The Empty Hammock

by Barrett, Brenda

  “No,” Ana said adamantly, “peace will kill you. Why can’t you be aggressive like the Caribs? In the future some of their tribes are still alive, while only a handful of your descendants are still around and only those who joined with the white man to secure their places in society.”

  Orocobix squeezed her hand tightly. “Peace is all we know.”

  “Peace will kill you,” Ana repeated.

  ******

  The next morning, Ana was walking along the golden sandy beach near Maima, the beach was crowded with men building canoes and going out to sea with their strings and hooks. There were children bathing and women plaiting their hair and laughing. The setting was idyllic.

  She sat down beside Guani, or was it Macu? She noticed that he was gathering shells and putting them into separate clay bowls, by color.

  “What are you doing with those?” Ana asked the youngster.

  “I trade these with the inland tribes,” the boy responded, then he looked straight into Ana’s eyes; his big brown eyes bright, “I am Guani.”

  Ana nodded. “Can you read minds? I was just thinking that I couldn’t distinguish you from your brother, I have to remind myself that Macu is the one with the flattened forehead.”

  “I can’t, but I can read your eyes.” He said seriously. “There is restlessness in your eyes. What you spoke last night was the truth. I read that too.”

  Ana stuck her fingers in the sand and stared at the sea. The sun was not too hot and the sea was lazily lapping against the shore; the place looked like an exotic postcard.

  She thought over Guani’s comment. Maybe not everyone was oblivious but still, he was very wise for his age.

  “Why does Macu follow me around?” Ana asked suddenly, she was not sure she wanted to speak of death and mayhem today; she would stick to safe topics like family and customs.

  “He likes you.” Guani picked up a perfect pink shell and placed it in a bowl, “I like you too.” He glanced at her bashfully and then looked out at sea.

  “Thanks, I like both of you too.”

  Their names in English meant Big Eyes and Big Ears. Why would their mother call them that? She looked at Guani’s ears, they were not that big.

  He grinned at her and picked up a coral blue shell from his clay pot. It was delicately hued with darker colors of aqua threaded through its ridges. It was beautiful and appeared as if it was porcelain varnished to a rich finish; it fitted nicely in the palm of her hands.

  Guani took it back from her and bored it carefully with a bone and pushed a clear string in the shell, he then added chunks of gold around the shell and tied off the ends. It was beautiful. He knelt behind Ana and tied it around her neck. It fitted well with the shells and gold from her joining necklace.

  “Wear this for me and Macu.”

  She hugged him and nodded her thanks. Macu joined them shortly after and Ana got up to join Orocobix in the water; she was surrounded by her new friends, Guani and Macu who accepted her unquestionably.

  ******

  Ana was walking up to the chief’s house, her hair was slightly curly. She had spent most of the day on the beach meeting people she should have known; nodding and smiling as if she was familiar with the things they said. It had gotten tiring after a while and she now felt salty and sticky,

  The dark clouds in the sky indicated that there would be rain, so Orocobix hurried her to the house. He held on to her hand tightly but let her go when the Behique fell into step beside them.

  The Behique jutted his chin proudly as he walked with them. His voice was grave when he spoke. “Ana of the line of Basila.”

  Ana glanced at him, “yes.”

  “I need to hold council with you.”

  Ana looked at Orocobix, then at the Behique. “Sure, when?”

  “Before you leave us.” The Behique then abruptly walked away.

  “Is that all apart of the mystique of the medicine men?” Ana asked Orocobix. “Because I’m not impressed,” she mimicked the medicine man, “I need to hold council with you,” and began to laugh.

  “You are irreverent,” Orocobix looked at her reproachfully. “He is the healer of the people. The representative of the gods.”

  “Your gods are foolishness,” Ana stuck out her tongue at him, “and I am sure some of their talking to the medicine man is via drunkenness and tobacco inhalation. If you get drunk enough even the rocks will speak to you.”

  Orocobix stopped her in the middle of the walk and kissed her hard. “I’m not pleased with your talk of the gods as foolishness.”

  “I am not pleased with you stopping,” Ana whispered her knees going weak. “Let us go somewhere private before the rains come.”

  They ended up in the brushes at the side of the road. The soft grass was their bed as they made love. Ana rested her head on Orocobix’s chest; “I have not taken those pomegranate seeds that Basila gave to me. I don’t even know where I put the pouch with it.”

  Orocobix kissed her on the forehead. “You will bear my children. Is that so bad?”

  “No,” Ana shook her head, tormented suddenly. It was getting harder and harder to remember that she did not belong where she was.

  Large, cold raindrops began to pelt their bodies; they had to run to the Chief’s house in the cold deluge. It felt good to be alive and she wanted the world to know. She squealed as they clamored up the hill; love and laughter shining in her eyes; all her talk of not getting involved with the Taino’s was far from her mind now.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Dinner that evening consisted of roasted yam and sweet potatoes with stewed waterfowl and a very hot, pepper pot soup. Ana was sleepy after she ate, and she curled up in the corner of the hut that was her sleeping spot while Orocobix conferred with the servants who had accompanied them to Maima.

  Ana tried to remember the map of Jamaica as it is in 2007. The parishes kept swimming in her head. How much would it differ from the past she wondered?

  The little bit of St. Ann that she saw so far was vastly different. The springs and the minute waterfalls, which seemed in abundance here, were not in the future. Her eyes felt heavy and drowsiness seemed to hold her in a vacuum; pulling her down, tightening a fist across her mind.

  “Ana,” a voice near to her ear said. “Ana, it's getting late, you have to go inside.”

  “I am inside,” Ana mumbled. “Leave me alone,” the steady murmuring of the inside of Oromico’s hut became the whispering of tree leaves rustling in the wind.

  “If I were brave, I would lift her up, but I am not,” Carey said loudly. “I would not want my wife to come back from Miami and find my back broken.”

  Clara chuckled and shook Ana. The girl had slept all day like a log.

  “Carey.” Ana opened her eyes a crack and stared at her brother as his face swam into focus. She was in a hammock, it was slightly swaying.

  “No,” she screamed, holding up her hand. “I don’t want to leave yet. I did not get to say goodbye.”

  Carey sighed and looked at Clara. “Bad dream,” he mouthed.

  Ana sobbed as she thought of Orocobix and the life she had just left behind. “It was not just a dream,” she cried. “I was there, I was there.”

  Clara swung Ana’s hand over her shoulder, and Carey did the same with the other. They carried her sobbing into the house and deposited her unto her bed.

  “I was supposed to be in Maima,” she blubbered. “My husband is there, I did not say goodbye.”

  Clara knelt before her daughter and seriously considered weeping herself. Was this hereditary, this senility that was eating away at her family?

  First her husband, then her daughter.

  “Ana,” Clara tipped up her chin as she read the confusion in her daughter’s eyes. “You are here for a vacation, obviously your nerves are shot. I’m going to fix you a nice cup of peppermint tea with chamomile. That should sooth you.”

  Ana huddled on the bed and trembled, she was not ready for the future. She had gone through days
in her dream and yet only a few hours had passed. Was it the same day that she had arrived at her mother’s house and seen Carey? Who was playing tricks on her? Her dream was so vivid she even remembered what she had for the evening meal; it was pepper pot soup, roasted yam, sweet potato and stew duck or was it waterfowl.

  A sudden wave of longing for Orocobix hit her and she shuddered. Was this how it was going to be? She was five hundred years apart from of her first love. Tears seeped from her eyes into the bed linen. She heard when her mother carried the tea; she felt her brother’s sympathetic touch on her brow. She stared at the wall all night, reluctant to move, fear gripping her insides as she thought of never seeing Maima again.

  She had no idea when she fell asleep.

  ******

  There was a warm body curled beside her. Ana got up and peered into the darkness.

  “Shhh,” Orocobix whispered as he pulled her back down beside him. “You were crying and trembling in your sleep earlier. What’s wrong?”

  Ana let out a big sigh. “Nothing’s wrong.” She snuggled closer to him. “Everything is all right now.”

  He kissed her temple. “You cried out for Carey again.”

  “Carey is my brother,” Ana said drowsily, hugging him tight to her. “I was just so scared that I would never see you again.” She knew her conversation was disjointed but she didn’t care. “I would go crazy.”

  “You will see me forever Ana.” Orocobix whispered. “If I die before you, they will bury you with me.”

  “What! Bury me alive?”

  “Yes, so that we can take the journey to Coyaba together.”

  Ana grimaced, “I don’t think I would want to be buried alive.”

  “There is nothing frightening about death,” Orocobix tucked her head further under his chin, “especially if life is not worth living.”

  “That’s why some of your people would have rather died than lived under Spanish rule. They killed themselves.”

  Long after he had fallen asleep, Ana held unto him desperately. Not even the future seemed worth living in after this.

  She loved him, and did not want to be parted from him ever again. Even being buried in a cave seemed preferable than life without him. She tried to gain some perspective as her mind went haywire. She was an intelligent thinker of the twenty first century and here she was clinging to what would be known as a primitive man, refusing to let him go. Refusing to accept that the future would happen exactly as it should.

  There must be something she could do.

  The niggling thought that there were no Tainos in twenty-first century Jamaica sent shivers up her spine. She would lose Orocobix and her new friends and even her family. She thought of Basila and even the jealous Tanama; vibrant people who loved and lived and were happy would be snuffed out. But if the past were changed even marginally, what would she go back to in the future? Would there be a Carey or Clara?

  She had to choose: the past or the future.

  A little voice at the back of her head mocked her silently, “It’s not your decision. This is just a dream.”

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Ana was disoriented and groggy when she woke up the next day. She went to bathe with the women of the cacique’s house at one of the streams.

  Yuisa had made a sweet smelling soap from animal fat, the day before; to this she had added jasmine blossoms. It shocked Ana that the round crude looking soap bar smelled so good. She was learning more about the versatility of the Tainos everyday.

  The women of the chief’s house included his wives, unmarried daughters and his sisters.

  Yuisa led the group down to the stream. She was obviously happy. She smiled at Ana, “I have always wanted to make jasmine scented soap. Oromico loves the scent and I have tried and tried to get it into the soaps and now I have!

  She held up the big chunk of soap and pressed it into Ana’s hand. “Smell it.”

  Ana inhaled the soap and smiled, it was indeed sweet smelling.

  “I will make some for you to take to Bieke.”

  “Thank you, Yuisa.” Ana was feeling a little emotional since waking up in the past beside Orocobix, every gesture brought tears to her eyes. The unfeigned kindness of Yuisa made her feel like crying rivers at the feet of the unsuspecting woman.

  They headed down to the crystal clear stream. Smooth stones could be seen at the bottom of the gently moving water. It was cold to the touch and Ana yelped when she put her finger into its depths.

  Yuisa broke off pieces of the soap and the women took theirs with glee. They jumped and splashed in the stream, rubbing themselves with their chunk of the bar.

  “Yuisa you are the only wife who doesn’t have a child,” Ana said, while Yuisa splashed beside her.

  Yuisa raised her hand above her head and her ample breasts jiggled. “I made peace with that Ana, I am sure Basila told you what happened,” there was a hurt expression on her face and Ana felt like a heel. How could she know what happened? She wasn’t the one that Basila told.

  “I am sorry.” Ana said softly, “I seem not to remember some things.”

  Yuisa sighed and sat in the middle of the stream, the rushing waters bubbled around her middle as she hung her head for the water to run through her hair.

  “I was captured by the Caribs when they came to Maima many moons ago.”

  Ana gasped. “But you are here now.”

  “Oromico’s father was the chief then. They carried away most of Oromico’s sisters and they got me too.” Yuisa gestured for Ana to come closer and Ana splashed in the water and sat on a stone near her. “You are the only one I am going to tell this to Ana.”

  Ana nodded solemnly.

  “The chief of the Caribs, on the land we call Cubanakan, was Barshka. He looked frightening when he carted us away but when we left the shores of Yamaye, they put away their warrior costumes. When they washed away the warrior paint they looked like ordinary men,” said Yuisa. “Barshka was handsome. He claimed me for himself. I was promised to be joined with Oromico and I knew that he loved me; so I felt guilty when I developed feelings for the fierce enemy. I did not want to be returned to Maima, Ana. I pretended that I did for the sake of the others who were captured. They killed the men by pushing them out at sea after cutting them and then took the women that they fancied. I struggled to look tearful for Oromico’s sister’s sake, but I loved what Barshka did to me.”

  Ana was bowled over by the story and she could only nod as she stared at the gentle features of Yuisa.

  “We stopped in Bohio, for another raid,” Yuisa licked her lips, “Guacanagari and his men, rescued me from the Caribs. They killed Barshka and I had to pretend that I was happy,” her eyes clouded over. “The medicine man in Bohio gave me a mixture to prevent me from having a child. I never recovered from that. Oromico came to claim me shortly after; I was the only one that was rescued. The Caribs escaped with the others.”

  “Wow, what a story.”

  “I found my true love amongst the Caribs but I am happy now with Oromico, his other wives are good women and they give him the children he loves so much. I sometimes wonder how the others feared out. What I realized from that experience is that the Caribs are ordinary men who love war.”

  “Do you think,” Ana asked thoughtfully, “that there are any pure blooded Caribs, since they captured the Taino women so much? There must be some of your peaceful nature in their bones.”

  “They are men,” Yuisa answered carefully, “like our men. They do what they grew up knowing.”

  Agita came to join them then and they had to stop discussing the Caribs.

  ******

  Oromico, Orocobix, the Behique and ten elders were in the council hall. It was a hut with many stools that the elders used for meetings; it was in close proximity to the Chief’s family house.

  Ana could smell the tobacco smoke before she reached the brow of the hill. They believed in the spiritual powers of the tobacco and it was an essential part of their dances and their meetings�
�one day she would give a lecture about the effects of tobacco on their health. It was amazing, how the Spaniards came to the Caribbean and adopted the bad habit from the Arawaks.

  The effect of smoking was known in modern times as a major killer, but could it be that the adaptation of this one vice was payback for the thousands of Arawaks that died by the hands of the explorers?—the Arawaks were enslaved but they introduced their masters to another form of slavery. She shook her head at the fanciful thoughts.

  The Behique appeared at the door of the meetinghouse as Ana climbed the hill. He gestured for her to come to him. She headed toward the old man slowly, his expression was stern and he held himself straight. Probably she was going to be reprimanded for interrupting the sacred naming ceremony.

  She felt herself getting unaccountably nervous. She was going to face the Cacique and his men officially. Then she shook herself. She had chaired staff meetings before and made presentations to leading men in Jamaica’s corporate world, why was she nervous about standing before naked men who were long dead?

  The Behique stepped aside as she entered the dim interior of the meetinghouse. He went to sit down at his place in the circle, he indicated a stool near the center that was empty and she sat down hard, underestimating the height of the stool, her buttocks screamed in pain. She silently winced and glanced at Orocobix who had a half smile on his face.

  “We have been discussing your revelations,” Oromico said quietly.

  The elders nodded. “Your husband made a good case for you Ana.”

  Ana stared at them bemusedly, through the smoky air she could see their expressions, one elder who seemed to be the oldest was regarding her with paternal pride.

  “You were always a dreamer, my father used to listen to you keenly, as will I now.” Oromico looked at her and grimaced, “I do not like this vision.”