Sisimito I--Ox Witz Ha

by Henry W. Anderson

  Molly and I walked to the edge of the table-mountain. They were already running through the jungle, not looking back. The servants, who followed them, turned and waved while shouting, “Ke’kchi! Ke’kchi! Ke’kchi! Fok! Fok! Fok! Ke’kchi! Ke’kchi! Ke’kchi!” Then, they were all gone and only the jungle remained.

  I sat at the edge of the table-mountain and I cried. I howled. I had never cried so much in my entire emotionless life. Maybe, the time had come and I was then crying for all the things I should have cried for before. I felt a deep hollow inside me that I knew would never be filled. I stood up and whooped and whooped just like Xicohtencatl and Ehecatl had done, roared and roared just like Bo and Choj had done. I was a soldier. I felt the soft hands of Molly Cervantez on my shoulders, but, at that time, they meant nothing to me. “We have to go,” she urged.

  Molly and I started running to the southeast. It was not difficult to follow the trail through the jungle and four hours later we were at the place where the doaris were hidden. They had simply been covered with leaves and branches and, in no time, I had picked one made from guanacaste and we shoved it to the river, keeping part of it on the bank. Since it was almost midday, I decided to eat after which we pushed off and started paddling upriver. The current was not strong, so we were able to paddle quite easily. We journeyed all afternoon, always taking the river branches to the left, as our guards had instructed us. We were once again travelling through very pretty and pristine jungle and, that time, we were not blindfolded. If it were not for the fact that we did not know what dangers lay ahead, it would have been mesmerizing.

  Xicohtencatl and Ehecatl had told us that, if we paddled steadily, we would reach a certain point around nightfall. We would meet a main river flowing westward. At that location, we were to go right. It was about two hours after dark that we arrived at the junction. Luckily, there was a large sani-bay and we stopped there. We did not want to sleep on the sani-bay in the open, however, so, after supper, we pulled the doari into the trees and climbed into it. We were exhausted and were soon asleep. I had planned to get up during the night and scout around. That didn’t happen. I slept until the early morning creek creek cry of toucans in the trees above me woke me. Molly was still asleep, covered by her cloak.

  I walked to the river and pissed after which I washed my face, mouth, and under my arms, keeping my obsidian knife on the sand beside me. I smelled my body odor, but did not pay much attention to it. I contemplated bathing, decided against it as I didn’t want to get my loincloth wet and knowing that if I took it off, I wasn’t sure I could put it on again, properly. I was definitely not an expert at putting on loincloths, so I was glad that I did not feel like shitting. I supposed I could pull the cloth all the way over to the side. I sighed and shook my head. A decision on my loincloth wasn’t important, at that time.

  I bent down to pick up the knife and my hair stood on edge, koal seed covering my body, as a deep moaning sound came from the jungle. I grabbed the knife and turned quickly to walk back to the doari. Squatting on the bow of the doari, looking down at the sleeping Molly, was Q’eq Ja Wíinik. I flung the knife, but Q’eq Ja Wíinik had already launched himself from the doari and was flying past me towards the river in which he disappeared without a splash. Immediately, there was loud thunder to the West. We were discovered.

  Molly sat up. “What’s that?” What’s happening?” she asked.

  “Thunder,” I answered, as I walked past her to retrieve the knife which was stuck in a tree trunk. I felt Molly’s eyes studying me and I knew she didn’t believe that was all.

  “You are agitated,’ she stated, quietly. No fear, no terror, no anxiety in her voice.

  “I’m okay,” I responded with a tone of finality, not saying anything about Q’eq Ja Wíinik. I wanted to leave, immediately, but we had to have some kind of breakfast. We needed to eat, to feed and preserve our strength. As the pozolli was finished, we had only water to drink. I took out maami and kuas with some smoked meat. I didn’t know what the meat was … and I didn’t care. It was meat. When we were done, Molly got up and went to the river. I did not fear that Q’eq Ja Wíinik would return or even harm Molly, but I kept my eyes on her.

  We were soon paddling upriver, once again. The sun was just coming over the mountains to our east, mountains I hoped were the Main Divide of the Maya Mountains. I tried not to think of Sisimito and the Kechelaj Komon, but I remained vigilant. Xicohtencatl and Ehecatl had told us that if we travelled with only short breaks, again taking only the left branches of any junctions we met, by or just after nightfall we would come to a junction with a smaller branch going to the right. That branch would point directly to a long sloping spur that elevated from west to east and was perpendicular to the main mountain chain running north to south. We should not miss it as it was the only site that was like that in the region.

  We stopped for lunch on a sani-bay, stretched for a few minutes, and then continued paddling upriver. We kept coming upon rapids and the current was getting stronger as we encountered the younger phases of the river. Luckily, the rapids were not large and we were able to cross them without incident. At times, however, we had to get out and pull the doari across them and that, of course, slowed us down.

  Once, as we turned a bend in the river, a cold breeze brushed against my face. Large boulders formed a small island in the center of the stream and the water around the rocks was very violent, agitated by two lashing serpent tails. Haunting cries rose from the riverbed as Xwáay Ok’ol rose and slithered onto the surface. She looked directly at us, her eyes red with anger and hate, combing her long wavy black hair, crying pitifully as we paddled past. She did not move towards us and we slowly pulled away.

  Passing a member of the Kechelaj Komon so closely renewed our awareness that we were still in great danger. From time to time, we saw the bushes on the river banks moving, but we saw no one. Nevertheless, I was able to smell Hach-k’ek’en Ajchaq’e and his drove on one bank and Kitam Ajchaq’e and his kitams on the other. They did not attack. They were waiting. Again, Molly displayed no fear and, at times, I wondered if she was becoming resigned to whatever fate awaited us. I hoped not as that would not be good. We kept on paddling.

  Nightfall came and we still had not identified the spur we needed to locate. As it was dark, I was afraid we would miss the spur, but I kept on going for I had not met any river branches since earlier in the evening.

  It was about four hours after dark when we came upon the next junction and a smaller branch did go off to the right. Due to darkness, I could not see if it pointed to a spur, but, at that point, it wasn’t important. We were exhausted it was best to stop there for the night.

  The jungle was much tighter and we pulled the doari into a small indentation in the river bank where I tied it to a fallen tree trunk. We were too tired to eat and it was best to try to fall asleep right away, like the night before, in the doari. Molly wrapped up in her cloak and was immediately asleep. I lay down and placed my cloak about me. I tried to sleep, but it was difficult as the jungle was hot and there were multitudes of mosquitoes, sand flies, batlaas, doctor flies … I kept thinking of the Halach Uinic, feeling that hollow within me growing deeper. I reflected on Bo, Choj, Xicohtencatl, and Ehecatl, wondering what they found when they returned to Ox Witz Ha. I held onto Bas’ Green Scapular and I felt its warmth penetrate my body. I thought of Bas and only then did I fall asleep.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  THE APPARITION

  Thursday, April 13, 1972

  The continuing heat and the pestering flies woke me. I reckoned it was at least an hour or two after sunrise, for the sun had already risen above the mountains in the east. To my surprise, Molly was already up eating kuas and avocado. She smiled and greeted me, “Hello, Fok.” There was a mischievous twinkle in her eye. That change was good, for all I had seen recently in her eyes was fear. I hoped, however, that she was not beginning to feel too safe. “You’re awake! I’ve gone ahead of you.”

  I ignored my new
name. We had not conferred much over the last two days as the effort of paddling consumed most of our energy. We spoke only when we had to as I did not want anything to interfere with my vigilance. Although the Kechelaj Komon seemed to be leaving us alone for the moment, I knew they were always near, very dangerous, and I would not underestimate them. If I gave way to complacency, we would soon be dead. I stared at Molly. Her resilience astounded me. She had maintained a calm and strength that, under the circumstances, was unbelievable. That fact scared me and I wondered if her calm and strength was built upon her ‘faith’ in me that I would get her back home. It concerned me, greatly, that she may have had more ‘faith’ in me than I had in myself.

  “I’ll join you soon,” I mumbled.

  I stood then walked until I reached the western bank of the river we had travelled on the day before. The small branch indeed ran eastward and there was a sloping spur about three miles distant. I dug a hole, pulled my loincloth to one side and had a shit after which I cleaned with a flat stone. I washed my hands then returned to the doari, ate some fruit, after which I loosened the hemp rope so we could push off.

  We continued paddling. At times, we had to be careful as there were shallow sandbars and boulders scattered all over the river bed. At midday, we reached the base of the spur. Climbing onto the bank we found an area in the undergrowth that was cleaned out. There were foot prints and marks where doaris had been pulled, so we were on tract. We had found the place where the Halach Uinic and his party kept their doaris. Once we reached the Hidden Valley Falls, we would head east to the Caribbean Sea. We pulled up the doari and hid it as best we could.

  It was very hot and mosquitoes and other insects were constantly singing and buzzing near us, biting us all over our bodies. Our sweat, in turn, burned the fly bites and welts we had made and were making by scratching. We ate at an uncomfortably fast rate, hurrying for a sense of urgency had firmly established itself. As soon as we were finished, we slung the cuxtals across our shoulders. Not having carried them for two days, they felt heavy, even though they had been lightened as we consumed the food. I decided to go down to the river to get a drink before we began our walk and to wash my face. From the jungle, not far away, came the roar of the Black Howler Monkey and I felt my skin raise with koal seed. Again, came the roar of the howler and I ran to where I had left Molly. The look of terror on her face assured me that she had heard it too. There was a rumble of thunder and I looked up. The skies had begun to darken as heavy boiling black clouds began rolling eastward from the west. “Let’s go. Quickly!” I urged.

  That time, the trail left by the Halach Uinic and his party was not easy to find and I had to use all my tracking experience to locate the well-hidden mouth of the tunnel or cave we had travelled through. We quickly moved away the rocks and limbs that blocked it and I almost despaired as we entered. The tunnel was absolutely dark and, without torches, we would not be able to go through. Then I recollected that K’an II and his party did have torches, so I searched like crazy. Once again, there was the roar of the Black Howler Monkey. Fortunately, without much delay, I found the torches in a dark corner behind a ledge. There was also oil and flint and I quickly lit two torches after which Molly and I started racing through the tunnel.

  The tunnel was mainly natural, but the mark of tools could be seen where narrow corridors were widened. Squeaking bats were lifting off the walls where they hung, flying above, between, and all around us. We slipped, from time to time, on the bat shit that covered the ground, but we did not fall. Certain walls had stones that reflected like gold and silver and precious stones and I would have loved to stop to examine them, but, at that critical hour of my life, I could not.

  We advanced for about three hours, not resting even though we had grown extremely tired then I heard the plunging cascades of the falls I had called the Hidden Valley Falls. The path led us behind the heaviest stream of the falls and, as we continued running, there was the roar of the howler just behind us. We were racing along a ledge, the waterfall to our right and the wall of the mountain to our left. Vampire bats were all around us, but since there was natural light, they did not provoke much fear in us. We were able to see all around us, but we still held on to the torches, not throwing them down. I knew that Sisimito was enchanted by fire, but he feared the open flame and the only way to destroy him was to set his hair on fire. If he were there, the torches might prove to be the only significant weapons we had.

  I stopped so suddenly that Molly, who was immediately behind me, bumped forcibly into me. My skin rose as koal seed erupted, once again. Standing, not far from me, was Sisimito and his mountain lion with the owl on its back. I tried to turn to see if I could retreat, but I had great difficulty in moving my eyes away from him. Living hate was alive in the eyes of the evil creature and that hate almost held me immobile. I felt the green scapular warm against my skin and I prayed to Bas. I managed to turn. A tribe of Black Howler Monkeys was already behind us.

  A guttural moaning was trapped within the tunnel, rebounding from the walls. Q’eq Ja Wíinik sat by the waterfall rapidly moving the white palms of his hands and soles of his feet in the usual fashion that made them disappear and reappear in a dizzy display. Standing beside him was Patzapik, his mouth foaming, his flaming eyes looking directly at me. Xwáay Éek’ was sitting on Patzapik’s back, laughing loudly as she held her breasts in her hands, offering them to me. The sudden loud sound of rattling chains made me jump and Molly drew closer to me. Rising up and down, appearing and disappearing within the falls, were Xwáay Ok’ol and Xwáay Kumätz. Xwáay Ok’ol’s tears were gushing and they were blood-red in the clear waters.

  “No salt. No Skinny, Skinny yu no know me? No salt. No Skinny, Skinny yu no know me?”

  I looked back at Sisimito. With the vampire bats flying in circles around her, Xwáay Chikoop hovered above another tribe of howlers that were coming in from behind Sisimito. Xtabai, with the face of a vulture, held the hand of a very large howler as they approached us. I did not see the remaining Kechelaj Komon, but I knew that they would be waiting for us at end of the passage … if we ever did leave the tunnel. Hach-k’ek’en Ajchaq’e and his warriors would tear me … us … to pieces and the Bocotora clapansaya would relish our remains.

  For a moment there was only the pleasant sound of the falls, then Etzelal Iq’ wailed through the tunnel towards us and like a chorus from Hell, the howlers began their loud and sinister roars. The vampire bats shrieked their eek-eek-eek-eek and increased their frenzied flight to a bloodcurdling pace while Xwáay Chikoop’s vampire teeth began growing menacingly long. Molly put her hands to her ears, trying to block out the diabolical symphony. I raised my spear and sent it hurling at Sisimito. The mountain lion immediately leapt in front of him, taking the spear deep into its flank. A geyser of blood rose from the animal as it twisted over and over, screaming loudly in intense pain, a human cry. Sisimito spoke as he emitted a horrendous wail of terror. The long spear held firmly and as the owl rose from the mountain lion’s back, the shaft of the spear struck it with deadly force across its body, sending it forcibly against the wall of the cave. The owl’s final eerie and frantic outcry gwow-gwow-gwow-gwow-gwot added to the horrifying sounds that filled the ledge behind the waterfall. Meanwhile, both tribes of howlers kept advancing, roaring and brandishing their teeth in extreme arousal.

  I felt beaten. I was beaten. Molly was kneeling, bent over, sobbing, her hands on her ears, her torch burning on the ground beside her. I knelt beside her and put my arms around her. I sensed intense warmth growing about my neck and took my free hand and felt for the warmth I knew would be there. The Green Scapular was warm in my hand as I gazed at the thundering falling water. Xwáay Ok’ol and Xwáay Kumätz were no longer in its waters, but were standing on the ledge holding their hands over their horrendous faces. Inhuman cries rose from their bodies as they contorted in spasms, changing back and forth their horrible aspects. Xwáay Éek’, still on Patzapik’s back, and Q’eq Ja Wíinik were all d
rifting backwards from the falls, harrowing animal cries coming from their mouths. There among the rushing falling waters I saw an image undulating with the falling water … materializing. The image was transparent, like crystal, the color of jade. It was difficult to see, but an image was there. I could see it.

  “Molly”, I cried, as I raised my hand and pointed. “Look at the falls.” She did and looked back at me, a blank expression on her tear lined face.

  “Look at the falls, Molly. There … There’s the image … the image I carved on your medallion. The image is there.”

  Molly looked at the falls. “I don’t see anything. I don’t see anything,” she cried, imploring.

  “Help us,” I pleaded to the image. I knew Molly was looking at me, most probably in complete abandon, but I kept looking at the waterfall.

  Suddenly, the vampire bats, those that were not already flying frantically, left their perches on the walls and ceiling, shrieking hysterically, eek-eek-eek-eek-eek-eek. I looked around. Bats were descending upon the wounded mountain lion, tearing at its flesh, as it tried to fend them off with its claws and fangs. Bats were ripping apart the owl in midair as they flew with the dying bird within the whirling winds of Etzelal Iq’. The vampires had lost control … or Sisimito had lost control. The mountain lion lurched towards Sisimito, growling in pain, and both were soon covered in a frenzied cloud of crawling and biting quivering wings, red eyes, hair, teeth, and saliva. The raving bats whorled in madness about the howlers then swooped towards them, attacking, but the howlers continued coming towards us, their fangs cracking and breaking as they opened and closed their jaws with great force.

  I looked back at the waterfall, pulling Molly beside me. I knew it was the end, but I was a soldier. I would go fighting. I stood, picked up Molly’s torch and threw it as forcefully as I could at the howlers advancing on us. It was to no avail. They were only a few feet away. I looked at Sisimito and as I felt his burning hatred entering my mind, I hurled my torch at him. It landed against his chest and, suddenly, his hair was alight.