‘Would I have died, if Pep’Em Ha hadn’t been there?’ Jim asked, his anger gone.
‘No,’ Yax K’in said firmly. ‘You would have rejoined your brother.’
Jim laughed. The tension broke. ‘It’d get smelly in the Labyrinth with all the bodies piled up, wouldn’t it? They should put a warning sign outside,’ Jim said. His smile faded against Pep’Em Ha’s worried expression. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said to her. He did not want to upset her.
Yax K’in expected behavior commensurate with experience and Jim was young. He smiled, he understood Jim’s need for humor.
‘No, Jim,’ he said in a softer voice. ‘No-one dies in the Labyrinth. A chosen KulWinik would journey to Xibalba. They would need to be summoned to return to this world. Pep’Em Ha stopped you beginning the same journey as your brother.’
‘And what about my brother?’ Jim asked apprehensively.
‘Yes, yes,’ Yax K’in said. He was impatient to continue to the temple of Hachakyum. ‘Of course. He is waiting. That is why we are here.’
Yax K’in moved around Jim and continued down to the grand plaza. His face was set, focussed and unresponsive. He would answer no more questions about the Labyrinth. Jim waited with Pep’Em Ha.
‘Do you think I’m a god?’
‘Don’t bother him anymore with that, please?’ Pep’Em Ha asked Jim. ‘Let’s let him do what he has to do for now. We can talk with my mother when we return to the village.’
She had been holding his wrist the whole time and only gave it up after they began to walk again, following Pep’Em Ha’s father.
It was a busy day at Yaxchilan and many tourists stared at Yax K’in and Pep’Em Ha. Soon there was a buzz around the ruins as people became aware of the two KulWinik like it was an unannounced royal visit. The tourist groups with guides became especially agitated when the extraordinary circumstance of a visit from the leader of the KulWinik was explained.
Jim walked behind, feeling like an attendant. He wished he had dressed as a KulWinik, although it would have been embarrassing anywhere other than in the village or at Yaxchilan with Pep’Em Ha and her father.
Yax K’in climbed steadily to the temple of Hachakyum. He stood before the ancient facade inspecting it as if returning home after an absence and he was scanning for casual damage. His eyes wandered down from the stone structure to the base of the temple. His face broke into a smile.
‘Ah!’ he said with pleasure.
He gathered pieces of broken pottery and sat down on the topmost step. He fiddled, like he was engaged in a puzzle, and fitted the pieces together into their original, unbroken, order. His face broke into a larger smile when he succeeded.
He put the pieces of pottery into a bag and stood, ready to return to the village.
Chapter 10
The morning Yax K’in went to Yaxchilan, Arthur and Michelle sat side-by-side at the table outside Arthur’s hut. They quietly talked of Arthur’s problems with Roberto. They reached no resolution.
Michelle turned her head away from Arthur and peered into the jungle that began a few meters away. She thought of the years living in the village with him. That was a satisfying life, she remembered. She searched for the break in the jungle that led to their old milpa and found it. She turned right around and fondly examined the hut behind her, the hut she had lived in with Arthur. She smiled.
‘What?’ he asked.
‘Nothing,’ she said as she gently touched his hand and then squeezed it.
Arthur’s mobile telephone rang from inside the hut. He retrieved it and then sat down again while holding it at arms length like it was dangerous.
‘It’s Roberto. Should I answer it?’ he asked her.
‘That’s up to you,’ she said.
The telephone stopped ringing while Arthur was still deciding.
‘I’d better call him back. You never know,’ he said as he pressed the button to return Roberto’s call.
‘Roberto. It’s Arthur. You called?’
Arthur listened and did not say anything for a long time. His face was vacant as if he was being mesmerized by a tone from the telephone.
‘Yes. All right.’ Arthur placed his telephone on the table and resumed his vacant staring.
‘Not good news, I expect?’ Michelle asked.
‘What?’ Arthur asked, his mind elsewhere. ‘No. Not for Hamish.’
Arthur flattened his hands on the table.
‘He’s obtaining a deportation order. “Worried after Hamish’s violent display yesterday.” That’s what Roberto’s calling it. Unbelievable, isn’t it?’
Michelle shook her head.
‘He’s got in touch with Kate too,’ Arthur continued. ‘She wants Jim back in the States. Apparently Hamish yelled at her, over the telephone, before he came down here,’ Arthur said. ‘Shit!’ he exclaimed. ‘He yelled at Kate? That’s all?’ Arthur was incredulous.
Michelle laughed bitterly. ‘I’m glad that’s not a universal requirement. The number of times I’ve yelled at you,’ she said.
‘Jim’s still a minor, theoretically, and if his grandmother wants him back in Boston I don’t know what we can do about it,’ Arthur said.
‘That would not help,’ Michelle said. ‘Jim’s his focus at the moment.’
Arthur agreed. ‘Do you think we should tell him?’ he asked.
‘It would be better coming from you, wouldn’t it? Better than from Roberto’s police. Hamish wouldn’t do anything stupid would he? Like shoot someone?’
‘Depends who he shot,’ Arthur replied quickly.
Chapter 11
When Yax K’in returned from Yaxchilan, with his cargo of broken pottery, he had his youngest son glue the pieces together. The mend was not pretty. The edges joined roughly and the white PVC glue had oozed out of the cracks as pressure had been applied to the joins. The repaired god-pot rested on the floor of his hut. He sat quietly next to it, bathed in the low evening light. He watched over the god-pot as if the adhesive cure needed nursing.
He chose a place on the side of the pot and squeezed out some glue from a tube. He sat back and viewed his handiwork as if he had performed a delicate and difficult task. He lifted a separate piece of ceramic, that had not been retrieved from Yaxchilan. He weighed it in his hand and turned it over and back. He chose an end and added a liberal amount of adhesive.
He put the tube down and glared at the piece of ceramic as if he was under duress to continue. With his spare hand he pressed against the side of the god-pot opposite where the glue had been applied. He placed the ceramic piece so that the two glued places met. He applied pressure with his two hands, as if they were trying to meet through the pot. He sustained that force for a minute while outside his hut the world slowly changed. Darkness seeped out from the jungle as if night was contagious and had become intense, foreboding and dangerous.
Yax K’in released his hands. He sighed when the added piece of ceramic remained in place, as if he had hoped his repair would fail.
He stood, scrutinized the pot and then left it alone in his hut, to heal like it was a patient that required solitude and undisturbed rest.
The god-pot of Hachakyum had been remade and a handle had been added. Yax K’in would know the next day if the god-pot’s strength had been lost by its long abandonment at Yaxchilan.
He expected, and feared, that it would be as strong as it had ever been.
Chapter 12
‘I’m not leaving! No way,’ Jim was loud and angry. His body was taut. His fists were clenched by his side as if he was ready to fight.
The morning sun filtered through the tops of the jungle trees, but was not high enough to burn its presence on the village. Hamish’s head was bandaged but the second night after his injury had passed with normal sleep. Mild medication was enough to reduce the pain in his head to a dull, and manageable, ache.
Hamish and Arthur faced Jim outside Arthur’s hut. Michelle sat at the table.
Hamish sighed. ‘It may be for the best,’
he said quietly to Jim. ‘We can always come back. But if your grandmother is that desperate to have you then I can’t stop her.’ He was trying to be reasonable when he didn’t want to be.
‘I don’t care what grandma wants. She can get fucked.’
‘Jim!’
‘Why don’t you go back to Boston and I’ll stay here?’
Jim stormed off in search of Pep’Em Ha.
Hamish’s retelling of Arthur’s news from Roberto had not gone smoothly although it had gone as expected.
‘What will you do?’ Arthur asked after they had watched Jim disappear.
‘I don’t know. I’ll leave it for awhile.’ Hamish sat down. He faced Michelle across the table. Arthur sat down next to her.
‘I’m sorry Hamish,’ she said. ‘It must be really hard at the moment. If there’s anything Arthur and I can do, then just ask.’ As she said that, she thought of herself and Arthur as a couple again. She moved her hand to cover his where it rested on the tabletop.
‘Thanks,’ Hamish said absently. He noticed Michelle’s hand touching Arthur’s and smiled. ‘I can’t make him go. He’s not a child anymore.’ Hamish laughed. ‘He’s stronger than I am.’
‘No, but Roberto could make him leave,’ Arthur replied. Hamish’s face dropped. ‘And he would, I think.’
Hamish sat back in his chair. He surveyed the roof-line of Arthur’s hut.
‘I don’t need this just now. This aggravation won’t help. Why would she do that?’ he asked, meaning Kate.
Jim came running and repeatedly yelling Arthur’s name.
‘You’ve got to come. There’s something weird going on in Yax K’in’s hut, with Pep’Em Ha,’ Jim said breathlessly. He turned away and ran from them, back the way he had come and towards the KulWinik section of the village.
Arthur, Michelle and Hamish burst into Yax K’in’s hut at the same time. The men were breathless. Jim was transfixed just inside the entrance as if something prevented him from moving further into the hut.
Arthur watched the scene inside with a horror that made him physically sick.
Chapter 13
Yax K’in sat cross-legged on the floor, his daughter faced him with her neck stretched towards her father. The repaired god-pot of Hachakyum rested on the ground between them. Waves of incense smoke rose from it, caressing Pep’Em Ha’s face and floating towards the ceiling. The smell of copal resin was intense. Beside the god-pot was the bundle Yax K’in had retrieved from the tomb. It had been unwrapped and the obsidian shards lay next to the beaten-bark paper. The stingray barb was in Yax K’in’s raised hand.
As Arthur and the other two entered the hut, Yax K’in’s hand plunged. The stingray barb pierced Pep’Em Ha’s tongue. She screamed but did not move. Blood flowed over the top of her tongue and cascaded from the point of the stingray barb. It streamed over and under her chin. It ran down the front of her white tunic. Blood splattered into the smoldering pot and over the ancient paper.
As Yax K’in struck his daughter, Arthur reacted, as if he had been released from a restraint. He pushed passed Jim and ran across the hut. Even so, Jim reached Pep’Em Ha before Arthur. Jim‘s hand grabbed towards Pep’Em Ha’s mouth, about to pull out the stingray barb. Arthur screamed an inarticulate sound, as loud as he could. It was enough to delay Jim as he flicked his head to see what greater problem there was. Arthur grabbed Jim’s arm and with great difficulty pushed it away from Pep’Em Ha’s mouth.
In a voice that was panicked but he forced to sound calm, Arthur said slowly and carefully, ‘We can’t pull it out. It has to be pulled through. There are serrated barbs on the edges.’
In an embarrassingly easy movement, Jim brushed away Arthur’s hold on him and squatted next Pep’Em Ha. He placed one hand underneath her tongue, sliding the protruding point of the stingray barb between his fingers. He cradled and supported the bloody mass. His other hand grabbed the end of the protruding barb, his fingers were slashed but he did not feel pain. Her blood and his gushed over his hands and arms. He pulled the stingray barb through her tongue in one short, swift motion. She screamed again.
Jim threw the barb away. He hugged Pep’Em Ha tightly as if his arms could be the tourniquet to restrict the blood flow through the wound in her tongue. Blood that was on his hands and arms smeared over the shoulders of her tunic while it flowed freely again from her ruptured tongue.
Pep’Em Ha sobbed and bubbled.
When Arthur had run towards Pep’Em Ha, Michelle had run the other way, back to her hut. She returned with a medical kit. She passed Jim a gauze bandage to press firmly around Pep’Em Ha’s tongue to stem the flow of blood. She gave Pep’Em Ha a painkilling injection and then rummaged through the kit looking for a tetanus shot and an injection of antibiotics.
Before that moment in her father’s hut, Pep’Em Ha had not been aware of the full extent of the experience of pain. The agony, and her own blood, scared her. There was so much blood, it was all over the front of her tunic and her lower face was wet with it. She had never felt blood stream as a flowing liquid that ran and eddied. She concentrated on not fainting. That would be embarrassing for the next t’o’ohil. She focussed on Jim’s hand pressing against her tongue. The agony in her mouth reduced as the painkilling injection began to work. She relived the relief as Jim had removed the barb and had thrown it away like it was a living thing that had caused her pain. Her body slumped. She was so tired.
Yax K’in shook uncontrollably as he sat down a distance away from the others. The shock of the injury he had caused his daughter labored his breath and his head slumped forward. He believed was about to die and that would be good, he thought. His body recovered a little, once his head had slumped forward. His eyes moistened with relief as he watched Pep’Em Ha being cared for. No-one had looked to him. He expected to be forever a pariah.
It had been a brutal act. A senseless sacrifice at the biding of others. Yax K’in wished he had died, years ago. Before the burden had become his. Before Hachakyum had spoken. Before Pep’Em Ha had been born. The blood letting performed on Pep’Em Ha had none of the ritual of the ancient ceremonies, it was a simple and brutal torture of his daughter. The ancient ceremonies were not arbitrary, Yax K’in knew that. He had instructions from his father, and his father from his father, back to Hachakyum. Arthur, also, had told him what archaeologists had discovered. The full ceremony required days of ritual and of fasting and abstinence. The pain of the bloodletting alone was not enough to induce the visions that were depicted in the ancient carvings. Pep’Em Ha’s pain would not give the result Hachakyum expected. Pep’Em Ha’s sacrifice would be a useless act.
Yax K’in had no choice. His haste in performing the blood-letting was Yax K’in’s variation and that would be the flaw in Hachakyum’s plan. Jim’s imminent departure had panicked him to act too quickly. He did not have the days required to perform the ceremonies. Hachakyum’s plan would be undone by Yax K’in’s inadequacy and the interference of others.
Yax K’in noticed the blood spattered ancient bark paper that rested, untouched and unnoticed, on the ground next to his daughter. He remembered the next step. There’s always one more thing, he thought. His life was determined by the priorities of others. Each horrendous step required yet another.
Yax K’in placed his hands on the floor and gingerly pushed himself up to standing. He wavered unsteadily. He shuffled over to his daughter. She looked at him, through the crowd around her, with forgiveness and love.
Yax K’in picked up the ancient paper. He placed a blood-covered corner over the smoldering god-pot. The blood and paper mix began to smoke.
Arthur glowered at Yax K’in. He yanked the paper from the god-pot and threw it away. It fluttered, spraying droplets of red, and fell to the ground not far from where Yax K’in had retrieved it. The paper no longer burnt. Yax K’in watched and waited.
The smoke in the god-pot swirled and thickened. It became a solid mass extending from the floor to the ceiling. A seed formed in the stream. I
t grew, like the view of a distant traveller coming closer, until it was the shape of the head of a snake. The head grew larger. It swung from side to side gathering the rest of the smoke into its enlarging design. The smoke congealed further. An open mouth formed.
Arthur watched the smoke change shape. He saw the framed figure of Hamish, through the smoky haze, as he stood in the entranceway of Yax K’in’s hut. It was as if Hamish had appeared in the mouth of the serpent shaped smoke.
However, Arthur remembered that Hamish had entered the hut with Michelle, he had helped her retrieve a separate medical bag and had raced over to Pep’Em Ha to tend to her. Arthur turned around, to the group around Pep’Em Ha, and saw another Hamish, the real one assisting Michelle.
At the End of the World Page 18
