by Parris Match
“Dacoh tread wearily…, wearily…, on this hopeful thirsty quest to find his comforting Mother. Threatening, overseeing, most thin slyest coyotes, would snarl and gnash their sharp teeth, peering as of above, from those parched meaningless pulpits of the loftier rock pointed pinnacles. Confused clouds of ashen dust entered Dacoh’s ears, nose and mouth, and his tears filled eyes could not clearly see. The scattered bones and bleached skeletons from all living things, were calmly viewed, then sadly passed, and soon dismissed; along the winding bewildering pathway, that Dacoh’s bleeding bared feet must trod”.
“Dacoh crumpled his forlorn body, tightly self-cuddling, laying close under to the uncompromising rock ledges, into the blank void of the baneful nights; trying to protect himself from the bitter cold, and harassing blustery critical winds, blowing from the highest deep forsaken canyons, crossways the unforgiving flat plain, of this empty and useless land. The barking, next yapping, then to howling, vocalizing scoundrels of this prior unknown darkness, shameless in their irrational selfish fear; pleading to the glowering phase of the unresponsive moon, to answer for the disappearance of these inevitable deadly events, that they could not control or likely ever change”.
“The anguished mournful groans of the disheartened Spirits, drifted from the lonely canyons cold lips, and abruptly fell to the ground; the four-winds’ sorrowful chants from the darkest hidden shadows, to leave only a wailful cry, soon after, a diminishing echo, from the tall cliffs weather-creased face. The abandoned superficial lone coyotes, yowling in answered chorus, unsure of their own shriveling fate; still patiently waiting, then pacing and waiting, sniffing the desiccated burnt air, for any surrendering carrions need, for a weak flaccid neuters’ quick disposal”.
“Day after day, during obscure sunlight, Dacoh faithfully trudged across the powdery poisoned desert floor; a dusky pinkish hue wafting lazily, back and forth, before Dacoh’s misgiven eyes; he not knowing whether it be a sign of the new beginning or a warning of the end. A boulder unturned or a mountain unclimbed has but only one side, a certain barrier to an insignificant ant or a mighty river. Still…, the Spirits’ doubted eternal promise, a plea to the Great Spirit that you shall live, confusing his well-intended direction, stopped the dusty muddled senses, of the brave little Dacoh”.
“The indistinct visionary smooth tawny hills in the near distance, beckoned to Dacoh; come to me…, come to me…; the blameless boy dragged his worn-out body, nearer and nearer, to the low easy mounds at the edge of the bleak exhausted wasteland”.
“This captivating clean sweet scent of his Mother’s ample blossom, first captured and then enveloped the dulled senses of the young Dacoh; the dead acrid smell of the barren desiccated desert, being irresistibly overcome by the heady aroma of the moist fragrance of new life. Dacoh anxiously clambered up the easily surmounted gravelly partition, reached and crossed the deciding rounded summit, and looked down upon a wide fertile verdant plain; His plump smiling generous Mother, standing there waiting, beside a many-branched sturdy ancient oak, with open arms outstretched, welcoming her faltering hesitant son”.
Bahcoo’ah stood silently for a long abiding moment, and then said; “ My Brothers: The many Spirits of our honored ancestors are with us always”; “ From the tiniest speck of sand, to the largest mountain high, the benevolent ancient Spirits are with us”; then confidently waiting again for a settling moment, he affectionately stated; “I…, Bahcoo’ah, am your brother, today and forever…”. Bahcoo’ah walked out of the filled arena, the brother’s thoughtful subdued accolade following him, “Aie”, “Aie”, “Aie”.
Several repetitive monotonous Story Tellers continued to relate their traditional narratives in the arena after Bahcoo’ah had left, the apathetic lull of sallow dimness returned to rest on the Golden City. After listening to the last of the Story Tellers the brothers filed out from the arenas, and they in the nether twilight dispersed throughout the Golden City, congregating in the many communal eating areas.
Commemorations redundant furious bonfires, blazing to the sky in the three over-stacked fire-pits, fervently illuminated the open courtyards, and flashed and flickered around their shadowy edges. After feasting themselves full of the food that was provided; and imbibing the fermented pulque of mescals imported intoxicating brew; a much beholden permitted stimulus, under Coiedeh’ah’s command and design. The stupefied brothers wildly danced, by the rhythm of the drums and the bean rattlers, and dueling flutists; two upraised voices, high-pitched pleas at the constantly transforming face of the distorted moon; while to out-drink the formless cloudy goblins. Sweatily circling conflagrations avoided splendid flames, in overly heated drunken heady celebration, of the coming summer solstice. Grotesque exaggerated marionettes; extended wriggling serpentine wavering boughs and lesser limbs, ebon skeletal tall tale peddlers, monstrous phantoms of awkwardness, fear and utter chaos joined, eerily reflected on the surrounding adobe walls.
The Story Tellers wandered about the Golden City, observing the wild party activities and watching over their frivolous brothers. Bahcoo’ah had converged with Iicoo’ah several times in his public walks within the darkened tarnishing Golden City; Iicoo’ah always being accompanied by, the muscular brazen Coiedeh’ah, and, Hodaie’ah of the glossy vanities. This evening encounter was notably slightly different; upon Bahcoo’ah and Iicoo’ah catching sight of one another in the dimness between the firelight, Iicoo’ah, with pointed effort, approached nearer and clearly announced; “Aie, My favored Brother, Bahcoo’ah…, Welcome again to my Golden City”; half-seen, Coiedeh’ah and Hodaie’ah nodded in the background. Bahcoo’ah acknowledged Iicoo’ah, and Coiedeh’ah, and Hodaie’ah, smiling confidently, replied; “Iicooah, the people of the Golden City are a tribute to your brotherly kindness”. Iicoo’ah nodded, then thinly smiling, responded; “The fertile people of the green plateau are very fortunate to have such a clever Story Teller”, and then added, graciously; “Enjoy the revelry, ‘You’ are an honored guest in the Golden City”; then Iicoo’ah and his exclusive ego-welded companions strolled on towards the revealed flare of the next bonfire.
Sunrise arrived with a nauseating smokiest bitter vengeance, the groggy brothers of the Golden City were not prepared for the excruciating heat; not even a whisper of fresh good air, to begin this day of regulated redemption. The morning passed slowly… … … With sufficient time before mid-day, the sluggish brothers, still deliberately drugged from the night before, dutifully filed into the arenas; the gruesome last rites of the summer solstice would begin.
The three encircled arenas had been fitly prepared for this absurd ceremony, dramas irrational and tragical stage had been set, institutionalized public fear must be satisfied. Handpicked brothers had equipped and set up the necessary props earlier that morning; four short posts had been placed into the ground in each of the three spheres, crowned with an attached cross member. Tamping and positioning the square posts, the affixed cross-pieces were symbolically faced to openly confront; the encroachment of the awakening east, the restlessness of the sleeping west, the cold dearth of the hibernating north, and the frenzied chaos of the south. Bright multi-colored thick ties dangled from the ends of these extended wooden arms. Laying in front of each post, was a massive distorted club, the butt ends carefully carved to represent these animals; the raiding ravenous wolf, the stealthy awaiting mountain panther, the depleting nervous slumbering bear, and the ever cantankerous perverse badger.
Some fearful neutered brothers sat in submissive cowed silence, contemplating the set scene of the ominous consequence of their silent timid majority, that they were soon to visually witness; guiltily glancing around for support to their evaporating morale, never soberly considering their own personal weakness; but for the good will of the allowed powers that be, there go I.
Hodaie’ah vaingloriously strutted into the crowded arena in all his, formal white and black, plumed splendor; he had begged to take this guiding role in the ceremony, and Iicoo’ah had acquiesced; thinking
, Hodaie’ah had served the people well, so let him represent the revered emblematic Eagle, the all-seeing attendant Spirit of deliverance. The white-torso-costume that Hodaie’ah wore was bedecked of the longest to lesser eagle feathers, extended from both sides of his body, head to foot. When Hodaie’ah raised his arms, he gave the distinct impression of the huge bird of prey, in the final swoop of its arresting flight. The imposing presentation of the eagle was of singular prime importance, for the soaring eagle would surrender the plaintive pleas, of the anxious apprehensive people, before the presence of the imperial Sun-Spirit. Hodaie’ah circled the sunken arena many more times, flapping his arms enthusiastically; fanatics egotistical drama in a fey flutter; interweaving between the cross-posts, repeatedly soaring and plunging in fanciful affected abandonment. Until the popinjay-bird finally came to rest in the center of the arena; standing in pirouette repose, quill-feathered quivering wings crossed in front, and grandiose feathered headdress humbly bowed, for his silent jealous applause.
With marked deliberation, the efficient brothers of the guard entered the arena prodding their shuffling stupefied bent victims. The prominent scarlet slashed berry-stained brothers drove their sightless flock of staggering stumbling sheep into the ring of the showground, delivering each, to an awaiting gnarled wooden post; forcing them to kneel, the mercenary soldiers stretched the bodies arms-out, and tightly secured their wrists, to the outermost points of the same timber crossbeam atop. The separate identity of the suffering people was indiscernible; all of them wore a large long thickly woven sack, brightly decorated with a grotesque caricature of a demonized face, upon that hidden insignificant non-descriptive place, where their unseen heads would be. The supplicating pathetic creatures tied to the posts remained motionless, their timorous useless fate had been sealed; they had been waterfed, groomed and maintained, only to serve this futile purpose. They had watched their children being slaughtered; brothers, sisters, mothers and fathers, being brutally massacred, eliminated in front of them; the hereditary outside possibility of future retribution could not be allowed to subsist. Coiedeh’ah and the slavish follower, Hodaie’ah, had served the democratic people well; The kind and tolerant People of the Sun.
Those brothers who were selected by lot from the ranks of: Iicoo’ah, Coiedeh’ah, Hodaie’ah, and a fourth shrewdly at-large; positioned themselves behind the stooped insensible targets; taking-hold, picking-up, lifting, and tightly clutching their huge carved and guts burnished ceremonial clubs. Previously, removed from prying eyes, outside of the inhabited vicinity of the Golden City, the chosen brothers had practiced carrying out their dictated duty, smashing gourds filled with water, pulverizing the gourds with a single blow. It would shame the brother who did not deliver the effective powerful vigor to his required official responsibility.
Iicoo’ah stepped forward, going from bagged-faggot to bagged-faggot, deliberately binding a strap around the loose-ness of the occupied sack, cinching it tightly against their necks. Hodaie’ah followed Iicoo’ah from post to post, circling the bonded dupe, rhythmically pounding his feet, and fluttering exaggerated wings. Once finished with the quarter positions, Iicoo’ah moved to the center of the arena. Iicoo’ah’s significant gesture symbolized; The People of the Sun would spill no blood in sacrifice. The highest disposition of the Sun-Spirit was soon to be at hand; Iicoo’ah raised his arms pleading to the Sun-Spirit, “All of the Spirits who reside in the endless firmament, Hear Me”; with Hodaie’ah wildly in flight throughout the arena. “We are your little brothers; we are your… brothers”, as Iicoo’ah lowered his arms; “This is our gift to you”. The well-armed brothers manipulating the clubs brought them down with severe impact against the disguised heads of the restricted scapegoats. A contained dull cracked thump was all that was heard. The squashed trivial recipients not knowing when the end was imminent, made not a slight sound, not the slightest last quiver; only little streamlets of yellow urine and brown excrement leaked down their bent legs onto the hallowed ground. Hodaie’ah, the imitation grand eagle, ecstatically flew around and around and around, and then quickly flitted up the steep ramp, from the center of the arena. Iicoo’ah turned in-place, purposely facing all who were in the arena, yelling out, “My Brothers, We have made our clear supplication to the Sun-Spirit”, “My Brothers, We have made our humble plea”. All of the brothers stood in a concerted mass and shouted to the sky; “AIE”.
The ill-tempered filled stadium of polluted men quickly emptied; Bahcoo’ah stood to the side, feeling a renewed crushing sadness; he knew this public self-abuse was not the answer, and inherently perverted evil. The People of the Sun were doomed to utter failure if they did not change their character and behavior. Iicoo’ah, in passing by Bahcoo’ah on the required ramp out of the arena, commented; “My Brother, Bahcoo’ah, Our good people are protected and in safe hands”. Bahcoo’ah looked into Iicoo’ah’s eyes, in subtle disappointed disbelief, but said nothing.
The club wielding executioners in the sacred arenas were joined by the other brothers drafted for this last customary obscene obligation; leading the remainder of the living captives-in-waiting, and clearing the perverted and profaned arenas, of their filthy irrelevant refuse. Mask-disguised stinking carcasses were duly carried by their sluggish stupid relatives to a deep craggy pit; a caved-in depleted black sinkhole, located a moderate distance from the open boundary of the Golden City. A luring profound bat infested hole in the ground, purported to have a fathomless floor; the disgorging funnel of the bloodthirsty outrageous sightless bats, a whirring summons from the evil sucking vampire-Spirits of the dark. The dispirited hostages were forced to throw their shrouded handsome brothers and maiden sisters, rejected bodies into the gaping hole; not any brothers’ blood to spill.
Then the remaining reluctant captives, were righteously hurled into the respiring fetid orifice of the moaning pit, curdling screams echoing in their disappearing descent … … … …, deeper into the obscure bad-breadth of the black abyss. Final bits of suspended sweet viscous-flesh, easily offered to the flying shiny-black vampires of the night, otherwise not to the predatory wolves and wolverines; then passed by; hanging and dripping scraps, temporarily held from a jagged volcanic snag and witness, then let go. Long-time and selected memory would deny all; an amassed immense pile of busted sculls and broken bones, would never reach the light.
Bahcoo’ah anxiously felt that he and his errant younger brothers should return to their homes. Gathering his still intoxicated brothers from their naps, he informed them of his desire to go back to the homely plain of comfort and peace. The aroused stuporous brothers were upset and disappointed at leaving so soon, but would pay heed to their respect for their elder, and follow their trusted Bahcoo’ah. They prepared for the long journey to the creative fertile fields, beside the cool serene meandering river.
Before departing, Bahcoo’ah met for the last time with his good brother Iicoo’ah. Bahcoo’ah put his supporting hand on Iicoo’ah’s shoulder and said; “Farewell, My brother, Iicoo’ah”, “You are welcome in my home tomorrow”. Bahcoo’ah felt a slight twinge in Iicoo’ah’s shoulder.
Iicoo’ah, with a full smile, replied, “Farewell and long life”, “My Brother”, “Bahcoo’ah”, “You are welcome to the Great Golden City for all time”. Bahcoo’ah and his stumbling brothers left the degenerate, shinning brassy, corrosion of the Golden City rightly behind, to return to their verdant plain and their awaiting colorful families.
Much of the Great Spirits’ evident light had already passed; Bahcoo’ah and his brothers did not travel afar before settling down for the night. Bahcoo’ah timely excused himself from his brothers’ campsite, sitting on the ground alone as the internal residues of the lowermost gone hardpan, a windswept dry, small ancient lakebed; his only near constant companions, the multitude of twinkling stars, and the fully situated moon, in the clear consoling chart, of the often studied familiar sky. The glory of the stellar Spirits disappeared in a deep gloom and Bahcoo’ah’s broken heart gently c
ried; and then he wailed into this moonlight hazy clouded darkness. Bahcoo’ah knew he must thoroughly examine the questionable issues he had gained knowledge of, during the summer solstice, and make immediate critical decisions, regarding the wellbeing of his family.
When Bahcoo’ah, through his allegorical story of the young boy Dacoh, veiled his gracious well-thought-out invitation, offered to the people of the Golden City, to migrate to the fertile irrigated plain; and again made it persistently clear, in planned privacy to Iicoo’ah; whence the formal kindly proposal of hospitality was offhandedly dismissed. Iicoo’ah, under no circumstance, could not recognize the conditions his people were living with, and what their future held; the obvious unspoken threat of famine was stealthily creeping across their shriveling land. Fear breeds blind intolerance, which soon grows into inflexible hatred. Coiedeh’ah and Hodaie’ah, supplying the wasted despicable solution to this ignored dilemma; the three Story Tellers colluding and silently denying the plight of their dry impotent withering brothers; and lastly, Iicoo’ah had always acknowledged Oceh, son of Bahcoo’ah, for he knew Oceh would be the next principal Story Teller on the rivers verdant plain. During this assembly of the summer solstice, Iicoo’ah never inquired of, or mentioned, Oceh, to Bahcoo’ah; not once. Iicoo’ah could never accept being an extended abiding honored guest in someone else’s home, for he could not imagine not being, The noble and elite Iicoo’ah of the Golden City.
