by Bob Nailor
The language was the tongue of Ana and her mother, though older and more complex. She understood most of what Itotia said as she repeated ritualistic instructions to the young women. The image of Father Bora in the bar rushed back to her and she smiled.
The twelve women suddenly bowed when Itotia finished the instructions. They stood silently, waiting. Itotia approached the first maiden and offered her a piece of meat from the tray. The young woman carefully accepted and held the offering in her cupped hands. The action was repeated until each of the young women had a small offering held in their hand. Itotia stood still as the old woman quickly retrieved the tray. “Eat.” She spoke in the slow chant of ritual. “For this is the flesh.”
The old woman returned to the twelve carrying a finely decorated golden bowl of wine. She paused between Itotia and the maidens, facing their queen.
“Drink,” she commanded, “for from this bowl you shall draw your life. The test is upon you.”
Together, the twelve looked at the scrap of meat in their hands. Some ate quickly and let their arms drop to their sides. Others trembled as they raised their hands to their mouths. The old woman walked from one to the next as each drank a mouthful. After they all finished, the assembly fell into a ghostly silence as the woman tossed the remainder of the liquid into the fire. It flared quickly, a puff of smoke rising with the flames.
Suddenly the fourth maiden from the right began to convulse. She fell to her knees, then forward onto her hands and vomited what she had just consumed. None of the others took notice but stared straight ahead and waited. Itotia smiled.
Tinga suddenly repeated what had just happened. Just as the other maiden had, she vomited violently and shook with convulsions on her hands on knees. The young woman who had stood beside her simply collapsed and lay still on the ground.
One near the far left of the line, was seized in convulsions and collapsed to her knees and threw up.
Itotia stood still, observing each woman. Tinga wiped her lips with the back of her hand and stood up. She held her head down and didn’t look at the others. Ana could almost feel her shame in failing the test.
Time passed.
Itotia finally moved to the woman who lay motionless on the ground beside Tinga. Itotia kicked her side. She didn’t move.
“You dare to scorn our traditions?” Itotia growled, her eyes fixed on the lifeless body. She kicked her again and again, in fury. “You have paid the penalty.”
Itotia stepped back. “Chosen, here,” she ordered and Itotia pointed to her side. Tinga and the two other women stepped forward. She then pointed at the reclining woman. “She has squandered her purity and shamed us all.”
The remaining eight women followed Itotia’s example and repeatedly kicked the fallen until her corpse was a distorted mass of gore.
Every instinct in Ana’s being cried out for her to do something. She took one step, but Aaron grabbed her arm and shook his head. She blinked in the night as she realized she shouldn’t intervene. This was their custom.
“The Chosen of the Chosen have been revealed,” Itotia said. “Let Aila, Janiza, and Tinga move forward.”
An old woman hobbled forward, her dark eyes glaring at the young women. There was envy in the look. She nodded, turned, and led the three into the jungle, away from everyone.
In the open distance, a large creature flapped its wings and flew away. The man was gone.
Ana let out a long breath of relief as a tear welled up, then rolled down her cheek. She remembered back to earlier in the afternoon when Tinga was preparing for the ceremony and had told Ana to leave. She had begun to think she had been the reason for Tinga’s failure.
Then in a flash like a blast of light in the dark of night, Ana realized what had been niggling at the back of her mind. The fire blazed in exactly the same spot where once had stood the hut where she had found Lúcio. It was all she could do not to scream out to Itotia. She boiled inside with a horrible fury.
Itotia watched the UWF group carefully as if analyzing every action. She sensed Ana’s swelling emotions and walked to stop a few feet in front of her. “You may now speak freely, my daughter,” she said more warmly than before.
“Where is my crewman?” Ana screamed. “What have you done with his body?”
Aaron grabbed Ana as she lunged forward. “Hold up,” he said. “What’s wrong, Dr. Carvalho?”
“Gads!” Neville yelled. “Have they cremated Paulo’s chap?”
Itotia smiled calmly as the outsiders fought their emotions. “He is well,” she said. “He is weak and continues to rest. His life fails, but still he lives.”
Aaron wrapped his arms around the struggling Ana to hold her back. “The man is deathly ill,” Ana cried. “How can you be so cruel?”
Itotia turned a cold stare at Ana. “Go to your tent, drink your tea, and sleep. In the light of the morning, you will see all is well.” Itotia’s eyebrows narrowed to red glowing slivers in the glare of the bonfire. “Now, go.”
Ana pointed at the bruised body on the ground. “What of her?” she demanded. “Do you just throw her body on the fire and burn it, too?”
Itotia glanced at the body then gazed at Ana. “Our tradition is simple. To be chosen, a woman must be a virgin. The fallen whore knew this before she declared herself prepared for the ceremony. She died for her lies and has disgraced her family forever. Our master and lord now calls the three acolytes. They will be tested one more time to see if they are worthy for the last honor.” She paused. “Tinga has been chosen. You will no longer see her. Do not ask for her.”
“Is she to be sacrificed?” Nancy asked. “Like a virgin sacrifice, or something?”
“She will continue to exist, if that is what you are asking.” Itotia gazed off into the distance, the fire’s light glinting on her red eyes. “Tonight is over, the fire will die. Go and rest for tomorrow will soon come.”
“Well, I for one, think this has been an interesting, even delightful evening,” Neville said. “It was filled with exciting events we can discuss over a rousing drink or two.” He rubbed his hands together. “Shall we go back to camp?”
Ana glared at Neville’s calloused lack of concern for Lúcio and stomped back to the camp.
Chapter Sixteen
THE TEA CONFERENCE
Neville marched off toward the campsite; Ana and the rest fell in line behind. They walked slowly with their heads down along the moonlit path. None of the younger ones wanted to be the first to voice what they all had just witnessed.
“She’s dead, isn’t she,” Barbara finally said.
“Come on, get real,” Marshall responded. “They don’t let people kill other people, even if they are natives.”
“Who are they? This 'they' you refer to, Marshall?” Nancy queried. “Are 'they' the Sadistic Ritual Murder Police?”
“How about that big cop back in town,” Wayne ventured. “The one who hit on Dr. Ana.”
“Do you see him around anywhere, slick?” Aaron snapped. “Maybe you haven’t noticed, but we’re a long way from the nearest emergency phone station. That woman draped in gold makes the rules here, no matter how many laws they pass in Brasilia.” The reality of their vulnerability dropped a wet blanket on any more conversation. They just shuffled along, sullen and on edge.
The atmosphere in the camp was the same. Ana fiddled with the camp stove in an attempt to boil water for her tea. Moema stood back, with her hands on her hips, and watched. Dr. Hastings sat at the table, arranging cups and teabags, knowing better than to speak.
Aaron walked directly to the stove. “Here, let me do that for you.” Ana’s glare drove him back to the table with Hastings. She finally gave up and handed the box of matches to Moema.
“Where do you think they’ve taken him?” Ana asked, her gaze in Aaron’s general direction.
“It’s hard to say,” he answered, cautiously. “Itotia said his illness is commonplace here. They must have a place to rest and recuperate.”
Ana
snorted. “Like a hospital?” she asked snidely. “You mean, like ‘Icamiaba General?’ Maybe, they’ve taken him to the local morgue.” No one laughed.
Neville Hastings cleared his throat. “Come over here. Everyone.” He motioned with his hand. “We need to talk.” He looked at his younger boss to make sure she knew she was included. "Moema, bring us some tea, please."
“I expect this is the first time many of you have seen someone murdered,” he said after they had all settled in and sipped a spot of tea. “Am I right?” Even though their heads were down, they nodded yes to the last person, including Ana. “It’s not the first for me, though I have to say, it was the most sadistic. Folks, this is the real thing. Each one of you are here because you say science is your life. Well, this is science. You are observers in the fabulous experiment we call life. You are here to take notes, and try to understand what is happening. It’s no different for reporters in war zones. They report. They don’t take sides or grab weapons. End of story.”
“It was a strange ceremony, and I still haven’t figured out what happened,” Nancy said. “I wonder how it works. Is the food poisoned? If they knew the one girl wasn’t a virgin, why allow the charade?”
“Stick to what you saw,” Ana cautioned. “How do you think they controlled or didn’t control who died?”
“I think there is more to it than what we saw,” Barbara added. “In fact, I think there is a lot going on here of which we are totally ignorant.” She turned to Neville, her face lined with anxiety.
“In a war zone," Neville started, "there is a general agreement between both sides not to target reporters and medical people. Here the Geneva Convention is worth about as much as a pair of snowshoes. People like us end up face down in rivers every day.”
“Then why were we invited to watch?” Marshall asked. “Was it a warning?”
“Only for virgins,” Wayne quipped with a lecherous sneer. “I’m safe.”
Ana’s eyes narrowed in a glare at him as she shook her head at the incredibly inappropriate remark. “As far as I can tell,” she said, “They don’t consider us threats. For some reason, they’re opening their ceremonies to us and don’t seem aware there might be a problem.”
Neville laid a comforting hand on Barbara’s arm. “Just because something upsets us, there is no reason to believe anything is aimed in our direction. Look at it this way. This ceremony has been part of their daily life for thousands of years, like hunting Easter eggs for us.”
“Well, I think if white tigers had started to show up, I’d say we’re in Vegas. That bird to man trick was pretty cool.” Wayne nodded his head.
“But there are men here, Dr. Ana,” Nancy added with a smile and a wink. “Cute men.” She hesitated. “And very nicely put together.”
“Well, they were Queen Itotia’s henchmen,” Marshall retorted. “She gets the cream of the crop. The rest are probably all three-hundred-pound midgets.”
“Well, we saw only four tonight,” Ana said. “Five, counting the birdman. I can only guess how many more were in the trees with bows and arrows, watching the ceremony and us. Perhaps over the next few days, they will gain the bravado to come into the village and we will get a better count of the population. What else, people?”
“We saw our first older person,” Wayne added, earning himself a smile. “Still, no children.”
“Just another observation, Dr. Ana,” Neville said. “Have you ever seen a primitive village with no dogs?” Ana and Aaron squinted in thought and came up empty.
“What did the girls in the ceremony eat?” Aaron asked the group.
“Meat,” Marshall answered. “Each one chose a tiny piece of raw flesh.” Aaron did not have to reply for his point to be understood all the way around the table. Ana shivered into goosebumps. She rubbed her arms to try and drive the chill away, but with little success.
“If we could have understood what Itotia was saying, it might have made more sense,” Marshall whined. “Is that what Edson meant by ‘language of the gods’ back at the bar?”
Megan unsteadily raised her hand like a schoolgirl. “What I didn’t understand was…well, everything,” she said, her head cocked in confusion. “Why do they call those women ‘chosen’. Chosen for what?”
“Yeah,” Wayne added. “They parade twelve virgins around, kill one, three throw up, and those three are considered the chosen of the ‘chosen.’” He made little parenthesis-signs with his fingers. “It doesn’t make sense.”
“It may not make sense to you, Wayne,” Ana said. “But it makes sense to them. Ever try to explain Holy Communion to a non-Christian?”
“Hmmm,” Neville said through pursed lips. “Eat of my body? Drink of the cup? Not too far removed from what we just saw.”
“This is why we’re here,” Aaron added. “Primitive people use ceremonies and rituals to make sense of their limited world. There is some way in which all this makes perfect sense to Itotia and her people. It’s up to us to figure out how.”
“But, why make a person up-chuck?” Wayne asked. “Did they deliberately taint the food for the ceremony and it was a random call or did Itotia know ahead whom she would pick?”
“Only through proper preparation can a maiden be ready for the ceremony,” Barbara said and moved closer to the warmth of the camp’s fire. “I heard Tinga tell Dr. Ana she had to leave so she could prepare.”
Ana nodded in agreement. “Tinga was quite adamant she didn’t want to fail and was totally preoccupied with her preparations.” Ana sipped her tea. “But, she coveted the honor she won tonight. Whatever that is, it’s basic to this tribe’s existence.” She lifted her eyes to the shadows dancing beyond the camp, to the embankments and the trees.
“Well, I’m sure there’s a hidden secret here,” Barbara pronounced with an air of certainty. “Maybe Paulo’s man figured it out and that’s why they killed him.”
“You’re one creepy and freaky chick,” Wayne said. “Is everything a conspiracy with you?”
“There is a secret here,” Ana agreed. “Of that much I am very sure. Exactly what it is, I have no idea and we’re going to have to find it before it finds us.”
“You’re the linguist, Dr. Neville,” Wayne said. “Why do you think these people speak Portuguese? Better yet, what did you think of the mumbo-jumbo during the ceremony?”
“Mumbo-jumbo?” Neville repeated and cocked an eye at Ana. “Was it just mumbo-jumbo to you, Dr. Ana?”
“Wait,” Aaron said pointing back and forth between Neville and Ana. “Are you telling me you two understood what Itotia said?”
“It was a form of Serbian,” Ana admitted. “I understood some... okay, most of what she said. Itotia informed the chosen that their god, Ejup, would smile on the decision made tonight and looked forward to joining with them.”
“That is so cool,” Wayne said. “Only on the case a couple of hours and already we’ve cracked the ‘language of the gods’ mystery.” He rubbed his hands together vigorously. “Hey! Wait a minute. What does joining with them mean?”
Neville shook his head. “Like a student, you’ve jumped to conclusions. All we’ve done is ascertained that these people speak a form of Portuguese and what sounds like Serbian. If you think we’ve got a nice, neat solution, tell me how an undiscovered tribe in the middle of the South American jungle came to speak a Slavic language?” He smiled at Wayne, whose face wrinkled with embarrassment. “We are still a long way from ‘cracking the case’ as you call it.” He winked at Aaron. “Besides, now you have a second mystery to solve.”
Until that moment, Paulo had squatted with his coffee at the periphery of the kitchen. “This is much more than a game,” he said in a voice so low they hardly heard him. Every eye turned to see his face lined with concern. “I have worked with UWF for years, taking the groups into the jungles and safely taking them back out. This is the first time I have feared for my life. These are new natives to me. I have heard legends of Icamiabas and even the mulher morcego. You laugh but t
he jungle knows the truth.” He turned to Ana and took her hands. “Dear Dr. Carvalho, take a serious look around you and listen to what you see, not what you think. These Indians are white.” He pulled at his skin. “I am from Brazil, is my skin white? Even the Portuguese who came from the new world were not as white as that queen or her kind.”
Ana knew where the conversation was going. “Paulo, you have been a great guide but you allow superstitions to play tricks with your mind. Your men have let their imaginations run rampant. We are not in the dark ages. There is no mulher morcego, nor are there any Amazon warrior women.”
“Listen to your words, Dr. Carvalho. There are no men in this village and most of the women I have seen here are the warrior class.” He stood to leave. “In my backward village, as you just called it, the women prepare the meals, bear and raise the children. Do you hear even one child?” He turned to walk away. “Your learning has made you blind to the truth. Listen to what your eyes and ears tell you while you still can.” Every pair of eyes focused on their guide as he walked away into the darkness.
Chapter Seventeen
A JUNGLE DREAM
Aaron rubbed his hands together, as if in anticipation of something delightful in contrast with the goosebumps on everybody’s arms at Paulo’s departure. “I’m ready for another spot of tea and my hammock. Would anyone care to join me?” He paused and then added with a twinkle, “In a spot of tea, I mean.”
The thought of a warm brew and brief escape from the night’s reality produced a tableful of smiles and nodding heads. Moema had been listening from the camp stove and now cautiously stepped toward their table with another ceramic flask in her hand, double the size of the one Ibiaci had given Ana.
“Excuse me, Dr. Ana,” she said shyly. “The old shaman left this for you.” She set the ornately decorated container in the center of the table.
