple and beseechingly cried, “Ram! Mad is dying. He was bitten by a snake!” The old woman took the child who looked to be about seven years old. The mother felt so helpless that she said, “Please ask the goddess to cure him. If she does, I’ll dedicate him to her.” The old woman took the child into the temple and closed the door. As no one except the old one could enter the temple, the young mother stayed behind crying and praying. After a long wait, the doors of the temple opened and the old woman brought the child back. His mother cut short her prayers and ran to her son. She kissed the hands of the woman; her child was well. The mother raised the child over her head for the crowd to see. The old woman started to tell the crowd what had happened inside: “I went before the Goddess Ninhursag’s sculpture with the child, and placed him in front of her. After my prayers in prostration, the stone sculpture started to move. As the goddess’ eyes widened, the light shining out of them lit up the temple like the sun. I lost consciousness as the goddess flooded the temple with light. Her light took over the child’s motionless body. The goddess ordered me to bring the child to her, so I did. As I shivered on the floor, the goddess moved her hand over his body. She held her hand on his heart for a spell. The skin over his heart opened, and his heart sparked like lightning and began to work again. “Amazingly, the skin started to cover his body again as the goddess told him to open his eyes. She told me that he belongs to the temple. As she turned back into a sculpture, her light in the temple also vanished.” Old Ram continued, “As you can see, the Goddess Ninhursag cured the child and showered him with her power. Now it’s his mother Tara’s turn to give him to Ninhursag.” The crowd prostrated with shouts of, “Ninhursag.” After the ritual, Ram went back into the temple and closed the doors behind her. Tara took her son back to their cottage, which was one room with no windows. A sheet of leather was used as a door to the cottage, which had a little stove called a tifik. She kissed her son several times before letting him go. She checked the clay pot for milk and forced him to drink some. Mad left the cottage after drinking the milk. His mother didn’t try to stop him but warned him, “Stay away from the snakes and don’t go far from the village square! I’m coming soon!” Tara took her spindle and some sheep wool when Mad left. She wanted to forget her worries by spinning, but she soon left the cottage after Mad. The women around the oven were still baking bread and grinding wheat and barley between two round stones. Fermented dough was baked in these clay stoves. Tara looked around for Mad as she approached the ovens. Since she didn’t see him, she went to Iber. “Where is Mad?” “He is in the stable playing with the other children,” Iber replied. Tara went to the large cottage, which was used collectively as a stable. The villagers kept a few sheep, goats and cows there. Although the wooden doors were closed, she could hear the voices of children. Once inside, she saw Mad running around the animals. She called to him, “Baby, come! Let’s eat when the bread is fresh.” “I’m not hungry, Mom. I’ll eat after the game.” “I’ll be around the ovens. Don’t be late.” When Tara went back to the square, she didn’t feel like baking. So she sat down and started spinning. Iber, wanting to share her best friend’s worries, said, “I was very afraid today.” “Don’t remind me! I was so scared of losing my baby,” Tara replied. “Mad is very naughty! You should keep a close eye on him.” “From now on I’ll watch him like a hawk. I can’t live without him!”

Three months later, the weather was brutally cold. The villagers constantly carried wood from the forest. They stacked it in their houses all the way to the roof. During the cold days and nights they kept fires in their clay braziers, and family members lay down next to each other on leather sheets on the floor. Tara, who slept with Mad, got up to kindle the fire in the icy cottage. She rubbed her shoulders with her hands to try and warm up. She brought some wood from the stack and stirred the ashes, then put thin wood slivers into the brazier. The smoke burned her eyes, but she kept working as she coughed, and wiped the tears from her eyes. Finally, crimson flames were kindled. She woke Mad up as the cottage began to warm. He came close to the fire with sleepy eyes and little cold hands. She caressed his head, and they started pushing each other in a playful mood. Mad was her third child. She’d had a girl and a boy before him, but they had both died as infants. When they were dying, Goddess Ninhursag hadn’t been able to save them. When Mad was two years old, his father Saart had a hunting accident. A wild boar chased and attacked him. The animal’s sharp teeth took Saart’s leg off at the knee. It was too late when the other hunters arrived. He only lived for a month after the accident. Tara took care of him and prayed in front of the temple every night for long hours. She tried to console herself by thinking the gods must know something, when Ninhursag again couldn’t help her. She never had another man after her husband’s death, because she had loved him so much. She preferred to live with Mad and her memories. After putting aside these sad memories, Tara asked, “Are you hungry?” Mad nodded. “Yes.” Tara pushed her long, black hair back and walked to the cottage door. She shivered in surprise when she opened the leather door. Although it was cold, Ram was standing silently in front of her. Startled, she ran back inside. She took Mad in her arms as she covered them with the leather blanket on the floor. They were breathing heavily under the cover, but they could hear Ram’s voice clearly. Each time Ram shouted, “Tara,” she answered a whispered, “No.” After a while, Tara was alarmed by the silence. She pulled the leather cover aside fearfully. To be sure Ram was gone, she listened carefully. She went to the cottage door with Mad in her arms, took a deep breath and opened the door timidly. She walked half way around the outside of the cottage. Ram wasn’t there. When she looked at the temple, she saw Ram standing there with her baton, looking at them. Tara turned back angrily and went into the cottage. She held her baby tightly and sat near the fire. As she stared at the flames with saddened eyes, her entire life passed through her mind. She couldn’t take her eyes off Mad for the rest of the day, as she feared if she looked away he’d be gone. Because of these fears it was almost a week before they left the cottage, and every time she took a step out, the first thing she did was check for Ram. Days later, Tara was watching Mad scare the birds in front of the cottage. She was so pre-occupied that she didn’t notice Ram approach. When Ram yelled at her, she hurried and picked up Mad. Because she knew why Ram had come, she told her to go away. Then she threatened her. “You old witch! Go away or I’ll kill you!” Ram replied with her weak voice, as though she were talking from her stomach, “You offered Mad to the goddess when he was dying of snake bite, and the goddess accepted him. Why do you object now?” Keenly aware of her helplessness, Tara said, “I thought he would die like the others.” But no excuse could stop the necessity of the moment. The end result was important. “But he didn’t die.” “Let the goddess bring back my husband and my other children and keep them. But I don’t want to give Mad to her. Go away! Or I’ll kill you!” Tara who no longer could harness her anger took a stone and threw it at Ram to scare her. Ram barely protected herself from it. She turned around in astonishment and left. Tara watched her enter the temple. Tara didn’t sleep well that night because of the psychological warfare. She awoke often to check on Mad. This pattern lasted for a month. Tara quit gathering and hunting. The villagers were aware of her worries. When they tried to share firewood and game from the forest with her, she refused them out of pride. But they understood her behavior and started to secretly leave things she needed at her door. Tara had another worry besides giving Mad to the temple. The goddess could kill Mad if she wished, and Tara couldn’t do anything to stop it. Ninhursag had spared Mad’s life because he was promised to the temple. Therefore, if Tara didn’t hold her promise, Ninhursag would kill him. What could she do? Such worries and conflict made her angry. Instead of losing him forever, giving Mad to the temple seemed more rational. As time passed, her tension increased. Such thoughts inclined her to give Mad to the temple. But wasn’t there another solution? Why did she feel so lonely and helpless? Perhaps surrendering Mad to the temple as soon as possible was a requirement of her love. But she had resisted this idea for so long that changing her mind now was something her pride couldn’t tolerate. Also, what would she do without Mad? Who would she hug at night? She murmured, “What if the Goddess kills him?” as she put another log on the brazier.

Tara was cooking fish she had caught in the river. She gave a piece of cooked fish to Mad and ate a piece herself, too. But her body was so tense with worry that she couldn’t swallow her food. She angrily spat it out, as she heard Ram calling her. She opened the leather door and fearfully challenged Ram, “What do you want, old witch? Would you give your own children? Tell Ninhursag to take someone else’s child. They all have five, ten kids. What do you want with my only baby?” Ram knew Tara was talking with a mother’s instinct, but tried to persuade her that bad things could affect everyone if she didn’t surrender the boy to the temple. “Nobody wanted your baby. He was dead. So you offered him to Ninhursag. And Ninhursag accepted him and gave him life. Now he belongs to her. Do you want her to regret giving him life? Do you want her to take it back?” Tara looked down at Mad, who was clinging to her knees, without understanding anything. She pulled Mad inside and closed the door. They sat silently around the fire. That night Tara didn’t sleep. In the silence of the early morning, Tara climbed the stairs of the temple with Mad bundled up in her arms. When she came to the temple door, it opened by Ram. She was waiting for them. “Finally,” Ram said. Tara carefully placed the boy in Ram’s arms without uttering a word and quickly left the temple. Later, when Tara walked out of her cottage again, the sun was high and the hunters had already left for the forest. She thought of leaving the village for a while, so Mad could adjust to his new life. The villagers generally stayed three or four days in the forest when they went hunting. It was dangerous in the forest. They were often attacked by wild animals. Some had died and some had been seriously wounded. That was why they hunted in groups. Tara caught up with the hunting group. Everyone was happy to see that she seemed to have come to terms with the situation. This was her first time back on a hunting party since Mad was bitten by a snake. Some of the villagers couldn’t refrain from shedding tears. Except for one man, Caf, everybody tried to support her morale. Caf had a loose mouth. He always said things he didn’t mean. He blurted out, “Because of you and your baby, Ninhursag has almost punished us!” Iber, a masculine-looking woman, put her spear against Caf’s chest and yelled, “Coward! If we had known you were such a pussy, we would have taken your wife hunting instead.” Caf walked away silently. Everyone laughed at him. Even Tara, after all she had been through, laughed. She pointed at Caf and said, “Let’s hunt Caf instead of the animals!” This triggered a roar of laughter in the hunting group, as they disappeared into the depths of the forest.

The temple was lit by light beams streaming in from holes cut out of the roof. Mad noticed his strange environment and started to explore his surroundings. Ram was cleaning ashes out of the burner when Mad quietly approached her. “You woke up!” she said. Pointing at a seat, she added, “Come and sit.” Mad felt lonely as he didn’t see his mother and asked, “Where is my mother?” As Ram sensed the shyness of the child, she answered in a tone full of understanding. “Your mother left but will be back. Until then, you’ll stay with me.” With a heart full of sudden fear, Mad went to the door crying, “Mom, Mom ...” He couldn’t open the door no matter how hard he tried. Attempting to divert his attention, Ram showed him her colorful necklace made of beads and bones. “Come to me; I’ll give you my necklace.” As she held his hand and tried to pull the child near the fire, Ram realized he was stubborn. She decided to try another method and said, “Well then. Let’s go out and look for your mother.” Before she had completely lifted the first crossbar of the door, Mad dashed out. Ram couldn’t catch up with him as he ran from the temple’s steps to his cottage in the village square. He searched everywhere in the cottage but couldn’t find his mother. He checked under every leather sheet. His mother wasn’t there, and he started crying. As far back as he could remember, his mother had never left him alone without telling him. But this time was different, and he felt the strangeness of the situation. “Where did she go? Will I ever see her again?” To stop his cries, Ram put her hands on his shoulders and said, “Don’t worry, baby. She will come back in a few days.” She put one of her necklaces around his neck and wiped his tears with the edge of her leather garment. She decided to take him back to the temple. Although he was still crying, he didn’t resist her anymore. When they reached the steps of the temple, his mood changed again. He started crying frantically and wanted her to carry him. Old and weak as she was, Ram knew she could hardly climb the steps by herself, let alone with a child in her arms. She begged Ninhursag to give her strength as she tried to carry the child. She was amazed she finally made it without falling. Feeling self-confident, she continued carrying the child into the temple. She put Mad on a seat near the fire and told him to wait as she left to get some food for him. Finally, Mad calmed down and stopped crying. When Ram came back with a piece of meat, she looked around, but Mad was gone. She was terrified when she finally found him on the lap of the Goddess Ninhursag in a dark corner of the temple. She ran to Ninhursag and pulled Mad down. “Hey you, Tara’s son! How did you get up there? Be thankful that Ninhursag didn’t kill you!” she scolded him. Mad didn’t understand her anger. Back by the fire he thought, Grown-ups don’t like playing like children. Ram picked up the pieces of meat she had dropped on the floor and tried her best to clean them with her hands. After cutting smaller pieces, she put them on the iron skews and started to cook them. Mad thought about his mother again. She cooked this way also. He took one of the skews as he had with his mother. His childish efforts at cooking made Ram smile; she forgot her anger and shook her head. Mad smiled back as he imitated the way she shook her head. Finally they made up. Ram stroked his hair and he seemed happy. After eating the meal Ram worshiped while Mad played with the necklace. They didn’t leave the temple again that day. At every chance Ram kept an eye on Mad. Watching him started to make her feel happy. After so many long years, there was someone in the temple besides herself. After the sun set, Mad kept looking at the doorway waiting for his mother, as he felt tired and sad. From time to time he asked, “Will my mother come?” “Of course, she will.” “When?” “In two or three days!” “Two or three?” “I don’t know.” Mad changed the subject and said, “I’ll show my new necklace to my friends tomorrow.” Ram thought all children are the same. “Okay, come to sleep now,” she said. “Will my mother come when I wake up?” Perhaps he was different from other children. “Be patient, my child.” Mad’s eyes closed before she had finished her sentence. All children are the same, she thought. Ram watched him as she covered him snuggly. He was a charming and beautiful child. He had a round face, pale skin and long, black hair like Tara. Tara took care of him well. Ram felt tired, too, so she lay next to Mad. After a deep sigh, she put her head on her arm and slept. Ram felt some weight and pressure on her neck when she awoke. She noticed that Mad had wrapped his arms around her in his sleep. He must sleep with Tara this way, she thought. She liked that thought. She didn’t want to wake him up as she knew he would start asking about Tara. Therefore, she lay motionless with her eyes open next to him. When Mad awoke, he jumped up and asked, “Has my mother come?” “No, not yet,” Ram said. He closed his eyes and started to cry. But this time it was a reluctant cry. When Ram cleared his tears with her old fingers, he stopped crying. She took him by the hand, and they walked to the temple’s door. They went outside to watch the people. Mad shouted, “Dawi,” when he saw the children playing tag and ran to play with them, but the children stopped playing when he approached. He showed them his new necklace and tried to tell them something exciting about the temple. After a brief break, the children started to play again. This time Mad joined them, chasing the others and running away from them. After a while Ram came and told him, “Let’s go to the temple.” He wasn’t ready. It wasn’t easy to be in a house for hours with an old woman, especially for a child. So he said: “I’m not coming. I want to play with Dawi.” When Ram forcefully tried to take him to the temple, Mad broke away as the children watched. As old as she was, Ram had to chase him around amongst the other children. She scolded him, “Don’t be so hard-headed! Come here.” Mad was right from his own standpoint because his game was interrupted. But being stubborn was useless. Ram wasn’t an easy quitter. He knew how stubborn she was. “Let me go! My mother will be upset with you! I want to play. I want my mother,” he shouted. Ram also had someone she leaned on in this small village. “And you will see Ninhursag’s anger! If Ninhursag had wanted you to play like other kids, she wouldn’t have invited you to the temple.” Mad thought of Ninhursag as older and more stubborn than even Ram. To measure the danger, he asked, “Who is Ninhursag?” with childish curiosity. “The goddess you played with yesterday in the temple.” “That fat woman?” “She is not a woman. She is a goddess.” “Would she do anything bad to me?” “No, she wouldn’t. I just said that to scare you. She protects us.” “Can she protect me from snakes?” “Of course!” Mad was persuaded so he followed her to the temple. They entered and walked around the fireplace. Ram tossed in a few logs and blew into the fire to ignite the wood. Her eyes were shrunken and narrow as she blew into the fire. She touched Mad’s hands and told him to warm them by the blazing fire. She was afraid he might get sick. “I’ll go get something to eat,” she said. “I’ll come with you,” the child insisted. “No, you stay here.” Ram left the temple and went to one of the cottages in the village square. In a short time, a man with a piece of meat came out and handed it to Ram. She raised the piece of meat and her baton to the sky and started to pray. The man turned his face to the temple and prayed as well. Leaving the cottage, Ram saw Mad watching her at the temple’s steps. She scolded him, “Why are you outside in the cold?” Instead of answering her, he asked, “Did he give you meat?” “Yes.” “Why? Are you also pregnant?” She thought she knew why he had asked that question. Perhaps he had learned that pregnant women received some meat from hunters in the village. They didn’t go out again that day as the meat was enough for them. Most of the villagers also stayed in their cottages on that cold winter day. Beside worship, Ram had the arduous challenge of answering hundreds of Mad’s questions. “Why do you prostrate yourself in front of a sculpture?” “I worship that way.” “What is worship?” “I pray to Ninhursag to protect us and feed us.” “Does Ninhursag have a spear?” “No.” “How does she protect us?” “She has magic. She protects us with magic.” “What is magic?” “Magic is believing. Believing in her protects us.” “Why do people call you a witch?” Mad’s questions never ended. Ram answered them, because she liked his childish curiosity. The purpose of the child’s being in the temple was to teach him anyway. “I’m not a witch. I’m a servant to the temple.” “Do you have a mother?” “Yes, I did, but she died.” “Does Ninhursag have a mother?” “No.” “Does she have children?” “No. She doesn’t have anyone.” Instead of answering individual questions, Ram decided to tell him a short story. She stared at the fire and started: “The servant before me said that a long time ago, a fireball fell into the forest from the sky. The hunters went to see the fallen fireball. A big rock had made a huge hole on the forest floor. It’s still there. The hunters broke the rock and considered the colorful smoke that came out of the rock as a sign. “Some nights later, someone had a dream in which a fat woman entered into the rock they had broken into pieces. She was very relaxed as she went inside the rock. “The hunters who heard this dream brought the rock into the village. They made a sculpture out of it and built a temple to make her happy. They named her Ninhursag. That year the harvest was very good, nobody died in the village, and there were no miscarried babies. The villagers discovered the iron mine in the hills.” Ram noticed Mad had fallen asleep. Perhaps he hadn’t heard any of the story. She lay next to him in deep thought until she finally drifted off to sleep. Early in the morning, they awoke and gathered near the fire. Mad’s voice was shaky on this the third day without Tara. “Is my mother coming today?” “Maybe today or tomorrow.” “I miss my mother so much.” Ram pulled Mad close and hugged him. He wrapped his arms around her skinny body, too.

A group of hunters crawled toward the wild horse herd trying not to scare them. They were right behind the trees at the pointed end of the forest. They charged the horses after they had gotten as close as they possibly could. The horses started to run wildly, afraid of the hunters. The hunters threw their long, narrow leather lassos at the stampeding horses. The black horse trying to escape Tara slowed because of the trees in its way. The beast was looking for an escape route. Tara used the horse’s moment of hesitation to throw her lasso. She got the lasso around the horse’s neck, but the animal was nervous and very strong. He reared, neighed and dragged Tara around on the forest floor. The other hunters ran to help her when they saw her struggling with the horse. In a short time, three lassos were around the horse’s neck. Tara finally stood up, wounded and bleeding from cuts and abrasions all over her body. The relentless beast kicked the air with his back legs as the hunters tried to control him. The animal calmed down from sheer exhaustion. Tara, who thought the horse was in control, handed her lasso to Iber and walked toward the wild beast. The animal moved back and forth as if leery of her approach. She jumped on his back quickly as she grabbed at his mane. The animal went crazy. But she held on tight, just as stubborn as the wild beast himself. The second time he reared, Tara found herself on the ground. The hunters let out a delighted guffaw. She was aggravated but determined. After eight attempts she still hadn’t been successful, and the laughter of the hunters had become very irritating. Her wounds were bleeding, and her bones were painful. In fact, if it hadn’t been for Iber, she wouldn’t have been able to stand up after the last fall. Iber led her to a log to sit down and rest. The hunters tied the horse to a sturdy tree. They used their flintstones to start a fire and cook as everyone was very hungry. They cooked for lunch the meat of their prey. Iber passed a large slice of well-cooked meat to Tara, who stretched before the fire. She thought she didn’t deserve a meal and refused to eat. After Iber’s insistence, she chewed the meat slowly. The hunters sat around the fire, with full stomachs, debating what to do with the captured horse. Tara kept cleaning her wounds as she looked angrily at the hunters. They usually spent the night around the warmth of the fire, before returning to the village in the morning. Tara could see the horse from where she lay. She got up slowly and went close to the animal. She checked on the sleeping hunters once more and then patted the animal’s hair. She asked, “Why? Why?” She tiptoed back to her place in the camp and took something from her leather bag. She went back and fed the chestnuts to the horse and stroked him gently. The animal finished off the chestnuts and an initial trust developed between them. A pair of bright eyes was watching Tara sadly. Iber went to sleep shortly after Tara did.