When Time is Cracked and Trees Cry: A mysterious novel that takes you deep into a Magical tour in the secrets of the Amazon jungle and the psychological depths of the human soul

by Nahum Megged

  As if her eyes had just opened, Christina looked at me and asked, “Why did we come here?”

  The witchcraft that had possessed her must have passed. The bird began to sing again, as if agreeing with me. I had a feeling that even the snake, which remained glued to the tree, was dancing to the sound of the music.

  “Such a beautiful voice,” Christina whispered, as if hearing it for the first time. “I’m so glad I followed you and got to hear it.”

  I looked at her and held her hand. “Aren’t you worried about Grisella?” I asked.

  She smiled at me, and in a low, calm voice answered that her daughter was living in Marina’s house and that Beatrice and Tourki were taking good care of her. “I’m in constant contact with her,” she said, “and talk to her almost every day. She misses me very much, but she knows I will soon be back with her.”

  I decided not to ask her what she meant, because I feared I wouldn’t understand her answer.

  A voice called from the bushes. Amir’s head appeared, and Yakura’s angelic figure followed. Her face looked grave and serious, and a strange fire burned in her eyes. I couldn’t understand why she was angry at us — was it because we had strayed so far, or because we did not continue on our way? Christina went to the enigmatic daughter of the forest and hugged her. Yakura’s eyes were wet with tears. She sat on the fallen trunk and with a tremulous voice said, “If you had only walked a little farther, you would have reached one of the foreigners’ camps and been back where you belong. They are not enemies, and their mission is to find those lost in the forest. I am not even allowed to point the rest of the way to you.”

  As if in response to her words, voices came from beyond the thicket, speaking in Spanish. Hearing that, Yakura stood and wordlessly led us to the camp of small huts that had been erected for us.

  39

  Dancing in the Dark

  Marina welcomed us at the opening of her small, personal hut. Her face was blank and expressionless. Christina opened her arms to her but quickly dropped them. She probably felt it wasn’t Marina she would be holding, but her shadow. We looked at Marina and realized something had claimed her and taken her to another world where her spirit wandered in far-off places. Surprisingly, Yakura did not hurry to get her healing herbs and rescue Marina from her plight. In a few words, she instructed us to let her go, and wait until she recovered.

  Evening fell, and night followed. I couldn’t fall asleep. Through the doorway, I recognized Michael leaving his and Clara’s hut. He approached the center of the small camp, took a few branches from an organized pile, placed them together, and set them on fire. On whose behalf was he working? Was he, like Christina when she had led me into the heart of the forest, now obeying an alien will, a voice commanding him to act on its behalf? Clara went out to him, and they both became busy with the task of feeding the flames. The darkness around them deepened, and the circle of firelight gleamed in the inky shadows. Fluttering leaves indicated a coming storm. Soon, lightning arrows were traced in the dark skies of the forest, followed by exploding thunder. I did not move from my place at the opening of my hut and continued to watch what was taking place next to the fire.

  The couple wasn’t bothered by the rain. They clung to each other, and Clara leaned her head on Michael’s shoulder. They remained that way even when the rain began to fall. I saw Amir go to them and try to catch their attention, but they seemed not to notice him, and remained in each other’s arms next to the campfire, whose flames danced in the wind and rain.

  When the fire was about to surrender to the rain and die, Clara pulled away from Michael and began to dance, shedding her clothes as she did. Michael undressed as well, and they pressed their bodies together. For a short time, they danced naked, then Michael wrapped his body around her and laid her on the water-drenched earth. A moment before their bodies joined as one, the fire died leaving them to continue their union in darkness.

  The storm was raging, and I feared the sacred camp would not be able to withstand the force of the rain, and the small huts would collapse. I lit a torch for some comfort. Christina suddenly ran into my hut, and her eyes looked just like Marina’s did earlier — empty and devoid of light. She entered in a frenzy, as if an alien force were directing her actions. She took off her clothes immediately, put out the torch, and lay beneath the hammock. Someone had placed some animal hides to lie on there. My body cried out for her. I left my hammock and lay beside her. Not even a god could have separated us.

  When threads of morning light penetrated the green branches of the hut, I woke up to discover I was on my own. Had I been dreaming again?

  The camp looked empty. I peeked into their huts and saw Christina and Marina sleeping. I preferred not to look into the couple’s hut, and the hut I thought to be Yakura’s was empty. Amir emerged from the forest. I stroked his wet, dark fur. A shrill voice that sounded like the whistling of a bird pierced the dim morning. I looked toward the sound, then lowered my eyes. Next to a tree shaped like a human being, with hands and feet, Yakura stood and smiled at me. I went to her. Raindrops glowed on her dark skin. I held her hand, delighting in her smile. We hugged each other for many minutes, and a great happiness filled me. I felt I was a part of an ancient drawing, in the arms of a forest goddess with a black dog standing beside us, wagging his tail.

  We began to walk in silence. I will go where she takes me, I thought. She is my destiny commanding me to go. We took the path down which Christina had led me the previous day. The night seemed to have changed the face of the forest, and the trail almost completely disappeared in the thicket. We passed the secluded hut and reached the place the bird had called from the day before. We walked a few steps more before Yakura stopped.

  “They are no longer there,” she said. “The white people have retreated. The rain must have chased them away to seek safer shelter.” She continued to push through the branches and I followed her. In a clearing, we found the remains of a temporary foreign camp. A few tent pegs remained in the ground. A pathway led from the remains of the deserted camp into the forest, and I knew if we took it, we might still meet the expedition party. “They are not the worst of the forest invaders,” said Yakura, “their intentions are good. But we will not continue, we mustn’t.”

  If the foreigners were gone, and we were not allowed to continue, why had this wondrous woman led me there?

  Yakura went to the trunk of a fallen tree. Its green branches suggested it had stood tall among the other trees until recently. She bent, burrowed under the leaves of a many-forked branch, found a crumpled piece of paper, and handed it to me.

  A few letters were missing; the water must have smeared the ink on the paper, but the writing was still legible. A few of the forest people cooperating with us have explained that according to all indications the rebels are about to execute the researcher they hold in captivity. It is important to locate and rescue him, as the forest and its people might lose the international community’s support. I finished reading and looked up at her.

  How had she known the letter was there? Was she the one who had buried it among the leaves, and did she understand what it said? I knew she wouldn’t answer my questions. And the nameless researcher, who was he — Herbert? Michael? Or was it me? The death of Herbert, Jr., was about to join the mysterious story of his father’s death and might provide the journalists enough material from which to weave stories of Greek tragedies occurring in the heart of the jungle. But still, I had a feeling the letter did not refer to him. Yakura had led me to this place. I tried to understand from her expression if she expected me to tell her what was written on the paper or whether she already knew what its message was and merely wanted to watch my reaction. The serious expression had disappeared and was replaced by a sweet smile.

  She held my hand and led me into the waking forest. Michael and Clara sat embraced next to the dying fire, and Christina and Marina, looking at ease, were sitting not far fro
m them nibbling on some fruit.

  “Where did you go?” asked Marina.

  “We went out for a walk,” I answered, and she must have found my answer to be satisfactory.

  We joined them, and ate some of the fruit from the tray. After finishing her meal, Yakura walked off without a word. Marina suggested that we go out for a walk near the camp and look for a stream to bathe in.

  Before long, I took out the wrinkled paper and showed it to Marina. She read it and turned pale. “Where did you find it?” she asked.

  I told her about the camp of foreigners who had left during the night. “Yakura says their intentions are good.”

  Marina took me into her arms as if trying to protect me. “I know there’s no point in urging you to run away,” she said. “I know you will stay here in the forest with me.”

  We kept walking until we reached a small stream and bathed in it, silent and pensive. When we dressed again, we felt the wind passing through the forest trees heralding the rain’s return. The rain had already begun to strike at us before we reached the camp.

  “From now on you won’t be on your own,” said Marina. “I will be with you all through the days and nights, and nothing will separate us.”

  By the time we went inside my hut we were completely drenched. It was midday, but the storm had darkened the sky. We hung our wet clothes to dry and climbed inside the hammock.

  40

  Opposites and Duplications

  Marina and I, wrapped in each other’s arms, chased destiny away. The dark day grew long and the rain refused to stop. We looked outside into the water-drenched darkness. What a spectacular sight! The primordial flood seemed to have been renewed in the heart of the forest. We went out of the hut to be washed by the heavens. Upon our return, fruit waited for us in the hut, along with a pitcher with hot water. Someone must be going about the camp unnoticed. With the aid of a small gourd, we washed ourselves with the hot water, yielding to the great pleasure.

  Toward evening, the rain stopped. We lay on the skins stretched beneath the hammock and sank into a long embrace. Now and then, I was struck by the feeling unknown eyes were watching us from the darkness, but I chased the disturbing thought from my mind. And thus, in each other’s arms, we slowly drifted into the realms of dream.

  In my dream, I went close to a bonfire, hypnotized by the light. Strangers were sitting around the fire, and one of them, wrapped in a white robe, turned to look at me. A tremor passed through me: A skull was gazing at me, staring with black, hollow sockets, and a skeletal hand motioned for me to join the circle. Marina clung to me and drew me out of the nightmare. And once again, we sank into a long embrace. I wanted to hold on to her and not fall asleep, but my eyes closed and the nightmare threatened to visit me again. I forced myself awake, held tight to Marina, and we sank into another embrace of yielding and forgetfulness.

  Youth pulsed through my body, and I knew I had been bewitched. We coiled into each other and joined in union again and again, as if in a ritual. We disentangled and then it happened: Warriors broke into the hut accompanied by strange dwarfs, the height and size of children. Torches illuminated the hut, which seemed to have grown larger during the night. When I turned to look at Marina beside me, I could hardly breathe. It wasn’t Marina lying there, but Yakura, and she was weeping. Marina was not far from us, and I knew she was sleeping a drugged sleep. Despite the commotion caused by the warriors and the dwarfs, her breathing was deep and regular and she continued to sleep.

  Xnen, Yankor, and Herbert, Jr., entered the hut.

  “It is time,” said Xnen.

  Someone brought Christina into the hut as well, sleeping a narcotic sleep like Marina. Clara and Michael stood in the hut opening, awake, yet with empty eyes. Yakura reached out to me, but one of the warriors pushed her away. This is the end of her virginity, I thought. New life might already be budding inside her.

  Xnen said something, and everyone went out of the hut. Strong arms held Marina and Christina and took them away as well. Only Yakura and Herbert remained with me. Yakura pressed herself against me, while Herbert sat quietly. He looked as if he had something to tell me but was trying to decide on the right words to communicate it.

  “I do not know which of us will die first,” he said at last, “but I thought we should speak.”

  Then he began his story. At first, I didn’t believe what I was hearing, his tale sounded too fantastic. But gradually, I understood there wasn’t one Herbert, but two. They were brothers, identical twins, but their father had given them only one name and trained them during their childhood to hide the fact they were two, to take each other’s place every opportunity they had, and think like a single person with two bodies. He believed the illusion of singularity would invest them with divinity, and their divinity would protect them from the dangers of the jungle. Many of the forest people believe that identical twins are the children of spirits and kill at least one of them.

  When they grew up and left the forest, they went their separate ways. The Herbert who was sitting with me in the hut had returned to the forest in order to fulfill his father’s dream of uniting the various tribes into a single camp, while his brother departed to the islands. It was there that he met Christina. When he arrived in Don Pedro with her, their father had ordered them to exchange roles. The one living with Christina returned to the forest, while his brother set out for town and lived with Christina.

  When rumors of his father’s death reached his ears, he returned to the forest, where the paths of the two brothers crossed again. But without their father’s guidance, the course of their lives had gone awry, and the one who had gone with us on the great journey to Omauha’s mountain disappeared. His brother, who was sitting with me, had had to take his place. It had been a long time since the two brothers had met, and the brother telling their story voiced his grave concern that his other half was lost.

  Xnen suddenly entered the hut, his body trembling and his gaze hesitant. Stammering, he told us scouts had recognized a group of foreigners not far from the camp. “Among the foreigners the scouts have recognized this man now sitting with us,” he said and pointed at Herbert, “and I cannot understand it…were the scouts wrong? How can the same man be here, with us, and at the same time be with our enemies?”

  A broad smile lit Herbert’s face. His brother was still alive, and unlike him might even survive the great journey.

  Xnen went to Yakura, placed his hands on her head, pressed her eyelids closed and chanted in a low, monotonous voice. Yakura nodded once and left the hut. I asked Xnen where Marina and Christina were, and he said they were in a safe place and would return to us soon. Lastly, he instructed Herbert to accompany him, and they left me by myself. Something was irritating my eyes, so I headed outside.

  All the trees grew duplicate images, and a hallucination filled the entire camp with double images. Two black dogs, Amir and Cerberus, came to me wagging their tails and asking for a pet. Each face had four eyes instead of two. Marina and Yakura merged into a single image, then split up again. Four women passed in front of me, and I knew one of them resided in the very depths of my being. The god of the mountain was revealed to me. His face transformed into an extended hand, and the hand grew a face. Perhaps my own. And once more, hands grew from inside the face, and the hands clasped each other. Yakura emerged from out of the visions, just one Yakura. She led me back to the cabin and held me. Her body said as long as we remained together, death shall have no hold on us. We clung to each other, and I hoped daylight would never come.

  41

  The Mud Sculpture

  At dawn, the rain returned. Ageless women came into the hut, woke Yakura, and carefully examined her body. When they left, she sighed with relief. I suggested we go outside to wash in the rain and bask in its smell. She took my hand and led us outside. The rain kept everyone inside, yet I could still hear some unusual activity near the camp boundaries. I shar
pened my ears and eyes as much as I could.

  “Let’s return to the hut,” Yakura suddenly said. “I sense that evil spirits are invading the camp.” She spoke with a fear that reminded me of long forgotten things.

  “The hut won’t help us,” I said. “The evil spirits will find us there as well.”

  Yakura did not answer, and the strange rustling intensified. I guess the warriors also sensed it, because they filled the camp, trying to hunt down the sounds with their ears, to sense their taste and identify their source. Xnen appeared as well, holding a vessel with something burning in it. The rain quickly extinguished the flame. I asked Yakura where were the midgets who had come to my hut the day before.

  “Midgets?” she asked.

  “Yes,” I said, “warriors only as tall as children.”

  Yakura looked at me with concern.

  “There weren’t any midgets?” I asked.

  “If there were,” Yakura answered, “you were the only one who saw them.”

  And at that moment I saw them again, gathered in the rain in the middle of the camp. They were dancing in a circle, holding hands, and the circle split in two, drawing a figure eight, then coiling like a snake until it vanished. The vision was gone and the strange noise had stopped. Only raindrops now danced where the midgets had been. I examined Yakura’s and the warriors’ faces and realized I had been the sole witness of the stormy dance. The silence that settled over the camp had gradually calmed the warriors, and after a while they dispersed.