Misconceptions

"My mother."

Kalinkey looked up from her mortar and pestle, and smiled at the young woman. "What is it, Lissa?"

Her daughter knelt opposite the healer of the Omaticaya. In the last year, Lissa had grown taller than her mother. Kalinkey reflected that if her daughter had been born tawtute, she would have been called a strapping young woman, with broad shoulders and slim hips.

In fact, she spent much of the time with the young men of the clan, who treated her as though she was one of their brothers, rather than learning the skills of the women of the clan. Kalinkey thought much of it was her fault, for not discouraging her from following her older brother everywhere.

Still, she was a fine hunter, just like her father, and had applied herself assiduously to learning the craft of the healer as well. In fact, Kalinkey was proud of her daughter – even though she had no interest in the craft of numbers that meant so much to her mother.

"I wanted to ask you something," said Lissa, her voice tentative.

It was most unlike Lissa. She was always forthright and direct, just like her father. In fact, sometimes a little too like her father, although Kalinkey was no great shakes in subtlety either. Kalinkey replied, "You know you can ask me anything, my daughter."

"I wanted to know if you could, um…"

"If I could what?" demanded Kalinkey.

In a very small voice, Lissa touched her nose and said, "If you could make this smaller."

Kalinkey was gobsmacked, and could not make a reply. No Na'vi had ever made a request like this before, not of her, nor of any healer.

"All the clans know that you are a great surgeon, even better than your sister Zha'nelle," she said, using the 'Ìnglìsì term for a healer and cutter of flesh, and rushing her words together. "Surely you could use your knife to make my nose smaller. Last year, you straightened Niri´te's nose after he broke it falling off his pa'li, and it is now smaller than it was."

"Niri´te was having problems breathing, which is why I operated," replied Kalinkey. "There is nothing wrong with your nose." In fact, Kalinkey thought her daughter's nose – a slimmer, more feminine version of her father's strongly aquiline nose – lifted her face from being merely pretty into striking, even though she did not conform to the classic view of Na'vi beauty.

"But it's so big," wailed Lissa. "And I'm so ugly."

"Spirit is everything, body is nothing," snapped Kalinkey. It had taken long enough to get her mate Tsawlontu to understand this, even though he was Na'vi born. Otherwise, he would never have learned to use his prosthetic hand, the one that replaced the hand he lost at the battle of Vitraya Ramunong.

Actually, it had been her sister Zha'nelle who had broken down his barriers, not Kalinkey, a matter for which she would be forever grateful.

"Our family knows this saying better than that of any other Omaticaya," she added. It then crossed Kalinkey's mind that there had to be some reason for this turn of events. Lissa had never complained about her nose before, not in all her life. More gently, she took her daughter's hands between her own and asked, "Is there a young man?"

"Oh, sa'nu," cried her daughter, now in tears. "He takes no notice of me, not as a woman. Instead, he teases me, and calls me as Tsawlontu'ite. If I was pretty, perhaps…"

"Who is this young man?" interrupted Kalinkey, cursing in her mind the cruelty of the young. Daughter of Big Nose – a terrible thing to call a sensitive young woman, even if it was a truthful name. "I could talk to his parents, and see if we can improve his behaviour." It wasn't the only reason that she had for talking to his parents. Often, she had observed, young men were shy, and hid their shyness behind a teasing façade – particularly if they were interested in the young woman they teased. She could sort out this mess efficiently, by finding out if there was any interest on behalf of the young man.

"He doesn't h-have p-parents," sobbed Lissa.

Kalinkey frowned. She knew everyone in the clan, and all their relationships back to their great-grandsires, and there was no unmarried young man who was an orphan. A suspicion crept into her mind – there was one clan where nearly all were without parents. "Is he Uniltìranyu? Please tell me who it is, my daughter."

Her daughter shook her head miserably, but Kalinkey could tell she had struck a nerve by the look in her eyes. She gathered Lissa into her arms, and let her cry her heart out.

After all the tears that could have been shed had fallen, Kalinkey brewed her daughter a soothing tea, which soon made her drowsy. In less than ten minutes, Lissa was fast asleep, in a deep dreamless sleep from which she would awake calm and refreshed in the morning.

It was well that she had grown as a person. In her youth, when she had been a tawtute on 'Rrta, Kalinkey would have exploded in a violent rage at the provocation she had just been given. Now, she could contain her anger, and use it to fuel the path which she must follow.

There was only one unmarried Uniltìranyu man that had spent much time in the presence of her daughter, and Kalinkey had thought that he was her friend.

She had made the fastest ever journey to Hell's Gate ever, by taking three pa'li, and travelling all night and the following day, changing mounts every hour. It was close to sunset when she arrived at the gate to the home of the Uniltìranyu – the place where she had first set foot on Pandora as the first dreamwalker.

The sentry greeted her warmly. "Kalinkey!" he said. "Here to see Doc Palmer again?"

"Why else would I travel so far?" she dissembled, answering him in the 'Ìnglìsì. Kalinkey had learnt many things since becoming real, since she had grown from being an autistic human girl into the Na'vi woman she was today, including the art of telling a falsehood without lying. After all, she had come many times to this place to consult with her foster father, on the project to link the human computers with Eywa, so it was easy to divert his attention from the truth.

"It must be important," said the sentry. "Usually, you only have one mount. You must have been in a hell of a rush."

"A matter of life and death," she quipped, as she dismounted. "But first, I have to catch up with Lu'iss. Do you know where he is?"

"You're in luck," grinned the sentry. "The bugger's not out hunting. I saw him this morning, doing inventory in the Q-store."

"Irayo," she said, and led the three pa'li to the area that had formerly been the botany garden, where they could feed, and recover from their journey.

The stores clerk told her that Sergeant Lewis could be found in aisle E-12, where the human arctic camo was. "That's where he keeps his still," she said, pointing with the index finger of the five-fingered hand of a dreamwalker. "It's more habit than any other reason," she added. "No-one ever has any cause to go there, and it isn't like brewing some jungle juice is against regs now. Besides, his shine is top-level. Even the Colonel drinks it."

"Irayo," she replied. There would be no interruptions to what she had planned.

"No problem."

When Kalinkey rounded the corner into aisle E-12, she saw him, the kawngtan, attending his still. She hardened her heart, and called out, "Lu'iss."

He turned to face her with a smile, which faded as she raised her bow, an arrow already nocked. By the expression on his face, the man who had been her oldest friend on this world knew why she was here. "Your life is mine!" she screamed, drawing and loosing the arrow in a single motion.

"Wiya!" she swore. In her anger, she had rushed the shot, plugging the kawngtan in his shoulder. He spun and fell to the ground. The pottery jar he had been filling smashed into a hundred pieces, spilling booze all over the concrete floor. Kalinkey reached for another arrow. She nocked it, drew and took careful aim. Just before she released the shot, someone slammed into her back. Kalinkey fell headlong. The last thing she saw before her head hit the floor was her arrow skittering along the hard concrete, striking sparks from the flint arrowhead.

Some hours later, Kalinkey was sitting on a stool in the longhouse of the olo'eyktan of the Uniltìranyu, her hands tied behind her back. She had not spoken to anyone since she regained consciousness.

The olo'eyktan Ren'zhore had just returned from the hunt, and clearly looked as though he would rather be somewhere else. He sighed, and said, "Paklowski. Vitello. Would one of you mind telling me what the hell happened, and why Kalinkey of the Omaticaya is here bound as a prisoner."

"Yes, Boss," said the woman standing to Kalinkey's left. "We had come for a visit from the Ikranaru, to see Lewis, to mull over old times."

"And get some of his moonshine," added her husband, Vitello. "We were just returning from the head, when we saw Kalinkey shoot Lewis with her bow. She was about to take another shot when I tackled her, and knocked her unconscious."

"Do you have anything to say in your defence?" demanded Ren'zhore, looking pointedly at Kalinkey.

She lifted her head proudly staring back at the olo'eyktan. "His life is mine to take," she said, her voice clear and firm.

Ren'zhore sighed again. "It sounds like a clear case of attempted murder," he said. "You know the penalty is death, both by human law, and that of the Na'vi."

Kalinkey repeated, "His life is mine to take." She ignored her foster father, who was wringing his hands in distress. Despite all his entreaties, she had not spoken to him, not one word.

"Colonel," he said, his voice desperate. "You cannot kill my daughter. The project…the project to link our computers with Eywa will fail without her."

"Sorry, Doc Palmer," said the erstwhile colonel, now olo'eyktan. "The law is the law. I am bound by it as are we all. If we do not follow it, we are no better than animals."

"My love," said Amala, Tsahik of the Uniltìranyu. "It may not be attempted murder, by what Kalinkey says."

"What do you mean?"

"A Na'vi may take the life of an enemy," she said, "An enemy she wounds on the field of battle, but then to whom she shows mercy. If this is so, then Kalinkey holds the life of Lu'iss in her hand."

Ren'zhore spun to face Lewis, who was sitting on a stool looking quite pale, his shoulder heavily bandaged and arm in a sling. "Yes, Boss," he said reluctantly. "Sara…Kalinkey shot me in the Battle of Vitraya Ramunong. Her arrow was poisoned. If she had not given me the antidote, I would have died."

"There is a condition," interjected Amala, before her husband could speak again. "Kalinkey must have good reason to take the life of Lu'iss."

The olo'eyktan slowly turned towards Kalinkey, and raised an eyebrow. "Well?"

Kalinkey swallowed before speaking. "Lu'iss toyed with the affections of my daughter, and did not tell her that he only lay with men. This gave her hope, where there was none, and her love goes unrequited. He is no longer fit to be called friend."

"Well, well, well," said Ren'zhore. "That sounds like a fucking good reason to me, especially as your jacket has your sexual preference down as gay. Paklowski, cut Kalinkey free, and give her your knife, so she can complete her vengeance, and we can be done with this unpleasant business."

"Boss…" started Paklowski.

"Do it!" The voice of the olo'eyktan crackled with the tones of command, a voice that could not be disobeyed.

Suddenly, Kalinkey's hands were free. She rubbed her wrists to get the blood circulating in her hands, and took the offered blade from the disapproving Paklowski. As she took a step towards her former friend, a thread of doubt entered her heart. Killing with a knife was not like killing with a bow, from a distance. She knew that, from giving the blow of grace to the dying, to ease their way into the arms of Eywa. One felt the last breath, felt the soul slip away from the body. She remembered the pain of every blow. Would this be the same? Lu'iss was her friend, her oldest friend.

The expression on Lewis' face was disbelieving, as though this could not possibly be happening. "Ah, Boss…" he said.

"Yes, Sergeant Lewis?" demanded the olo'eyktan, his voice testy, as though he was tired of this affair, and was eager to be about the proper business of the clan. Not something as inconsequential as the life and death of an erstwhile Na'vi language instructor.

"Kalinkey is wrong," said the nervous looking man, rising to his feet, and taking a surreptitious glance to the exit.

"You mean you didn't trifle with her daughter's affection," stated Ren'zhore.

"No. Yes. No, I didn't trifle. Well, maybe I did, but I didn't mean to. I was trying not to trifle," objected Lewis incoherently. "I meant the other thing."

"What other thing?" asked Kalinkey, her curiosity piqued.

"I'm not gay," he said.

Paklowski said seriously, "Dude, you are as gay as a troop of airline stewards. You always have been."

"I was, but now I'm not," said Lewis defensively. "Not since I crossed over into the blue suit, when I became a smurf. It's like my brain got rewired, just like yours did, sir. You know, the whole committing to one woman thing, for life. I've heard your rep, from when you were a human, before you were wounded. I mean, you were a legend in the Corps. More notches on your belt than Simo Häyhä. Or Don Juan."

"What does Lu'iss mean?" queried Amala, raising an eyebrow at her husband. "What do notches on a belt signify?"

The olo'eyktan glared at Lewis, who continued to babble. "It confused the heck out of me, sir. Here I was, after a lifetime of ogling buff dudes, and they didn't do a thing for me. Instead, I kept on looking at women. It took me ages to figure out."

Ren'zhore addressed his wife. "My love, when I was human I was not the most consistent of men. This changed, once I became Na'vi, and met you. You know my love has never wavered."

By the way Amala glared back at her husband, Kalinkey guessed that this would be a conversation that would take some time to resolve between the olo'eyktan and the Tsahik. But that was going to be a conversation that would play out in private.

"Ok, Lewis," continued Ren'zhore. "I accept that you might no longer be gay, as a result of passing through the Eye of Eywa."

"What about the trifling?" demanded Kalinkey. She had not noticed that she had lowered the knife, nor that the corner of her mouth was twitching up into a half-smile.

"I don't know how to talk to women," muttered Lewis. "Not that way. I mean, if Lissa had been a dude, I would have known what to do…what to say. I didn't know if she felt the same way. I mean, I'm so much older than she is. I just played it safe, so I didn't hurt her."

"How long have you known, Lu'iss?" asked Kalinkey, her voice softer.

"I mean, she's your kid, Sara," said Lewis, using Kalinkey's tawtute name. "It just felt as though it should be wrong. I've known you for decades. I'm no pervert."

Kalinkey smiled, "Lu'iss, my daughter is a woman of seventeen years, and passed through Uniltaron two seasons ago. You appear as a young man of twenty-two or twenty-three, no matter how many years you lived as a tawtute. It has only been seven years since you passed though the Eye. Here, in this time and place, age is no barrier. Now, answer my question, skxawng."

"I always thought she was a nice kid," admitted the wounded Na'vi.

"Answer the fucking question," chorused Vitello and Paklowski.

Lewis held up both hands. "Ok, ok. It's always been Lissa, ever since the first time I saw her after passing through the Eye. I knew it would only be her. Could only be her."

"Ren'zhore," said Kalinkey, her voice carrying the tones of formality. "The life and spirit of Lu'iss belong to me. Will you cede them to me, without challenge, as is my right under law and custom?"

"What!" shouted Lewis, disbelievingly. "You're still going to kill me?"

"No, dude," said Vitello. "She's going to do something much worse."

"Yeah, skxawng," agreed Paklowski. "She's going to take you home, and force you to tell her daughter exactly what you just admitted."

Kalinkey said seriously to the two former humans, "You see truly, friends. One might think that you were never tawtute."

"It sort of grows on you," replied Paklowski, shrugging her shoulders in the human fashion.

Ren'zhore grinned, "I cede the skxawng Lewis to you, Kalinkey of the Omaticaya, to do as you will."

"Gee, thanks, Boss," growled Lewis.

"Come, Lu'iss," said Kalinkey. "There is much to do. You must pack your belongings after I redress your wound, and tell the healer who first dressed it that he is an incompetent. Only then may we depart."

"I told the bugger he was doing it all wrong," said Lewis. "The prick wouldn't listen. Doc Fleischmann would have done a much better job."

"I am glad you learnt something of the way of the healer, all those years ago," said Kalinkey. After all, Lu'iss had watched most of her training over the link the tawtute used to learn the language of the Na'vi.

"Akwey knew what he was about," he replied, as they descended the steps from the longhouse. "You couldn't help but learn stuff from him."

"One moment," she said, turning around and running back up the stairs. At the doorway, she said, "Amala, be gentle with your husband. He is only a man."

The Tsahik of the Uniltìranyu barked an ironic laugh. "You are wise, Kalinkey. This a fact that all women struggle to remember."

"Eywa ngahu," said Kalinkey to the Uniltìranyu.

"Eywa ngahu," they chorused.

As she ran lightly back down the stairs, catching up to her friend Lu'iss, she heard Vitello's voice drift through the doorway. "I can't believe you were just going to let her cut Lewis' throat, Boss."

They didn't hear the olo'eyktan's answer.

"I have trouble believing it too," griped Lewis.

Kalinkey replied, "Ren'zhore sees deeply into the heart of his people. He knew that there was truth to be uncovered, and that you would need encouragement to reveal it."

"That's so encouraging," complained Lewis.

Kalinkey didn't answer him immediately. Instead, after a dozen paces she changed the subject, and asked, "Tell me, 'eylan, have you ever thought of following the path of the healer? A man of the Omaticaya needs more skills than that of brewing berry liquor, no matter how good it is."

"Just what I need," he grumbled. "A pushy prospective mother-in-law who wants her daughter to marry a doctor. Are you Jewish by any chance?"

"I don't know," replied Kalinkey. "But my tawtute surname was Rosenbaum."

She really didn't understand why Lu'iss shook his head sadly, and muttered almost inaudible words under his breath. "Sara fucking Rosenbaum. What a cliché. No wonder she shot me. If I had known…"

Kalinkey didn't quite hear what Lu'iss should have known, despite the acknowledged sensitivity of her ears.

The ride back to the place of the Omaticaya was a lot more comfortable. Kalinkey was sure the pa'li appreciated the dawdling pace as much as she did.

"Thank you for your kind words about Akwey, my teacher," she said to Lu'iss, a warm glow in her heart. She still missed the grumpy old man, and thought of him every day of her life.

"He was a good teacher," repeated Lewis. "And he loved you, like a father loves his daughter. His love for you shone as brightly as the sun in the sky. We all could see it, even over the link."

Kalinkey chuckled softly to herself.

"What's so funny?" he asked.

"If you had only told Lissa that your love for her was as bright as the sun, I would have had no need to shoot you."

"It's not the same," he objected.

His words only deserved one response. "Skxawng."

"I still can't believe you shot me," he growled.

"If ever you give Lissa the slightest cause to doubt your love," she said, her voice calm and steady, "I will shoot you again. And I won't rush the shot, either, not like I did yesterday. Even though you are my oldest friend, and will regret your death always."

"Family before friends, huh," he commented drily.

"It is a good rule," she replied, her tone matter of fact. "As you know, I like following rules."

"I noticed that about you," quipped Lewis, his voice even drier. The he laughed, and grinned like the mythical Cheshire Cat.

"What is it?" she asked, curious about his sudden change of expression.

"I am just imagining what the men of the Omaticaya will say, when they observe how passionately I will decry my love for your daughter," he chuckled. "They will question whether I am a man at all, despite my good reasons for being so demonstrative."

"As long as it is out of love, and not fear," she said, smiling at him. This was the Lu'iss she knew and cared for.

"It will be both, from both love and fear," he said, "As I fear that Lissa will not believe me unless I show my love every day of my life, to one and all."

"A good answer," said Kalinkey. Then she grinned, and chuckled. "The men may think you strange, but the women will not. No woman ever tires of hearing that her mate loves her, and the more extravagantly it is said, the better. They will wonder why their own mates do not do likewise. Why, they might even do so within hearing of their menfolk. Loudly."

"Very loudly," said Lewis, his voice suddenly serious, in the reproving tones of an elder of the clan - one who disapproves of the foolishness of the young.

They looked at each other, and laughed again, making their pa'li dance nervously. So much so that Lu'iss fell off, fortunately landing on his good shoulder.

Kalinkey was in such a good mood, she didn't even scold him for endangering the healing of his wound, despite having to dismount and heave him back onto his wayward steed.

As it turned out, the first person that greeted them after they released their pa'li to graze was her daughter. If Kalinkey retained any doubts of her daughter's feelings, they were immediately put to rest by her actions.

"Lu'iss!" she cried out, running to him. She did not appear to notice Kalinkey at all. "You are hurt. How did this happen?"

"Your mother shot me," he said, his voice as blunt as only he could make it. Kalinkey rolled her eyes. She was clearly never going to hear the end of this.

"Sa'nu! How could you do such a thing? Lu'iss is your friend."

Her daughter was plainly shocked, particularly as she knew how good an archer Kalinkey was. Clearly, she had come to the correct conclusion that her mother only shot what she aimed at, and there had been no accident.

"I deserved to be shot," said Lu'iss. "If not for being shot by Kalinkey, I would not have two reasons to have come to live at the place of the Omaticaya."

Now her daughter looked confused.

"The first reason," he said, "Is that after being shot, I came to the realisation that I wished to be trained in the art of healing by your mother." Lu'iss gave Kalinkey an impish glance, as though he was seeking approval. She must have given some sign, as he continued, "She is, after all, known by all as the foremost healer in all the Fifteen Clans, and I only frequent the best teachers."

"But sa'nu is a terrible teacher," objected Lissa. "I should know."

"I am standing right here," murmured Kalinkey, but her daughter did not hear her. Instead, her full attention was given to the man standing before her.

Lu'iss made a small sign of negation. "Your mother is a wonderful person," he said. "You are lucky to have a mother who loves you to distraction. Mine never did."

Now Lissa looked even more confused. "Why are you telling me this? I don't understand."

"Ah, the second reason," said Lu'iss. He knelt on one knee, and took Lissa's hand in his uninjured hand. "If not for your mother shooting me, I would not be here today to ask you to be my life-mate, to be the love of my life, until the end of days."

There were several seconds of silence, while her daughter tried to process the words that she had just heard. Indeed, Kalinkey saw a concerned expression appear on the face of her friend, as though he was suddenly unsure of himself.

He need not have worried.

Lissa threw herself on him, heedless of his wound. Kalinkey could have sworn that their lips were locked in a kiss before Lu'iss' shoulders hit the ground. She had to give it to him – he didn't even flinch, despite how much his injury surely hurt.

Kalinkey thought about thirty seconds was long enough. She said, "Lissa." There was no response. "Lissa," she repeated. Still no response, so she shouted, "Lissa!"

"Yes, sa'nu," said her daughter, finally breaking their kiss. However, she did not look away from the face of her lover, who was gazing just as vapidly back at her daughter. "What is it?"

"You are resting your weight right on Lu'iss' wound," she advised calmly. "If you continue to do so, it will take much longer to heal, which will delay the marriage feast."

Kalinkey could not have said any other words which would cause her daughter to move with such alacrity.

Author's Note

I have four apologies to make to my readers. The first is my acknowledgement that homosexuality in humans is not something that can be switched on or off, or is a matter of choice, but is inherent in a personality. Lu'iss' change of preference is justified here by the act of passing through the Eye of Eywa, and the fundamental shift that causes in all former tawtute personalities, from humans who screw indiscriminately like bonobos to lifelong monogamists by design.

Besides, the comedic possibilities appealed to me.

The second apology is to those who might be offended by my use of the body dysmorphia of a young woman as a plot device. This is a serious issue, and should never be taken lightly. My belief strongly aligns with Kalinkey's - 'Spirit is Everything, Body is Nothing' - and I wish that Western society did not place so much pressure on young women to aspire to a state of physical perfection that is only achievable through use of Photoshop.

The third apology is using the hackneyed cliché of the stereotypical Jewish mother-in-law in my story. Actually, I 'm not sorry about that at all - I just couldn't resist it, despite how non-PC it makes me. Does this make me a bad person?

The final apology is to my long-term readers, for not having posted a story for a number of years, despite their entreaties. My absence was due to a health issue that made it nigh impossible to write, which I hope is now resolved.

While I can't say how much more fanfiction I will be writing, I hope that this little one-shot return to the En Pointe arc will be as much fun to read as it was to write.

For those of you who have not read any of my other stories, this tale of Kalinkey and Lewis arises out of the events of 'By The Numbers' and 'Shaping The Spirit'. It is contemporary with one of my other one-shots, 'The Empty Man', making several references to the events of that story.

Enjoy.