by Nahum Megged
“Why did you do that? Why did you point the gun at me?” I asked.
“I’m sorry,” George answered. “Two days ago, someone stole that box from me, and when I saw it, I instinctively drew the gun without thinking.”
Christina immediately came to me and hung on tight as if she were trying to protect me, while Clara remained where she was, staring at me with a blank expression.
“Let’s get out of here,” I told Christina. “I have a feeling we’re not wanted.”
I took Christina’s hand, and we went out of the school together. First, we headed for her hut to collect a few belongings that she had missed in her hurry to leave. A large picture stood on the table in her house, bearing a drawing of the hollow-eyed face. A poppet covered by a white sheet was beside the picture. To my amazement, I discovered it was made in the image of Xnen.
“I know this man!” Christina told me when she saw the figure in my hand. “I met him next to the river once, in the hut where we met Yankor. They were both there. Yankor was dressed, and this man was completely naked.”
I examined the poppet for a long time. I had no doubt it was used for witchcraft. It was possible that an etuko, an evil sorcerer, had used it to trap Xnen’s shadow and move it to his Tepoi, or a good-intentioned marikitare tried to ensure the evil directed at the man would harm only the poppet.
We left the picture and the poppet in place and went off to the post office. Francisco didn’t notice us when we entered his office. He was absorbed in listening to the headphones he was wearing. He motioned for us to wait when he saw us.
“They are very busy, your friends,” he said a few moments later as he removed his headphones. I found a way to listen to the calls coming out of George’s hotel room.
“First, there was an urgent conversation with someone who answered on the governor’s behalf and said that in light of the new circumstances, the gamma plan should be activated. Then there were a few international calls in languages I am not familiar with. Here, you might be able to understand.”
The first call was in English and had also involved discussions about an emergency plan that had to be activated. The speaker on the other end of the line had asked George to demonstrate caution and moderation and mainly not to rush things, because there was a lot at stake. Another call had been conducted in Creole, and Christina translated it for us. In that conversation, someone had been asked to hurry with his men to Don Pedro.
We returned to Marina’s house full of fear and questions. There wasn’t any point in frightening the servants, as we assumed at least several days would pass before the emergency plans we had heard about would be carried out. In the meantime, the passenger ship and its escorts were supposed to arrive in town. I invited Christina to come with me to my room, and when we went inside I suggested that we tell each other all our secrets, even those we had thus far preferred to keep to ourselves.
I went first. I told her about my reason for coming to the forest and my restless escape, an escape leading me to a place from which no further escape would be possible. She gently stroked my head, as if trying to protect me from my future. I silently buried my head between her hands, until we both sat back and she began her own story.
“I haven’t told you the whole truth about my family,” she said. “It’s true that my family owns much land and assets on one of the islands, but the source of my family’s wealth comes from trading with the locals of this area, and the trade they deal in is not always legal. My father used to trade everything you could possibly imagine: gold, drugs, weapons, even slaves.
“During my childhood, these crimes were hidden from me. As I grew up and realized what my father and brother were dealing in, I joined a revolutionary group so I could atone, even a little, for their actions. I discovered my father was operating mercenary gangs in the forest comprised of islanders and converted men. These people were willing to commit the most heinous crimes at my father and brother’s command. There are many people and organizations involved in this trade. Everyone knows, everyone keeps their mouths shut, and everyone partakes of the profits: the government, the army, the police, foreign embassies. Large amounts of money pass from hand to hand. I do not claim that my family is responsible for all this trade, but I think my father was one of the major merchants in the area, perhaps the biggest.
“The revolutionary group I had joined was also connected to Herbert. That was how I met him. I was immediately swept away by his great vision. He claimed the terrible reality reigning in the forest could be changed, that the forest and its dwellers could be saved from its enemies. He told me about a great civilization that used to exist in the forest in ancient times, a civilization that his father, the famous anthropologist who disappeared, had uncovered. He promised that with the secrets his father had learned all the various tribes of the forest could be united, and the invaders could be chased out.
“Sometimes he would get carried away in his stories and claim that the gravitational center of the universe lies between the mesas, a great secret that served as the foundation of the universe. He said those who discovered this great secret would be able to bring peace and prosperity to the entire world. I didn’t believe all his stories, but I was won over by his dedication and concern for the forest. Only now do I begin to understand how this Don Quixote might be dangerous to the forest and its inhabitants.”
When she finished speaking, she rested her head on my shoulder and closed her eyes.
I asked Tourki to prepare a light meal for us, and we rested until our food was ready. After we finished eating, we returned to my room, and I asked Christina to open William’s journal. The page she opened to was full of erasures, and the reading was slow and difficult.
In the evening, Xnen told me that foreigners, he called them “the natives of moon and coal,” were not far from the camp and that the warriors were preparing traps for them. They will hunt them in the same way wild cats are hunted. Pits had been dug in advance and were covered with a bed of leaves, which looked like the forest floor.
Xnen told me that the natives of the moon and coal were led by two Nave, and they came to steal souls and take them to the world beyond the forest. Luckily, the warriors had recognized them before they were able to raid the camp.
I headed out of the camp with Xnen to watch the unfolding events from afar. I took my binoculars with me and was able to observe every detail in the clearing where the pits had been dug. The warriors climbed trees and were camouflaged in the branches. It was impossible to see them. We heard a fierce whistle, and the natives of moon and coal, who were walking ahead of the larger group stopped. They must have sensed something. Suddenly, a wild boar broke from between the trees, followed by a feline that looked like a jaguar. The frightened invaders began to shoot, and the sound of firearms awoke all the voices of the forest. A great commotion followed.
The line of men continued to advance, and suddenly the earth swallowed those who walked at its head. Someone tried to rescue those who had fallen and was swallowed as well. When the invaders realized this was an ambush, they began to fire in every direction while retreating. The two white men at the end of the line fired in the air and tried to stop the retreat. The Yarkiti warriors took advantage of the commotion and fired curare arrows at the invaders. The retreat turned into a panicked escape. Arrows were fired at the stragglers until the last of the invaders disappeared from sight. They must have escaped to boats waiting for them on the riverbank. The warriors in the trees weren’t in a hurry to emerge from hiding and climbed down only when they felt the danger was completely over. They disarmed the dead, threw their weapons into one of the pits and filled it with dirt. After that, they carefully covered the other pits so the forest dwellers won’t fall into them…”
The sound of gunshots interrupted her reading, as if we had entered William’s story and the battle had drifted from the jungle to the town. A tremendous blast rattled the house. It s
ounded like a grenade. Grisella ran into my room in tears, and Tourki followed her, her eyes filled with dread.
“Sir,” she said, “this is happening right here, next to our jetty. There are armed men there who came from town, and they fight the Noneshi who came from the river.” She pulled me after her to a spiral staircase I had never seen before, leading to a small, hidden window in the attic. I could see bodies scattered close to the jetty, and the ghosts retreating toward the river while firing their weapons. The sound of an engine churning water soon followed, and a few minutes later, everything was still.
Like the Yarkiti warriors, I waited until certain the danger had passed, then I carefully went out to the jetty. Slowly, the townspeople, who had also been waiting until the battle was over, joined me. Five casualties were lying dead between the jetty and the stairs to the house. Among the dead I recognized George and the policeman who had accompanied us to the teacher’s house. Two islanders were lying next to them. The face of the fifth dead man was covered by a mask.
Clara arrived, saw George lying dead on the ground, and broke into anguished sobs. She kneeled beside him and covered his body with tears and kisses.
The port officer showed up with the doctor and the only remaining policeman in town. A tight ring of townspeople closed in on the battlefield. I didn’t see Francisco anywhere. I hugged Christina, who was standing next to me.
“Chris,” I whispered to her, “it is not a coincidence that this battle happened here, next to the house. They wanted to kill or take us but instead had to fight each other and retreat.” Tears filled her eyes.
Tourki came to us and indicated that someone was waiting for me in the house. Yankor was in my room.
“We must depart earlier than expected,” he said. “We leave tonight.”
Christina asked to join us, but Yankor insisted that it was impossible. She had a small daughter who needed her, and she must stay with Grisella in town. After I was taken into the forest, he promised her, Marina’s house would be safe, and they would both be able to remain in it, at least until Marina and her mother arrived. Tourki would take care of them. Christina hugged me and cried. The sound of her crying mixed in my mind with that of Clara’s weeping, still echoing in my ears.
I wrote brief letters to my children and asked Christina to give them to Francisco. I packed some essentials in a small bag and put my diary in it as well. When I was ready to leave, I embraced Christina and discovered she was falling asleep in my arms.
“She will wake up in the morning,” Yankor told me and gestured for me to put her in bed. I did as he asked, and we went on our way.
Part 3
Back in the Forest
24
Together
Three nights and three days we waited in Yankor’s cave, eating nothing, drinking from the water of the spring, purifying ourselves before the journey, and on the fourth night they came. Wearing jaguar masks, the warriors burst into the sacred complex. Bows were in their hands, and quivers were tied to their thighs. I knew the arrows in the quivers were tipped with curare, because the tips were covered by fabric. The warriors danced around the spring and the cave opening, howling like jaguars. The noise was terrible. I needed no explanations. I gathered my belongings and we left.
We walked single file, on pathways unseen even in daylight. The voices of the warriors, or perhaps they were the voices in my head, spoke of beasts and snakes going out in such shadow-filled hours to hunt. Then without warning, we stopped. One of the warriors took a lighter from his backpack and with the skill of a converted man lighted a branch dipped resin. The forest filled with light. The warrior lit another branch, and once more the column of warriors went on its way, a burning branch at its head and a burning branch at its tail. I was afraid rain might come and extinguish the flames. As if answering my fears, Yankor muttered incantations intended to stop the waters.
At dawn, we reached a clearing overlooking the river. Weak from the long walk after three days of fasting, my fatigue bordered on exhaustion. In the days I had spent in the cave, I hadn’t eaten anything and hardly slept. I knew that if we kept going at that pace, the warriors would need to carry me or abandon me to the jungle animals.
A few of the warriors took off their masks and went to catch fish and forage for fruit. A short time later, they were back with their spoils. The fast was broken, and I felt a little better. When we finished the meal, a chorus of voices drifted through the air. Gradually, the words became clear. It was a Yarkiti song about the love of Minare and Omauha and, as if in a mirage, naked dancing girls emerged from between the trees, holding their heads up proudly and carrying dancing sticks. The warriors joined the girls and danced with them in a large circle that coiled into itself until it looked like a snail. Only two of us remained in the center of the snail, Yankor and I. the old shaman didn’t look at the dancers. His head was lowered to the ground, on which he marked symbols with a pointed stick.
The snail unraveled and two teenage girls ran with graceful movements into the trail opened between the male and female dancers, kicking their legs up in the air. Another girl followed after them, her body and face covered by leaves. Her steps were measured, as if afraid she wouldn’t dance properly. I thought she might be trapped in a dream state. All the other girls were dancing with great skill and confidence, while there was something tentative and hesitant in that girl’s steps.
A stifled scream erupted from my mouth when her face was finally revealed. Marina, completely naked, other than a few leaves still glued to her skin was standing in front of me. Yankor raised his head, looked at me, and I thought I saw a smile on his lips. Only three days ago she was still on the ship making its way to Don Pedro. How had she reached the heart of the forest? And what of her mother? Her illness might sicken her again, now that her beloved daughter was no longer with her, either kidnapped, or gone of her own accord.
Marina walked toward me, as if lost in a vision, looking at me, yet seeing nothing. Her spirit traveled elsewhere. When she reached the center of the circle, she collapsed. I lunged toward her but was restrained by many hands. A few of the female dancers stopped and bent over her body. They took the pumpkin containers they carried on their shoulders and splashed water on her face. The remaining leaves covering her had fallen away, and her ebony-colored body was revealed in all its beauty. Her legs were spread, her head tilted to the side, and only the whites of her eyes could be seen.
She blinked slowly a few times, as if in a trance. The warriors retreated to the edges of the circle, and she stared at the dancing women surrounding her. I think the sight of women calmed her. The teenage girls continued to dance, gradually exposing the warriors hiding behind them. Marina’s eyes moved around the circle until they rested on Yankor and me. She smiled easily, as if the horror had abandoned her all at once. She sat, stood up slowly, and came to me. All the circles had opened. The dancing stopped, the singing was silenced, and we sank into a long embrace.
“Thank you for coming back,” I said, my eyes tearing up.
A deep silence accompanied our embrace. It seemed that even the forest animals had ceased their chatter. I felt her tears mixing with mine and dripping down our cheeks. That’s when I knew: We were returning to the forest together.
The heavy silence continued even after we had separated from each other. One of the girls handed her a parcel with her clothes. Marina dressed slowly and even put shoes on her feet, as if announcing she intended to walk where she willed from that moment on. I sent Yankor a look seeking explanations, and the eyes of the old shaman wandered off to far places.
“Are the people of the ship safe?” I asked, and the old man looked at me and nodded. Marina’s eyes filled with tears again. I would hear the story of her return to the forest at a later time, or so I hoped.
We got up and started walking. Marina and I held hands, and I stole occasional glances at her.
“She is going back home,�
� Yankor, who was walking behind us, whispered to me.
Soon after, we reached the riverbank. A few boats were waiting for us there, carrying warriors bearing spears, bows, and arrows. Two of the boats were empty. I guessed the dancing girls had traveled in. We stepped into the empty boats, and the line of vessels began to move down the river. Now and then, another boat passed us, and its passengers greeted us with loud cries. After about an hour, the boats turned into a system of man-made creeks or channels. We were back in the hidden world of the forest.
I thought about the people left in town. I hoped Christina and Grisella were in a safe place and that Francisco had boarded the ship and was now on his way to the next stop in his life. The image of Beatrice, whom I knew only from the many photographs I had seen in Marina’s room, visited my thoughts. She must be aware her daughter had left for the forest, maybe hoping to connect with her father’s heritage, a heritage that had been kept from her until recently. Perhaps it was still hidden, or maybe Beatrice had had enough time to reveal the secret to Marina during their trip from the coastal city to Don Pedro.
For long days we traveled by water, and for long days we walked, trading the river creeks for hidden forest footpaths only to return, once more, to the water channels. At night, the warriors and the young women set up a temporary camp for us to sleep in. Sometimes we stayed in the camps for several nights. I didn’t know if it was for spiritual reasons or for more practical reasons — to avoid enemies or other obstacles.
Marina and I did not exchange a single word, even as we walked hand in or sat next to each other in the boat. We always stayed together in the camps, in the same hut, but we never exchanged words, avoiding touching, embracing, or kissing. Only our hands would occasionally meet to hold each other. We were joined in silence. We maintained our silence while going for our morning bath in one of the streams, pools, or creeks scattered along the way. When she descended naked to the water, like one of the forest women, it seemed she didn’t notice me or the warriors, as if her world had closed in on her. I didn’t ask her why. My world had closed in as well, and no words came out of my mouth, not to her, Yankor, or the warriors.
