The Way Things Have to Be

The sun beat down on Indo’s back; hot dust floated around and settled in the air on a slight breeze. The herd of elephants moved slowly, one foot in front of the other. Their destination: the water hole. It had been a long time since Indo had a bath and he was looking forward to the cool water. 

A shadow crossed over his head and he peered up into the face of his mother. Her ears flapped a few times and a breeze drifted off of Indo’s face. “It is warm today,” he remarked. 

His mother nodded. “We should be at the water hole shortly.”

They padded along, falling behind the rest of the herd. Indo admired his mother. Lately, the rest of the herd had been distant. He didn’t understand why no one would play with him like they used to. Or at least walk by his side as they trudged from place to place on the lonely savannah. 

“I have something I need to talk to you about, Indo,” Mother said. 

Indo nodded his head to let her know he was listening, but before she could share Jitu fell back to join them. “Neema,” he said, addressing Indo’s mother, “Come to the front.”

Without another word, Indo watched his mother follow Jitu to the front of the herd. He flapped his ears more aggressively. Jitu was always doing that. He didn’t understand why his mother was always at Jitu’s beck and call. He was the biggest elephant, a head taller than everyone else. His tusks were longer too. Maybe that was why his mother followed him so often

He glanced around and noticed his cousin Kesha dragging behind. He stumbled over and slapped her with his trunk. 

“Hey!” Kesha turned quickly, but started to laugh. “You’re always doing that, Indo!”

“What can I say, I have to add some fun to the day. We’ve been walking for ages!”

She shook her head. “What do you mean? Walking is all we do - I don’t mind it very much.”

Indo glanced at his friend. “Of course you don’t. You’re always the center of attention! The cousins can’t leave you alone and Jitu even let you keep watch last night.” He tried to keep the bitterness out of his voice, he just wasn’t used to being left on his own so often. A few months ago, he was the one the cousins spent the most time with and was given responsibilities in the herd. 

“Everyone cares about you, Indo. Maybe it’s just a part of growing up. We are almost five years now.”

“But some things don’t need to change, right?”

Kesha let out a breath of air and her trunk gave a small squeak. “I’m going to miss you, Indo.”

He watched her wander forward, joining her mother as the herd reached the water hole. Usually, he enjoyed the sights of the antelope and wildebeest dipping their noses into the cool, brown water. Today, he could even see a group of giraffe gathered in the shade of a distant tree. But something tore at him. Why had Kesha said that she would miss him? It didn’t make any sense. Where was he going? Was that why everyone was being so distant, they were trying to kick him out of the herd? His feelings rumbled inside of him, leaving him feeling frustrated and abandoned. He watched his mother and Jitu as they stood knee deep in the murky water. They seemed to be in an intense discussion. For some reason, Indo wondered if all of this was Jitu’s fault. Something about him made Indo feel like black ants were crawling up and down his legs and building nests inside his trunk. 

Later that night, he watched as Kesha joined some of the older elephants in watch. The younger cousins had already coiled up underneath their mothers to sleep. It was now or never. He turned away from where his mother was lying down and stepped over to where Jitu was standing. The older elephant regarded him with a narrowed eye.

“Jitu, I just wanted to come and offer myself for the watch tonight.” He hated how timid his voice sounded.

“Has your mother not spoken to you, youngling?”

Indo blinked and shook his head, his ears flapped weakly. “My mother? No, I guess not. What’s going on?”

Jitu let out a low rumble. “It is for her to tell.” 

He turned around, leaving Indo to stare at his back. The night air was cool, but it did nothing to stop a feeling like fire rising from his legs to his head. He rushed around Jitu and stood his ground. “How can you turn your back on me? You’re supposed to be taking care of the herd. Aren’t I a part of it?”

Jitu lowered his head so that he was level with Indo. “Speak to your mother, boy, before you do anything you will regret.”

Indo watched him walk away and turned his head. So it was Jitu’s fault! He must have said something to the rest of the herd. Maybe that’s why they were speaking today - his mother must have been defending him!

He heard a crunching sound behind him and turned to watch his mother approaching him. “Indo, we need to talk.”

“No kidding! Guess what, Jitu just threatened me. And today, none of the cousins were playing with me. Kesha even said she was going to miss me. I don’t understand.”

His mother regarded him for a moment. She wrapped her trunk around his. “Come, walk with me.”

He followed her past where the herd was sleeping and towards a nearby baobab tree. She turned; the starlight made it hard to see her as more than a shadow. “This is a very hard day for us, Indo. For all of us. But especially for you.”

“What do you mean, Mother?”

“Indo, do you ever wonder why you are the only male in our herd, besides Jitu?”

Indo glanced towards the shape of a large elephant standing watch. He had never noticed before, but Mother was right. All of the full grown elephants were mother’s like his. “I guess I’ve never thought about it. Does it matter?”

His mother smiled and wrapped her trunk around him again. “Jitu is the bull in our herd. He is the male here. When you were young, it didn’t matter. But now, you are older. Your tusks have grown in. You will be bigger than me soon. Soon, it will be hard for you and Jitu to share the same space.”

He glanced again at the shape in the distance. He felt sure it was Jitu, watching them. What was Mother saying? That either he or Jitu would have to leave? He considered this. It would be nice not to feel all fiery every time Jitu looked his way. He considered what it would be like to live in a herd without Jitu. 

“It will be hard to say goodbye, but I’m sure we’ll all be fine without Jitu.” Indo said.

Mother regarded him. “What do you mean? Jitu’s not going anywhere. This is his herd.”

Indo looked up and caught his mother’s eye. Was she saying what he thought she was saying? “Do you mean, I’m the one who has to go? But you’re my mother. And this is my herd! I can’t leave.”

She shook her head. A cloud that had been covering the moon drifted away and a ray of light illuminated them. “There is no other way. It is the way things have to be. It has happened before and it will happen again. I’m sorry, Indo. I thought you knew.”

A shiver ran through him and he couldn’t seem to catch his breath, just like it sometimes was when the rains came and cooled the air until the herd had to huddle together to keep warm. “No, I didn’t know.”

It was his turn to wrap his trunk around hers. He closed his eyes and, for a moment, pretended like he was small enough to fit underneath her again. She always kept him safe. He had never gone hungry or cold when she was around. Now, he was leaving the only thing that he knew and stepping into a world he didn’t quite understand.

When he opened his eyes, she had turned and walked away. He did the same, stepping into the savannah’s night.