The shivering began to decrease and my muscles became increasingly ridged, with erratic and jerky movements. I was going to die. The oil will protect you when you face the cold. Yes, I was going to die, but I was not going to allow myself to die like an ineffective piece of shit with a questionable ability to survive. I was going to die like the confident and well-trained Warrior I was. Kish’s words came back to me again, The oil will protect you when you face the cold, but I ignored them. I had done all the countering I could do and the enemy was just mopping up. The oil will protect you when you face the cold. I shook my head. Why was I remembering what Kish had told me? I was fokin dying, already dead. The oil had not fokin helped me. The oil will protect you when you face the cold. Then why did he repeat that twice, just before closing the door. “The oil will protect you when you face the cold,” I whispered. Why did he stress face the cold? I have been facing the fokin cold. Have, HaveI? I have always held my to’bal-rib above and in front of me. Have I faced the cold? In my severely deteriorated condition I stood as firmly as I could, moved my to’bal-rib to my side and faced the cold. Even if I were wrong, I would die standing, facing my insidious enemy as the T’oit’ik-jolom would. I could barely move my frozen hand as I reached up and held Bas’ Green Scapular. His last words on the summit of the mountain, where he lay dying, came back to me, “Take my Green Scapular and wear it. It will always protect you.” I prayed to Ix Na Li Kawa. It is I, Eutimio Chiac. I once more need Your help. Please come to me like You did in the cavern beneath the Hidden Valley Falls. I waited, but nothing changed.
The wind screamed at me, as if angered, marble sized hail stormed me, and cold freezing rain cascaded over me, trying to get me to move my to’bal-rib, to protect myself again. The wind continued screaming at me, shrieking at me, over and over again. “Cover yourself with your to’bal-rib,” it seemed to say. But I didn’t even though I knew that the last stages of hypothermia were setting in at an increased rate as freezing rain had been added to my enemy’s arsenal. My to’bal-rib stayed to my side, I held Bas’ Green Scapular, I couldn’t have opened my hand if I wished, and I did what Kish had told me: face the cold. My skin turned blue like the color that surrounded me. My breathing and heart rate slowed down. “Ke’eleen!” I cried out to the wind. “I’m cold!’ Then I saw Molly looking at me, smiling as she had done as she walked up the wedding path towards me at Uch Ben Cah. I tried to smile back, but my face muscles were rigid. I wanted to say Good-bye, but I couldn’t. Then there was Bas, talking with me on the summit of the mountain. Even Teul was there, grinning. I wondered why he was there and why the fok he was grinning. I was pretty much fokin dead. Yet, he stayed with me and he kept on grinning.
I continued facing my enemy, almost unaware of the agony I was in, peace beginning to come over me. Then the cries in the wind increased again, and pains in my muscles made me cry out. Warmth was enveloping my body and Teul was slowly disappearing. I looked down and as the rain poured on my body, the oil began to change. It was becoming more solid, looking like plastic, looking like cement, and as it did that, heat was being produced. The chemical odor I had first smelled when I opened the jar was all around me. Whatever reaction was to occur between the gel and the rain had begun and the warmth from that reaction brought me warmth. By moving the to’bal-rib away from me, the water that rained on my body interacted with the gel and was forming a protective sheath. I raised my to’bal-rib above me to protect my head from the hail, left my body exposed, and began to take short struggling steps forward along the path. The pains in my muscles were severe, with sharp points piercing me, and every step made me cry out. The hail was again increasing in size, but other than beating mercilessly down on me they were not penetrating the sheath that covered me. And I could breathe and move for the thin layer of plastic looking cement that covered my chest and joints was not constricting, having developed cracks as I inhaled and moved.
I labored forward, each step filled with excruciating pain. As the large hail hit the path, they splintered into sharp and jagged pieces of ice. I felt them cut into my soles. I did not stop. I could not stop. Even with the protective sheath I wore, I knew I was still in trouble for I remained cold. I had to keep moving, try to make every muscle in my body active.
I reached the top of the pathway and turned. The small platform by the door seemed far away. I immediately took the other pathway on which I was to return to the door, kept my to’bal-rib above me as I tried to protect my body. The wind had changed direction and was once again buffeting me face on and the reaction in the sheath was beginning to wane for the warmth was getting less. I tried to walk faster, but the wind howled harder. Large hail began coming down at an angle, hitting my body and feet. I had to use the to’bal-rib more. I started walking in a crouched position, swinging the to’bal-rib above my head as quickly as I could. That position protected most of my body, but it was difficult to advance. The hail continued with tremendous force and noise, no lessoning of its intensity, and the frigid cold once again began to seep into my body. I crouched even lower and I felt my eyes swelling with tears that just kept flowing and flowing. My tears were warm and, to my surprise, did not turn to ice even in the torrid cold. That suggested to me that my sheath was still producing some warmth and so I was able to urge myself onwards, withstanding the cold wind, withstanding the freezing rain, withstanding the incessant hail that bombarded my to’bal-rib and any part of my body that became exposed even for a second. At times, the hail was so large I felt its force crushing me to the ground and I was barely able to remain upright.
Yet, I continued and I was soon climbing the stairs to the platform. I took tread by tread, so exhausted that each seemed to be the last I would make. I wasn’t able to control my to’bal-rib as I climbed and was beaten by the cold wind, the rain, and the hail as they tried to hurl me down to the bottom of the stair. Then I was on the platform and I sat, the sheath protecting my skin from the frozen floor. I covered my body with my to’bal-rib and placed my hands under my armpits, trying to get them warm, trying to get rid of the rigidity, so that I could hold the jar and use the remaining oil where I had become exposed. I was finally able to reach for the jar and applied it the best I could to the areas I thought needed it, each touch of my fingers making me cry out in pain. And I was as cold as the wind, the rain, and the hail were cold, and they were mercilessly pelting the platform and the lone soldier that lay there.
I knew that I had to keep active, but it was becoming more and more difficult. My to’bal-rib was acting as a small shelter, small as it should be, giving me a vague sense of well-being. Unfortunately, it had no sides. Then the to’bal-rib began to soften and I felt myself being enveloped in its fiber. I held Bas’ Green Scapular, curdled up into the smallest ball I could, accepted my to’bal-rib as a shroud and fell into a cold, exhausted, and painful sleep.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
BAT HOUSE: SOTZ’ JA
THIRD TRIAL HOUSE - FOURTH TRIAL
K’iin 3 - The Uinal of Yaxk’in’
Wednesday, May 2, 1973
Waach! Are you ready to leave Ke’el Ja, the House of Trials that carries the glyphs of the white god Can-Tzicnal of the North?”
Silence.
“Waach! Are you ready to leave Ke’el Ja, the House of Trials that carries the glyphs of the white god Can-Tzicnal of the North?
I didn’t know if I were dreaming what I wanted to hear. As far as I was concerned, I was dead. Then through the frozen haze that enveloped me came the voice again.
“Waach! Are you ready to leave Ke’el Ja, the House of Trials that carries the glyphs of the white god Can-Tzicnal of the North?”
I could not answer. Then there was another voice, an urgent and demanding one.
“What the madafok are you going to do, Kish? Dead or alive I want him out of there. Open the madafok door.”
“I am not to open the door until he answers.”
“And if he’s alive and just too weak to answer? Will you le
ave him to die? I never thought you were on our side.” There was no more talk then I heard the door being opened.
“There he is.” I felt warm arms holding me.
“He’s still breathing, but shallow. Madafok! He’s, He’sso blue. He’s frozen.” There was panic in the voice. “Come on, my brother. Hold on. Don’t do this to me. Don’t madafok die on me.”
I barely felt myself being carried as I was in and out of consciousness, disorientated, confused, numb, cold, stiff. “Let’s get him to the room.” I felt the warm arms around me again and I knew that Kish and Teul were running. Then I was unaware of everything until I felt myself being put down.
I heard a female voice. Take off his weapons. Wrap him up in a mat. Teul. Get under the mat with him. Hug him up. Warm him with your body. Now!”
I felt someone hugging me and wrapping himself around me.
“Madafok! He’s ice.”
The female voice came again. “Get warm oils. We need to warm him. I’ll rub him down.”
“Revive him quickly. He has to present himself to the Lords of Xibalba. The Chamber is already filling.”
“Madafok to the Lords of Xibalba. He’s so cold, but he’s shivering. He wasn’t before. I feel like I am beginning to freeze. Come on, Chiac. Hold on Chiac.” There was a pause. “Do you want me to move?”
“No! Stay with him. We’ll move the mat area by area, and rub that portion.”
Some time passed, I’m not sure how much. “He’s still cold. Too cold. Maybe if we put him in warm water.”
Fuller. I remembered Fuller. I had to talk. I couldn’t let them do that. I tried to talk, but could scarcely move my mouth, my lips seemed frozen together. I wanted to raise my arm and begin rubbing my mouth hoping that the friction would allowed my lips to move apart. I couldn’t. They were too tight with pain. Too tight with cold. I felt myself become agitated, and my shivering getting worse.
“His breathing is still shallow and his pulse is weak. We’re just warming the outside of his body. He was too long in Ke’el Ja.”
“Get the warm water. We have to soak him.”
I had to speak. In my clouded mind, I concentrated. I had to speak. I heard a low growl come out of my mouth.”
“He’s trying to say something.”
I made another growl.
“He wants to say something.”
“Breathe into his mouth. Now.”
I felt a mouth covering mine and the warmth of its breath over and over. Slowly, I was able to move my tongue and I began trying to whisper.
“Take your time. Tell me what you want. Whisper.”
I felt an ear against my mouth as I began, hoping that my words would be clear enough for him to understand, and not just unintelligible mutterings. “Fuller said no bath. Too sudden. Warm water enema,” I murmured.
“What?”
“No bath. Too sudden. Warm water enema.”
“Madafok! No bath. It will kill him. Warm water enema.”
“What’s that?”
“We need a jar. A jar with a narrow mouth, very narrow. Madafok! What am I doing? Good! Fill it with warm water. Not too hot. And give me some oil.”
I started to shiver violently again and all was black then I heard voices once more.
“He’s warming up. His breathing is better and his pulse is stronger.”
“Maybe we should stop the enemas now.”
I cried out. Every muscle of my body was in intense pain. I felt hands holding me as I flung myself around in confusion.
“It’s okay, Chiac. It’s me, Teul. You’re going to be okay. You’re going to be okay. The pain will go away. Soon.”
I opened my eyes, but everything around me looked unfocused. He still had his body wrapped around mine, the mat covering us soaked, but warm.
I could recognize Kish’s voice. “We have to get him to the Chamber. He’s already two k’abs late. The Lords will be angry. He will fail the trial.”
“He is just able to speak a little. You need to wait,” argued Teul. “He’s still weak. I don’t think he can walk, or even sit up.”
I tried to get up, but my limbs wouldn’t move. I tried to talk, but my words were whispered. I forced myself onto my knees, with Teul’s help, and tried to move my arms. They barely moved. My feet did not move at all. But I began to feel warmth return to my body, my blood, and I was able to move my jaws and my tongue. “I looked up to Kish and mumbled, “Please help me, Kish.”
“I can only do so much, or you will fail the trial. Your body will soon be warm. You are T’oit’ik-jolom. Use your muscles as you would after a full day of training.” He paused then continued. “We’ll carry him to the Chamber. Quick! Put on a loincloth and his weapons. He cannot present himself as a slave.”
“I am going too,” mouthed Teul.
“You will not. You are still regarded as a prisoner.”
“Madafok! I could hear the anger in Teul’s voice. “As a matter of fact, madafok to all of you.” I saw him storm off and throw himself against the wall, sliding down.
“Don’t worry, Teul. I will take care of him,” responded Kish, in an almost apologetic voice. “I believe, one day, he will be my friend.”
Kish and the guard from the door lifted me up and I cried out in pain. Every movement was torture as if my muscles had been crushed. “The pot. The pot,” I cried out. They placed me on the pot and tepid water
poured out of me in spurts. When no more gushed out, one of the women wiped me and hurriedly put on my loincloth. I was then carried, my arms around Kish’s and the guard’s shoulders, quickly through the door and up the stairs to the Council Chamber.
I struggled to open my eyes, barely hearing Kish’s voice as he spoke to the guard. I had to try. I began to exercise. I moved my head and neck, tightened my abdomen, and instead of having my feet dragging along the floor, I tried to make steps.
As we reached the side door through which we were to enter the Council Chamber I was able to stand, even if but weakly. I looked at my body. It was bruised, black and blue all over, not from cold, but from the merciless onslaught I had received from the hail. I looked to Kish who was facing me.
“You will stand before the Lords of Xibalba as a true Warrior. Be strong, Waach. You cannot show fear or weakness in the Council Place of the Lords. Are you ready, Waach?”
I took in deep breaths of the warm air that surrounded me and, even though I was no longer faced with the cold of the Ke’el Ja, I held onto Fuller’s words, “Having survival skills is important, but having the will to survive is essential.” I breathed in deeply, moved every muscle in my body, and ignored all the intense pains. Soon, I was feeling much stronger and was able to stand upright with only slight dizziness. “I am ready, Kish.”
Kish, as he had done before, remained absolutely quiet during the remaining short walk to the pedestals. I still struggled, still felt faint at times, still felt pain with every movement of my muscles. The morning Xibalba sky was the same bright red glow it was the day before, shinning down on the pedestals as we stood in the Chamber. There was absolute quiet as I faced the Death Gods and the Demon Lords of Xibalba even though the Chamber was again filled with spectators. There was no confusion and anger on their faces; there was just disbelief.
The Ahau Can Mai came through the elaborate arched doorway to my right, walking hurriedly, terror on his face. Standing in front of the Death Gods and the Demon Lords he bowed with deep reverence saying, “My Lords. Waach has won his third trial in the Council Place of the Lords. Waach spent the night in the Ke’el Ja, took the pathways, and survived the cold storms and falling hail. Although late, he now stands before you, Great Death Gods and Demon Lords of Xibalba.”
Vucub-Came stood. There was no smile and his eyes blazed furiously. “So, Waach, even though you’re late, you have won the third trial.”
“I have, My Lord.” It took me all my inner strength to sound firm.
He nodded his head.
“Are you just a waach or are you one specially blessed by the gods?”
“I am just a waach, my Lord. I have no special blessings.”
“Yet, you have won three trials here in the Council Place of the Lords, and you were able to successfully travel the sacbeob to the gates of Xibalba. Is there some treachery in Xibalba that collaborates with you in your trials here in this chamber, aided you on the sacbeob?
Even in my semi-disoriented state, I immediately became alert. I had to take away any thought of assistance. “There is no treachery here, My Lord. As I said before, I win because I have the wit, cunning, trickery, and strength of Hunahpu and Xbalanque.”
The Council Chamber erupted into commotion and Hun-Came lifted his hand, silencing the crowd. He looked towards Vucub-Came.
“So, you have their wit, but not their blessings.”
“No blessings, My Lord.”
“We’ll see.” Vucub-Came paused then continued. “Are you ready for your fourth trial, Waach?”
“I am, My Lord.”
“Tonight, you will enter a third House of Trials, Sotz’ Ja, the house of the yellow god Hozanek of the South.”
“My Lord,” I answered, and nodded. He made to sit. “My Lord.”
He looked at me. “What is it again, Waach?”
“My Warrior, My Lord?”
“He awaits you below.”
I nodded. “Thank you, My Lord.”
I waited with impatience and dizziness while the procession of the Lords moved out the Chamber. It was not only that I wanted to see which of my men had been returned to me, but I felt that my legs were soon going to give out. Falling would be a sign of weakness and Kish had warned me that I couldn’t allow that to happen in the Council Chamber. But I was becoming even more woozy and my eyes were clouding over. I fought the feeling. Once the procession had disappeared through the arched doorway, the Xibalbans started leaving to place their bets and Kish said, “Let’s go.” I tried to move, but couldn’t. Every muscle was frozen with pain and I was rapidly becoming unsteady. I felt Kish picking me up and carrying me then my world became black, once again.
Sisimito II--Xibalba Page 36