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Concrete Jungle

The woman was quietly stirring her drink. It was something she had done ever night since she had left her mate. He had lost his mind, thinking she was going to give up her career when she was just at the level of promotion she had dreamed through eight years of college. The only thing that had kept her going for so long was the thought that she might eventually make it to where he wanted.

Zacora Zebra. She had been born in the Jungles of Africa, and had moved to the United States when she was only sixteen. She excelled in school, and soon graduated and moved on to college. Her Father had beamed with pride, seeing his only daughter graduate from college the first time. Her brothers celebrated when she graduated a second time. Having both the degrees she needed to become the Chief Technician for EbsCom Industries, she soared through the ranks and quickly made her name known.

But one thing had always bothered her. She remembered where she came from, and those traditions and beliefs were still a part of her. And those same beliefs told her she needed to be married by now. She had loved Angoro, but she was not about to give up her future because he didn't like the thought of leaving the town they had both lived in. But it was nearly Thanksgiving. She was due to fly home before Halloween and stay through November and December with her family. They always celebrated both the traditional Holidays and the holidays of their new home.

Downing her drink, she set the glass down and then paid her tab. Hailing a cab she got in and watched the Chicago streets pass slowly by as she headed for the apartment building so that she could pack. But something in the back of her mind nagged at her. The soft sounds of drums that her father played during their family celebrations.

Paying the cabby, she headed into her building and took the elevator up. Her suitcases were mostly packed, but she still needed to pack her personal items. As she opened her apartment door, she stopped. Outside, she could hear the drunken howling of the local bar hounds. But strangely it sounded so much like the calling of the canines back home in Africa.

She shook it off, but it didn't go away. Finally she finished packing and put her suitcases in the living room. Her taxi would arrive at 8:00 AM sharp. She planned to be on the sidewalk by 7:45AM to meet it. As she set her alarm clock, she heard again the sounds of drums in the back of her mind. Smiling, she thought to herself how much she missed her family. Most of her brothers had graduated from college by now. Only One remained at home with their father. But that was because he took his father's profession, carpentry. The others were all managers or administrators because they followed their sister to college.

She stripped herself down and flopped back on her bed. Her hooves clicked as she crossed her legs. Smiling as she thought of all the things they could talk about. Her new promotion, the youngest of them had sent her news that he was married and his first child was soon expected. She had learned that her oldest brother was expanding the family business. Opening a new shop in addition to the one their father had started.

She whinnied softly in excitement at getting everyone together again. Because it was the twenty year anniversary of their arrival in America. But that fact also saddened her a little bit. She had hoped that she would have a family of her own by now.

She turned out her light, and curled on her side. She had never liked sleeping in clothing, or having covers. Even when it was freezing she couldn't wear anything when she slept. She had been born in the jungles, and there she had grown used to sleeping naked. Though it had taken her some time to adjust to the way of life here, she quickly adapted. Though when she returned to her family's home, she knew that the traditional tribal clothing would be there, waiting for her.

The next morning she was on a plane toward New York. She flew First Class, mainly because she hated coach. As she was reading her magazine, the stewardess came to her with a smile. "Will you be needing anything before the food service?" Zacora shook her head. "No thank you. But I would like to request water with my meal." The stewardess nodded.

The meal service came and went, Zacora enjoying a simple salad with water. As she was finishing up, she looked out her window. She spotted the city coming into view on the horizon. She was soon picking up her bags from the luggage rack. As she headed outside, she was surprised to meet her Father. He greeted her warmly. "Greetings Daughter. Welcome Home," he said in their native language. Zacora remembered their home language well. "Greetings Father. I am pleased to see you are well."

He loaded her luggage into the back of his truck and then smiled at his daughter. "Your brothers have missed you. As have I." She nodded and smiled back at him as she climbed into the old pick up. "I missed you papa. It's been too long. I may transfer back to the field office here. I think it's time I came home. Ten years on my own has taught me the value of family love and togetherness. And I miss the sounds of your drums."

The old Zebra chuckled. "I missed your singing. Long have I thought of returning to Africa, one last time to celebrate life once more." The woman gave a soft nay. "That would be so nice. Papa, If you want we can go home this season. See the lands we grew up with." He looked at her as he started the truck. "You want to see your home once more?"

She nodded and smiled. "And Mama." The old zebra nodded knowingly. Zacora had only known her mother for a year or two. She had died giving birth to the youngest of them. Zacora had always loved her mother, even in death she prayed to her mother. It was a long, quiet ride to the house. It was set back, in the forests of the back country. Arriving, Zacora fairly flew from the truck, rushing to her brothers that stood outside. They were grilling, and drinking beer. As she rushed to them, they ran to her.

Zacora hugged and kissed each on the cheek, chatting as their Father came up to them. As they all gathered around the grill, the oldest male spoke. "I am not satisfied with the work the employees do. They have no love of the craft. It's just a job to them. I may just close up the shop and come back where I belong." Zacora frowned. "It is not like you to give up brother." He nodded, "You speak the truth. I do not wish to close up. But unless they put forth love and effort into their work, it's just wooden pieces. Which only sell because fools pay for them."

One of the others spoke up. "I am tired of working in the offices of the machine shop. I long to once more feel the machine in my hands. Working was something I was born for. Not pushing papers across a desk. Would you be interested in me coming to work for you brother?" The oldest smiled, seeing the light of passion in his sibling's eyes. "Yes dear brother. I would be proud to have you in my shop working along side me."

Zacora watched the love of family grow between them all, and it made her long to have one of her own even more. As she was looking around, she noticed that the house had been expanded. "Did you build extra rooms father?" she asked. He shook his head, "It was not I, but Kyliman that built the addition to our home." She looked to the brother in question and smiled. "Your construction is improving. I am thrilled to see you putting it to such good use."

The brother blushed, but nodded. "Thank you sister. I am glad you approve." They soon went into the house as the food was ready. Sitting around the table, they bowed their heads as their father prayed softly. As the prayer finished, they began to eat. The meal was joyous, full of conversation and the love of family.

Later that night, as Zacora was bathing, she heard the drums of her father beating outside. She leaned out the shower and looked out the window. They had lit a bonfire and were all in their tribal clothing. Dancing to the beat of the drums as they sang. Zacora turned off the shower and then toweled herself off quickly. She ran to her room and found her clothing. Pulling on her loin cloth, she then pulled her top over her bust, but stopped. Tossing it aside she strode to the stairs and walked down them.

Coming outside, she strode to the bonfire. Her brothers turned to look at her, and kind of stared. She had usually been more reserved, but tonight she was far more open. As she began to dance, she lifted her voice. The sound echoing off the surrounding forest and seeming to come from everywhere at once. Her brothers soon joined in and the sounds of tribal music and dance filled the air.

It was late in the evening when the bonfire died. Zacora in her room, stripped herself of clothing and slid onto her bed. She lay still, breathing heavily still. Her legs ached from all the dancing and her arms were numb from swaying to and fro for the majority of the night. She was covered in sweat but she loved it. She heard a sound at her door and looked up. Her oldest brother stood there, smiling at her. "Seems someone did enjoy themselves." She sat up and smiled at him. They had often been nude before each other, so being so now was nothing unusual. The male came in and sat on her bed. He and she were the most mature, though she was the second youngest. She had grown up quickly after her mother died. Filling in for her as best as the little zebra could have.

"It's been nearly twenty years since we came here. And still, nothing has changed between us all. You still try to be mother for us all. Even from half way across the continent." Zacora nodded. "And you still try to be the big brother, even though you were adopted. You really are the best brother we could have." He chuckled softly. "Yes, but I am not blood. The family name is not mine to pass along. That right belongs to Obabwea. He is the oldest born of mother and father." Zacora frowned. "Demura, Father gave you his blessing. You are his son, our brother, and mother's first child. Believe me, you are the heir to Father's mantel. Blood or no blood, you are our brother, our first born, and our family." She leaned up and hugged him tightly.

He embraced her back and stroked her mane. "Sister, thank you. Come now, you need your rest and so do I. We will be up early to fix breakfast for the others. Father is getting too old to do it anymore." As he was going to leave her room. Zacora gripped his hand. She pulled him back to her bed. "Demura, Come to bed. You don't need to sleep on the sofa anymore." He gazed down at her questioningly. He knew she was feeling the call of nature. But it was harmless to merely share a bed with his adoptive sister. They had shared a bed many times before as children.

The next morning, Zacora awoke quietly. She felt strangely sore between her legs. Looking down, she noticed something wet and sticky between her legs. The stark realization of the previous night's events came back to her. She moved her hand back, and touched her adoptive brother's arm. He was awakened by her touch and sat up. He too realized what had happened. He looked at her, but could not hold her gaze. He looked away in shame. He had let his primal instinct take him over, and in the moment they had done something both felt ashamed of.

Zacora would have been angry with him, but for the anguish on his face. Sighing, she stood moved to him. "Demura, please look at me." he turned to her, nearly in tears. "Demura, what we have done. I have no words. But I see no wrong. You and I are not blood. Perhaps this was meant to be. And if I bare child, then I bare child. Come what may, I bare you no anger." But her words offered him little comfort. There was only one thing to do. "We can not keep this secret. Our family must know." Zacora nodded.

As she turned to the door, their father stood staring at them. The look on his face was not anger, nor hurt. It was only shock. "It is done then?" he finally asked. Zacora spoke before Demura. "Yes Father. Bare him no anger. The shame is mine alone to bare. I seduced him." But her father silenced her with a wave of his hand. "No. I....I see that there is emotion between you both. Something that has long gone unspoken. When you left for your career, Demura was heartbroken. Pouring his soul into his work. I should have seen it sooner."

Demura spoke softly. "Father...Please. I did not." Again, he raised his hand. "I bare no anger to either of you. I thought that one day this may happen. And since then I have prepared myself for this. Come, breakfast is to be made. Your brothers will awake soon. We may discuss this then."

It was an hour and a half later, that Zacora and Demura stood beside the table, as their brothers looked to one another. They said nothing, but their thoughts were on their faces. Shock, betrayal, shame, anger. But their father's presence was more than enough to keep them silent. Finally The youngest spoke. "What is done is done. We shall wait and see. Demura did only what has been done for generations before us. Demura. I speak only my own feelings here. You are no longer our brother."

Demura's face fell, the shame too much for him to bare. But the youngest continued before Demura or Zecora could speak. "However, you are still family. As Zacora's mate. I truly believe that things happen as the great spirit's accord. You were raised by Father for a reason, though that reason was unclear. I believe that it is to carry on the family name. Though, that is for Father to decide."

Their father stood, leaning on the table and sighed. "In my youth, I would have challenged you for my daughter's honor. But this is a different time, in a different land than our home. While this act is still strange, and uncomfortable to me, I will grant my blessing upon your union if you marry under the traditions of our home land. And soon, before she bares signs of child." Zecora felt strange. She was given no other option but to marry Demura, but at the same time it thrilled her. Demura had always looked after her especially. Because she was the only female of the family.

Demura looked to Zacora, and swallowed hard. She reached slowly and took his hand in hers. "Then it is decided. We travel to Africa." Their father said. The other males looked to one another. If father was to bless their union, then so be it. Demura had never been formally adopted. They had only considered him a part of the family because Father raised him. Demura sighed and looked to Zacora to speak. But she silenced him as she leaned up and kissed him. As she parted from him, she spoke softly. "No words, only feel what it is in your heart." He nodded. For many years he had loved her, never speaking of it because of fear.

It was nearly a month to the day, that they stepped off the plane in Khartoum, Sudan. Zacora felt so alive, being back in the lands she was born. Demura held her hand as they walked form the airport to the waiting Taxis that would take them to their hotel. The group seemed more relaxed, happy, and even joyous to be home. Zacora looked at Demura, and smiled. They had not told their family yet, that they had decided to stay. They were giving up United States citizen ship, to live and survive in the land of their home.

Their Father had an idea about it, but was not sure. As they rode to the hotel, the three taxis they took bumped up and down over the rode. Arriving at the hotel, the group collected their bags, and headed inside to check in. It was only a temporary stay. The village elders remembered them well. Their Father and grand-father were still honored, being men of worth. Carpentry was highly revered in their village. As they moved to their rooms, Zacora and Demura looked to the others and spoke. "After the ceremony and celebration, we will accompany you back to the airport. But we will not return to America. We will stay." While their father was not too surprised, their brothers were shocked. The sudden announcement caused a stir among them.

The couple waited until their family had calmed, and they could explain. "Demura is a carpenter, like father. He will have much work to provide for our child. And I have grown tired of big cities and long days in an office. My blood has called me home ever since we left. This is where I belong, where our children should be raised." The group grew quiet, and nodded softly. They understood the need to be where your heart called.

"We will come back for the holidays. And you are free to visit us as often as you like," Demura said softly. The night passed quietly, and with the sun, everyone was up, but only wearing tribal clothing. They took the only means of transportation that would reach Abu Dulayq, simple wooden carts pulled by feral animals. The driver was a Panther. He eyed them quietly, unsure if they were out landers or not.

As they bumped and moved along the quiet path, they found themselves enjoying the ride through somewhat familiar surroundings. Even speaking in their native tongue. "Zacora, what will you name your first child?" their father asked. "That is unknown to me. If it is a male child, I will call him Demuru. But a female, I will name after Mother. Saska." The youngest brother smiled and spoke softly. "You have had mother's spirit within you since birth. Always close by to aid us when we needed you. It is little wonder you would give her name to your own daughter." Zacora smiled and nodded.

It was late in the evening when the cart stopped. "We camp here tonight. I do not travel in darkness," the driver said softly. The zebras nodded, coming off the cart as the panther set about lashing up the beasts. The father made a small fire, as the others set about making small meals. Zacora sat near the fire, looking at the flames that danced. "Too long have we worn the clothing of the west. Too long have we been away from the drums and flames of our home." Demura pat her shoulder and whispered. "No longer."

The panther sat near them and spoke softly. "Many that have left never again hear the calling of their home. You are fortunate to feel your heart called home to begin your family. It has been nearly three months since I came this way last. Bringing goods to the village. Though it has grown much since you left, there are many that still remember the ways of the ancestors. Living outside the main village, continuing tradition."

The next morning saw them leaving at daybreak. Traveling through rougher areas than before. But soon the sounds of life came to them. They heard the noise of the village. Coming into view were the huts that they remembered, and beyond was the main part of the village. Now a bustling town with houses and shops. The driver stopped at the edge of the huts. "This is where I leave you. I will return within a week for those that wish to return to the city." Turning his team, he drove the cart off, leaving the family to stand and stare at the small cluster of huts. Several of the inhabitants stared back, whispering as a group of elders approached.

"Speak your name, that we may know you." One of the older women spoke harshly. Their father stepped forward. "I am Neberu, Son of Daburu. I return, wise elder." The woman looked slightly shocked. Her face twisted into a smile slowly. "Neberu, you return to us. It has been far too long that our village has been without your family."

She looked over each, as the Father spoke to the other elders. Stopping at Demura and Zacora. She stared at them long and hard, before speaking. "She is with child. I can sense it. And she brings the father with her. You are here for the union yes? Speak child, that I may know your name and purpose." Zacora nodded, bowing before the woman as she spoke softly. "I am Zacora, daughter of Neberu. I come home, to live as I should have. I bring my mate, Demura. We seek to be united. My mate is a crafter of wood, as is my father before me. We wish to return home, to the village of our birth."

The elders looked at each other, before holding a private discussion. Finally the female turned to her. "Zacora, daughter of Neberu. Rise. Return to your people, whom will welcome you with open arms." Zacora stood, smiling happily as she wept softly. The female reached up to her, and wiped at her tears. "Weep not child, you are welcome in the land of your birth. Your mother's spirit is with you. You bring much joy with you. Come, we must prepare for the ceremony."

The next few days were filled with joy, and many traditional practices. The bride and groom were separated, not allowed to see each other except in passing. Dances, gifts, and feasts followed. And finally, the ceremony. Both stood nude before the whole village. Bare, unashamed, and joyous. The ceremony lasted well into the night, and finally the two were declared as mates.

It was late in the night when the celebration died down enough for Zacora and Demura to slip away into the jungle. Demura caressed her as he held her to his chest. "My beloved mate. Whisper to me. Tell me of your desire that I might grant it." Zacora had dreamed of this moment. A million things had filled her mind when she thought about it. But in this moment, only one thing came to her. "Give me only that which is mine to take. And take from me that which is yours alone."

With the beating sounds of the tribal drums, the pair were mated, their calling well into the morning was heard. And nothing disturbed them.

Several years later, as the cart pulled into the village, the panther and his son disembarked. They helped the males and their mates come down from the cart. Zacora came slowly forward, her belly large with child again. She smiled as the young girl that held her hand eyed the strangers curiously. "Mother.....who are they?" Zacora smiled at her. "They are your uncles and their families. Come, it is time you knew your family."