They followed their Taino guides, whose names they could not pronounce, to the interior where Guacanagari’s new village was located. The chief looked greatly improved, his legs were no longer bandaged and he stood outside his hut smoking.
He greeted them with his usual exuberance, bowing his head up and down and grinned showing his blackened teeth.
“I saw you in my dreams last night,” he said to Juan, pointing to his head and putting it into his hands. Juan nodded, humoring the old man. “You found a flower.” He pointed to a plant. “And you could not let her go. That’s your destiny.”
Pablo chuckled beside him. “You are going into horticulture, Juan.”
Juan didn’t find it funny. There was just something about the old man that had him fascinated. He could barely understand the old man’s words but he had the gut feeling that what he was saying was eerily right.
Why would he find a flower and not let it go?
“I have something for you,” Guacanagari ushered them into his square hut and invited them to sit on the low stools that was a staple in every chief’s hut.
Guacanagari pointed to the corner of the hut and grinned slyly. His men carried big chunks of gold to Juan and Pablo.
At first they were not certain that what they were seeing was right but after staring at the piles of the yellow metal that the men kept bringing, they were convinced.
Juan looked at Pablo dazedly. “Are those what I think they are?”
Pablo was speechless, “I won’t have to work for the rest of my life,” he kept muttering. “I won’t even have to dig for gold. We can’t tell anyone,” he clutched Juan’s arm. “We can’t let the others know, not even Colón.”
Juan nodded, “this is it, paradise with healthy chunks of gold. I was right to come to this place.”
“Where did you get these?” He asked pointing to the gold.
Guacangari nodded and smiled.
“Where did you find it?” Pablo asked slowly.
The men in the hut responded, “Caona.”
“Where’s that?” Pablo asked puzzled.
“I think they are saying that this is caona.” Juan said feeling light-headed. He doubted that what the men found today was as much as the pile in front of them. Huge chunks, minus the rocky soil were clinging to the precious stone; he felt like kissing the chief.
He could do anything he wanted to do now; he was richer even more than his father and mother put together. His brain started running, if he could just find the source, he and Pablo could secretly get the gold and then go back to Spain.
“What will we take it in?” Pablo asked excitedly, “how can we sneak it back to the ship without anyone knowing?”
“We can tell the others that we are going to try to find other sources and then we come back here and camp with these people; they will find the gold and we can both fill up our chests. After that, we can tell the others.”
“That’s a good plan,” Pablo nodded.
“Cacique Guacanagari,” Juan bowed before the old man, “thank you.”
Guacanagari nodded.
“We will come back for more,” Juan gestured to the man.
He and Pablo took many trips that day with their treasure chests and they stayed with the generous Chief for days, while the eager natives carried the precious metal and filled up their treasure chests.
******
Ana and Orocobix spent most of the day cuddling in the hammock. They were some ways from the nearest hut and were not disturbed.
“What is that hut, over there?” Ana asked, pointing to a small hut, tucked between trees.
“That is the where the zemis are kept.” Orocobix looked over her head as the hammock swayed gently in the breeze. “It is a sacred place. Only the Behique or the Cacique can enter. The Behique takes care of the interior, exclusively.”
“I like it here,” Ana whispered to Orocobix. “I mean here and now. A big part of that is because you are here.”
Orocobix rubbed her arm; the amulet he wore for protection grazed the flesh of her shoulder. “I like it here too and it’s because you are here.”
“Sometimes I wonder what you would do in my world,” Ana looked at him. “I have a job in marketing and I hardly have time for myself. Would we stay together?”
Orocobix grinned, “I don’t know what marketing is.” He struggled to pronounce the unfamiliar word.
“It is like convincing a tribe to exchange goods.”
“Oh,” he gently rubbed her lips. “I would stay with you, no matter what you do. I am serious Ana, my love is forever.”
“How long are we staying here in Maima? I am anxious to explore as much as I can.”
“For six more moons. Oromico will be having an arieto of thanksgiving; his fourth wife just gave birth to a son.”
Ana chuckled, “how many children does Oromico have?”
“Many.” Orocobix smiled. “He is a virile man. He boasts of this in the council meetings.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
It was Ana’s first naming ceremony. She sat with the rest of the wives at a place of importance, to the right of the caciques and nitayanos. Everyone was gathered in a thick circle and Ana could see hundreds of eager Taino faces, waiting for the naming of one of their newborn.
Orocobix sat beside Oromico his back straight. He looked proud and handsome on the little stool that was studded with gold. His stool was in the shape of a bird and it had a jutting beak and gold nuggets for its eyes.
Oromico started the proceedings by offering a pipe to the zemi. The statue was placed in the center of the circle; its ugly head intricately carved.
The Behique of the village sat near the zemi. He had painted himself in all black. Oromico bowed down low before the image and then stood up holding out his arms for the child, which was delivered to him by its mother. The new baby was wrapped snugly in cotton cloths, the pure whiteness of the cloths shone in the late evening sunshine.
Oromico held up the child to the heavens and declared, “I now name you Cobo.”
The men of the family were offered dye in a clay bowl and they dipped their fingers in the mixture and touched the baby in the forehead. This continued until all the male members had finished. The baby was given back to its mother as it squealed in protest at all the fingers touching its skin.
Oromico sat down and the Behique, his eyes crisscrossed with lines, got up to speak. “We are the good people, and we came from the origins of the heavens.”
The people were deathly quiet as the old man spoke. “The existence of the Taino came about when Deminan and his three sky dweller brothers, walked on the sky and the spirit world of the islands. Orphaned by their virgin mother at birth, they wondered the sky islands,” his voice dipped and the silence was deafening, they had obviously heard this story many times before but they still lapped it up.
“They wandered through the skies and there received creative powers from ornery, old shamans, who carried it from even farther back.
This way, out of gourds, they created the oceans and fish; out of a turtle, the islands; from spirit babies, toads; from toads, the rains and waters; from clay and stars, men; from jobo trees, their prayer statues; and from the river manatee, exquisite source of sustenance, women.” The Behique finished speaking and sat down.
An elder got up to address the gathering, his white hair was short and thick, “the Tainos are the keepers of the way. We were entrusted with the knowledge of right and of peace. Let us always be keepers of the way, though evil spirits in the form of Caribs attack us. Let us always live as one. There will come a day, when Yocahu will send the keys to the way, and then we will all live peacefully in Coyaba.”
He sat back down and Ana felt like shouting at them all.
Where did they get this convoluted mixture of nonsense?
What they were saying did not make sense, ‘sky walker brothers,’ ‘out of spirit baby toads?’
She felt her anger rising. She stood up and went into the cente
r of the circle. All eyes were on her. Orocobix was shaking his head vigorously, to tell her no.
“You speak nonsense,” Ana shouted. “The virgin birth is so burdened by your myths and your stupidity, that it is not clear anymore. Christ was born from a virgin but he died to save the world. The earth was created by God; he created man and woman from his own image.”
The stony looks she was receiving were not good, but she paid them no heed. Why not tell them what was going to happen to them and get it over with?
“In a few moons, another nation will come to this island. They will kill you all. They will come in strange canoes; they will give you red caps,” she covered her head and hoped the gesture spoke for itself, “and stupid glass beads. Do you hear me? Kill them before they kill you. Are you listening to me, people? They only want gold…they will work you to death…starve you and give you their diseases...”
She was breathing hard, the shells and gold that she had around her neck made a jingling sound. She struggled against a feeling of helplessness. Men changed history but these men were up against something they could not even comprehend.
Oromico and the medicine man stared at her hard; they were not exactly hostile but Ana felt near tears.
“Do you understand me?” She spun around and looked in the faces of the people. They were just staring.
“Are you stupid cows? Can you not understand this is a warning? You will all die.”
Guani and Macu were standing beside each other nearest to her, their eyes holding identical sad expressions. They nodded with a wisdom that Ana did not expect. Everyone else was still, except for Orocobix, who took her hand and dragged her from the circle of people.
The silence was ominous as Orocobix frog marched her to a hammock, far away from the proceedings.
She could hear the drums starting after the tense interlude. The crude circular instruments, made from hollowed wood sounded eerie in its intensity.
Oromico drank from a calabash and all the men followed. They then proceeded to smoke the rolled up tobacco leaves. Men and women got up to dance, their supple bodies moving around the clearing as the sun begun to set on the horizon.
“Those drums mark the sound of the death knell to this era,” Ana said biting her lips.
Orocobix dragged in a breath as he stared at Ana, “what is a cow?” His voice was husky and he sounded tired, “you called us stupid cows.”
“It’s a big dumb animal that is contented as long as it has food.”
“Are you hungry Ana?” he asked gently.
She nodded, disappointment and pain warring in her head that he had not gotten the point.
“Well this cow is hungry,” he said and grinned at her. “But I’m not stupid, and until these people, who are worse than the Caribs, show up now, there isn’t much we can do is there?”
She shook her head and smiled slightly.
“Then let’s go eat. Oromico won’t be mad with you. He will quiz you tomorrow; we probably won’t leave here as planned.”
He entwined his hands in Ana’s and they went back to the feast. He pulled her straight into the circle where men and women were dancing; he wielded her around until she was dizzy. She felt intoxicated by the dance alone as she spun to the hypnotic beat.
Maybe Columbus was years away. Probably they had nothing to fear. It would be best if she could just calm down and enjoy the life.
For one minute, she wished the Spanish would just mind their own business in their corner of the world. She could see herself living here happily ever after. She thought giddily.
“How often do you people have these dances?” Ana gasped, after a particularly fast number.
“Every time there is something to celebrate.” Orocobix’s eyes were alight with laughter. “We cows know how to dance, as well as eat too.”
They ate flat cakes made of cassava. The cakes were thinner than the bammy and a dip made of iguana stew was served with it. It was so delicious Ana ate until she was overfull. The food kept coming as the naked servant girls went around with large, flat planks of wood that they used as serving trays.
She left the circle, while Orocobix was talking to some of the elders, for a breath of fresh air, far away from the scent of tobacco.
She found the white woman, who she had seen on the first day at Maima, standing by a copse of trees, she was facing the sea and tears ran down her cheeks.
“I was waiting to talk to you, from the day you came,” she said in English.
Ana jumped, she was so startled to hear English that she knew her mouth was agape and she could do nothing to close it.
The woman laughed, “I am Agita. That’s what they call me here. A while ago when you gave that speech; I heard the words and I figured you were familiar with the language.”
Ana nodded, still speechless.
“I don’t remember how I got here, except that I was washed up on some island. The natives there sold me to Oromico in exchange for some duhos. He carried me to Yamaye, made me a servant girl and then I married Guam.”
The young woman’s blue eyes were slightly sad. “I love it here, I heard what you said about people coming and it scared me and then I got excited. Maybe I can get to go home? I don’t even know where home is.” She looked sadly at Ana again.
Ana was still standing with a slightly dazed expression as she heard Agita’s heavily accented voice.
“What I can’t understand is how can a native woman speak my language? Where are you from?”
Ana laughed out loud. “I am from here.”
“No you are not,” Agita looked annoyed, “no one here speaks like you do. I just want to have an idea of where I am from, I can remember nothing.”
“I am from the future, Agita. I fell asleep and woke up here looking like this in someone’s body that has my name. There are many possibilities, but it would negate what history has always thought to be true, that there were no other people here before the Spanish came.”
The laughter or incredulity that she expected from Agita did not come. “That means you really do know what is coming then?”
The quiet acceptance was too much for Ana to bear and she hugged Agita tightly. “Yes I do know.”
“Can I hear about those possibilities again?” Agita asked wistfully.
“Well you could be English…” Ana spoke way into the evening to Agita, her newfound friend.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Juan was sitting around the campfire with the native men; their half-naked bodies were cast in shadow. Sometimes their pleasant expressions would be cast in sharp relief by the flickering lights of the crackling fire and their garishly painted faces would look almost comical. He was beginning to understand the natives.
They filled up the treasure chests with the gold that they already had. When it came to working they were not really keen, unless it was planting food, and even in that they had a unique system of doing things. The women seemed to be the busiest workers in the tribe. At times, he would see men resting in their hammocks, because their wives were pregnant, while the same pregnant wives would be working. He found this an odd practice and had a good laugh with Pablo about it.
There were so many things about the islanders that was fascinating, but he was beginning to get frustrated with the language barrier. There were many things that he wanted to know; how did they feel about the strange men in their midst?
Could they be as happy as they appeared?
He distrusted their show of happiness and was wary of any of the natives who came too close to him; he imagined that they were biding their time to get revenge on the Spanish men who were increasingly brutal.
Pablo said that he was distrustful of humans in general. Might be he was, or might be he was just missing home. He found himself longing for his father’s lectures, his sisters vacant twittering and his mother’s fussing. All the family traits that he had found so unbearable in Spain were now looking more attractive.
The four days with Guacanagari was enough for
him. He arranged for some men to carry his chests on board the ship. After directing them where to stow it, he thought seriously about going home. He longed for a woman of his own kind, to laugh and to share ideas with. He was staring into the darkness after the natives left when Pablo walked into his cabin.
“How are we going to explain why we are not overly interested in the gold mining?” Pablo’s expression was worried.
“We will go with Colón on his quest to find new lands,” Juan grinned. “Then as soon as it is humanly possible, we will escape this paradise and go back to the place where people speak our language.”
“Is that homesickness I hear, young Vizconde? Pondering after mama’s cooking…can’t stand iguana stew?” He smirked at Juan and ducked as his friend threw a tin cup at him; it missed his head by an inch.
“Mmmm, can’t even throw… a sign of skirt strings attached to his arms,” Pablo howled, as the second tin cup connected with his head. He winked as his friend grinned.
******
Who would have thought that Arawak’s were exposed to other cultures?
It stood to reason that if Agita could have washed up on some nearby land and brought here that other people had attempted the journey to the new world.
“Stop thinking so hard,” Orocobix whispered in her ear. She was lying in his arms in a different corner of Oromico’s hut.
“I am sorry to wake you,” Ana whispered back, the family home was not as crowded as last night, some of the wives and their children slept in their own huts.
Oromico snored in the corner in a drunken stupor. Once again there was a steady drizzle outside, and the cocoon-like feeling she experienced in Orocobix‘s arms returned.
He squeezed her tighter to him and nibbled on her ear, “tomorrow both of us are going swimming. I am going to teach you how to catch a sea turtle.”
Ana shuddered dramatically and he laughed.
“Ana, I just want you to know that we are not all cows. I believe you; I will try to convince Oromico that you are right. Maima is the largest settlement in this section of the island. We have no weapons like the Caribs; perhaps we should approach the coming people peaceably.”
The Empty Hammock Page 9
