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“Spider.”
The boy in question turns to the voice calling him from across the dock. To his surprise, it’s Neytiri who’s giving him an expectant look.
She has seemingly accepted Spider into the Sully family after her sudden change of heart towards him, but she still doesn’t put much emphasis on acknowledging him directly. This is why Spider glances over his shoulder at Lo’ak who he was walking with, certain that he misheard the woman, and that it’s actually her son who she’s addressing. The Na’vi boy looks just as surprised as him.
“Yeah, Neytiri? Need something?” Spider asks with suppressed hesitance.
The woman is silent for a moment, appraising him.
“Come,” she orders after a beat. Without waiting to see if he’s following, she turns and retreats into the family’s marui.
Spider looks over his shoulder again at Lo’ak as if to say ‘What the Hell?’, but he just receives a shrug in return.
“See you later bro!” Lo’ak hollers with a laugh before calling to his ilu and jumping into the water.
“Skxawng,” Spider murmurs before taking off after Neytiri.
He brushes past the beads that hang in the entrance of the marui, coming to a stop just inside the entryway. The flaps that are usually tied up during the day are lowered, and the snonivi have been retracted to free up space in the interior. The darkened space, lit only by a few candles, has taken on a cozy and intimate atmosphere.
“Lay down,” Neytiri directs, pointing towards a slightly raised, woven platform that has been placed off to the side of the pod.
Spider looks at the woman uncertainly. “What is it for?”
“Your hair looks and smells like an ikran nest. It is unwashed,” Neytiri states, as if her reasoning should be obvious. “I will take care of it.”
The boy blinks a few times, taken aback by the uncharacteristic show of concern from the woman. “Mrs. Sully, it’s ok. You don’t have to-“
“Bah. You do not do it right. I will wash. Lay down,” she interrupts, pointing at the platform again.
Realizing that there’s no way of politely escaping the situation, Spider slowly approaches the portable-looking piece of furniture and lays down on his back. His hands fold over his stomach, perhaps a subconscious protection of his exposed abdomen, but he’ll try not to read into that too much. Then he lowers the back of his head until it’s resting on the edge of a basin that has been positioned at the top of the woven surface. The heat from the steam immediately warms his scalp and a sour and acidic smell reaches his nostrils. What did she put in the water?
Neytiri takes a seat at his head, her knees on either side of him, and wastes no time dunking his locs into the water. The Na’vi woman must determine that the hair covering his kuru is acceptable enough, as she brushes it to the side to prevent it from being submerged.
She takes a small wooden bowl and uses it to pour water over his hairline and scalp. Though the smell of the water is pungent, he finds the temperature pleasant. His trepidation recedes, replaced by curiosity.
Once his hair is thoroughly soaked, Neytiri takes a handful of white powder from a nearby bowl and begins massaging it into his hair. Her fingers are nimble and efficient as she works the mixture into the gnarled strands. At the first scrape of Neytiri’s nails against his scalp, Spider feels the last of his resistance fade. His muscles relax one by one and his eyelids slowly droop closed. Neytiri is relentless yet gentle and it feels like she’s scraping years worth of grime off his scalp. He can’t see the water in the bowl but he’s certain it’s a sight to behold.
More water is poured onto his head before more power is applied. The massaging starts up again and Spider swears he is experiencing something divine. Neytiri takes care to work the solution into each individual loc.
A quiet sound starts, a soft humming in the woman’s chest. It takes a moment to process, but Spider recognizes it. It’s a song he has heard her sing in the past while cooking or taking care of one of her children while they were sick. It’s an almost mindless sound, one that once tainted his mouth with the bitter taste of envy.
Spider recalls a time when he was around eleven years old and critically ill. He caught some severe form of pneumonia and was forced to quarantine in the high camp medbay for nearly a fortnight. He remembers in his feverish haze wanting nothing more than to have someone there to sing to him and hold his hand or pet his hair as his body fought off the infection. He finds his throat tightening painfully at the memory.
The lather is rinsed from his head and Spider finds himself disappointed when Neytiri takes away the basin. He raises himself up on his elbows, presuming she has finished, but the woman pushes him back down.
“Stay,” she commands, though not unkindly. “I need fresh water.”
He allows himself to be pushed back down. There’s the sound of beads clicking together from the curtain at the entrance and then Spider is alone. His mind begins to race as he’s left in the darkened pod with only his thoughts.
Of course due to the strange nature of Neytiri’s sudden caretaking behavior towards him, they return to that fateful day that Jake held a knife to his throat. Neytiri had crashed through the trees like a nantang was on her heels and dropped to her knees in front of him. The way she looked at him with such raw relief and told him “Oel ngati kameie” was like something out of a dream, a moment he should cherish and look back on with fondness.
But in the aftermath of Jake nearly sacrificing him for the supposed greater good and Neytiri being complicit in the act, the words were too little, too late and left him feeling sick to his stomach.
But what could he do? What other choice did he have but to grin and bear it, to let Neytiri hold him close as he trembled the whole ride back to Awa’atlu? To speak up was to put himself, his precarious position in the Sully family, at risk. He’s the expendable one. That much was proven when there was no attempt to rescue him at first from the recombinant version of his dad. Shamefully, he admits that being with the bastardized version of Quaritch and the Recom squad felt more like having a true family at some points than he had ever felt with the Sullys or the McCoskers.
Then his dispensable status was further proven when Jake showed how willing he was to put Spider’s life on the line in exchange for the safety of his family and the Na’vi. If Tuk, or even Kiri, were put in the position that Spider was in, sacrifice would never have crossed Jake and Neytiri’s minds.
Spider hears the sound of the wooden beads clinking together before Neytiri sits back down by his head, interrupting his internal monologue. Remorse and guilt simmer in his gut, as though questioning the actions of the Sully parents is something he should be ashamed of.
Neytiri sets something beside his head and he turns to see a small pot with a sweet, floral smell emanating from it. “What’s that?” Spider inquires.
“It is a cleanser for the hair,” she explains in a patient voice. Gently, she turns his head back so that he’s looking up at the ceiling. After submerging his locs in the water again, she scoops up some of the off-white mixture and works it between her palms so that it begins to foam.
As she methodically begins working it into his hair, she describes it.
“The tsahik gave me the recipe. It is bark from the pxorna tree, carefully shaved so as not to disturb its seeds. It is boiled in water, cooled, and then strained to remove the bark. The liquid is cooled and then boiled again to evaporate the water, leaving the extract behind.”
The explanation seems labor-intensive enough, so Spider expects her to stop there. To his surprise, she keeps going.
“Payoang oil is added. Paywll leaves and syulang petals are crushed and ground into a paste. Then it all is combined and ready to use.” After Neytiri finishes the explanation, Spider’s mind is left reeling. The only sound for a minute or two is the sound of the foamy cleanser being worked into his hair.
“That sounds like a lot of work…” he finally says.
The Na’vi woman nods but doesn’t bat an eyelash. “It is a time-consuming process. But it is the duty of a mother to care for her family, and so I do it with love in my heart.”
Spider’s stomach does a flip at the insinuation in her statement. Once again, more water is poured over his head, this time rinsing the cleanser out. As she maneuvers his head, from side to side, she pauses for a moment.
“Your back is practically red. Have you been applying the Paywll leaf paste to protect your skin?” she asks.
Spider winces guiltily. “I ran out a couple days ago.”
Neytiri exhales sharply. “Bah. Why did you not tell me, child? Do I need to apply it to you myself?”
“I’m sorry,” he responds, truly contrite. “I just didn’t want to bother you about it at first, and then I just kinda forgot…”
She shakes her head. “It is the duty of a mother to care for her family,” she repeats. “It is not a bother. You will tell me if you need something from now on, yes?”
There’s a tightness in his throat as he nods. “I’ll let you know.”
“Good. Foolish child.” The words should insult him, but Spider swears he hears the same lack of bite and an undercurrent of fondness in her voice that she uses sometimes when Lo’ak inevitably gets into mischief. He fights valiantly to keep himself from smiling.
With a nudge at his shoulder, she helps him sit up. “Thank the Great Mother I had the foresight to collect extra paywyll leaves for more paste. I will apply it to you and then you will go sit outside so that your hair dries properly.” There’s clearly no room for argument in her words.
Spider sits in content silence as Neytiri first works some of the paste into his hair, explaining that it protects the fair strands just like it does his skin. Then she makes good on her promise to apply it for him, though she allows him to coat his limbs and chest.
She guides him out of the marui with her hand on his shoulder and sits him down on a spot not covered by a canopy.
Spider looks up at her towering figure and gives her a small but genuine smile. “Thank you, Neytiri.”
The woman watches him for a moment with an indecipherable look on her face before her eyes soften, a ghost of a smile coming to her lips in return. She briefly pinches a freshly washed strand of his hair between her fingers, the gesture almost tender. “You are welcome, Spider,” Neytiri replies softly. Then she walks her way back to the marui.
Spider looks out across the water, his thoughts swirling as he tries to come to grips with the significance of what just happened between them. Simultaneously, his heart feels lighter.
Behind him, Neytiri gives him one final look before retreating into the pod.