At the End of the World

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At the End of the World Page 8

by Mark Macpherson


  ‘The reason for these portals,’ Michelle continued. ‘Was to conjure up Vision Serpents. The carvings represent them as large snakes with open mouths and inside the mouth would be a god or an ancestor. Vision Serpents were, in a rough way, how the living communicated with their ancestors and, to a lesser extent, the gods.’

  ‘The other way around really,’ Arthur interrupted.

  ‘Arthur is right, ‘Michelle said although she was annoyed at Arthur’s interruption. ‘But, the Vision Serpent was brought into being by the living performing blood-letting rites. We only know about the nobility since they commissioned the carvings, but the lower classes may have performed similar ceremonies. We really don’t know. The loss of blood and pain combined with fasting would cause visions that were interpreted as communications from ancestors from the other-world. We can guess at the importance. The visions that were set in stone were often used to ensure the legitimacy of an accession to the throne. A communication from the dead would help quite a lot.’

  ‘I’ve seen some of the bloodletting images in your book. They’re gruesome,’ Hamish said.

  ‘Yes,’ Michelle said. ‘It’s amazing what people can and will do to themselves.’

  ‘And others,’ Arthur said.

  Michelle did not appreciate Arthur interrupting.

  ‘At least, Arthur,’ she said. Her voice was firm. ‘With these bloodletting rites, the ones I’m talking about with Hamish,’ she emphasized, ‘it was the kings and queens doing it to themselves and not to others.’

  Arthur did not want to argue.

  ‘There are a number of famous lintels and stela further up in the ruins,’ Michelle said to Hamish. She pointed in the direction they would walk. ‘We’ll see them in a minute. Those are the ones with women perforating their tongue, with a stingray barb or an obsidian knife, and pulling a length of rope through.’

  ‘I know. I’ve seen them in your book. I felt sick thinking about it,’ Hamish said.

  ‘Yes,’ Michelle said. ‘I can’t imagine the pain. But the women just look like they are going about their business, don’t they? They’re unflinching. But then, I guess they would not be represented any other way. The women had to be as stoic as the men in the presence of their ancestors, the gods and, most importantly, those they ruled. The blood was collected on bark paper strips and then burnt. Out of the pain and the smoke from the burnt offering of blood a Vision Serpent would appear.’

  ‘I think that ceremony would bring out a vision in anyone,’ Hamish said with his face drawn into a bitter expression.

  ‘But,’ Michelle continued. She smiled. ‘If you’re squeamish about the ladies, then the gents would have bothered you more I assume? Did you imagine perforating your penis and collecting the blood and showing your subjects the blood stains? Eh?’ She teased him.

  ‘Yes. OK. OK. Enough,’ Hamish said. His face was drawn and his eyes were narrowed as if he could ward off the image Michelle had conjured.

  Michelle laughed. She knew how men reacted when damage to their genitalia was mentioned.

  Hamish changed the subject. He knew there were more gruesome rituals that Michelle could discuss. Many not involving willing participants.

  ‘So,’ Hamish asked. ‘The glyphs that surround these images are really language?’

  Michelle was silent for a moment. She had enjoyed Hamish’s reaction and would have liked to continue with the same subject but Hamish had chosen his diversion well. The Mayan glyphs were her life’s passion.

  ‘Yes, of course,’ Michelle said. ‘You can read it, write it and talk it. Just like any other language. The KulWinik speak a variation. There is still a bit we don’t know but, mostly, we can decipher it.’ Michelle moved close to a nearby stela and touched the glyph carvings. ‘As you can see, Hamish, it’s an intricate language.’ She traced her finger around a square shape filled with a multitude of curved lines and dots. She sounded three syllables.

  ‘That’s what all of this sounds like,’ she said. She laughed. ‘It’s not shorthand written from dictation.’

  She traced her finger around another square design but did not say anything out loud.

  ‘Writing the language,’ she continued. ‘Was restricted to high level officials and probably nobles or, in some of the names we’ve found, to a member of the royal family. A brother, or an uncle to the king or to one of his wives. Writing and getting your message across about how important were your claims to the throne, or recognizing who helped you get there, couldn’t be entrusted to just anybody. Then, like now, everything was politics and positioning. The scribe was an artisan and would have been near the top of the social hierarchy.’

  Michelle smirked at Arthur, then her face blossomed into a genuine smile. Her enthusiasm for the Mayan languages always made her happy and generous.

  ‘Just like scientists now, eh Arthur?’ she joked.

  The three older scientists walked on in silence, following the direction taken by Jim, Pep’Em Ha and her brother.

  Chapter 19

  Jim and the two young KulWinik quickly left the older people behind. Once they were well away, Jim walked backwards smiling at his two following friends. He marveled how their friendship had happened and laughed out loud. He barely believed he was in ancient ruins, in the Mexican jungle, and his friends, sort of, owned the place. His grandfather had told him he was lucky, and special, to have the opportunity to live with the KulWinik. He agreed but could never tell Hamish.

  Jim spread his arms, as he walked backwards, and said, in English, ‘This is awesome.’

  The two KulWinik laughed. They understood him.

  Pep’Em Ha grabbed Jim’s shoulders and spun him around. She pointed up a long slope landscaped by many terraced areas. Wide stone steps led to the top.

  ‘We’ll go up there, to the temple of Hachakyum, and wait for your grandfather,’ she said.

  Jim laughed pointlessly, simply because he was happy. He had temporarily forgotten about his mother and his father. And his brother.

  They climbed the stone steps and raced through terraced areas. They passed a scattered group of tourists, walking slowly and reverentially, wending their way, stopping frequently to marvel and take photographs. The three ignored the tourists but one of them addressed Jim in Spanish thinking he was a young Mexican. Jim opened his eyes wide to signal his incomprehension. He queried Pep’Em Ha.

  ‘They would like to take our photograph,’ she said to Jim, in Maya. ‘He’s asking your permission.’

  ‘Why did he ask me?’ Jim asked.

  ‘Normal reason, I guess,’ she said. She shrugged to show the insult did not upset her.

  ‘You’re OK with that?’ Jim asked, in Maya.

  ‘Yes,’ she said.

  The tourist spoke to Jim again, a little impatient.

  ‘No comprendo,’ Jim replied in a faux Spanish accent. He pointed to his own chest and laughed, ‘KulWinik,’ he said.

  Pep’Em Ha calmed the surprised tourist, in Spanish. The tourist frowned and stared at Jim, perplexed by the behavior. Jim didn’t care. He heard Pep’Em Ha say, ‘New Zealand’, and thought she was explaining his strangeness by reference to his ancestry, from a place so remote and exotic that she hoped it could explain all eccentric behavior.

  The two KulWinik allowed themselves to be directed and placed, so the tourist could take their photographs with their ancestor’s creation as backdrop. They smiled and tried to look regal at the same time.

  The tourist thanked them but snubbed Jim. The three resumed their walk across the terrace and to the next set of stone steps.

  ‘Doesn’t that bother you?’ Jim asked.

  ‘You mean, having our photograph taken?’ Pep’Em Ha said.

  ‘Yes. It would bother me,’ Jim said.

  ‘No,’ she said. ‘It’s what’s expected.’

  ‘It seems a bit demeaning,’ Jim said.

  ‘It can’t be if we are not demeaned by it. Can it?’ she asked.

  ‘No, I guess not,’ Jim
reluctantly agreed.

  ‘Anyway,’ Pep’Em Ha’s brother interrupted. ‘The joke’s on them. My father has said the KulWinik only came to this region at the same time as the Spanish. So, we are no more local to Yaxchilan than the Mexican tourists. But we don’t tell them that.’ He laughed.

  The three walked on for awhile. Pep’Em Ha frowned, she was annoyed with her brother.

  ‘That’s not true,’ she said to Jim. ‘That’s not what our father has said. He,’ she meant her brother, ‘wants to believe that. He thinks it’s better that way. He likes to think that he’s no different than the tourists. It will be easier for him to leave the village.’

  ‘Why would you say the wrong thing?’ Jim asked Pep’Em Ha’s brother.

  ‘She’s wrong. That is what Yax K’in says.’ Pep’Em Ha’s brother had lost interest.

  They continued their climb. When they reached the next terraced area she spoke angrily to her brother, ‘I don’t know why you’re ashamed. There’s no reason to be.’

  ‘So, what does Yax K’in say?’ Jim asked, when Pep’Em Ha’s brother did not respond.

  ‘Yax K’in has told us,’ she said to Jim, ignoring her brother. ‘That when the Spanish came, our people came back to Yaxchilan.’

  Chapter 20

  Arthur and Hamish struggled to keep up with Michelle as they climbed the stone steps towards the temple of Hachakyum. She was younger and fitter and had to slow her pace to not drift ahead. Hamish felt no embarrassment when he frequently stopped to catch his breath. While at each standstill Michelle waited impatiently.

  The white tunics of the young KulWinik were visible at the top of the steep climb that lay before them.

  ‘Are we going to wait for the others here or do we have to climb up there?’ Hamish examined the ascending path and inclined his head, to not waste energy raising his arm to point.

  Arthur smiled at his friend’s hopeful suggestion.

  ‘No, sorry Hamish. Yax K’in asked that you and Jim have a close look at the temple of Hachakyum.’

  ‘Damn,’ Hamish said quietly under his breath. He knew Arthur could not deny a request from Yax K’in. He stood slowly then continued up the slope. When they reached the top, and joined the three others, Arthur spread his arms as if conjuring the large structure out of thin air.

  ‘This is the temple of Hachakyum, Hamish,’ Arthur said.

  Arthur asked Pep’Em Ha, in Maya, ‘Have you been here with your father?’

  ‘No,’ she said. ‘He hasn’t been here for years. The last time he came was with my oldest brother, who now lives in San Cristobal. He’s told me he will only return here once more. That’s the time he will bring me here.’

  Hamish drifted off after Jim, who had walked around the side of the temple. Hamish did not feel well, he took a drink from his water bottle but he wanted a coffee and a sit down. He looked for somewhere suitable in the shade.

  ‘Come over here, Hamish,’ Arthur called to him. ‘Stand under these lintels and look at the carvings. These are the famous ones.’

  When Hamish did not enthusiastically rush over, Arthur called impatiently, ‘Come on. There’ll be plenty of time to rest on the way back.’

  Hamish ambled over to where Arthur was standing in one of the entranceways. His face angled up to view the underside of the lintel. He was preparing a lecture on its significance.

  Hamish touched the stonework on the side of the entrance, to steady himself. The world rumbled and became soft.

  He was overcome with nausea, like he was riding on an ocean swell. He imagined Kate. Sorrow and despair washed over him but Kate’s face was not hers, it was the fleeting image of the Mayan woman in his dream. Instead of the pain of separation, Hamish felt the despair of death. The voice in his head screamed. His legs buckled and blood drained from his head. He put both his hands against the stonework so it could take his weight and he would not fall. The world shook harder as the ground bucked him like it was trying to shake him from it. The world did not want him.

  He crumpled to the ground and put his head between his knees. He was going to faint. He felt pain in the back of his thighs as he sat on a broken ceramic pot. He observed the pain, but could not move.

  ‘Are you all right, Hamish?’ Michelle was concerned. Arthur squatted next to him with a hand on Hamish’s shoulder.

  ‘Yes, I think so,’ he said. ‘It’s a bit hot for me, I think.’ He tried to sound flippant.

  Hamish recovered quickly and by the time Jim and the two KulWinik had returned from the other side of the temple, Hamish was standing again.

  ‘Don’t say anything to Jim. Please,’ he asked Arthur.

  ‘That was awesome. Did you feel that?’ Jim asked.

  ‘Yes, we felt it,’ Arthur said.

  ‘Kisin is angry,’ Pep’Em Ha’s brother said and then laughed. ‘Our god of the underworld must have learned something he did not like. That is what my father would say.’ He laughed again, pointedly, to show he did not think likewise, hoping to annoy his sister.

  ‘Well. That was exciting,’ Arthur said as if responding to an entertainment.

  The three younger ones moved quickly off and down the steps away from the temple, leaving Arthur, Michelle and Hamish again in their wake.

  Chapter 21

  The sun had set before their return to the KulWinik village and the headlights of the homecoming car played over the sides of the huts. Hamish and Michelle went straight to the dining hut. Jim disappeared with the two KulWinik. Arthur wanted to eat as well but went see Yax K’in first.

  ‘That was an eventful trip to Yaxchilan,’ Arthur said to the KulWinik leader, who was sitting in his hut.

  Yax K’in smiled. ‘Do you remember the trips we have made together? It has been many years since we have been there. Perhaps, we should go there again. Together. Once more.’

  ‘Pep’Em Ha said you will go there only once more.’

  ‘She said that?’

  ‘Yes.’

  Yax K’in grunted. ‘She is young and does not yet know what to not say. Yes. Once more will be necessary. It may be soon.’

  ‘Why? What do you want to do?’

  Yax K’in smoked. Arthur knew the silence was the answer to an unwanted question.

  Arthur got out his camera and fiddled with the display until the digital screen showed the first in the series of images of Jim covered in butterflies. He held the camera for Yax K’in to see.

  ‘Pep’Em Ha said you may be interested in these,’ Arthur said as he flicked through the images until those of Jim were complete.

  ‘Are you?’

  The image on the display, the one taken after the shots of Jim, was Michelle standing next to a stela, smiling at the photographer.

  ‘Butterflies land on people, especially when Pep’Em Ha is there.’

  Yax Kin smoked for a moment before he asked, ‘Did the little grandfather go through the Labyrinth?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘What did he hear?’

  ‘I don’t think he heard anything. He was surprised how dark it was.’

  Yax K’in grunted.

  ‘Jim got lost in the Labyrinth though,’ Arthur said and smiled.

  ‘Pep’Em Ha was with him? In the Labyrinth?’ Yax K’in was visibly agitated. He stopped smoking.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Jim is unharmed?’

  ‘Yes. Why?’

  ‘I felt Kisin rumble while you were away,’ Yax K’in said, quickly, before Arthur pursued a question he would not answer.

  ‘Yes. It was quite strong at Yaxchilan.’

  ‘Did the little grandfather go all the way to the temple of Hachakyum? As I asked?’

  ‘Yes. The earthquake happened when we were there.’

  ‘Did Kisin speak when the little grandfather touched the temple of Hachakyum?’ Yax K’in asked.

  Arthur was surprised at the interrogation. It was unlike the old leader to take such an interest in minutiae.

  ‘I don’t remember if Hamish touched
the temple or not,’ Arthur said. ‘And your broken god-pot is still there, by the way. The Yaxchilan attendants haven’t cleared it up. That’s been a few years hasn’t it?’

 

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