Sisimito II--Xibalba

by Henry W. Anderson

  The Ahau Can Mai came through the elaborate arched doorway, walking hurriedly. He bowed, frighteningly, stammering as he stood in front of the Death Gods and the Demon Lords of Xibalba. “My Lords. Waach has won, has wonhis sixth trial. Waach spent the night in U-yeh Ja, the House of Trials of the Death God Vucub-Came that carries the symbol of Ah-Puch, the God of Death who rules over the Ninth Level of the Underworld, and survived.”

  Vucub-Came stood. Ahau Can Mai!”

  “My Lord!”

  “Why do you stammer like a frightened child? Do you fear that we are angered that Waach has won another trial? Do you fear that we will send you to Ah-Puch so that his slaves can torture you for eternity?”

  The Ahau Can Mai made a deep bow. “I do fear your wrath, My Lord, as I do serve you. But along with my fear is the excitement that comes with the prospect that there will be a ballgame in Xibalba, one worthy to be sung for eternity, one even greater than those played by Hunahpu and Xbalanque, and Hun Hunahpu and Vucub-Hunahpu.” He made another deep bow. The spectators roared in agreement.

  Vucub-Came raised his hand and the crowd fell silent. “And what makes you think that Waach will win tonight’s trial, Ahau Can Mai? Have you arranged it that he will?”

  Terror marked the Ahau Can Mai’s face. “No My, No MyLord!”

  “Stammering again,” mocked Vucub-Came, raising his hands to the crowd and getting an immediate response of laughter. The Ahau Can Mai knelt before the Lords. “I live only to serve you.”

  “Remain there, Ahau Can Mai, until I decide what to do with you. Someone will compensate for Waach’s success.” Hun-Came smiled.

  “So, Waach, you have won the sixth trial,” stated Vucub-Came.

  “I have, My Lord.”

  He nodded, looking suspiciously at me. “It also appears that you have regained your strength.”

  “By the blessings of the gods, I have, My Lord.”

  Vucub-Came hesitated then continued, “Are you ready for your seventh trial, Waach?”

  “I am, My Lord.”

  “Tonight, you will enter K’íilkab Ja, the House of Trials that carries the glyph of the god Hobnil of the East, and the glyph of the fiery Buluc-Chabtan.389

  “My Lord. And my Warrior?”

  “He awaits you below.”

  I nodded. “My Lord!”

  The Death Gods rose as did all the spectators in the chamber. The Demon Lords then rose and the Lords of Xibalba left the chamber. The Ahau Can Mai was still kneeling. He looked about him as if uncertain what to do. The people started murmuring. He got up stealthily and turned to face the crowd. “And now, Xibalbans,” he opened his arms, “Place your bets.” Loud noise returned to the chamber and the Xibalbans, once again, began leaving their seats, moving hurriedly into the nearby rooms to place their bets on who they thought the victor would be, K’íilkab Ja or me.

  “Ko’one’ex,” ordered Kish. I ran to the stairs.

  “Waach!” shouted Kish. “Do not run. Walk like the T’oit’ik-jolom you are. I just ignored him. The guard at the door moved aside after hitting his chest and I burst into the room. The other guards, five were now in the room, stood straight and all hit their chests together, making a resounding single salute in the small room. Rhys was standing with the men. I ran to him and hugged him.

  “Waach,” he said. “We meet again.” He smiled. “I didn’t think I would see you again.” I saw him watching my wounds and scars, but he said nothing.

  “Nor I, you. Have the men briefed you?”

  “Yes, and I was informed that in Xibalba you are Waach.”

  I nodded, “I am Waach.” I paused, briefly. “Only Taat’s left,” I said, suddenly saddened. I hadn’t been thinking of him much. I suppose I just thought he would be okay, that he would take care of things as he always did. Suddenly, I realized that if I failed tonight, I would never see him again. “Taat?”

  “The last time I saw him was when Yochi rescued us then dumped us in prison. Once we were placed into individual cells, I saw him no more.” Rhys looked at me with concern. “I am sure he is okay, Fuc … Waach. We are all here and we faced the same ordeals.” I nodded.

  “Waach!”

  “Yes, Kis … Chief guard.”

  “I will ignore your insubordination this time, Waach. You do not run. Don’t let it happen again,” stressed Kish, unconvincingly annoyed. “I will now go for Emataly and Nikai.” You have some wounds for them to attend to then you will eat as much as you can and sleep as much as you can. Later, we will get you ready for K’íilkab Ja.” He marched out.

  The men and I sat on the floor, in a small circle, all of us eating a soup made with corn, squash, and some type of meat. They wanted to know about everything that had happened to me in the Houses of Trials. I told them that I would wait until Taat was with us, as I did not wish to tell the stories twice. My face must have showed the pain I had felt at each trial because they became uncomfortable. “Give me some time, Men. The memories are still fresh and painful. I don’t know if I even want those memories.”

  “That’s okay, my friend. We will survive this fokin place and then we’ll sit and tell our stories around pint after pint of beer,” portended Rhys. “And no back-rooms, Teul.” The men laughed out loudly and I was happy to see that even in that dark and terrible place, we still shared our camaraderie.

  “I’m sure Teul can’t promise that there’ll be no more back-rooms,” I chuckled, “but Choco will make sure he uses a spen …”

  “Condom, Waach! Condom!” corrected Teul, highly amused.

  The men cracked-up in laughter again, this time at my expense. “Fok you all,” I bellowed, laughing, then suddenly became very emotional. “I have grown to love you all, so much.”

  “Stop that madafok,” grunted Teul. “You want all of us crying, or what?”

  I smiled, sheepishly, then we continued talking and laughing, ribbing each other, trying to take our minds off Xibalba and the final House of Trials I faced that night. After a while, Kish returned with Emataly and Nikai.

  “Take off your loincloth and get on the table,” he ordered. I had been so distracted that I was no longer aware of the wounds I had received in U-yeh Ja, but as my attention was returned to them, I felt pain and tightness. I did as I was instructed and got unto the table, lying first on my back. I heard Teul muttering and the men subdued laughing. I smiled.

  Emataly and Nikai started cleaning my bloodied knees and feet that had been cut by the sharp stones then moved on to the lacerations done by the Knives as well as my other injuries. It was painful and I grimaced. Teul must have seen my discomfort and decided it was time to intervene. He approached me with a wider grin than usual. I could see the men already smiling and I knew I was in for it. At least, it would distract me from the pain.

  “You know, Waach?” he said. “You have a rather small toon, as we all know and have already discussed. I would have thought that since you are taller than all of us, you would have a bigger toon. Wouldn’t you have thought so, my brothers?” The men were chuckling while I thought of a response.

  “Right now, it’s in ‘preying mode’,” I answered.

  “Praying mode? You mean the toon is praying fi geh lee waif?”390 The men roared. “I don’t think that prayer will be answered. At least, not anytime soon.”

  “No Teul. Not pray, as in kneeling down. Preying as when an animal is going to attack another. I’m sure you’ve seen picture-shows about Africa. When you see a leopard in the tall grass preying on an antelope, you don’t see it walking upright, exposing its very long body and big head. The leopard gets low in the grass, making itself as small as possible as it makes its approach. Then as it nears its target, it suddenly leaps up, and that’s when you see how long and solid it is, how big it is, and how large its angry and hungry head is.” The men started guffawing. “So, Teul, Tóolok is now in preying mode. When it nears a target, moves into the grid, it moves quickly into ‘active mode’. Teul, the
change can be so frightening to the target that many have screamed as they saw the change, usually too late as Tóolok would already be hungrily and forcibly penetrating. Yes, Teul. They scream, and not only with fear because of the size, but with hunger for the greatest erotic pleasures they will ever receive, greater than any described in the Kama Sutra. Not like you when they cry with disappointment.”

  Teul shook his head, his grin the widest I have seen. “You’re learning, Waach. You’re madafok learning,” he said as he returned to the men who were laughing and nodding their heads. He did not sit, hesitated then returned to my side. His grin was mixed with concern and emotion. “You’re full of shit, Chiac.” Then he became serious. “I love you, my brother. Take care and make sure you come out of K’íilkab Ja so that we can beat Xibalba at their madafok ballgame.” He put his hand on my raw shoulder. “Then you can teach me some of that Kama Sutra madafok.”

  I smiled. “I will, Teul. I … we … will complete both missions. I will survive K’íilkab Ja and we will win the ballgame, then we’ll get out of this fokin place. We then take on and accomplish our original mission.” His eyes moistened as he nodded and walked away. Emataly and Nikai came and began applying a paste to the wounds. “And I will teach you the Kama Sutra madafok.”

  “Enough talk. Sit up and drink this,” ordered Kish, holding a ceramic mug.

  I sat up and drank, as commanded. It was mildly bitter. I handed Kish the mug, looking at him.

  “It is xmutz,” he said. “It will make you sleep. Now, turn over so that the women can finish cleaning your wounds.”

  I resumed lying on the table, this time on my belly. Again, the cleaning was painful. I heard the men talking, an occasional chuckle, then their voices went further and further away and the room grew dark as my eyes closed.

  I felt someone slapping my shoulder and turned over to look up. It was Kish.

  “Time to get up, Chiac. We need to prepare you for K’íilkab Ja.” He brought me a bowl. “Eat!”

  I was still drowsy, but I got up, hung my feet off the edge of the table after having removed a piece of tapestry someone had thrown over me. The bowl had avocado, a type of white beans, and two pixtuns, thick tortillas. I ate. Five guards were standing opposite me and as I looked at them, they hit their chest. I nodded, not knowing what else to do. My men were all sleeping near to where the guards stood, two sharing a mat, a second mat thrown over them.

  Kish returned carrying a bowl of burning coals; Emataly and Nikai brought their baskets and jars. I was immediately ordered to stand. They cleaned my whole body, removing the paste they had applied earlier to the wounds. I felt no pain, but all my muscles were sore. I was given another mug. I drank its contents then looked to Kish.

  “It is cha-cá.391 It will help you tolerate the heat. It will move throughout your body. It will protect your lungs from the hot air; it will protect your skin from the searing heat and fire.”

  “Fire?”

  “Yes, Waach. Fire.”

  “Fok!”

  Emataly brought a loincloth with a pouch attached, pliable and feeling like rubber. She wrapped it tightly in place, not giving Tóolok any breathing space. Yet, it was not uncomfortable, but made me realize how I had become accustomed to being without clothes. Nikai then put rubber lej-xajäbs on my feet, tying them in place with rubber straps.

  The women went to the bowl of coals and returned with a large jar, smoke coming from the top. Emataly handed me a mug.

  “Drink!” ordered Kish. “It will help.” I was afraid to ask Help with what? so I simply drank. It was thick, sweet, and full of herbs.

  “You should remove the cloth medallion,” suggested Kish.

  “Not a fok,” I answered, shaking my head.

  Kish shrugged his shoulders as he always did to my response on that issue. “Now, stand still, Waach. This will be hot.” He handed me a short piece of stick. “Bite on this.” I knew that whatever they were doing had to be done, so I said nothing. I also knew that I would be suffering. I bit down on the stick. To my amazement, Emataly and Nikai put their hands into the hot thick liquid, scooping it up. I was promptly drawn back to my youth when Nah’ made hot kuas. She would put her fingers on the hot ke’l and not even flinch. It was a tradition in our people that young girls had to get used to the touch of the hot ke’l before they got married. The reason was that one had to pat the ke’l to see if it were the right temperature to properly bake the kua. From the time my sister, Isabella, was old enough to reach the height of the ke’l, she had to keep touching the hot surface until her fingers were able to touch the ke’l and she felt no heat or pain. I remembered being happy that, as a male, I didn’t have to touch the hot ke’l, didn’t have to bake the kua. I just wanted to go to the kool, to plant and harvest the abix,392 and to hunt in my jungle … that was until Father Stiobhan took me to school. Why the fok do I keep thinking of that man? I don’t like him.

  The hot liquid brought me back to reality and I had to do my best not to jump, spit out the stick, and cuss like when I was in a barroom brawl. It was almost unbearable as Emataly and Nikai started pasting in over my body. I not only burned from the heat, but I burned as if someone was rubbing crushed roasted habanero pepper sauce in my eyes. Through my daze, I saw the guards observing me, expressionless. My men had awakened and were focused on me, anguish on their faces. Kish showed no emotion. Even the guard at the door had turned and was gazing at me. I began to sway, feeling very dizzy. The room was spinning and everyone in the room became fuzzy, as if I were looking at them through dirty spectacles. The pain was cloaking me in fear and delirium and, as my eyes darkened, I saw a Camazotz coming straight at me, its long fangs reaching out to me. I jumped out of its way, knocking over something or someone for there was a loud crash and shouting.

  “Stand still,” ordered Kish, somewhere from afar, and I hazily felt arms restraining me. “You must stand still.” I tried. “Support him, whether or not you get burned or also. You have to keep him standing as the oil has to be applied evenly. There must not even be a crack. The heat he will endure now is nothing compared to the heat in K’íilkab Ja. Keep him steady,” Kish shouted. “The drink will help him. He’ll soon begin to leave us and he’ll settle down.”

  It was obvious Kish was talking to the men holding me, and I tried to stand still, but I couldn’t. The pain from the burning was indeed going away, but I was floating and there were Camazotz, Knives, and ek baläms everywhere. I saw a ch’o’ trembling in a corner and it cried out to me, “You cut off my legs then you killed me.”

  “No! No! No!” I shouted, and the stick fell from my mouth. “It is the way of Xibalba and, andI’m sorry.” I felt arms about me, holding me even tighter than before, then I began to see only darkness and I smiled as I travelled, as I journeyed to the mild blue mists of Kaab Ya’ax of Yaxché, to sitting on a boulder, to telling stories to Ix Balanque.

  “He’s settling,” said Kish. “You can move away from him. He will keep standing.”

  “The juice from the Flower That Honors Ix Chel is finally taking effect,” said Emataly.

  “And why couldn’t we wait until it took effect?” raged Teul, from a corner of the room where he had moved to. “Why did we have to put him through that?”

  “Each of us will respond differently to the juice from the Flower That Honors Ix Chel. Its effect can be immediate or delayed. We do not know which it will be,” responded Kish. “I suggest you refrain from further questions, Teul, so that we can continue doing what we have to do.” Teul closed his eyes and fumed.

  The women continued to apply the hot liquid to every part of Chiac’s body, from his feet up to his jaw. They made sure that the edges of the loincloth were sealed to his skin, the lej-xajäbs to his feet. As the liquid cooled, it began to harden into a thin layer of durable rubber, and his entire body, except his head, was sealed. Chiac stood unmoving, upright, and apparently asleep.

  Robertson walked over to Chiac and rubbed his han
ds on his back, examining the rubber. He looked at Kish. “How did you make this?”

  “By the blessings of the gods I understand you, but I cannot answer you in your language,” responded Kish.

  Robertson frowned, not understanding what Kish said. “We need to fix that,” Kish sighed. He looked to Teul. “Can you help with translating?” Teul nodded, looking quite put-out.

  “It is made from the sap of the k’ik’393 tree and the juice of the Flower That Honors Ix Chel. Both those plants are Sacred. It is the same mixture that is used to make the ol for Pitz. For the ol, the sap and the juice are mixed in equal portions. That increases the bounce. To protect Waach we need to make the k’ik’ hard, so we use more juice and less sap,” Kish explained.

  “I see,” said Robertson, after Teul translated. “How long will he be like this?” He passed his hands in front of Chiac’s face. There was no response. “It looks like some kind of coma.”

  “He will soon be out of it. It was necessary to help with the burning pain.”

  “He’s not looking too good, Kish. He seems to be having difficulty breathing.” Kish turned and looked at Chiac. “Something is definitely going wrong, Kish.”

  “What the madafok is wrong?” demanded Teul, as he and the men hurried up to Kish and Robertson.

  “There’s nothing wrong,” answered Kish, somewhat peeved.

  “He can’t breathe properly,” insisted Robertson.

  Emataly walked up to Kish and handed him a knife. Kish rubbed his hand along Chiac’s chest. We have to wait just a bit longer. The oil isn’t ready.”

  “Bloody Hell,” swore Robertson.

  “Fokmi,” cussed Choc, walking up to Kish. “He can’t breathe. I am not going to stand here and watch him die.” The guards immediately tensed.

  Emataly rubbed her hand against Chiac’s chest again. She nodded. Kish began cutting, removing long and narrow pieces of the thin coat covering Chiac’s chest, blood occasionally oozing at the corners. Kish ignored it. He then removed a large square piece from either lateral side of the chest revealing reddened skin. Chiac immediately began breathing easier.