We took a short break, sitting on rocks in the creek rather than on the dark overgrown banksides. Choc handed out a’kl and we sat quietly smoking. We kept one light going and as I looked at my men I realized how miserable they looked, we looked. We were sweaty, dirty, bleeding, itchy, but no one grumbled. We just sat there with our own thoughts, or no thoughts, trying to enjoy our a’kl … or cho-otz as Teul would call it.
Peeniwali abounded in the silence. The almost silent flowing of the water and the occasional soft splash from one of the bigger fishes added to the serenity surrounding us. There were the cautious sounds of crawling insects as they came out of their dead leaf covers and the haunting and eerie call of the icim, gwow-gwow-gwow-gwow-gwow-gwot. Sometimes we heard the chirp and soft huff of the ajwoyotz’ as it searched for food. The jungle at night was a beautiful place, but it was also a dangerous place if you did not know what you were doing. Even Katy did not fly at night, but remained hunkered down in her nest with her soul mate.
We filled our water bottles and started climbing the next mountain. Choc kept Choco and Teul at the front and Rhys remained at the rear. Fortunately, the canopy was thicker and the undergrowth less dense so we were able to move at a good pace even in the dark. We were about half way up the mountain when Taat told me to call a halt.
“Come in, men,” I ordered, somewhat quietly, having the command go up and down the file.
“Come with me, Choc,’ said Taat. Teul gave Choc his headlight and Choc and Taat disappeared into the jungle, Taat not telling me what was happening.
“Rest easy, men,” I directed and we all sat in a circle on the jungle floor, our rifles cradled in our arms, our machetes by our sides. “Just don’t sit on an ant nest,” I said, trying to lighten the uneasiness we were enveloped in. There was no reply.
Rhys pulled some dead leaves and brambles in the center and started a small fire then got us some a’kl. Even in the night, the air was hot and humid, unusually humid for the dry season especially since it had not rained. Rhys and Robertson sat, drinking from their water bottles, but Teul and Choco were not resting. Their eyes were taking in every aspect of the jungle that surrounded us.
Wah-co!-Wah-co!-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha.
“Why does that madafoka bird keep following us,” muttered Choco, angrily.
“How do you know it’s the same bird?” asked Robertson.
“It’s the same madafok bird,” insisted Teul, looking at me. “Isn’t that right, Sarge.”
“Yes, Teul. It’s the same madafok bird,” I answered.
“Well,” continued Robertson. “That’s strange. Why would the same bird be following us?” He looked at me.
“Madafok bird, Medic,” urged Teul.
“Madafok bird,” complied Robertson.
I could barely see Robertson as the small fire was not giving out much light. I took a deep pull from my a’kl, wondering how to answer Robertson. I had to be honest. I owed that to him. Teul, Choco, and Rhys were all looking down, quietly smoking, as if saying that they had that figured out already. I couldn’t lie.
“The bird …”
“Madafok bird, Sarge,” insisted Teul.
“The madafok bird …”
“That’s it, Sarge.”
The madafok bird is letting Sisimito’s Kechelaj Komon and Kechelaj Jupuq know where we are,” I answered.
“That’s hard to believe.”
“Even after Santa Cruz, Robertson?” I asked in a tired voice. He rubbed his forehead, still holding unto his a’kl.
“What do you think I was telling you and the men by the fire two nights ago? Did you think it was just a wild story?” I had to maintain a cool or all my pent-up anger was going to be unleashed on Robertson and that wouldn’t be fair. He had the right to question anything.
“Sorry, Sarge.” He blew out a smoke ring. “I have been in your country for many years. It’s very different from where I came from. Yet, I actually like it. I love the sea, the jungle, the people. This mission, whatever happens, is the most amazing experience in my life. But it is strange, very strange. I am to believe things I know nothing about, things I would have regarded as crazy talk before. It’s not that we British don’t have our own folklore mythology. We have Herne the Hunter, Freybug, the Pixies, many more and some too are vicious, but no one believes in them anymore. I’m still trying to rationalize what I’ve seen. I’m still trying to believe what I’ve experienced and what I’m told I’m about to experience. It’s hard.”
“You have no time to rationalize, Robertson. You have to believe everything we tell you. You have to believe everything you see, you hear, you smell, you touch, you feel.”
“Always use the five senses, Medic,” said Choco, nodding, his eyes closed, then smiling as if remembering … something.
I glared at him, but his eyes remained closed. I was being serious. “You are an important member of this section. We have to be as one. Think as one. Act as one. Ixca junes maka ka metzev, that is We are never stronger than when we are one.264 If we don’t, Robertson, we won’t pull off the mission and we won’t make it out of here. If you can’t or won’t believe, you should never have come.” I looked at him as he stared at me, then I drew in a deep breath, blew it out, and smiled. “Don’t you want to sit by your English fire hearth with your cup of tea and tell your grandchildren about the time you went into the jungle with Eutimio Chiac? Don’t you want to tell them about Taat, Choco, Choc, Rhys, and Teul and his grin? We have to be as one. We have to survive.”
He raised his forehead, took in a big draw of a’kl then blew out multiple rings. “As long as I am alive, I will never forget any of you and I will never forget this amazing journey.”
“Well, Medic,” said Teul, grinning. “We want you to remember us for a madafok long time so regardless what the madafok happens, you won’t madafok die,” vowed Teul. “We just won’t let that madafok happen to you.” Teul looked quite pleased with his eloquence. “And I would recommend stout rather than tea.”
“Madafok,” murmured Robertson, softly.
“Now you have it, Medic. You finally have it. Everything is madafok. One thing though, that’s my cuss word, Medic. Find your own,” chided Teul.
Robertson face was becoming filled with emotion and if it weren’t for Taat and Choc’s headlight coming through the bushes, I honestly felt that Robertson’s feelings would have overtaken him.
“They had slowed down earlier, but have picked up speed again,” informed Choc, a disturbed look on his face. “The batz tracts have increased. They are all over the place between those of the kitam and hach-k’ek’en. There is also a pair of human foot prints, and four hoof prints of a very large hach-k’ek’en. They’re not hiding their tracts anymore.”
“Hach-k’ek’en Ajchaq’e and Kitam Ajchaq’e,” I said. Robertson looked disturbed. “Any other prints?” I asked, hopeful that Molly’s would be there.
“No, Paal,” Taat answered.
I looked to Robertson. “Hach-k’ek’en Ajchaq’e is the leader and protector of the pack of hach-k’ek’ens … waaries. He is also called the Waari Massa. He is large, white, and has a human face. Kitam Ajchaq’e is an old man with beady eyes and a long white beard, dressed in tattered clothes. He protects the kitams and is also known as El Dueno de Los Kekeos. Kekeo is just another name for kitam or pikayri. They were at Santa Cruz. Perhaps you recall seeing them.”
“And the Howlers?” asked Robertson.
“The batz I have met in Sisimito’s jungle are very dangerous as they’re under his enchantment and command. All the animals that are a threat to us are.” I drew in another deep breath of a’kl. “It’s soon going to happen, Robertson. Men! It’s about to fokin happen.”
“Do you know exactly what will happen?”
“I certainly don’t, Medic, but I believe that we will soon begin a most ‘amazing’, as you said, and very dangerous journey.”
“Well, I’m madafok ready,” growled Teul.
“All this walking around the madafok bush isn’t good for me anyway. Time for action!”
I looked at him and smiled, remembering how he looked as he came back from the river bank earlier that day. I shook myself. “How far away are they, Choc?”
“About an hour. Their shit is very moist and fresh and their piss has hardly dried, some still on the dead leaves.”
“Do you think they will stop in the night?” I asked. Choc looked to Taat.
“No. Their recent prints suggest that they are moving pretty fast. They may have stopped earlier,” answered Taat.
“We keep going, but we proceed cautiously,” I instructed. “We’re not dealing with the enemy we were trained for.”
“And there are other enemies in the Kechelaj Komon,” added Choco, brooding.
“Yes, there are others. Let’s finish our a’kl, drink and replenish our water, and get going. What time is it Rhys?”
“2200 hours.”
Wah-co!-Wah-co!-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha came from the jungle, followed by the distant roars of the batz, and koal seed covered all our skins.
“Ko’one’ex.” I ordered.
Teul and Choco were macheting together like dancers on a stage and we were progressing remarkably well. If they drifted a little off, Rhys would shout a correction. Finally, at 0130 hours, we were at the summit and I could not believe our luck. The summit was actually a large stony outcrop with just a few trees and clumps of grass. I ran to a large boulder and stood on it.
“Look, Men,” I shouted. “Couldn’t ask for a better camp.” I turned around to face them. They were all standing, looking upwards, as if enthralled. I joined their gaze.
“A shooting star,” exclaimed Robertson.
“U-k’is-ch’imil,” I translated. Because there was no moon, the stars were brilliant in the sky casting a glow to the bleached rocks of the summit. “Come in, Men,” I said, and they slowly walked to where I stood. “I know you’re tired, but perhaps we’ll never have another opportunity like this again. I want to share something with you. Let’s take our minds off this mission for a short while. remove your bergens, sit or lie back, then look up once again to the night sky. Robertson and Rhys, this is for you too.” The men looked hesitant, but followed my orders.
Teul sat grumbling, “All I want to do is madafok sleep.”
“Bear with me,” I said, getting very emotional. “Mountains were very important to our people. Perhaps it was because of nights like this one. They just had to look up and they were in the heavens. Look up, all of you. Almost directly overhead is the Mam Kutach,”265 I continued, “and north of it is the Little Dipper with T’uyul.266 We can use T’uyul for direction. Virgo, Molly’s sign, is to the south. Our people called Virgo, the Kitam. My sign, Aquarius, is not seen at this time of year. I don’t know your birthdays, but Aries is a quetzal, Libra a shark, Taurus an owl, Gemini a turtle …”
“That’s me,” said Choco.
“A madafok slow ass turtle,” jeered Teul.
“Sagittarius a rattlesnake,” I continued.
“That’s me,” said Teul.
“A madafoka rattlesnake,” retorted Choco.
“Yeah. Right between my legs, big and ready.” boasted Teul.
I ignored them. “Capricorn a jaguar …”
“That’s me,” declared Rhys. So, I’m a great baläm.”
“Cancer a dog, Pisces a bat, Scorpios a scorpion as it is still called today. You can see Choco’s Gemini just west of directly overhead. Also to the west are the Pleiades or Seven Little Sisters, and Orion the Hunter. The Tzolk’in, the Sacred Calendar of our people, is based on the cycles of Pleiades. That group of stars is called Tzab-ek, in our people’s language. It means the rattlesnake’s tail. Besides being very important to our calendar, the rise
of Tzab-ek in the night sky occurs at the same time that the rains come for the crops to grow in our kools.”
“See! Even the stars show that I’m madafok important,” interrupted Teul, nodding his head several times.
“Orion is just south of Tzab-ek and is named Áak-‘ek’ meaning Turtle Star. It is also very important to our people. We use the three stars in the constellation that form a triangle called Oxib X’kub’, translated as the ‘Three Stones of the Hearth’. Directly in the center, you can see the flame of the hearth. As we know and as we should never forget, the hearth is the foundation of the Maya home, our home.”
“Wasn’t the Milky Way also important?” asked Robertson, so quietly that he was barely heard above the chirp-chirp of the xirs.
“The Milky Way was venerated by our people. It is called Wakah Chan, the World Tree and is represented by the Sacred Ceiba tree, the Yaxché.” I was beginning to become more emotional, also feeling the emotions beginning to build within my Maya brothers. “Our people were once a great people, our nation the greatest of nations. There is no reason why our people cannot be great again in today’s world; but to be great we have to know, and in order to know, we have to learn. We must know the past so that we know who we are in the present, but we must not live in that past. We must know the present so that we can build for the future, but we must not live in the future. We are still a great people.” The xirs had stopped their chirp-chirp, my men were silent, the jungle was quiet, and as I looked up at the night sky, I heard the ancient music of my people as the cosmos moved.
I looked at Taat and he was staring at me with ardor, something I had not seen on his face before. “I’ll get a fire going,” he said. The moment we had was lost, but then we couldn’t have remained in that moment for very long anyway.
“I’ll help with the wood,” offered Robertson, taking the headlight from Teul.
“What’s your sign, Medic,” asked Teul, handing over the headlight.
Robertson hesitated then said, “Taurus.”
“Taurus?” I queried. “We are in Taurus now.”
“Well, today is actually my birthday.” For some odd reason, not one of us said anything. We just looked at him.
Then Taat spoke. “Happy Birthday, Medic. We can’t have a big feast now, but when we get back to Santa Cruz we’ll have the biggest feast you’ve ever seen. You’ll be able to tell your grandchildren about that.”
“Thanks, Taat. We’ll have music …”
“Harp and marimba,” interrupted Teul. “No ska. No rocksteady. No reggae. And definitely no waltz, polka, and dehndeh267 madafok. Harp and marimba.”
Certainly, Teul,” agreed Robertson, laughing.
“What’s this about harp and marimba,” complained Choco, good-heartedly.
“Just me,” Teul answered, emphatically. He stretched. “Oh, my madafok arms. I don’t think they’ll ever move again. I wasn’t made for macheting,” he grumbled.
“Sorry for you, Teul” chuckled Choco. “No whack-off tonight then?”
“Whack-off? The whole of me is so madafok tired I don’t even think I’d be able to raise a tutuchci for the prettiest woman in the whole world … Well, maybe that’s not exactly true.”
“Okay, Men. Relax,” I said. “Organize those bergens. Drink some water. Get into your boxers and flip-flops. Get your combats and boots dry. Rhys will soon have some food ready. Have a’kl while you wait. Enjoy the scenery. It’s unlikely you’ll see anything like this again.”
“I’m too fokmi tired to relax or move” said Choc.
“Same madafoka here,” concurred Choco.
My men were totally exhausted, as was I. I wondered if I had pushed us too hard, but I did have to find a good place to camp, a place where we could defend ourselves, and the summit was definitely worth any exhaustion reaching it had caused. If we were attacked later in the night, I could only hope that my men would be able to leave their exhaustion and become the efficient soldiers they were. I believed they would. I decided not to dwell on that any more, noting that Taat had said that the kitam and hach-k’ek’en packs had picked up their pace, were moving faster, so they should be much
further north than we were. Also, since we were on top of the outcrop and the night was clear, filled with starlight, we would be able to see something or someone approaching from any direction.
Except for Taat and Robertson, the men were still sitting. “Are you pussies?” I shouted. “Let’s get organized.”
“Sarge!” they shouted, loudly, but without much enthusiasm.
I finally got them to place all their bergens together and lean their rifles and machetes as per our protocol. We undressed, laying our uniforms and boots on rocks to dry for the next day. Taat and Robertson had gotten a small fire going and after getting our ground sheet, flip-flops, and boxers out of our packs, the men retrieved their arms and we sat around the fire, smoking a’kl, waiting for Rhys to decide what he was going to feed us. He had already informed us that because of the uncertainty of what lay ahead, it would be a small but sufficient snack. We could have a drink, but all we had was the water in our canteens.
We were mostly quiet, tired, sitting under the observant eyes of Taat. Finally, Rhys stood before us.
“Chocolate, cheese spread and crackers, apple cider mix, fruit bars,” announced Rhys, passing out the rations.
“When will I get some real food?” asked Teul. “I’m sure I’m losing weight on this army madafok.”
“I miss my corned beef, noodles, and tambran Tang,” lamented Choco. “What would I give for some Jungle Chow Mein.”
“I miss my harp and marimba,” followed Teul.”
“Well, fokmi! What does harp and marimba have to do with grub?” questioned an apparently perplexed Choc.
“I just said I missed harp and marimba. It has nothing to do with grub,” retorted Teul.
“Mopan,” grunted Choco. Teul glared at him and was opening his mouth to answer back when Choco burst out laughing. “Oh, my friend, Teul,” he continued. “You know I love you.” He looked at Teul and roared with laughter once again.
Sisimito II--Xibalba Page 22