annatefka

Annatefka
By Audrey.K

     Paris at daybreak. The sun rose slowly into the cold sky, melting the icy drops of dew on the street. A young woman dressed in enveloping clothing that showed not even her face, ventured through the Parisian gates. Due to her dark skin and hair she was not from around Europe, but from the mysterious middle east. Her name was Sabine-Fatima Amere. She was pretty young woman. The all-concealing hejab hid her natural beauty. But there was one flaw. Sabine held no voice. She was a mute. Clutched in her hands was a small bundle which she held tenderly to her body. Suddenly three soldiers spotted her. They did not take kindly to those who entered the city without a permit. This especially went for gypsies and other nomads. They demanded to know who she was, where she came from and what she was carrying. In their minds she was a thief. Not knowing the language (or speaking for that matter) there was absolutely no way for Sabine to express who she was. There was only one thing for her to do.
     Run and not look back.
     The soldiers pursued her like a pack of wolves zeroing in on a kill. Five blocks later, they finally captured her. But the young Arabic would not go without a fight. She kicked, punched and clawed. One soldier was getting sick of this woman's impertinence. In a flourish, he took out his dagger and plunged it into the woman's chest. She died instantly.
     The soldiers finally realized their mistake. The woman was not hoarding stolen goods but a baby. There was only one thing for the soldiers to do. Place the baby in an orphanage. The child was at least three years old but did not know how to walk, talk or feed herself. She was unnaturally small for her age and looked like feeble, thin for a toddler. A woman in the orphanage taught the girl to walk and to feed herself, but getting her to talk proved very difficult. Having a mute for a birth mother took its toll on the child. The girl was harassed terribly by the other children. Her food would be snatched away from her and was constantly having cruel tricks played on her. At the age of four and a half, she left the orphanage and looked for somewhere else to live. Even though she was very little, she knew no one would ever adopt her.
      Off the most northern coast of Ile de la Cite` was another Isle. It was uninhabited and was thick with forests. She thought this would be an ideal place to live. After hitching a ride on a floating branch, she made it to the Isle.
      For a short time she lived off roots, berries and other plants. But soon she ate things such as lizards, rodents and other small prey. As the years past, most of the animals on the Isle had gotten to know her as a fellow predator. The creatures consisted mostly of deer, wild cats, foxes, birds of prey and wild dogs. But the animals that truly came to know her were the wildcats. Through their animal-like ways they taught her to hunt more efficiently, the element of ambushing and surprise and even their language. From then on, she spoke through growls, roars, hisses and purrs. The cats even gave her a name. To a human, it sounded like a series staccato growls. But to the animal ear it was "Annatefka." The wildcats and other animals had names such as "Liviata," "Palai," "Eldera," "Quanzeh" and so fourth. But Annatefka's favorite cat was her own. A cub whom she adopted. The one she called Demone. This isolated Isle sitting in the middle of the Seine remained uninhabited for a good reason. The animals kept any other human off with brute force.
      Living with animals caused Annatefka to become one. She did not know that by peering into a puddle, she was seeing a reflection of herself. Instead the child would roar at it and walk away. She would lash out at anything that walked upright or wore clothes. She was an animal. A wild thing. At the age of ten she had no life beyond the Isle, little memory of her birth mother and none whatsoever of her native country.

       From the spiny towers of the Palace of Justice, a lone figure looked out through a telescope at the small Isle north of Paris. The lone figure was none other than judge Claude Frollo. He spotted what looked to be a child come down to drink by the river bed. But instead of using a cup, she knelt down on all fours and lapped up the water in a primitive fashion. He was intrigued by this girl and wanted to get a look at her up close. And there was only one way he knew how.
       To capture her.

       Annatefka plowed through the underbrush of the forest, barging through swamps, pricker bushes and brooks. Two soldiers on horse-back, armed with nets and spears were after the small wild girl. Suddenly the net fell over Annatefka like a spider's web. There was nothing she could do. She was absolutely powerless. Playing possum was very effective for the trapped girl. That is, until she reached the Palace of Justice.
      With two guards at the door and two at the window, Frollo studied the caged girl who continuously threw herself against the bars.
      "She is possessed," Frollo said to himself quietly.
      Annatefka was indeed a strange looking girl. Her body was covered in dark spots from when she had fallen asleep in the trees branches and the sunbeams (which shown through the leaves) had tanned her. She was simply filthy and had a stench of mud and skunk cabbage. Her hair was almost down to her knees. She was unusually small for a nine year old and didn't look an inch higher than four feet. She was almost nude except for body paint which was made out mud and other ingredients. Leaves, feathers and shells also adorned her small body. If Annatefka had been raised and cared for properly, she might have been an adorable little girl.
      Frollo was determined to "drive out the devil" of the girl. With much difficulty he placed her in a long, simple baptismal dress and down to the Notre Dame by a leash.

      There was a huge mass of people in the nave of the cathedral as Frollo told the archdeacon what to do. The screaming Annatefka was tied to a pillar, and the deacon was to conduct a ceremony to "humanize the savage beast." Spouting words in Latin the archdeacon held a goblet of holy water, ready to pour it over Annatefka's head. If only the girl could escape!
      Suddenly with a great burst of energy, Annatefka ripped off the ropes that bound her and tore like mad out of the nave and into a small door that lead up to the very top of the cathedral of Notre Dame.
Pinning herself against the wall, Annatefka's fevered brain began to think of a way out. She supposed if she could climb the stairs then perhaps she might find a way back to her Isle. Hiking up the winding staircase, keeping her body low to the ground she began to think. What were people? People were a total enigma to her. She knew nothing of a person's actions, feelings and behavior. To her people were ignorant, panicky, dangerous creatures. After an hours worth of climbing she made it to the top of the stairs. Pushing open the door, she ventured inside. The bell tower was like no place she had ever seen before. Wooden beams jutted across the walls like the high tree branches of her forest home. Ropes dangled in the air from the colossal bells. These were what amazed her the most. Like a magpie, shiny things always caught the wild girl's attention and boldly ventured toward them. But something else caught her eye.
       It was a stone gargoyle. Obviously she had never seen a gargoyle before and wondered how this creature could be so hard and stand so still. After feeling it and sniffing it. It was certain to her that it was not alive and drew her gaze back to the bells. Running up to the biggest one, she touched it and caressed it. Feeling the cold metal against her small hand. With a gentle knock, the droning vibrations peeled through out the entire tower. Suddenly there came thick footsteps coming the tower's roof. Somebody was coming in. There was only one thing to do.
       Hide.

       Hiding under a table she saw who had entered the lofty tower. The bellringer himself. His face certainly had character. The oddly shaped visage held two large, beautiful eyes. Yet one was almost hidden under a large, egg-like growth. His nose looked as though some one had smashed it into his face. The mouth was simple without any discernible lips. His teeth were jagged and not where they normally should be. A lush crop of red hair topped his head. A color that would shame a rose. Protruding from his back was an arching hump that topped off his muscular body. The face did not frighten Annatefka, but his sheer size stunned her. She knew long ago never to bother anything that was bigger than her, and this man looked like a giant.
      With her body low to the floor she made not a sound. A tiny beetle from under the table crawled onto Annatefka's face, tickling her nose. A sneeze was welling up inside and simply had to be released, and it was. The bellringer was surprised at the sound coming from under the table and went to investigate. He was even more surprised to see the small Annatefka. On all fours, she bowed her head.
       In the animal kingdom it showed respect to a species higher than the other, and kept both species out of fights. The bellringer had no idea what to make of the child. Just by looking at her he could tell that she was wild and untamed. But there was something about her that appealed to him. He thought of reaching a hand out to stroke her, but a fear of being bitten or clawed arose in his mind. Slowly he went to a table and took a plate of scraps and set it in front of the girl. Keeping at least one eye on the bellringer, Annatefka polished off the scraps.
      "Quasimodo, its time for Evening Mass...why haven't the bells sounded yet?"
      Annatefka recognized the voice immediately. It was Claude Frollo. Jumping to her feet, she quickly lept out the window. Quasimodo was frightened that she had fallen, but was relieved to see that Annatefka was safely climbing down the rough walls of the cathedral. He was amazed to see someone just as adapt at climbing high places he was. As agile as a lizard, she shimmied down the columns and statues before finally reaching the bottom.
      Quasimodo did not see her again for another two months.

      Days had passed. The famous siege of Notre Dame flared up when the common rabble of Paris rose up against Frollo and his guards. To stop him from taking away the right of sanctuary and from storming the sacred walls of the cathedral. It was when the church itself was brightly illuminated by the molten lead which spewed from the gargoyle's mouths. When the siege was at an end, Claude Frollo was no more and both townspeople and gypsies alike were free to live without fear.

      But meanwhile on the Isle...
      A man in dark clothes made is way onto the little crumb of land. He had with him only a canteen of liquor. Coughing and hacking, it was undoubtable that he was sick. But no sooner had the man entered the forbidden Isle, he was driven off it by a growling lynx. The intruder was gone but his illness had penetrated the Isle. Though his illness was not fatal, it spread through the forest like the plague.
     And it wasn't long before it reached Annatefka's abode.
     The treehouse was quite advanced for such primitive surroundings. It was camouflaged with a hollowed out gourd to catch rainwater. But even in this leafy fortress, the illness could not be kept out. One minute Annatefka was feeling fit and healthy. The next she lay strewn out on the floor. Sweat coursed down her face like rivers. Nausea gripped her body as she tried to find a restful position. With all her strength, crawled her way to a pouch that held assorted herbs, roots, flowers and other organic items. She quickly downed a few ingredients but it did nothing to heal her.
     Her temperature rose so high she was beginning to hallucinate. Annatefka knew if she stayed on the Isle she would die. With all her strength, she rose to her feet. Her legs felt wobbly and flimsy. The poor girl could not get to the river bank without stumbling. Not having the energy to swim, she simply hitched a ride on a floating log and waited until she reached Ile de la Cite. Crawling on her hands and knees she made it to the cathedral, where she collapsed on the stone steps. She was completely exhausted. The breeze against her sweat cooled her, but did not make her Annatefka any better. Her quivering eyelids fell and went into a coma-like sleep.

      That next morning, the child awoke with a pounding headache and quite disoriented. She was not outside on the stone cold steps, but within a warm little room. Suddenly she felt something furry rub up against her leg. It was Demone. The wildcat must have followed her inside. Where ever "inside" was. She heard the faint sound of fluttering and cooing of pigeons coming from a floor above her. She was in the bell tower. The domain of the being that had spared her the scraps. By her blanket was a basket containing a bottle of water, pieces of bread and a small container of broth. She made short work of the water and bread. Ignoring the spoon she simply lapped up the broth with her tongue. Sparing some for Demone she went to investigate her surroundings, despite her pounding head. Opening a door she clambered up a tall ladder to the tower itself. Through the bright sunbeams shining through the rafters she saw the form of Quasimodo climbing up to a gigantic bell, affectionately named "Big Marie". With a mighty tug on the bell's rope, the great metal dome began to sway heavily.
       "GONG!"
       A deafening peel rang out through the tower. The floor vibrating under the terrific pressure from the sound. The tone sent shock waves through Annatefka's head. Clutching her ears she yielded to the bell and backed away into the little room. When the great peels ceased she continued her search of the tower. Ascending the ropes and wooden pilings, she made it to the top where she found the hunchback. But instead of approaching him with growls, a soft mewing noise fluttered from her lips. In the wildcat language it was a sign of love and respect. Quasimodo could not resist her petite size and her pretty, childish face. With his large hand he began to stroke her hair and the side of her face. Much to his surprise Annatefka began to purr. After nearly an hour of caressing the animal-child. Quasimodo went to a table which held a crude but lovely model of the city. It included the cathedral, houses and even little wooden people. Meticulously he carved one of Annatefka and another of Demone. With great care he placed the two models in the cathedral where a small figurine of himself was.

      That night was a particular cold one. Icy breezes cut through the lofty tower like machetes. Annatefka's fading illness seemed to thrive on freezing temperatures and it flared up with vengeance. Even Quasimodo shivered under his bed covers and couldn't help but to consider patching up some cracks in the tower. Annatefka clutched Demone close for warmth but it wasn't enough.
Slowly and with much difficulty, everyone managed to get some sleep.
      Finally morning arrived. But there was no sunshine. Instead it was cold and gray. Freezing drizzle seeped through the clouds and collected into large droplets on the stone statues, gargoyles and spiny towers that dressed the cathedral. Quasimodo awoke and immediately gasped at the feeling of cold air. Blowing on his hands to warm them he painstakingly lit a small fire in the hearth. While waiting for the fire enlarge itself, he went to retrieve Annatefka. He knew the warmth would do her good after such a cold night. Much to his fright he found her lying on floor stretched out in an unnatural fashion. She looked pale and not fully alive. Carefully wrapping a blanket around her, he held the wasted little creature tightly in his arms and dashed out of the cathedral. He had long since lost his fear of the outside world. Giving the fact that he had performed many courageous feats atop the dizzying heights of the cathedral. Following a tiny map on a woven pendant which he wore around his neck. Quasimodo found his destination.
       The Court of Miracles.

       Climbing down the stone steps under a mausoleum. He found himself once again in the old catacombs. Foul smelling, ankle-deep sewage sloshed around his feet. Suddenly he felt several strong hands grab him by the shoulders and arms. It was the Court's guards. They donned skeleton costumes and apprehended any spy or trespasser that came their way. Roughly they shoved the bellringer into the main hall where, seated atop a raggedy old chair was the King of Beggars himself, Clopin.
       He looked at the guards angrily.
       "And just what do you think you are doing? Don't you remember Quasimodo? He helped us win the great siege!"
      With that the guards released the hunchback. Clopin hurried down to greet him.
      "So what brings you here, Quasi?" Clopin asked
      "You wouldn't happen to have an infirmary in your Court?" Quasimodo questioned
      "Of course we do...who's the child?" Clopin said, glancing at Annatefka
      "She needs help, she's rather ill. Can you help her?"
      "Yes we can, I'll send for Nefaltia. She's our top doctor. A real miracle worker."
      At that moment a young woman appeared. She was quite a beauty with long, raven hair. Warm gray eyes lit up her charming face. She wore simple clothes which consisted of a billowy white blouse, a black lace-up bodice and green skirt.
      "Here, give her to me. Don't worry, she'll be alright," Nefaltia said reassuringly as Quasimodo handed over the half dead child.
      "I think I know what will make you feel better," she said to Annatefka. Gently she placed the child on a table and fetched a large wooden tub. By the bucketfull Nefaltia filled it with steamy water. Taking off what looked like an extremely dirty baptismal dress, Annatefka was placed in the tub. She was positively filthy. Her body was covered in dirt, dust and dried blood. The body paint took more time to deal with but was eventually cleaned away. All of Annatefka's hair below her shoulders was unsalvageable. It was dead, frizzy and would never be beautiful. Taking a pair of scissors she cut off all the excess hair. Leaving the shiny, healthy, living hair. Nefaltia literally had to pick her way through the thorns and bits of pricker bush that was littered in Annatefka's mane. Toweling her off Nefaltia dressed her in a nightshirt and lay her to bed in the infirmary.
      "She shall be alright."

      Nefaltia felt obliged to teach this child to communicate. But first she had to teach her the ways of humans. That meant eating with proper utensils, dressing in good clothes and self control. Annatefka possessed little or none of these qualities. The first task came at breakfast. Nefaltia placed eggs, porridge and apple slices on a plate, along with a fork, knife and spoon. Immediately at the sight and smell of food Annatefka lashed out a hand but Nefaltia slapped her on the wrist. The wild girl let out a loud gruff growl and tried to continue eating. With another attempt at getting the food, the plate was pulled away from her. In the wild kingdom it was considered you had a death wish if you took food from an animal while it was eating. Annatefka bared her teeth and snapped at the young woman. Nefaltia was practically hold the girl back with a chair. She figured if Annatefka could not understand words, then she could understand the tones in one's voice. Very sharply and very angrily she yelled "BAD GIRL, SIT DOWN!!!"
      Frightened by the sharpness of the young woman's tone. Annatefka quieted down and became still. To set an example Nefaltia went to her own meal and began to eat. Annatefka watched closely how Nefalita ate with the utensils. With her talent of mimicry, the child copied the woman's every move. Out of the corner of her eye Nefaltia gazed with relief as she watched the wild girl eat with a spoon. Slowly and carefully she went over to Annatefka and kissed her on the cheek. With a sudden screech, the wild child squirmed away and hid for the rest of the day. Yet dedicated Nefaltia wanted to learn more of her. She felt a sort of kinship with this little beast but she didn't know how.

      Weeks later Annatefka had fully recovered. Nefaltia observed her behavior and actions from a safe distance. But she still wanted to learn more of her. She met with Quasimodo in the tower and explained her plan to him.
      "I shall return Annatefka to you but on one condition. That I remain with her. I want to study her so that I might be able to teach her to communicate."
      Quasimodo agreed to this, although he wasn't sure how Annatefka would like it.
      Demone, who had been staying in the tower, was very pleased to see his mistress again and the two spent almost an hour rubbing up against one another. Watching this, Nefaltia didn't care if Annatefka would never learn to read, write or be tame. All she wanted was for the child to be able communicate her feelings with speech. They started their lessons off with identifying objects around the bell tower. Annatefka would gaze at Nefaltia as she explained everything. Yet the woman could not be sure if Annatefka was just watching or if she actually understood. Days seemed like weeks for Nefaltia. Every day with Annatefka was a challenge. At times she wondered if it was worth teaching Annatefka. Perhaps it would be better if she just return her to the wild of the island. She would grow up living, acting and being an animal.
      That night while Annatefka slept, Nefaltia held the little beast's clothes. Suddenly she felt something in the pocket. It was small leather pouch. Carefully she opened it and quietly gasped at what was inside. Hidden within its folds was a tiny portrait of a woman. But not just any woman. It was none other than Sabine-Fatima Amere.
      "My sister," Nafaltia said in a silent, dry whisper.

      Clutching the small picture in her hand, Nefaltia ran to wake up Quasimodo. He was fast asleep in the other room.
      "Quasi, wake up!" Nafaltia hissed as she shook his shoulder.
      The hunchback jerked himself out of sleep and forced his blurry eyes to look at Nefaltia. Quickly they young woman showed him the picture.
      "That is my sister Sabine," Nefaltia explained.
      "You don't suppose this was any of Anna's relatives?" Quasimodo said, now quite wide awake.
      "I'm not sure, at first I thought the picture of the woman appealed to Anna, and she just happened to pick it up somewhere. But then the more I looked at it, the more it makes sense. In this picture, Sabine has a tiny beauty-mark by her mouth," Nefaltia continued.
      The two dashed into the other room. Annatefka had a beauty-mark by her mouth in the exact same spot.
      "Well, I'm convinced," Quasimodo said
      "This can only mean one thing. Annatefka is my niece," Nefaltia finally declared
      "Nefaltia, what happened between you and Sabine?"

      "Sabine and I were born in Medina, Arabia. She was my younger sister. I had made a pilgrimage to Paris in hopes for a better life. Anyway, Sabine had wrote to me. Saying there had been a birth and a death. There was the passing of her husband, who had died of a fever. Then there was the birth of her daughter, Sadira. In the east, it is customary if a husband died first, the wife was supposed to join him in death. I could not stand to see this happen to my sister and niece. So I sent for them to join me in Paris. Yet something happened..." Nefaltia stopped herself. A tear ran down her face.
      "I was told by somebody that my sister had been killed and my niece was taken away."
      Quasimodo lay a comforting hand on Nefatia as she quietly cried. She finally got control of herself.
      "Now there is no turning back, I simply must get her to understand speaking."

      The next few days were concentrated on getting Annatefka to understand letters and to sound them out. This proved very difficulty for the child. For eleven years her voice had gone unused. The sounds she made were low, husky and awkward. To her, getting her mouth, lips, tongue and voice box to work all at once was extremely hard and tedious. Next there came the task of putting the letters into words. Annatefka was indeed quick and intelligent, but some words continued to elude her.
      "Nefaltia, may I have a word with you?" Quasimodo polity requested.
     She left Annatefka to play with Demone while she went to talk with the bellringer.
      "You are tutoring her very well. She seems to be improving," Quasimodo observed.
     Annatefka had improved. She had become more lovable and affectionate. She even lost some of her vicious nature. But the girl still hadn't mastered speech. Whenever she wanted something, Annatefka would get Quasi or Nafaltia's attention by making a small mewing sound and pointing to the desired object. It was endearing but it did not satisfy Nefaltia. She always answered Annatefka's mewing sound with "You're a big girl, why don't you ask for what you want. I know you can understand me."

      Finally one cold February morning, Nefaltia took Annatefka back to her home on the Isle. She had given up all hope of ever reaching Annatefka. When their boat reached the bank of the Isle the animal girl bounded out. But instead of dispersing into the dark underbrush, she stared silently up at Nefaltia, as if expecting her to do something.
      Nefaltia thought it be no use but went along with giving Annatefka one last example of human language. "Home," she said, patting the earth. "Home," she repeated.
     A sudden light broke across Annatefka's face. Her eyes went as bright as sunshine. A low, husky sound broke from Annatefka's throat. It was not a growl or roar. But a word. An actual human word.
     "H-h-hooooooooommmmmmmme," Annatefka sounded.
      Nefaltia was ecstatic. She did not know whether to laugh or to cry. Grabbing the child in her arms, the woman hugged her tightly.
      "Yes! Oh my dear, yes!"
      Annatefka leapt into the boat and Nefaltia rowed back to civilization. But on the way a puzzled look crossed Annatefka's face. Timidly she pointed to Nefaltia.
      "Aunt," Nefaltia explained. "I am your aunt. And you are Sadira, daughter of my sister, Sabine-Fatima Amere."
      Quasimodo raced down to see what had happened. Seeing Annatefka still with Nefaltia puzzled him.
      "She knows. She can comprehend."

Copyright Audrey K.

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