“Bloody Hell!” grumbled Robertson. “I can’t understand anything. Can’t you speak some English?”
“I’m sorry, Chief Guard. It’s just that, like Choc said, we’ve been through so much,” apologized Teul, to my great surprise.
“What you’ve been through is done. If you dwell in the past, you will not accomplish what you want in the future. You must live in the present. Win the battles of today.” He shrugged his shoulders. “It’s all up to you, Waach.”
I nodded, remembering Taat’s words, “Where are you? The answer is ‘Here.’ What time is it? ‘Now.’ What are you? ‘This moment.’”
Kish continued, “How good are you with the ch’aw-baq?”
I frowned. “Not very good. When we were boys, Bas and I used to play ch’aw-baqs we made from reeds growing along the river bank. When we finished bathing in the river we’d sit on the banks drying, and play the ch’aw-baqs we made. He was always better than me.” I smiled at the memory. “Yet, he never told me I wasn’t good.” It was my turn to shrug my shoulders. “The most I did was blow a few notes.”
“That is enough. I will give you instructions when we arrive at U-yeh Ja.” He slipped the ch’aw-baq in his loincloth.
“I will also give you a ch’o’.”387
“A ch’o’? What the fok will I do with a ch’o’? Will I play the ch’aw-baq and the ch’o’ dance as we provide entertainment for the bloodthirsty Knives?”
“Listen, Waach,” ordered Kish, sternly. I clamped down on my teeth. “This type of ch’o’ also emits pulses, but they are different from that of the chikoop. I will also explain what you are to do once we reach U-yeh Ja.” He looked around. “Sometimes, the walls have ears, as does the abix in the kool.” Emataly brought him a small woven basket. He reached in and took out a small ch’o’. He showed it to me and placed it in his loincloth.
“That ch’o’ has sharp teeth like a blow dart, and you’re putting it in your loincloth. Aren’t you afraid it bites off your toon?” I joked.
“I hope you do not carry your humor with you into U-yeh Ja, Waach. If you do, it is you who will lose your toon, your u-ye’el-toons as well. Many times, that is the only part of the body that the Knives will cut off.”
“Madafok!” blurted out Teul. “I told you about this man.”
Kish ignored him and continued. “They allow the contestant to return to Xibalba for a future life of receiving rather than giving. Is that the life you want, Waach?” Unconsciously, my hand moved down and I held on to Tóolok. As I looked at Kish, I felt sure I could see a hidden smile in that stern face of his. I grinned, but he hid his. “Are you ready, Waach?” I nodded. “Then, ko’one’ex.”
The men came over to me and each hugged me. Teul kissed me on my forehead then they shouted Ixca junes maka ka metzev!, the phrase that was becoming our war cry, We are never stronger than when we are one! I saw in their eyes, felt in their embraces, that they wanted to be with me in U-yeh Ja. That could never happen. As Kish and I began walking towards the door, the four guards in the room and the one at the door came to attention and hit their chests. My body burned with the honor they were giving me.
Kish and I walked down the passageway going to the right of K’íilkab Ja then passing alongside Baläm Ja until we reached the green door of U-yeh Ja. Kish turned and looked at me. He spoke quietly. “As you enter U-yeh Ja, you will stoop down and from then on, you will continually keep your body as small as you can. You will always be as silent as possible and listen with great concentration. You will put down the ch’o’ and follow him. He will lead you through the correct passage. The ch’o’ will not only lead you, he will send out pulses silent to your ear that will form a close-range barrier around you and himself. The ch’o’’s pulses will repel those from the Knives, returning them in all directions, confusing the Knives. That will not protect you completely. As I said, you must always listen. When you hear the click from the Knives increasing, you will know that you have been sensed. As soon as you hear the b-u-z-z, begin playing the ch’aw-baq. The sound from the ch’aw-baq will further confuse and disorientate the Knives.
“Kish,” I whispered. “Since I was a boy, Bas and I would go into caves and I have never heard the click of a sotz’. The only call I’ve heard from a sotz’ was the eek-eek, eek-eek, of the Camazotz in Sotz’ Ja, and that was no ordinary sotz’. How will I hear the click? How will I follow the ch’o’? You said it is dark in U-yeh Ja.”
“You are fortunate, Waach, that Huracan remains indebted to Hunahpu and Xbalanque. Once you enter U-yeh Ja, you will be aware of all sounds that are there. You will hear the squeak of the ch’o’ and you will follow that sound closely as it will keep you under the protective barrier and guide you through the correct passageway. As long as you hear squeak, the ch’o’ is moving. Remember, when you hear the clicks at a steady low rate, they are searching. As the clicks start to increase, it is because they have identified a body and they become excited. Only you and the ch’o’ are in U-yeh Ja. When you hear the b-u-z-z then, as I said before, immediately begin to blow the ch’aw-baq. The ch’o’ will know that you have been found and the Knives will start their advance; the ch’o’ will begin to run faster. You have to keep up with him and also blow the ch’aw-baq. The click from the Knives will begin to slow down significantly, becoming almost silent, as the Knives approach you. If you hear the steady low rate again, that will mean they have lost you. You can stop blowing the ch’aw-baq, but remember, the ch’o’ is moving.”
“When I have returned to the door, what do I do?”
“You hold the ch’o’ and keep him with you. You remain very still. Keep the ch’aw-baq with you also. If you hear b-u-z-z, start to blow. Do not go to sleep.” I nodded. Kish handed me the ch’aw-baq and the ch’o’, then took a step back. I looked at the ch’o’. Its hind legs were not there. I looked at Kish, querying. He ignored my look.
RAZOR HOUSE
U-YEH JA
“We have arrived at U-yeh Ja, the trial house of the Death God Vucub-Came, and face the Green Door that carries the glyph of Ah-Puch, the God of Death, who rules over the ninth level of the Underworld. Waach! Are you ready to enter U-yeh Ja?”
“I am.”
“May the gods be with you,” Kish said, and opened the door.
I stepped in and immediately crouched down, forming myself into as small a ball as I could, the ch’o’ in my right hand, the ch’aw-baq in my left. As the door closed behind me, I was plunged into total darkness. Yet, as my eyes adjusted, it did not seem as dark as Ee’hoch’e’en Ja. The ch’o’ squirmed a little, but made no sound. U-yeh Ja was silent. I got on my knees and was glad to feel the surface very smooth. I moved on a little and drew back in pain as my knees came down on sharp rocks. I felt them cutting into me. “Fok!” I cussed spontaneously and loudly, not thinking of Kish’s warning, and was immediately very sorry for the click of the Knives came alive. The ch’o’ wriggled in alarm in my hand and its sharp teeth sank into my finger. It was only with great restraint that I did not cuss again, even louder that time, and drop the ch’o’. I calmed myself and placed the ch’o’ on the ground before me and he started moving away. Trying to keep my body as small as possible, I began following him, knowing I was close to him only because of the almost silent squeak he spoke as he moved. I was going along in a squat, brushing ahead of me with my hands, trying to keep away from the sharp rocks that were on the path. I was not always successful, but I forced myself to endure the pain and keep my mouth shut.
The click from the Knives had not increased to the b-u-z-z and were maintained at a regular frequency. I wanted to stretch out my hands to feel for a wall, to know if we had entered a tunnel, but remembered Kish’s warning to remain as small as possible, so I kept going along, not knowing where I was going, keeping under the barrier the ch’o’ was providing. Suddenly, there were no more squeaks. The ch’o’ had stopped. I crouched as low as I possibly could then, cautiously, hesitantly, pushed my right
hand out to my side. I felt the wall of a tunnel.
The squeaks started again and we began moving at a steady slow pace. I had no control over how fast or slow the ch’o’ went ahead, but I was glad it was slow for it gave me time to place my knees, avoiding as much injury as I could. Both my shoulders brushed against the walls of the tunnel and it was only because of our slow advance that the sharp ridges there did not cut deeply into me. Kish! You didn’t tell me about this. All I thought I had to worry about were the fokin Knives.
I had no choice but to keep going as the ch’o’ did not stop; also, I had firmly embedded in my mind Kish’s warning about turning back and the tunnel was, indeed, getting smaller. My shoulders kept touching the walls and each time its razor edges cut into me. I was able to tolerate that, but when the stone blades from above started gashing my back, I suddenly began to feel very tired. Perhaps, my body had just been through too much.
I had to keep going. I had to remain under the protective cover of the ch’o’. My head hit a tusk like projection from above me and I felt it tear into my scalp. A trickle of blood began flowing across my face. I had to feel ahead of me, in front of my whole cowering body. Everything I touched cut into me, but I kept my jaws locked together so that I did not cry out and I redirected my thoughts away from my pain to the night at the Hidden Valley Falls.
The walls did not have only sharp ridges. Every so often there were small boulders, their surfaces as coarse as rough sand paper, as damaging as the claw-like slots of a grater, ready to shred the skin off any part of my almost completely naked body that touched them. Shelf-like projections hindered me. They felt loose, as if ready to fall, every surface on them marked with nails of stone.
I kept trudging on as a crouched ball, sweating, even though it was not hot in U-yeh Ja. Then a serious problem smashed me. I developed an intense cramp in my right thigh. I cried out, trying to hold my low form, tightening my left thigh, hoping that would relieve the cramp, but it didn’t. I couldn’t maintain my position because of the pain. I felt my right leg stretching out behind me, out of the safety of the protective shelter. I had to get rid of the cramp. I had no choice or I wouldn’t be able to move further and the ch’o’ would leave me. Grimacing, sweating, crying out, I got onto my back, enduring the sharp ridges I couldn’t avoid, and started doing the supine bicycling exercise, hoping to get rid of the cramp. Immediately my feet left the shelter, click-click-click-click … b-u-z-z.
The cramp began easing and I packed every limb of my body as closely together as they could be, hoping that I was still completely under the protective cover. As long as I remained under the cover, the Knives would not be able to sense exactly where I was, but because I had cried out they had a very good idea and could probably zero in on me.
Squeak-squeak-squeak. The ch’o’ was becoming frantic and was moving, and more quickly. The cramp was less so I unfolded myself and began my low crawl again, holding on to the ch’aw-baq. I didn’t even know when I was hit until I felt warmth flowing across my right flank. I reached up with my hand and felt a shallow laceration. Kish had said that the Knives didn’t even have to touch, just pass close bye. Squeak-squeak-squeak-squeak. I picked up my pace and entered a part of the tunnel that was not as tight. That was good and bad. It was good for I had more space to maneuver in, but it also gave more air room to the flying Knives.
I heard the Knives hitting against the jagged walls as they flew past me in the darkness, but I was not always lucky. Burning lacerations tortured my body until all I felt was universal agony. Then I began to tire more rapidly, becoming disorientated.
I had travelled many days from Santa Cruz, and had endured five days of pain and suffering in Xibalba. Perhaps, I just couldn’t take anymore. I chuckled in my early madness. At least I have the night at Hidden Valley Falls to remember as I go to wherever I am going. I felt around me. There were not too many sharp ridges, so I decided I would just lie there and wait for the darkness within me and the darkness of the tunnel to overcome me. It was finally over.
“Lord Chiac!” I listened. There was a voice. “Lord Chiac! I looked ahead of me. The ch’o’ was squeaking desperately. Not far ahead of me stood Noh-il, glowing slightly in the darkness, his eyes angry. “You defeated me in battle, Lord Chiac. Are you going to let those flying u-yehs defeat you? If you do, you will poison the honor of your victory and that of my defeat. And what about the stories you told me? Have you forgotten your Ix Na Li Kawa? Your Xch’úup Xma’ K’aaba’.” The Ix Balanque roared then started disappearing.
“Noh-il! Noh-il! Don’t go,” I pleaded. “I need you my friend.” But he continued to disappear, leaving me into the darkness. I reached up and held Bas’ Green Scapular, felt its warmth in my hand, saw its green glow against my body. I looked ahead and continued crawling in the darkness, suffering the lacerations, withstanding the torment, enduring the fear, always accompanied by the soft wind of the passing Knives and the warmth of my blood.
I kept reaching out from time to time until my arms no longer felt the sides of the passage. We had crawled through the entire passage and were out, returned to where we had entered. I quickly felt for, found, and held the ch’o’. I continued crawling until I came up to the wall, placed my back against it, crossed my legs under me, ignored the continuous pain I felt. I moved along my left, firstly, but could not find the door. I then moved to my right and came upon it. The ch’o’ was getting nervous again as the click of the Knives increased and decreased around us. I placed the ch’aw-baq beside me and lay on my side, positioning myself like a baby in its mother’s belly. I began rubbing the head of the ch’o’, trying to calm the small animal, remembering for the first time that he had only two front legs and so would have dragged itself through the whole passage. His squeak was becoming somewhat erratic, more infrequent, and I wondered if he was losing control over the barrier he provided. Sometimes, I felt a slight breeze on my body from a close passing Knife, and felt warmth draining down where it had passed by. At times, I heard the Knives fly by, click-click-click-click, mysterious in the darkness.
The ch’o’ settled, producing only an occasional squeak, and U-yeh Ja became very quiet. I did not hear any click, did not feel any breeze or hear any sound from passing Knives. As the ch’o’ calmed completely, all I heard was a low monotonous squeak in a regular and sluggish pattern. My tiredness relaxed me, my eyes slowly closed, my breathing became deep. I dozed and my hand slowly opened and the ch’o’ was free. Click-click-click-click exploded in the darkness increasing in frequency and building rapidly to a loud b-u-z-z. I grabbed the ch’aw-baq and began blowing, tightening myself as small as I could. I threw myself back to my happy boyhood days with Bas, in my jungle, when we sat on the riverbank blowing our reed ch’aw-baqs, and I blew. I just blew. The click-click-click-click began diminishing in frequency, a threatening warning of great danger. I heard the ch’o’ coming back towards me, getting closer and closer, but its squeak-squeak was chaotic in its panic. Then there was nothing from the ch’o’, no squeak, and I knew that the brave ch’o’ just wasn’t able to protect himself anymore, and I wondered if that would also happen to me.
I hugged myself and the ch’aw-baq and I was soon sitting on the riverbank at Santa Cruz. Bas was smiling up at me as I readied myself to jump into the river below. I reached up for his Green Scapular. I held onto it. It was warm against my chest. As the tears flowed from my eyes, Bas picked up his reed ch’aw-baq and began to play the most beautiful music he had ever played. I listened until all the click-click-click-click in U-yeh Ja had disappeared. I was at peace, U-yeh Ja was at peace, and I remained safe, protected by the beautiful music that came from the ch’aw-baq of my friend and brother, Bas.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
HOT HOUSE: K’ĺILKAB JA
SIXTH TRIAL HOUSE - SEVENTH TRIAL
K’iin 6 - The Uinal of Yaxk’in’
Saturday, May 5,1973
Waach! Are you ready to leave U-yeh Ja, the House of Trials of the
Death God Vucub-Came that carries the glyph of Ah-Puch, the God of Death, who rules over the Ninth Level of the Underworld?”
I put down the ch’aw-baq. “I am ready to leave U-yeh Ja. Waach has won the trial.” Slowly, the door opened.
“Follow me,” said Kish and he turned, leading me to the Chamber of the Council Place of the Lords.
“Wait, Chief Guard.” He stopped, but did not turn. “Why did the ch’o’ have his back legs cut off?”
“Why does that concern you, Waach.” He turned and faced me. “You have won the trial with little injury. Your whole body has bled, but your wounds are shallow. Let’s go. The Death Gods await us.”
I did not move. “The ch’o’ saved my life. Now, he’s dead.”
“That was his purpose. He served you well. That is all that matters.” I still did not move. He looked at me, almost indignantly. “If his back legs were not removed, he would have moved too quickly. He would not have protected you from the Knives. The ch’o’ was a Warrior. He gave up his legs and his life to protect you. He did what he had to do. That is the Way of the Warrior.”
“He saved my life and he died.”
Kish hesitated. “You may offer a sacrifice to Manik,388 if you wish. Now, ko’one’ex.” He turned and walked off. I glowered.
Kish, as was his habit, remained absolutely quiet during the whole walk. The morning skies over Xibalba were brighter than usual, providing a bright crimson color that covered us both with a conspicuous red glow as we ascended the steps to the chamber. There was murmuring and the spectators were pointing at us. Kish took me to the stand before the statues of the Death Gods and I faced the Lords of Xibalba, once again.
Sisimito II--Xibalba Page 44