Sisimito I--Ox Witz Ha

by Henry W. Anderson

  Instinctively, I placed my hand over my Green Scapular and he did not miss my movement.

  “You carry an image on that piece of cloth. Is it of one of our gods, and if so, why on cloth and not on jade … or do you have your own gods in your distant kingdom?”

  “The image is not of my god. It is an image of His na’, Ix Na Li Kawa.”230

  “Itzamná231 has no na’.” He reached over and held the Green Scapular, looking at it. “I don’t know her image. Again, you speak of strange things, Ke’kchi. Talk less and you will distance yourself less from us. Perhaps, you should be silent.” He turned over the Green Scapular, frowned, then smiled. “At least the na’ of your God also receives the heart in sacrifice. Maybe all is not lost for you and your woman.” He threw the Green Scapular against my chest. “Now let me see your weapon.” I slowly removed the machete from its scabbard and handed it to him. There had been no movement by the others, but I am sure that the least threatening move I made would have left me immediately dead. He examined the machete with great interest. He rubbed his thumb along the blade edge and shook his head as blood dripped. “Strange short bate’. I hope your woman’s tongue is not as sharp as this weapon.” They laughed and he handed back the machete.

  So, he has a sense of humor, I concluded, a little relieved, but not knowing why I should be.

  “My two Nim-q’ij232 Guards will guard you and your woman and guide you as we journey.” He nodded his head and we were quickly bound, our arms secured loosely behind us. Cloths were placed over our eyes and tied behind our heads. They did not remove my machete and I wondered at that. I suppose it was meant to show me what a helpless position I was in or, perhaps, the leader left it with me as a sign of respect for a fellow Warrior. I hoped it was the latter, but I found that hard to believe.

  We started to walk downhill at a medium pace and then, quickly, the land leveled off. The blindfolds did not exclude all light, but as we progressed the light was suddenly displaced by some darkness and replaced by a flickering light only. The ground was solid rock, felt wet and cold beneath my feet and there was also a definite dampness in the air that surrounded us. We increased our speed until we were running at a jogging pace. I heard the waterfall to my left and deduced that we were running on a ledge that passed behind the waterfall. We were, therefore, travelling north. I heard the occasional eek-eek of a chikoop and I felt warm guano oozing around the bark of my jungle-sandals and between my toes. The ground was covered with their shit and the ammoniacal smell, like stale piss, was powerful against my nostrils. It was obvious that my companions were not worried about the bats so I tried to keep the beasts out of my mind. Occasionally, I heard the sound of wings pass close by me and I reflected on the horrible face I had seen earlier, but the sound always passed quickly. I wondered how Molly was doing, preferring to be with her, wanting to support her. It was not that I thought she would be in any immediate danger, I just wished to be close to her, but it appeared that would not happen, at least not anytime soon.

  Our group was definitely travelling through a narrow passage. At times, I brushed against the walls, but my guard kept me going. I continued being aware of a dim flickering glow and the smell of fire so I knew we were running with torches. That continued for about four or five miles then, suddenly, I no longer smelled the ammoniacal odor of the guano. I smelled the freshness of the jungle and, perhaps foolishly, hoped it was my jungle. The darkness had also given way to the brightness of the sun, the sunlight filtering in through my blindfolds. We stopped for a short while and, although I could not see, I heard sounds suggesting that they were closing the entrance of the tunnel with rocks and branches. I called out to Molly. She was beside me and her only response was to say that she was alright. I supposed she was exhausted and frightened and probably nauseated from the smell of all that bat shit. Our bounds were removed and we were given water and some type of smoked and dried meat. I fought my abhorrence to smoked meat and ate for I had to keep up my strength.

  We resumed our walk and that time we were trudging downhill, still at a moderate pace. Our bonds were not replaced, but we were kept blindfolded. We maintained our speed and I was certain we were running on a path for I did not feel any rocks or broken branches underfoot. There was litter and unevenness, but whenever I trod over an area where I could possibly stumble, my guard was always there to assist me. He never left my side and I heard his breathing beside me with every step I took. Later, the pace slackened and we were going over relatively flat or rolling terrain. We were along a creek or river for, occasionally, I heard the sound of small rapids. We advanced nonstop until sunset when a halt was called. Throughout the afternoon trek, the brightness of the sun shone through my blindfolds so I knew that we were travelling directly west, but I was rapidly losing that glare. I guessed we had journeyed some seven or eight miles, perhaps, a little more after leaving the tunnel.

  I let myself down heavily onto the sand then called out to Molly. “I’m okay,” she answered, and, thankfully, she was right beside me. Other than Molly’s answer and her breathing, there was only the melody of rushing water. I no longer heard the roar of the howler and it was only occasionally that our captors spoke. Ajawinel K’an II or the Halach Uinic, as the man who had clapped his hands had called him, was giving orders and I heard the thuds and scraping noise of objects being pulled across the rocks and sand of the riverside. I had thought that we were going to camp for the night, but it seemed that the nobles had decided to continue. I was pulled up by my guard and led into the water. I resisted, but he told me to hurry. I was in water about a foot deep when I felt the side of a doari233 rubbing against my leg.

  “Get in,” urged my guard. “Hurry!”

  “Why?” I asked, not really expecting an answer.

  “The heavens are darkening and it is not the night alone. The stars, they brighten then they turn to shadows and an evil mist cloaks the night. The Halach Uinic wants us to continue our journey. He fears that a terror is soon to be unleashed upon the land.”

  “Where’s Molly?” I asked, putting out my hands to feel if she were nearby.

  “Your woman?”

  “Yes.”

  “In another jukub.234 That way, you won’t try to escape.” He laughed then added, “Your woman’s okay, and don’t try to remove your blindfold to see her. I have orders to chop off your hands if you do. And get rid of the jungle lej-xajäbs.235 You don’t need them anymore.” I kicked off the lej-xajäbs, sandals, and got into the doari. It felt stable, but I did not feel safe. It wasn’t a fear of drowning or that I was blindfolded in a doari not knowing where the fok I was being taken, it was that I could be killed … anytime.

  We were in several doaris, jukubs as they were called in my language. The sounds as they were shoved off the bank and the distance between voices made that apparent. The conversations soon stopped and all I heard was the soft sound of the paddles cutting the water in unison. I put my hand in the water and noted that we were going with the current. We were still travelling west, away from the Main Divide of the Maya Mountains, away from where I needed to go.

  As I sat on the bottom of the doari, I felt around me. It must have been larger than usual as I was not cramped. I was tired, however, and needed to sleep, to be rested, to be able to face what was to come. I rolled myself into a ball, closed off all troublesome concerns, thought only of the night at the Hidden Valley Falls, and fell asleep so quickly that Tóolok didn’t even have a chance to stir in reminiscence.

  TIPÚ236

  Tipú was covered with a thin layer of white dust, the grid of white sacbeobs237 dividing the village being responsible for the chalky tinge. Tipú was not always like that, however. Whenever the rains came, the colors brightened and the flower gardens that adorned each hut of thatch and adobe were alive with birds and butterflies. The village was built on both sides of the Chúumuk Sacbeob,238 a main thoroughfare traversing east to west. Tipú was also divided by a large creek that snaked through with random twists and tur
ns. Many small, but elaborately decorated bridges, had been built throughout the village and Tipú had become well known for those works of art done by the common people rather than by the great artisans that worked on the palaces and temples in the cities. The embellishments were often built around a favorite God, Itzamná, the Chacs,239 Ix Chel, and others. There were some, however, that honored past rulers and there were others that simply told the story of an important happening like the birth of a child, or a marriage, or a death. The creek below these bridges supplied Tipú with clean, fresh and sweet water, and all washing and bathing was done at the end of the village where the creek exited.

  Smoke still came from some of the kitchens, each built adjacent to the house, but most of the villagers had already finished with the evening meal and had prepared their fire hearth for the night, making sure that all embers had been extinguished and all leftover food securely covered from the Alaj Chaj-r-ij Wíiniks, the tiny creatures who slept in the ashes seeking warmth under the k’el.240 At night, the use of the fire hearth was for the Alaj Chaj-r-ij Wíiniks, but as morning came and the kuts241 gobbled, the Alaj Chaj-r-ij Wíiniks hurried off to the kools to see if they could bring about any mischief there.

  Most of the younger children had already been placed in their hammocks by their na’s who then made traditional offerings to Ix Chel, the Moon Goddess, to protect the children. Some of the taats were preparing for bed, after a hard day at the kool, having already burnt incense in honor of the Maize God, Juun Ixim,242 and the Chacs, hoping that the rains would come when needed to make the maize grow. Yet, Tipú was not asleep. Incense, smoke, the smell of kuas, were still very evident in the late evening as orange and purple skies hung low over the village. The younger men and women of the village were at the village square and the musical sounds of drums, flute-maracas, flutes and figurine-ocarinas243 intermixed with chanting brought quiet festivity to Tipú.

  Xihuitl244 looked deeply at the sky. It was beautiful. Many dusks, after the evening meal, he took a stool to his front yard, sat and watched the sky and the sunset until it got dark. If there were a moon, he watched the moon and would offer prayers to Ix Chel. If there were no moon, he would look at the stars. That night was captivating, clear to the very limits of the heavens. It was still hot, however, and the disappearance of Kinich Ahau245 behind the hills had done nothing to ease the unusual heat.

  A group of young men passed the hut as they walked towards the town square and the yaxché tree.246 They were all dressed in white scanty loincloths only, wore no lej-xajäbs, and no jewelry. “Xihuitl,” shouted one of them grinning. “It’s not good to stare too long at the sky … especially this k’iin when Lahun Chan247 is in the evening sky. He’s especially mean then and may come and take your wife.” They all laughed.

  “Tlanextic248 is right,” urged Tlazohtlaloni,249 and the young men all agreed in unison, nodding their heads.

  “At least, then you will be able to join us at the yaxché tree again,” laughed Huitzilihuitl.250

  “One k’iin, Tlanextic and Tlazohtlaloni, and you too, Huitzilihuitl,” replied Xihuitl, “my name will be seen in the skies and you’ll see me floating above Tipú.” The young men again laughed then carried on towards the music and chanting. Xihuitl smiled at his young friends and reflected on the evenings when he had spent many hours at the yaxché tree, looking for a young maiden. Xihuitl gazed at his hut then his forehead tightened. An icim had perched on his roof. He did not like icims as they brought bad luck. He turned and looked at his neighbor’s hut. Another icim roosted there. He heard his wife approaching and turned his gaze so that she did not follow it and look towards the icim.

  Tonalnan251 came through the doorway, plucked a white flower and placed it in her hair. She wore a colorful skirt, embroidered with patterns of flowers and birds. Following close behind her was an ix-oop.252 She picked it up and placed it on a dead tree branch that had been planted in the ground as a perch. She smiled at Xihuitl and he beckoned to her.

  Tonalnan stood before Xihuitl and hugged him as he cradled his head between her breasts. “Are the children asleep?” he asked, placing his lips over one of her nipples.

  “Yes, Husband, both Yoltzin253 and Citlalmina254 are asleep in their hammocks.” She rubbed his thick black hair. “Let me get some oil for your hair.”

  “It’s too hot.” he grumbled, but she ignored him and returned to the hut.

  The ix-oop cried noisily, but Xihuitl ignored the bird. Several pujuys had settled on the sacbeob in front of the hut and kept propelling themselves upward, catching passing insects. Like the icim, he did not care for the pujuy. They also brought bad luck.

  Not far away, just on the edge of Tipú, playful screams came from a group of naked children playing near the creek where some women were still washing clothes, beating them against the rocks. Their wet skirts held tightly to their legs and buttocks, and their breasts danced as they worked at the remaining clothes. A little further down, naked men were shouting and playing with a ball, running in and out of the creek. Everything was as it should be in Tipú.

  Tonalnan returned with a jar, moistened her hand with the oil and rubbed Xihuitl’s hair and scalp while he kept his head firmly against her chest, only occasionally turning to place a nipple between his lips. “Will you rub my hair when I’m done?” she asked.

  “Yours is too long,” smiled Xihuitl. “That would take me all night and I would be too tired to go to the kool in the morning.”

  “Sometimes, you’re up all night and you still go to the kool in the morning.”

  “That’s different. Then I’m oiling something else.” She hit his head with her hand. He looked up at her face, smiling. She was beautiful against the twilight sky. He felt his loincloth move and he was happy. In the Western sky he saw Lahun Chan brighten, suddenly, then disappear behind rapidly building stormclouds. He frowned.

  “What is it?” asked Tonalnan.

  Lightning and heavy roars of thunder moved across Tipú without warning, causing him to jump, lose his balance, and fall off his stool. The ix-oop shrieked nosily then attacked the branches of its perch aggressively with its beak, beating its wings heavily against its body. The twilight was gone and heavy boiling storm clouds rolled in from the southeast, rapidly covering the village. Lightening rose from the jungle, lacerating the storm clouds, allowing the stars to show through, but only momentarily then the rift slammed shut and thunder exploded onto Tipú once again. Startled shouts from the men at the creek broke the sudden silence that followed the thunderburst and the cries of children along with the screams of alarm from their na’s blasted the village. The music … the chanting … the ballgame … the washing … all had stopped. A cold wind entered Tipú.

  Wah-co!-Wah-co!-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha.

  A kos dove swiftly and the perched ix- oop tried to hide its neck beneath its wing, but the kos removed its head with one swift movement of its beak. The ix-oop did not fall, but remained on its roost, beating its wings against its body, its beautiful feathers being ripped out, forming a floating mass around it.

  Tonalnan put her hands to her mouth and the jar of oil fell to the ground and shattered. Her eyes grew large as screams from Yoltzin and Citlalmina reached her. Xihuitl jumped up and raced to the hut, Tonalnan just behind him.

  “No salt. No skinny, skinny, you no know me? No salt. No skinny, skinny, you no know me?” was the only sound that now came from the hut.

  “Xwáay! Xwáay!” screamed Tonalnan.

  Citlalmina lay dumped on the mud floor, her face pale, her eyes open and staring. She was not moving. Tonalnan ran towards her, picking her up, pulling the child into her arms. Her neck lay limp and the side of her neck was torn open; yet, no blood flowed. Tonalnan wailed.

  Xihuitl cried softly, “Yoltzin!”

  The creature had her head into the hammock as she hunched over the second child, two straw mats attached to her arms vibrating wildly. Xwáay Chikoop slowly lifted her head and turned to face them. She sneered, cackling,
“No salt. No skinny, skinny, you no know me? No salt. No skinny, skinny, you no know me?” Blood dripped from her mouth and as she looked at the man and woman, her vampire teeth grew longer. Xihuitl cried out in anger then rushed to the wall where his sickle was leaning.

  Xwáay Chikoop levitated from the ground, rotating slowly, then, suddenly, lunged at Tonalnan sinking her long and sharp teeth into the woman’s neck, immediately drawing all Tonalnan’s blood out of her body. The woman fell to the floor, still holding her dead child.

  Xihuitl, howling in terror and shock, reached for the sickle, but Xwáay Chikoop was already on him. Together, they ascended then flew through the door. As they soared above the hut, above Tipú, Xwáay Chikoop sank her teeth into his heart and his body swung helplessly from her mouth. When she was finished with her meal, she simply dropped him. The corpse fell to the front yard of the hut, impaling itself on the tree branch used by the ix-oop for perching. The ix-oop lay dead and mutilated beside Xihuitl, its red, blue and yellow feathers scattered about them.