‘Yes. It’s good that the broken god-pot of Hachakyum is still outside his temple. It kept Kisin quieter. There may be life left in it, if it was able to resist Kisin so strongly.’
Arthur stood and stretched. He was tired and had lost the will to attempt to tease a meaningful answer from Yax K’in.
‘Thank you, Arthur,’ Yax K’in said as dismissal while Arthur stood. ‘Tomorrow we will find the place for you to dig.’
Arthur left Yax K’in’s hut and headed towards his own hut. He had decided to rest and not eat but his stomach rumbled on the way and he changed his mind. He went get a quick bite of anything that was on offer.
Chapter 22
Arthur’s world darkened when he opened the fly-screen door to the dining hut. He had a visitor and the visitor was not happy. Michelle’s face was rigid with anger. Hamish was trying to be inconspicuous as he silently ate. The atmosphere was tense.
‘Hello, Roberto,’ Arthur sighed. He wished he had gone to his hut and slept. Although, he knew Roberto would have come and woken him.
‘I’ve been waiting most of the day, Arthur. In this god awful place,’ Roberto said, in Spanish.
‘I took Hamish to Yaxchilan. I wasn’t told that you were coming.’
‘I don’t need to warn you, do I? Is there something you don’t want me to see? Perhaps, like today. Spending the museum’s money on tourist trips,’ Roberto said.
‘No, of course not,’ Arthur said. He was too tired for Roberto. It was always a battle with him. Each word was scrutinized like Arthur was under oath and being cross-examined.
Roberto was the director of finance at the Museum in Mexico City. Although he was not Arthur’s superior all research funding required his approval. Roberto believed a Mexican national should be in Arthur’s position.
Roberto probed his plate of food that had hardly been touched.
‘The food here is abysmal. I don’t know how the Mexican nationals on your staff stomach this stuff.’ He pushed the plate away. ‘I spent the whole afternoon waiting for you. I was served a disgusting cup of something. They said it was coffee but it didn’t taste like any coffee I’d had before.’
Roberto sat back in his chair. He was careful to not display his enjoyment.
‘If you are on an archaeological expedition Arthur,’ Roberto continued his tirade. ‘Perhaps you should act like you are on one. Why isn’t the team staying closer to Yaxchilan? I saw them all here this afternoon, playing cards and reading books. Some were even drinking beer. I have to assume we were paying for that. In the meantime, you were having a jaunt about the countryside. I don’t know why the museum has to pay for your retirement holidays. You can be assured that the director will hear about today.’
‘I’m sure he will,’ Arthur said.
‘I know you have an affinity for these people,’ Roberto said, although he considered the KulWinik barely human. ‘But, why should I pay them to accommodate the museum’s team and not be provided with, at least, an adequate service? Like real food.’
Roberto loved seeing the older man at a disadvantage.
‘Can you tell me that?’ Roberto asked, knowing any answer was irrelevant.
‘It’s the differences in perception. Isn’t it Roberto?’ Arthur said. His annoyance reduced his tiredness. ‘I could have employed a cook, I could have negotiated with landowners to stay close to Yaxchilan, I would have had septic and waste disposal issues to resolve. Instead of doing the archaeological work I am supposedly employed to do. I did look into all of that Roberto. The planning, the alternate options and the costing for everything is in my funding proposal. I have to assume you’ve read it. Have you? Otherwise you wouldn’t have approved it. Or, were you too busy trying to look good?’
Roberto smiled. He enjoyed his jousts with Arthur. He did not expect to win a knockout blow. His was a plan of attrition to rid the Museum of him. Roberto had been in Chiapas on other business and thought he would drop in, unannounced. He had expected to be inconvenienced and you never know what might come up in evidence, Roberto had thought. Arthur’s day off at Yaxchilan was not an offense but it would help enhance the perception that Arthur was no longer a reasonable investment.
There was a lengthy silence as the two men smiled at each other. Roberto’s smile was supercilious, Arthur’s was angry and tired.
‘So, what can I do for you?’ Arthur said eventually.
‘Nothing. I just thought I’d pop in. I’m leaving first thing in the morning. I had hoped to talk to you this afternoon,’ Roberto said.
‘Have they given you a hut?’
‘Yes. They moved your American friends. The geologist and his grandson. We’re not paying the grandson too, are we?’
‘No, of course not.’
‘Good. Is that the geologist there?’ Roberto indicated the silent Hamish.
‘Yes,’ Arthur said.
‘Doesn’t speak Spanish, I assume?’
‘No,’ Arthur said.
Arthur sat down next to Michelle and helped himself to some of the cold food.
‘When do you expect to be finished, Arthur?’ Roberto asked.
‘Soon,’ Arthur said.
‘Soon is not an exact term. Not as far as I understand Museum finances. I believe the funding will be exhausted in a week, at least that was the date you proposed.’
Arthur ate.
‘Are there any liabilities that have not been accounted for yet?’
‘No, it’s all been paid for. All the major items. There’s just the wages and some incidentals,’ Arthur said.
‘Anymore holiday trips expected as part of the budget? I don’t think there’s much room left for those items,’ Roberto said. He had used a false soft voice.
‘There’s just cataloguing to be finished. Michelle has almost done her bit.’
‘Good. I will look forward to seeing you back in Mexico City, next week, I would assume?’
‘Yes, probably,’ Arthur said.
Roberto wondered if he might pursue the ‘probably’, but there was little to gain by further targeting Arthur’s vagueness.
‘I’ve had a little chat with your assistant here,’ Roberto said meaning Michelle, knowing that would annoy her.
‘I’m not his assistant, Roberto,’ Michelle said angrily, accepting the bait. She disliked Roberto. She hated how Arthur was demeaned by him. She preferred Arthur’s problems to be caused by her alone.
‘No, of course you aren’t. With the amount of money your services require, the Museum couldn’t afford you on staff,’ Roberto said.
‘I failed to understand at the time of your proposal,’ Roberto said to Arthur, ‘and I continue my lack of understanding, why someone as expensive as Michelle,’ Roberto intentionally did not associate Michelle with skill. ‘Why she was needed on a project as, relatively, small as this one. It’s still a substantial expense to the museum, but you know what I mean Arthur.’
‘There’s Mayan writing to decipher, Roberto. It’s all in the proposal.’
‘Of course,’ Roberto paused as if he had not thought of that. ‘It’s all in the proposal. It was a good proposal Arthur. Well thought out and well planned. But, whatever you discovered here could have been copied and sent to Michelle. In her busy, and expensive,’ Roberto smiled at Michelle, ‘schedule she could have decoded the writing you discover while she remained in the USA. Or perhaps, for the cost of an airline ticket and a few nights accommodation, she could have come to Mexico and seen the originals, after the fact. I have the impression, Arthur, that you’re expending Museum money to holiday with your ex-partner.’
Michelle stood up abruptly. Hamish thought she was going strike the Mexican man but she simply glared and clenched her fists before walking out of the dining hut. She melted into the darkness outside. Roberto watched the fly-screen door until it had swung shut after Michelle had crashed it violently open.
‘Did you two ever marry?’ Roberto said. He knew the answer.
‘No,’ Arthur said quietly.
‘What a pity. Or a blessing.’
Hamish felt he should leave too. He stood, held out his hand to Roberto and said, ‘Good night.’
Roberto shook Hamish’s hand, while he remained seated and said, in English, ‘Good night. It’s been a pleasure to meet you.’
Hamish stopped outside in the darkness as he tried to remember which hut he had been told his clothes and other belongings had been moved to.
‘Such a nice man, that one. Quiet, for an American, that is. What’s his name?’ Roberto asked.
‘Hamish. And he’s a New Zealander,’ Arthur said.
‘Really? I wouldn’t have known by his accent. I haven’t seen his grandson. Is he nice? And where is he?’ Roberto asked.
‘I don’t know where he is.’
‘Hamish is the geologist, right?’ Roberto asked trying to be annoying.
‘Yes. You know that Roberto. You just said it. What’s your point?’
‘He looks too old to be a geologist. He’s a good friend of yours, is he? Another one on holiday here?’
Arthur laughed, loud and long. He nearly choked on his food. Roberto was perplexed.
‘Too old for a geologist?’ Arthur said, once his laughter had subsided. ‘Age, in geology, is a distinct advantage, I would have thought.’
Chapter 23
Roberto left, without farewells, before dawn the next day. The car headlights and a loud conversation with his driver were calculated to wake the village. Arthur lay in his hammock, after Roberto’s departure, with a re-found relief that he had only to cope with the immediate problems of an expedition and dwindling funds.
He got out of his hammock, dressed in the dark and shuffled to the dining hut. He tentatively opened the fly-screen door, half-fearing Roberto was still sitting there. The hut was empty. He decided to get a cup of coffee.
Inside the kitchen hut, where the KulWinik prepared meals for themselves and for visitors, a tiny fire-orange glow flickered as a shape moved to and fro intermittently blocking the light. When Arthur was close he heard the murmur of women talking in low voices. Pep’Em Ha was with her mother. He quietly greeted them. They momentarily stopped work and then continued preparing tortillas.
Arthur asked for some coffee.
‘Breakfast will not be ready for awhile,’ Pep’Em Ha’s mother said brusquely.
‘No, no. That’s OK. I don’t want any yet. Just coffee if that’s not too much trouble.’
‘Pep’Em Ha will bring it to you.’
Arthur went back to the dining hut. He sat under the single bare bulb light hanging from the ceiling and looked at the papers he had brought from his hut but he did not read them.
He had been upset by Roberto, more than usual. He could usually ignore those bureaucratic problems but in his pre-coffee, sleep inertia state, he worried about his work at the Museum. He did not know what he would do if he could not work in Mexico or if he was too old for academic employment in archaeology. What else would he do? Come back to the KulWinik village? Without Michelle? He could not stand that.
His anxiety about himself led him to think about Hamish. He had expected a more demonstrable reaction to grief from his old friend. He had expected a little conversation about Kate and his family but Hamish had said nothing. Although, he was not sure that talking would help. At the time of his own distress with Michelle, he had not wanted to talk to anyone although both Hamish and Kate had tried.
Maybe, Arthur thought, Hamish isn’t affected? Perhaps he’s just getting on with things, like looking after Jim. Arthur’s thoughts drifted as he headed towards sleep again. Although Jim needs no looking after. He would bet on Jim surviving in a hostile world more than his grandfather. He’s an amazing kid, he thought. What? Seventeen? He’d pass for twenty, easily. Older even. He gets on with everyone, my team members, the KulWinik. Even Michelle.
Arthur’s mind kept wandering. He should have stayed in his hammock but he did not want to walk back to his hut. I’m glad I was able to convince Michelle to come. Roberto was right. That was the reason. I wonder if she still thinks of those years? Sometimes, just sometimes, he thought, I wonder what it would be like to sleep with her again. No, not really. Yes, of course I do. All the time. I wonder where her husband is? I wonder if she knows? Or cares? Arthur was nearly asleep. His eyes had lost focus and his head was nodding. Pep’Em Ha came into the dining hut with a pot of coffee and a mug. She placed it next to Arthur which woke him. His body shuddered with the small fright.
‘Thank you, Pep’Em Ha,’ Arthur said a little too quickly and loudly, proving his surprise.
Arthur’s thoughts began chasing a thread that began with how much Pep’Em Ha had grown since he lived in the village. Each further thread circled and, eventually, returned to Michelle.
His coffee cooled and remained undisturbed. He slept with his head on his forearms.
Chapter 24
Michelle was the first to arrive at the dining hut. The sun had barely risen as she stood inside the doorway and watched Arthur as he slept. He was no longer the younger man she had loved. He was older and, at that compassionate moment, frail, she thought. Ten years had changed him. She quietly guided the fly-screen door shut and noticed the weathered marks and lines on the back of her hand. She felt the weight of her own age. It had happened to them both, she thought. The sleeping Arthur caused a wave of sadness as strong as a pang of hunger. It may be time to look forward, she thought, and not backward.
She sat next to him and closely examined his sleeping face. She gently roused him and he woke with a frown and incomprehension. Michelle’s face was close, he smiled. It was a pleasant way to wake.
Michelle had thought she would be with Arthur for the rest of her life. She had left her husband for him. They had lived the KulWinik subsistence lifestyle together. The villagers had refused further contact with missionaries and anthropologists. She had done that. The two of them had helped save their ancient way of life. They had fought, and almost won, the battles to save their forest.
It had taken ten years but, perhaps, she could begin to love Arthur again. She returned Arthur’s smile and placed her hand on his shoulder.
Arthur and Michelle remained in the dining hut all morning as the members of the team and Hamish came in for breakfast, ate and then left. Arthur discussed his budget problems and they talked of their expectations for the work to come. They complained about Roberto.
They were alone when Pep’Em Ha came into the dining hut in the mid-morning. She stood by the door as they talked. She hesitated, she could not interrupt. She wanted to be more like Jim, confident in the company of elders. However, the execution of that intent was too daunting. Her village social training was not so easily overcome. She had been forthright to enter and stare. The next step, to approach and intervene was beyond her. However, she was pleased, she would not have been so bold before Jim’s arrival. She was happy as if she had made progress in conquering a malaise.
Michelle noticed Pep’Em Ha.
‘Hi, Pep’Em Ha. What would you like?’
‘Yax K’in has asked me to tell you that he’s ready to go.’
‘He’s ready? Did he mention when?’ Arthur asked.
‘He did not say a time,’ Pep’Em Ha said, truthfully.
‘I’ll go and find him,’ Arthur said to Michelle, ‘and see exactly when he wants to go.’
‘Do you know where he is now?’ he asked Pep’Em Ha.
‘Yes. He’s outside. He’s ready to go,’ she said.
‘Now?’ Arthur stood quickly.
Yax K’in was at the end of the dirt road into the village, staring into the middle distance. He patiently waited as if he would remain there for as long as it took for the next task to begin.
‘Yax K’in,’ Arthur said to him in greeting.
Yax K’in smiled at both Arthur and Michelle.
‘So, you’re ready to go are you? I wasn’t told,’ Arthur said.
‘Yes, we may go.’
‘When?’ Arthur a
sked.
‘We may go now.’
‘OK,’ Arthur said with soft exasperation. Nothing happened for long periods of time and then, without warning, he was expected to react immediately. When Arthur had complained of that behavior, at other times, he had been told, ‘Haven’t you been waiting for this? Now we will do what you want.’ Arthur could not explain the Western ideas of planning and notice.
Arthur asked Michelle, in English, ‘Are you OK to go now? I’ll go and get a car.’
‘I guess so. Is it far?’
At the End of the World Page 9
