Sisimito I--Ox Witz Ha

by Henry W. Anderson

  “All of you. Come with me,” shouted Kitam Ajchaq’e. “Let’s get our balché.” The group gathered around the balché table and each soon had a jicara of the drink. “It smells damn good and strong,” he added.

  “Hach-k’ek’en Ajchaq’e,” cried the Yellow-headed Parrots.

  Waari Massa.177

  “Another man folk at last,” grinned Xwáay Kumätz, clapping.

  From out the jungle came a large wild pig with a human face, sporting two razor sharp tusks and red eyes. As it approached the group, it stood up and began walking on its two hind legs.

  “My dancing partner,” announced Xwáay Kumätz, shaking her body.

  “I thought you and I were set up,” leered Patzapik. “Oh! This balché is powerful.”

  “We are,” she answered. “With the balché, I will need two of you to take care of me.”

  Hach-k’ek’en Ajchaq’e grunted as he nibbled Xwáay Kumätz on her neck. “I don’t mind sharing a good thing, baby, as long as I’m first.”

  “Watch those tusks, my macho-macho,”178 warned Xwáay Kumätz, jokingly.

  “Xtabai,”179 cried the Yellow-headed Parrots.

  “Xtabai. So, she carries the same name in this world,” I murmured to myself.

  Xtabai walked on to the grounds under the ceiba tree. She was a beautiful Maya woman with long black hair. I reminded myself that there was nothing beautiful in the world I was in … except Molly, of course … but the woman’s face was, indeed, beautiful, if only skin deep.

  Stuck in her hair was a comb made from the woody and prickly part of a cactus plant. She was wearing a white huipil,180 a long flowing dress decorated with beautiful embroidery along the hem, sleeves, and neck. There was no plunging neckline, but there didn’t have to be for, at times, the upper half of her dress just seemed not to be there. She had large black eyes, a narrow face with small mouth and nose, slender waist and a deeply enchanting smile. She wore a white turban in which she had inserted a green feather. But then that was where her beauty ended. Her left foot was cloven like that of a goat and the other foot was clawed like a turkey’s. That caused her to walk with one heavy step and one light step, creating the pattern of an X as she walked. Then, her face started changing. It was no longer always beautiful. At times, it seemed that all the flesh had disappeared; at other times, it would be the face of an oc. As she turned to look at the gathering, I was mesmerized even further for I saw that her back was rough and hollow and covered with hard bony scales. Again, it was as if the dress was transparent, only that time always so.

  “I see that you’re right at home,” cooed Patzapik. He patted a buttress of the ceiba tree.

  “I don’t have to hide in wait for a man tonight,” Xtabai answered. She took her hair and wrapped it around his neck. “And I already have my hair around your neck. I only have to tighten it … and the moon will soon be out.”

  “I can think of other things for you to do with me, rather than strangling me,” Patzapik suggested, dreamily.

  “Let’s go see the animal in the cage,” shouted Xwáay Chikoop. “I heard he’s very ugly. Let’s go. Bring some fruits. Let’s see if we can get him to eat.”

  I was jolted from my observations. Let’s see the animal in the cage. Xwáay Chikoop was talking about me. I was an animal in a cage. An ugly animal.

  The members of the depraved gathering each picked a few fruits from the fruit table and they, in single file, danced to the music of the corrido,181 ‘Cacahuetes’,182 as they marched over to the ledge where my cage sat.

  I was not sure how to respond. I withdrew to the furthest part of the cage away from the advancing Kechelaj Komon. I stepped where the Spider monkeys had covered my shit. My foot sank into my shit and the moist cold softness, for my shit was then cold, oozed between my toes. I watched the approaching creatures, unable to do anything other than trying to keep my thumbs hidden. When they arrived, for a moment all they did was watch me.” “Hoot,” shouted Kitam Ajchaq’e. I was caught completely by surprise and I jumped. My response brought immediate heinous laughter from my besiegers and their howling was instantly echoed by the flock of Yellow-headed Parrots. From the top of my cage I heard, Wah-co!-Wah-co!-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha.

  “His neck,” hissed Xtabai. “He wears a charm around his neck. I should wrap my hair around his neck and pull it off.”

  “Why worry about that?” cackled Xwáay Chikoop. “It’s not helping him. He can’t escape. She leaned forward staring at me. “And, he doesn’t have any salt so no Skinny, skinny, yu no know me? today.”

  Xwáay Kumätz presented me with a maami through the cage. “Come, come, come, my little human animal,” she offered. “Come and take this nice delicious fruit from me. If you’re a nice boy and come for this fruit, I’ll give you something else.” Again, the horrid shrieking resounded throughout the cave.

  The Alaj Chaj-r-ij Wíiniks were running up and down through my cage, hurling little rocks at me. I wanted to kick some of them, but I was afraid of what the others might do. I would not give them an excuse to hurt me. I had to escape.

  “Not a bad size thing for a human animal,” advised Xwáay Chikoop, pointing at Tóolok. I was then further humiliated. “Look,” she squeaked. “It’s getting smaller. Bad boy. Get it bigger and I’ll give you this fruit. It’s a nice kashu.”183

  “I am sure he’d prefer these,” argued Xwáay Éek’, and she took out her breasts and showed them to me. “Come. Touch them. They’re nice and juicy. You better enjoy what you can now. Tomorrow you’re Sisimito and his bride’s dinner.” They all roared again. I did not respond, but I sweated and Tóolok continued to disappear until only skin was left.

  “Oh, he’s no fun,” complained Q’eq Ja Wíinik, and he threw a banana at me. That started a barrage. They all threw the fruits they had brought at me, snickering as they did so. I cowered down in my cage.

  Xtabai placed her face against the poles of my cage. “Wouldn’t you want to be my Tabai? I lost my last Tabai when he went to pull down somebody’s dam. I supposed he drowned.”

  “He’s a dead head,” concluded Xwáay Chikoop. “No fun! He’s acting as if all the blood’s been drained out of him. And see his feet.? He’s standing in his own shit.” They all glanced down at my feet. “Why would he do that?” They all looked up at my face.

  “I’ll sing for him,” decided Xwáay Ok’ol. “Maybe, he’ll even dance. Maybe his thing will get big.”

  “Don’t sing!’ lamented Patzapik, turning into a human skeleton and rattling chains. “You only know one song Xwáay Ok’ol and every time we party, you sing the same song.”

  “Hundreds of times,” whistled Xwáay Mulibal-k’ux’.

  “The same song,” laughed Xwáay Éek’, exposing her breasts. “Same song over and over again.”

  “I don’t care what you say,” insisted Xwáay Ok’ol. “I will sing and Tata Ponopik184 will accompany me. Maybe, the human will do some tricks for us.”

  “Go ahead, Xwáay Ok’ol,” they all sang, blithely.

  She looked towards the Tata Duende Marimba Band and they started playing ‘La Llorona’. Usually, whenever I heard that song, the haunting melody always brought tears to my eyes. That day it brought anger; yet, as Xwáay Ok’ol began to sing, I slowly became enchanted by her voice. Once again, I found it hard to believe that such a breathtaking sound could happen in the horror I was in. It was difficult, but I brought my fists up to my ears and covered them.

  “Look,” laughed Xwáay Éek’. “Even the human animal does not want to listen.”

  “Oh, let’s forget him. Balché time,” shouted Xwáay Mulibal-k’ux’. “I hope that I don’t have too much balché. I won’t be able to hold up my jaw.” There was laughter, howling, squealing, shrieking, wailing, a nightmarish symphony of horror as the Kechelaj Komon collapsed upon themselves in diabolical mirth, showing the most evil aspect of their characters. Once again, the parade was off, Xwáay Ok’ol leading and still singing. That time, however, the march was away from
me and I was glad for that. I glanced down at my feet. They were full of shit. I looked at Tóolok. He remained in hiding.

  About half-an-hour later the music stopped and Sisimito, or Mahanamatz as the Kechelaj Komon called him, walked from out the jungle and stood at the trunk of the ceiba tree, facing the entrance of the cavern. He had not dressed for the occasion, only his hair covered his demonic body. The guests formed a group on either side of him and as they too faced the entrance of the cavern, I was able to see all of them. The band started playing the song Cuando Calienta el Sol185 with Tata Duende taking on the role of Javier Solís, substituting the words en la selva for en la playa. Cuando Calienta el Sol was one of my spreeing songs. I would punch it over and over again at the jukebox, often singing at the top of my voice; sometimes, even dancing with myself as Bas would absolutely refuse to dance with me when I jokingly asked him. Somehow, I didn’t like the song so much anymore.

  “How splendid! I wish I could sing that song,” wept Xwáay Ok’ol.

  “Shut up,” hissed Xwáay Kumätz.

  I could feel my face burning. Yet, I did nothing. But what could I do? I had to rescue Molly before the night was through, before that animal took her into his bed and his spells controlled her completely. That I knew. But how would I accomplish that? I thought of Bas. If only he were there. But he wasn’t. Then I thought of Parham. His birthday was April fifth, that day. There was a party, but it was not for him. He was dead. I didn’t want to think, so I did the only thing I could do. I closed my eyes and felt for the Green Scapular. I knelt down, avoiding my shit, bowed my head and prayed to Bas; then, I prayed to the Blessed Virgin.

  When I opened my eyes again, Molly was walking slowly and barefooted from her ledge down towards the wedding party. Several candles had been lit, casting a soft glow to the inside of the cavern. The light from the candles reflected against the feathers and flowers of her wedding dress that had cost so many xhom-bzans their lives. She was beautiful, so frail, so pretty. I would have liked to have seen her face, her eyes, so that I could assess her frame of mind, but she did not look towards me. Cupped in her hands, she held the bouquet of calaloo flowers and wild coffee. I saw that the xan-cotís had allowed some of the chin-chin-pol-ojo to fall and cover her breasts. At least, that protected her from having the Kechelaj Komon stare at her breasts. Pujuys186 lined both sides of the walkway she descended. With every bare footed step she took, they propelled themselves upward into the air, falling back on the same spot they had left. The bright flames of the bonfire caused their eyes to shine ruby-red and their conspicuous white wing bars appeared and disappeared. Overhead, male Blue Ground-doves,187 flashing their light blue plumage, dropped blue petals over Molly as she continued her promenade, walking beside the shallow creek, drawing near to Sisimito. As she reached him, she gave a slight bow and then stood to his right side. The music stopped as did all the noises of the jungle. It seemed that everyone was waiting for something to happen. Molly slowly lifted her left arm and offered it to Sisimito. Sisimito took it in his. The relationship was cemented.

  The jungle was suddenly alive. Howling. Cackling. Chuckling. Tweeting. All the sounds of the jungle fauna rose in praise of the union. All the creatures were clapping their hands. Thousands upon thousands of peeniwali flew in, lighting the jungle and the wedded couple with their luminescence while a constant flow of golden ceiba blossoms fell upon them. The marimba band played again, a waltz I did not recognize, and the dancing started. I felt a deep pain in my chest as I watched Molly and Sisimito dancing. I was glad when others joined in the dancing and Molly was often blocked from my view. Gradually, the noise from the animals died down and it was only the chatter of the guests and the music of the marimba that I heard. The guests ate as they wished and, every now and again, one of them would approach the hanging thighs and tear off a piece of meat; Sisimito, however, ate only of the raw thigh. I watched, but most of the horror I had associated with the thighs had already gone. I gazed at the revelry, saw Molly eat fruit that Sisimito brought for her, saw her dance with Sisimito and other members of the Kechelaj Komon including a waltz with Q’eq Ja Wíinik. As the evening progressed, I noted that the large gourds of balché were emptying, but quickly being replenished. At times, some of the guests walked and danced holding a gourd. Sisimito had a gourd of the intoxicating liquid with him, at all times. No one brought me anything, but I had eaten. I had eaten some of the fruits the Kechelaj Komon had thrown at me as they teased me. Yet, I felt very thirsty.

  Some of the guests were beginning to stagger. They seemed unable to maintain one image of their varied aspects. Patzapik kept changing from black animal to white dog then to skeleton, almost simultaneously. Their voices had changed and although they were laughing and enjoying themselves, their intonation made my skin rise. Xwáay Ok’ol was wailing most of the time even when she was dancing. Xtabai sometimes was a floating mass of white from which she would quickly become a hissing green snake or a prickly tree or a vicious looking old hag. Sisimito himself was inebriated for whenever he walked, he staggered a little. I had not seen his lips move in speech or heard his voice. Yet, it was obvious he was communicating with those around him. Finally, the large bonfire began to die down and the creatures began to leave. One by one they left, either into the jungle or into the creek. Xwáay Chikoop had trouble with her mats, but finally got them arranged right and disappeared into the moonlight sky. Xtabai rode off on the back of the mountain lion, the owl perched on her shoulder. Suddenly, there was only the marimba music, Sisimito, and Molly in the moonlight under the ceiba tree. Even the peeniwali were gone. The Alaj Chaj-r-ij Wíiniks seemed to have decided on sleeping outdoor for the night, away from the wedded couple, for they were settling into the dying embers of the fire used to smoke the thighs. I hated all the Kechelaj Komon, but my hate became intense as I saw the Alaj Chaj-r-ij Wíiniks eating the pieces of meat that had fallen.

  I saw Sisimito lay his head against Molly’s breasts and pain again held my chest in a viselike grip. I was like a tall strong tree in my jungle being squeezed to death by a strangler. I remembered Bas telling me that he could smell the trees rotting, that he could almost hear them screaming for help, that this was not our jungle anymore. I wanted to scream out. I wanted to rip my cage apart as the creature held Molly, but I had to wait. I had to wait, patiently.

  They danced in the moonlight, close together, for the moon had risen earlier, immense and beautiful. They danced, she lovely, he with his feet turned backwards, both having only four digits on their hands. I felt Sisimito’s heart beating against her’s. I felt Sisimito’s raw breath, savored with balché, against her face. I felt Sisimito being aroused against her. I felt her body … her dread … her resistance. Yet, she danced, steadying him in his drunkenness. As the music came to an end, Sisimito looked to the musicians. They bowed their heads and left, but before they left, they each gathered a gourd of fruits and the remains of a thigh.

  Molly led Sisimito across the jungle floor, moonlit and carpeted with the golden petals of the ceiba tree. As they walked by the small creek, Sisimito stumbled and stepped into the water. He cried out as if in pain. It was the only time I had heard a sound out of Sisimito’s mouth and it was the cry of an animal in severe distress. I knew that Sisimito was supposed to be afraid of water, but I didn’t know that the fear would also provoke agony. Molly helped him up and they slowly climbed up towards the ledge across from me. I was angry. She should have taken the opportunity to sit on him and crush his head with a rock. But then, she wasn’t a soldier. She wasn’t trained to kill and worry about feelings afterwards. She was probably too frightened to do anything, anyhow, and his spells were probably beginning to do their devious work. I hoped and prayed that I had been right, that his drunkenness would weaken his control. I had never been to war. I had never shot a man. Would I hesitate to shoot a man? I had never really thought about it because I always knew that, as a soldier, I would do what I was ordered to do, what I had to do. As I stood naked against the
bars of my cage, soldier or not, I knew I would not hesitate to kill Sisimito or any of the Alaj Chaj-r-ij Wíiniks. They were not human. They were my enemies, dangerous enemies.

  As they walked towards the bed on the ledge across from me, the darkness began to engulf them and knew I would soon be unable to see them anymore. I shook at the poles that held me caged. They didn’t shake. They didn’t rattle. I looked away from the ledge across from me and closed my eyes. Yet, I saw them walking slowly towards the bed, their bed. I felt nauseous as I slid slowly down to the ground of my cage enduring distraught upon distraught. I pissed and felt its warmth flow between my legs and my buttocks. I didn’t move. I started to cry. “Bas! If only you were here. We’d kill this madafoka together.” No other sound I made, just hot tears flowed from my eyes, falling on the wet piss that surrounded me. I listened for the noise that I expected to hear from across the small ravine that separated my ledge from theirs. There were the shufflings, of someone moving in the dark, the creak of getting into bed. I lifted my hands to my ears and covered them. I didn’t want to hear the moans of fucking. Then, a loud blast of crazy human laughter occurred near to me, causing me to hurl myself away from the side of the cage I had leaned upon. Wah-co!-Wah-co!-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha. I looked for the kos, but could not see it in the dark and it kept shouting at me Wah-co!-Wah-co!-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha. I covered my ears, not removing my hands, but the diabolical cry still shook me over and over. I trembled, feeling cold in the jungle night. I nodded in the delirium I found myself. I wanted to sleep. I had to sleep. It was all up to Molly as there was not a fok I could do. Then I felt warmth around my neck and I reached up and held Bas’ Green Scapular with both my hands and the warmth spread over my body and my eyes began to close. I shut my eyes and Bas was with me … looking after me.