The Empty Hammock

by Barrett, Brenda

  “Yet still, you help to prepare me for the joining?” Ana breathed.

  Could it be that the placid Arawaks, the friendly people, had human emotions like jealousy and dissatisfied mother-in-laws?

  Ana started to grin.

  The women looked at each other and shook their heads.

  “I am happy to be here right now.” Ana looked at each one of them. “I never dreamt that I could have such a wonderful time, I hope with time you will like me, Farisa and even you, Antia.” She pointed to the woman. “Even though, I really do not know your reasons for not liking me.”

  “I like you,” Antia said solemnly, “you are like a daughter to me, but I just don’t understand you, sometimes when you wake up from your dreams, you do not recognize me. It hurts.”

  So she had frequent dreams as a Taino?

  “Do people listen to me when I tell them my visions?”

  “Yes they do,” Basila looked at her kindly. “They always do. The Behique listens to your council. When you were a child, the old Cacique would consult you and would not go to sea if you had seen the vision of a huracan.”

  Basila touched Ana’s hair. “You are much valued, Ana. Orocobix is getting a good partner in his first wife.”

  “Tell me about Orocobix,” Ana asked Farisa as the women started to string shells on her long plaits of hair.

  “You grew up with him,” Farisa said puzzled, but changed her mind when she saw the look that Basila gave her.

  What was happening with the girl Ana? Was she really losing her senses?

  “Well you used to play in the river all day while we were still living in Maima, at Chief Guarno’s village. You collected stones and killed birds and we would cook it. Orocobix had a strange idea that he was going to build a canoe and sail it all the way to Bohio.”

  “That’s modern Haiti,” Ana squealed, “Bohio is what we call Haiti.”

  “What is she saying about Haiti?” Farisa asked frowning. “Of course Bohio is Haiti.”

  “Stand still,” Basila said sternly. She glanced at the others her heart heavy, sooner or later, someone will question what was really wrong with Ana and she didn't know how to protect the girl.

  People with mental illnesses were left in a house at the bottom of the village. Ana would be important to her people and she wanted to see her married to the Chief and live beyond reproach, no matter what she said, or how she acted.

  Farisa’s hand stilled in Ana’s hair, and then she continued, “Before you were born, we all went to Bohio,” her voice was thoughtful, “a whole family would be in the canoe and we traveled for ten moons. Your mother became sickly; she just had to see Chief Guacanagari. She insisted that he would tell her why she was not well.

  He stood waiting for us, when we arrived; he touched your mother’s belly and said this one will be special. I never forgot that Ana.” She looked sad. “Maybe I was jealous that my child, was not pronounced special by the Great Chief, but I never forgot it. I guess I should be thankful that your lineage will now be entwined with mine.”

  She finished beading Ana’s hair in silence.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  The incessant knocking of the drums reached Ana’s ears as she stood in the middle of Basila’s hut. She was told earlier that it was the family hut where they all lived. It would be her last time in that hut, as she would be living with Orocobix in his bigger place after this. A strange sort of excitement gripped her as she thought of the up coming ceremony.

  Everybody was excited, their brightly painted bodies and shells dazzled her. It was like playing dress up, Taino style. She fingered the beads that were strung on her forehead; each bead was interspersed with gold.

  The overall effect was impressive. She even had gold around her waist. The gold was pure in its primitiveness and Ana thought, no wonder Columbus forgot his high ideals when he came here. Christianizing the heathens, she snorted.

  She learnt from Basila that only the members of the Chief’s family wore gold.

  Tanama stood in the corner of the hut, her armband stark white against her arms, she was not too happy with Ana. Ever since Ana got back from the hut, where they were preparing her for the ceremony, Tanama had been silent. She stared accusingly at her sister and pouted.

  “I am more beautiful,” Tanama hissed to Basila, “why her?”

  “Shush.” Basila looked at Tanama. “The chief’s emotions have nothing to do with beauty, it has to do with love, just be happy for her.”

  “She’s crazy. I don't want to be a second wife to her,” Tanama wailed.

  “Who says he will take other wives,” Basila said quietly, “if she gives him enough sons he may not want another wife.”

  Tanama flounced from the hut.

  The drum beating became louder and more incessant as if they were talking to her.

  Ana shuddered, she remembered how Orocobix had looked three days ago, when she awoke from her dream and found herself in the past, she had not seen him since and she was a bit scared of this joining thing.

  Suppose she never got to go back home?

  No more Howard to contend with. No more marketing.

  Her mother and brother would miss her. They were used to not hearing from her for days, but what would they do if she went missing?

  How much time had lapsed since she became lost in this surreal world?

  What were they doing now?

  The questions followed her as she walked outside to the well-lit square. This was just an empty spot near the chief’s house. The beating of the drums got louder and then stopped. The lonesome sound of a reed started. The gentle whisper of its tones seemed to wrap itself around her as she stood in the circle before the firelight.

  There were people surrounding the fire, their faces garishly painted. The crowd was not huge and Ana realized that it was really not a large village.

  Her eyes searched for Orocobix, and she found him staring at her intently across the firelight. He wore two armbands; his hair was loose with colorful feathers tied at the end. Shells and gold draped his neck; he looked handsome and proud and sat upright with his legs crossed.

  What are the odds that you would meet a man like this in your own time? A voice in her head asked her. She felt drawn to him. Was this finally the attraction she was searching for?

  “Go to him and kneel before him,” Basila advised her quietly.

  Ana walked across to Orocobix and knelt before him. He held out his hands and she scooted on the ground so that she could take them in her own.

  The old man, who sat beside Orocobix, stood up and Ana noticed that his lower body was covered with a short loincloth that had an interesting pattern. The armband around his hand looked as if it was wrapped too tight. His hair was silver-gray and he had a single feather in it. His eyes were watery and Ana recognized the odor of tobacco on him.

  He stood over them, and a young girl, who bent her head respectfully, carried an ugly wooden head to place beside her and Orocobix. Ana glanced at the ugly image and noticed that its flat head had what looked like smoking grass on it; she could hardly focus on Orocobix after that.

  Yes, she had seen them throughout the village and even in Basila’s hut but it hadn't registered that they were worshipped. This was the biggest one she had seen so far. She searched her mind for the name in her history book. They were called zumi…zenty…no, it was zemi. These were the representatives of the Taino spirit world.

  Orocobix squeezed her fingers and she gazed back at him.

  “Now you will feel no rain, for each of you will be shelter for the other. Now you will feel no cold, for each of you will be warmth to the other. Now you are two persons, but there is only one life before you. Go now to your dwelling, to enter into the days of your life together. May your days be good and long upon the earth.” The old man’s gravelly voice washed over them in the still night.

  Orocobix nodded and Ana followed this respectful gesture while staring into his liquid brown eyes, his hands were slightly trembling an
d she had to ease her fingers a bit from the crushing weight of his.

  “Han-ha’n catu’- yes let it be this way,” the villagers responded. Their features looked eerie in the flickering light of the fire, and for a moment Ana felt like laughing. Would it ruin the solemn ceremony if she laughed and rolled on the ground?

  She was finding it hard to concentrate; the pungent odor of jasmine was wafting gently in the air. The villagers chanted han-ha’n catu’ over and over again.

  What would Mr. Wilkins say if he could see his top marketing executive, kneeling down, her painted breasts hanging free, in front of a nearly naked man, and in a circle of naked chanting people?

  She knew she was on the verge of panic.

  How long would this chanting last?

  The drums started and then stopped and then the faint whistle of the reed drifted around her.

  Ana looked over at the man who was playing, he had his mouth pouted and was blowing with all his might in a smooth stick. The instrument was primitive, but the music was surprisingly emotive.

  The gleam in Orocobix’s eyes was slightly predatory; he was looking at her as if she was his last meal.

  Ana swallowed. She was attracted to him too and felt slightly ashamed when her erect nipples pushed through her body paint. She looked away from him.

  His fingers tightened on hers, crushing her small bones and she was forced to look up at him. He smiled at her knowingly and touched her lips gently with a finger.

  The drums started again and as the old man stood his shriveled penis swung like a pendulum. Ana stared at it fascinated, he did not have on one stitch of clothes; his whole body was finely lined and painted in a weird pattern.

  She almost jumped as the old man touched her hair and then Orocobix’s chanted something guttural. She could not say which language he spoke.

  Orocobix stood up and gently lifted her to her feet. The people cheered, their teeth gleaming in the dark.

  Ana blushed.

  While the old man had been blessing them, she was more focused on his swinging phallus, speculating on his comfort with his shriveled body.

  Now she was married or joined. She was now Mrs. Cacique for better or worse.

  She sat beside Orocobix on a low stool, which was uncomfortable in its hardness and tried to make out the features of the people around.

  The scent of food wafted on the air and Ana’s belly rumbled, she had barely eaten during the day because of her preparation.

  A young lady in a white loincloth brought a calabash bowl and bowed before Orocobix who took it from her. He bowed over Ana’s hand and gave her a sip. It was strong; the liquid burnt her throat as it went down. Orocobix took a sip and handed the bowl to the old man who sat back down.

  Was this hygienic?

  Ana panicked, these were not the days of antibiotics and aspirin.

  Orocobix grinned at her, taking in her bemused expression and pulled her to her feet; he carried her to the center of the circle and started to dance.

  Ana stood looking at him incredulously as his feet moved one way and then the other. He danced without self-consciousness and Ana felt conspicuous. She was just standing there because she had no idea how to dance. The last time she had attempted to do anything remotely like dancing before an audience, was in primary school. She had fallen from the stage onto her butt, in front of an auditorium full of friends and family.

  Why should she do it now?

  Orocobix looked at his wife and smiled; she was biting her lips shyly and wringing her hands, so innocent, and all his.

  “Ana.” he took her hand and drew her to him, his heart was beating fast and he could feel her softness beside him, “just move, no one will mind what you do.”

  He moved slowly with her and she reluctantly matched his steps.

  “That’s better,” he whispered in her ear. The drum started in earnest and other people joined them in the circle of the light.

  Ana danced until she was breathless. She suddenly felt free, her body and the music were one. Panting and sweating, she was coughing slightly when Orocobix pulled her to sit beside him on the low, uncomfortable stools.

  There were platters of food being handed around by women and one solicitously waited on them. The crowd got rowdy and Ana sat bemusedly beside her new husband.

  He glanced at her frequently, his hand gently rubbing hers. Sometimes his fingers would brush her leg and Ana would clamp them together, all her nerve endings were on alert.

  “We will retire soon,” he whispered in her ears.

  Ana jumped nervously and involuntarily shivered as his hot breath touched her neck. Nobody said anything about retiring with her new husband.

  She had never slept with anyone before. Would her first time be in a dream with a Taino chief? Nick, her ex-boyfriend, would really have a laugh at this one.

  She rubbed her bare arms; there was a cold breeze blowing from the sea. Her nipples puckered with the change in temperature and she self-consciously crossed her hands over her breasts. She was never going to wear her nakedness comfortably. Orocobix looked at her and smiled, his lips turned up sensually. A heat was building in his eyes as his gaze raked her features possessively.

  The fact that Orocobix would have no clothes to remove jolted her, leaving her slightly breathless. He seemed to read her thoughts, and the underlying anticipation that had been sizzling between the two of them increased two-fold.

  What kind of lover would this man be? Would he be gentle or aggressive like a savage?

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Orocobix stood up abruptly, as if he couldn't take the strain of waiting any longer. “We are going to make our joining official, Ana.”

  The villagers cheered as they heard the loud pronouncement. The music picked up a frenzied beat as the new couple made their way to the Chief’s house.

  Ana felt slightly embarrassed; she could feel the eyes of the people watching her as she entered the square shaped hut. The interior of the hut was larger than she expected. In the center of the hut were two huge hammocks, tied to the center pole, which was decorated with wild flowers. In a corner was a huge clay pot with patterns all around it, at the other side of the cleanly swept dirt floor were four low stools with crude patterns carved into the sides.

  Ana glanced at the corner of the hut, at what appeared to be a make shift bed, piles of cloth were neatly arranged on top of what looked like straws.

  “I thought Tainos slept in their hammocks,” she said out loud to break the nervousness that had her in its clutches.

  Orocobix spoke directly behind her, his heated body touching hers. “We sleep in hammocks…other things are done right here,” he pulled her over to the pile of cloths and urged her down. “I sent all the way to Guanahatabey for cloths as soft as these.”

  “Guanahatabey is Cuba,” Ana blurted out nervously as Orocobix hugged her to him.

  “I have waited all my life for you Ana,” Orocobix whispered in the dark. He ran his hands through her hair. “I get hard thinking about you in the day time, and sometimes I have to hide my hardness from the elders in the council meetings. If you had not joined with me, I would be hard forever, no end in sight.”

  Ana chuckled in the dark, enjoying his warmth and the sweet scent of jasmine on his skin…and his talk of hardness.

  “I would conquer the Caribs for you,” he trailed his fingers around her breast and his voice got huskier, “I will never allow anyone to come between us. If you are ever captured I will come after you, even if I will lose my life. This is my pledge to you, my flower.”

  Ana whimpered in his arms, something was happening to her, her body was turning liquid, she was catapulted into a mass of sensations and he hadn’t even touched her properly. His words were better than any aphrodisiac, his mouth seductive. She was caught up in sensation and deep attraction, but the future for her did not exist here.

  “Do you know how to kiss?” She whispered in the dark, capturing his wandering hands and kissing the smooth pads of hi
s fingers. “What is that word?” Orocobix asked curiously.

  “It’s this,” Ana brought his head closer to hers and fit her mouth over his; she slowly pushed her tongue across his hard lips and slowly showed him what to do. He learnt pretty quickly, she thought in a daze as their lips locked for what seemed to her a dazzlingly long interval.

  “That’s amazing.” His voice was husky; his hand trembled as he pulled back from her lips and touched her hair, then her eyelids. His hands wandered downward and he cupped her breasts and then snaked down leaving a hot trail of sensation in its wake to the juncture of her thighs.

  Ana moaned in the darkness, her senses were heightened, her breathing frenzied. All the tactile areas of her body were inflamed as he touched her most secret place.

  “Touch me Ana,” his words were garbled against her neck.

  She obeyed him.

  The drums' beat outside their sensual haven, adding to the pulsating beat of their bodies as they became one.

  ******

  The sun was up when Ana opened her eyes, she glanced at Orocobix. His eyes were closed and his long lashes cast shadows against his skin.

  She touched his warm skin and sighed. She could probably have explained everything else to her psychiatrist when she returned to the future, but not last night. All her senses were on alert.

  Last night was real. She looked down at her body. The love burns were real.

  She wanted to use the bathroom, bathe and do something about the ugly body paint that was on her skin.

  Basila made a clear liquid to run the mosquitoes, so she did not need the paint. The paint was a bit too ancient for her; she really did not like dabs of the stuff on her skin.

  If only she had a paper and pen or something else to write with, she glanced at Orocobix again. She would probably write a flowery article on the love practices of the Tainos, she could just envision the topic in flaming black script, 'Tainos how did they make out?'