Child-Rearing (1)
Their daily routine had always been a light breakfast followed by exploration, but Chester and Monia now had a new chore to add to the list.
“Hey… is this the right one?”
“I think so. Black Wind’s drawings are a little hard to make out, though.”
That chore was catching the bugs and insects Black Wind had sketched for them—the ones best suited for feeding a baby.
Summit children grew up on insects. They simply didn’t have the teeth for meat yet. Most creatures sprouted teeth quickly, but the People of the Summit took as long as humans before their teeth came in. So the adults caught bugs, crushed them, and fed the babies the juice—always careful to leave some of the mashed pulp mixed in so the little ones could swallow it easily.
Fruit came next. Some babies refused the insect juice, so the parents would start with something sweet and, the moment the child let its guard down, slip the bug juice in.
Rex was a picky eater and hated the insect juice, so Chester and Monia not only hunted for the sweetest fruits he liked—they planted them right in the yard. The fruit trees already reached Monia’s waist. In another month or two they would be ready to harvest.
“Hup!”
Monia jammed her axe into a crack in a fallen log and twisted hard. She yanked with the axe while driving her legs against the wood; with a loud crack the trunk split clean open.
“Whoa.”
She stared, astonished. Having never suffered a truly serious injury before, this was the first time Monia had truly felt the power of the Grace of the Summit. Every time she looked at her legs she was amazed all over again.
When they had climbed the cliff she had finally reached her limit, slipped, and fallen—breaking her leg badly. The Grace of the Summit had healed the bone and made her body stronger still, but watching Chester recover and grow stronger was one thing; feeling it in her own flesh was something else entirely.
“Your leg’s been fine for a while now. You should be used to it.”
“I know, but I just can’t get used to it. My whole body feels too good.”
“Well… yeah, I guess that makes sense.”
Monia had never lived as healthy a life as Chester. The Grace’s effects were impossible to ignore. She had grown taller, and for reasons she couldn’t explain her figure had only improved.
“We should change your clothes, too.”
“Why? These are fine.”
The problem was that most of the extra height had gone into her legs, so the clothes tailored to her old body no longer fit. The cloth wrapping her chest simply covered a little less, which was still manageable, but the skirt now barely hid what it needed to hide. The slightest movement sent it fluttering open.
“We still have to cover everything that needs covering. Bug bites and scrapes from leaves heal if you drink the water, but better safe than sorry.”
“Mm… all right. I’ll make new clothes.”
“Do that.”
Chester pried the split log wider and peered inside. A few grubs, startled by the sudden destruction of their cozy home, wriggled in alarm. Once they had collected the grubs, breakfast for Rex was ready. Chester and Monia sat down right there and began the morning meal.
“Come on, Rex. Time to eat~.”
At Monia’s call, Rex—who had been clinging to Chester’s belly—turned his head to look at her.
“Ba… bab. Ba.”
“What’s he saying?”
“Isn’t he trying to say ‘food’?”
“Ohhh! He’s already talking! Our Rex is so smart. It’d be nice if he’d start clinging to me sometimes, too.”
“Hahaha.”
Summit babies spent their early years glued to their parents. Just as the adults casually scaled trees and cliffs, the children climbed all over their parents’ bodies—playing, living, and learning how to move. Monia, however, couldn’t keep her balance when Rex scrambled over her, and after a few near-falls he had decided to stick exclusively to Chester.
Monia filled Rex’s feeding cup with grubs and other insects, then began crushing them with her bare hands. At first the squishiness had been revolting, but she was determined to raise this Summit child as close to the real way as possible. With practice, the work had become ordinary.
While Monia mashed the soft bugs, Chester crushed firmer fruit into a second cup. An apple-like fruit crumpled pitifully in his grip and then burst. He mashed several more varieties, strained the pulp just enough, and handed the cup to Rex.
Rex was only days old, yet he had already grown enough to hold the cup and drink by himself.
“Everything on this island grows so fast.”
“Humans are the slow ones. Most animals grow up quick. Cats can have kittens before they’re even a year old.”
“Huh. So is Rex growing slowly, then?”
“Who knows? Like I said, every creature’s different. Black Wind says he’ll be an adult in five years, so we can take our time.”
“Okay!”
Monia watched Rex happily drinking his fruit juice, then carefully began pouring the insect juice into the same cup. Bug juice and pulp swirled into the sweet liquid and disappeared into Rex’s mouth.
Once Rex finished, Chester and Monia ate their own meal. Rex seemed fascinated by their food. Watching Monia savor the fish with such obvious pleasure, he declared—with great determination—that the moment he grew teeth, fish would be the first thing he ate.
While Chester and Monia grilled the meat they had prepared earlier, Rex clambered all over Chester’s body. He perched on Chester’s head to watch a tiny bird gliding high above—only to startle when a much larger bird swooped in and snatched it mid-flight. Hanging from one arm, he swayed like a pendulum while studying a flower nodding in the breeze. Then a bug crawled into the cup he had abandoned, and he dropped down to investigate. He stared at the insect, gave the cup a poke, and when the startled bug scrambled out he flailed after it with both hands.
His arms worked fine, but his legs were still underdeveloped, so he moved in a half-crawl, sometimes hauling his whole body forward with his arms in little leaps. Chester and Monia, who had only ever seen the breathtaking agility of fully grown Summit people, found it endlessly entertaining to watch Rex earnestly learning his own body.
While they ate, Rex chased the bug with single-minded focus—until it flew straight into his eye. He yelped and bolted for Chester, burrowing frantically into his chest, rubbing his eye and whimpering. Chester and Monia set their food aside and began soothing him.
Ant was better at calming Rex than either of them. They held the baby out; Ant carefully licked his cheek. Rex immediately released Chester, threw his arms around the ant-wolf, and rubbed his face into Ant’s fur.
“Aww, so cute.”
“Ant looks a little annoyed, though.”
“But isn’t he still adorable?”
“Yeah. He is.”
Even during meals they had to stop whenever Rex got into trouble. At this curious age he tried to stick his hand into the campfire without a shred of fear, lost his grip while climbing Chester and went flying to the ground, or spotted a rabbit nearby and charged at it growling like Ant—only to tumble head over heels. Each time he cried or laughed and thoroughly enjoyed himself. The only cost was that Chester and Monia’s meals stretched on forever.
“Whew. Finally finished.”
While Monia smothered the fire with dirt until not even an ember remained, Chester let Rex gnaw on his finger. The baby suckled eagerly at the leftover meat grease. Chester watched him in silence, suddenly remembering a story his mother had told him.
As a child Chester had been so curious that anything that caught his eye went straight into his mouth. His parents had exhausted themselves keeping him from disaster. Once he had eaten something he shouldn’t, come down with a high fever, and his father had run without sleep—day and night, over mountain after mountain—to reach an alchemist in the city and get him treated.
Back then Chester hadn’t understood. Not the hardship his parents endured raising him, nor the love that let them endure it. Those were stories too complicated for a child.
Looks like we’ve got a long road ahead of us.
Without meaning to, Chester saw his younger self in Rex. He smiled and stroked the baby’s head. Rex was already asleep, still suckling contentedly on Chester’s thumb.
“All right, time to work. You remember which traps we need to check?”
“Of course.”
“Good. Shall we?”
“Yeah. Oh—and be careful not to jostle him awake.”
“I know.”
They walked through the forest, chatting softly, watching Rex even more carefully than they watched their surroundings.