Olmec Obituary

by L. J. M. Owen

  ‘Integrity?’ Flecks of phlegm were gathering in the corners of Carl’s mouth. ‘My interpretation of Juluwik is correct. Do you have any idea how many people are relying on me to make sure this site becomes world famous and well funded? How dare you risk their careers by implying I’m wrong.’

  ‘I’m not implying anything,’ Elizabeth said steadily, packing up her belongings. ‘I’m saying you have no evidence that these women were part of some ritual sacrifice to men. You can’t explain why they were buried with male grave goods or under writing dedicated to men. I’m saying you should take the time to figure it out properly instead of rushing to publish nonsense!’

  ‘You are banned,’ Carl’s voice shook with rage. ‘You are banned from working on this material. Email all your data and findings to Alice today, then delete your files. If you breach confidentiality in any way, I will sue you. Give me back your keys.’

  Carl held out his hand, took the keys from her, spun on his heels and left. Clearly he assumed she would obey his orders.

  She would, but not just yet. The ballplayer, and the others buried at Juluwik, had given Elizabeth a new lease on life. She needed to say goodbye properly.

  Elizabeth walked to the cupboard and removed the box containing the ballplayer’s head. With great care she rolled out her blue felt mat and placed the ancient jaw and cranium on it.

  Trying not to splash her with tears, Elizabeth sat with the ballplayer until it grew dark outside.

  Chapter Eleven

  Olmec date 4.15.10.12.7 8 Manik’ 10 Ch’en (26 November 1231 BCE)

  Ix’s family’s huts, Lord Ajaw’s lands, ancient Olmec (Juluwik, modern Mexico)

  Ix rolled the rubber ball to Kat, happy to sit for a while. The new maize child growing in Ix’s womb was enormous. At just eight moons, it was already larger than Kat was at ten moons. By the Lords of Maize, it had to be a boy!

  Ix and her sister Tzikin had worked for hours alongside their mother, Imox, to prepare a celebratory feast for tonight. Bowls of maize, beans, squash and sweet potatoes pressed against piles of turkey, fish, rabbit and deer. Ix’s favourite dish, avocados mashed with chillies and cacao, begged to be scooped up by tortillas, and washed down with blue corn juice. Ix’s stomach growled at the thought.

  Ix, Tzikin and all their children were gathered at Imox’s house to mark the first moon time of Tzikin’s eldest girl, Akna. As they’d prepared the ceremonial soups, Imox, Tzikin and Akna looked ready to burst with pride, while Akna’s twin sister, Xmucane, pouted.

  Chimalmat, Ix’s eldest daughter, sat in the corner of the hut with Akna and Xmucane, whispering furiously.

  ‘It’s not my fault I got mine first!’ Akna yelled at Xmucane.

  ‘Girls!’ Tzikin admonished her daughters. ‘Enough bickering. Go outside and check on your brothers and sisters.’

  ‘And you, Chimalmat,’ Ix added. ‘Go with them and check on your sisters.’

  ‘Yes, Mother,’ Chimalmat said.

  Tzikin huffed as the three girls left. ‘She’s so obedient, Ix. How do you manage it?’

  ‘Ix was always more obedient than you, Tzikin,’ Imox said. ‘Why should her children be any different?’

  ‘Mother!’ Tzikin protested. Ix grinned.

  ‘It’s hard on Xmucane, though,’ Ix said, ‘having Akna come first in everything.’

  ‘And how would you know?’ Tzikin teased. ‘You always beat me at everything!’

  ‘Is that true, Mother?’ asked Kat.

  ‘Yes,’ Ix answered, rolling the ball to her again. Tzikin punched Ix playfully on the arm.

  ‘Kimi’s here, Kimi’s here!’ Ix’s other daughters ran through the door in a tumble of limbs.

  ‘Girls, don’t run inside,’ Ix said. ‘Kimi had to attend a birth last night. I’m sure she’s tired. Let her rest and eat before you pester her to watch you play.’

  ‘Yes, Mother,’ they chorused, running back out the door.

  When she entered the hut, Kimi looked exhausted. The midwife’s aged face was slick with sweat.

  ‘Have you slept?’ Ix asked her.

  ‘No. It was another breech birth. Poor Iqchel, may Lady Midwife soothe and heal her.’ Kimi shook her head. ‘Another perfect girl, just not breathing. We had to sedate Iqchel afterwards.’

  Imox handed Kimi a bowl of soup and a tortilla. As Kimi ate, the four women chatted about Lord Ajaw’s great new ceremonial site, where Ix and Tzikin’s husbands were working. They wondered if any of their children or grandchildren would grow to compete on the new Great Ballcourt.

  Ix smoothed a hand over her swollen belly. If this was a boy, he would certainly play the Ballgame. And, with Ix for a mother and Aqabal for a father, he would surely win.

  Their break over, the women began to boil maize in lime for tomorrow’s tortillas. When Ix stopped for a drink, Kimi handed her a gourd of strangely sweet, cold tea.

  ‘This is new,’ Ix said.

  ‘Yes,’ Kimi replied. ‘It will help the child to take form.’

  ‘Surely he or she…’

  ‘Or both of them!’ Imox interjected.

  Ix smiled. ‘…is fully formed now?’

  ‘They still grow in the last moon or two. You know that.’

  The women had boiled about half the maize when Ix felt a ripple in her stomach. The child was certainly strong. Ix squirmed uncomfortably. Liquid began to seep from between her legs…

  ‘No, it’s too early!’’ Ix cried.

  Imox was by her side instantly. ‘What is it?’

  ‘My womb waters…look. It’s too early, it’s only eight moons.’

  ‘You’re strong,’ Tzikin said, ‘and your babies are strong. It will be fine.’

  ‘But it’s an inauspicious day to give birth!’

  ‘Then we will name him or her after another day,’ Kimi said. ‘Come, you can’t birth here in Imox’s hut.’

  ‘Take her to mine,’ Tzikin instructed.

  Please, please let this be a boy, Ix prayed, and let him survive. Make my husband A Man Who Has Fathered Sons.

  ‘I’m here,’ said Imox, squeezing Ix’s hand. She put a hand on Ix’s belly. ‘I will pray to the Lords of Maize for you.’

  Ix closed her eyes. She had faced death many times on the Great Ballcourt and survived. This child of her womb and Aqabal’s fire would survive, too.

  Chapter Twelve

  Now

  Canberra, Australia

  On Monday morning Elizabeth dragged herself out onto the Library’s terrace for a break. Black trees lined the lake, their naked limbs reaching imploringly through the fog for the sun. She stared at the water, trying to remember what she did yesterday.

  That’s right, she had plastered a smile on her face during breakfast, then excused herself from the Sunday matinee again. Sam’s diatribe on the evils of non-vegetarian shoes provided a useful distraction.

  Elizabeth couldn’t tell her grandparents about what had happened with Carl at the lab – she couldn’t bear their sympathy or their well-meaning advice. So she retreated to her bedroom, emailed her data on the Olmec remains to Alice, then went to bed for the rest of the day.

  Despite wearing four layers of clothing, Elizabeth shivered in the cold.

  Somehow it became Tuesday.

  Judy was talking to her.

  ‘Are you okay?’

  What was Judy on about? She was working. Everything was fine. No-one knew what had happened on Saturday. ‘Hmmm?’

  ‘Elizabeth, are you okay? You seem… Is something wrong?’

  ‘What? No, nothing.’

  ‘Elizabeth. You’re bright red in the face. And you’re sweating, and breathing strangely. Are you sure you feel okay?’

  ‘Yes, I’m fine. I don’t feel hot. I feel a bit cold, actually.’

  Judy looked at her closely, pressed the back of her hand against Elizabeth’s forehead, then shook her head.

  Ten minutes later Elizabeth sat in the passenger seat of her own car as Judy drove them out of the Library car
park. She must have dozed, because all of a sudden they were outside her house. Judy careened into the gravel driveway, got out of the car quickly and helped Elizabeth from her seat. She knocked vigorously on the front door. Nainai Cho answered, then ushered them both inside.

  They sat in the overly bright conservatory and Nainai peered closely at Elizabeth’s face.

  ‘Yīlìshābái, how do you feel?’

  ‘Fine. I’m fine.’ Honestly, what was all the fuss about?

  ‘No, you’re not fine. You have a temperature, your colour is not good and your breath smells strange. What did you have for breakfast?’

  Why was Nainai asking her so many questions? ‘Some coffee.’

  ‘I see. And what did you have for dinner last night? You didn’t join us at the table.’

  ‘I ate something in my room.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘I don’t remember.’

  Nainai looked severely at Elizabeth. Okay, yes, that was a stupid thing to say. The one thing she could not get away with was pleading a poor memory.

  ‘And I know you left the house without breakfast yesterday. In other words, you’ve eaten almost nothing since Sunday breakfast, and you ate little then. You are sick. Both Samantha and Rhys came down with a cold yesterday…I suspect you have the same thing.’ She turned to Judy. ‘Thank you for bringing her home. She can be stubborn about continuing to work even when she is unwell.’

  ‘That’s quite okay, Cho.’ Judy spoke gently for once. ‘Well, Elizabeth, it looks like you’ll be home for a few days. If you see a doctor, grab a medical certificate so you can use your sick days.’

  Elizabeth nodded slightly, aware of her burning cheeks. The room was freezing cold. Why had her grandparents turned off the heating?

  ‘You are not to return to work until you are completely well,’ Judy instructed. ‘Do I make myself clear?’

  Elizabeth nodded again.

  ‘There’s nothing worse than a sick colleague moping around the office, spreading germs. I’ll leave you in Cho’s capable hands and see you when you’re better.’ Judy turned back to Cho. ‘Is Madeleine at home? Perhaps she can give me a lift back to the Library.’

  ‘Certainly, she’s upstairs with Rhys. Come this way and we’ll let her know what’s going on. I’m sure she can drive you back to work.’

  Elizabeth dozed in the warmth of the conservatory, feeling annoyed. Maybe she had a bit of a cold, but she was perfectly fine, if only Judy would let her get back to work.

  Nainai woke her with a tray of Chinese heartache soup and insisted she sit up to eat it. It took Elizabeth more than half an hour to work her way through the bowl of prawn and pork dumplings with buckwheat noodles in rich chicken stock. Afterwards, Nainai had to help her up the stairs to her bedroom. Why did her legs hurt so much?

  — —

  Elizabeth awoke, her head pounding, pyjamas clinging to her skin.

  Grandmère Maddie was knocking on her door. ‘Lizbet, I’m coming in.’ Elizabeth’s grandmother pulled down her blankets, clucked and shook her head.

  ‘Ma petite pauvre. You’re sweating so much you’ve soaked your pyjamas and the sheets. You must get up.’

  Grandmère helped her take a bath, put on clean pyjamas and climb back into a freshly made bed. Her back hurt where it touched the sheets, and her shins ached simply from the weight of the blankets. Grandmère stuck a thermometer in her mouth, waited for the beep then tsked at the result.

  ‘Extremely high. I’ll return with a tisane. Sleep now.’

  After that, Elizabeth lost track of the days. It seemed that Grandmère woke her every few minutes to turn her out of bed and insist she bathe and take her medicine. The cats took shifts to watch over her; at least two of them were in the room whenever she opened her eyes. First Thoth and Seshet, then Paris and Loki.

  All the while, Elizabeth dreamed: she was trapped beneath the earth in a pitch-black cave… Seth, the Egyptian god of chaos, buried her beneath a pile of raw, stinking furs…Her nose filled with the stink of putrefying flesh…Gagging, she begged Luke to save her, but Luke wouldn’t, and her heart broke… Sam and Mai looked on, laughing… A lion entered the cave and gnawed at her leg, ripping the flesh from her bones…She tried to scream but no sound would come out.

  Elizabeth surfaced from the nightmare, gasping for air. She realised she was in her own bed, confined by a pile of faux fur rugs and a cat. Thoth’s paw lay protectively across her leg, claws resting on Elizabeth’s skin through her pyjamas.

  She tried to swallow. It didn’t hurt too much. Sitting up gingerly, arms shaking with the effort, she took inventory.

  Head pounding? No, just a light ache.

  Mouth dry? Like the Sahara, but that could be remedied.

  Too hot or too cold? She was too warm, but that was probably just the pile of blankets.

  Elizabeth reached out one wobbly hand for the lozenges on the nightstand. There was a message there from Grandmère, saying to text when she woke, otherwise Grandmère would check on her at ten o’clock. What day was it?

  Elizabeth did a double-take when she saw the date on her mobile phone. Monday! She had lost six days. She had missed her Skype session with Luke, meaning they hadn’t spoken now for a month. He must be so worried. She never missed his calls.

  Very, very slowly, Elizabeth got out of bed and willed her unsteady legs to go to her desk and open her laptop. She saw a notification for a missed Skype call from Luke. She opened her email inbox, expecting multiple emails from him asking if she was okay. Nothing!

  The bedroom door opened and Grandmère swooped in, arms wide open. She gathered Elizabeth to her and began scolding her immediately.

  ‘Off the computer and back into bed immediately, ma chérie.’

  She helped Elizabeth back under the covers and picked up a thermometer.

  ‘Your temperature is normal. This is a good sign, but you must rest properly. You’ve been very ill. You didn’t even wake when the doctor came to see you.’

  ‘Doctor Lewis was here?’

  ‘Yes. You were so sick she thought we would have to call the ambulance. It’s fortunate we could keep you at home. Samantha and Rhys were out of bed three days ago, but you have been the most sick.’ Relief that Taid was recovering broke through Elizabeth’s distress over Luke. Taid was well into his seventies, so Elizabeth became anxious whenever he was ill.

  ‘Grandmère, I missed a Skype call with Luke yesterday. He didn’t email me to find out why. Something’s wrong.’ Elizabeth started coughing, her whole body wracked with the effort.

  ‘Breathe, chérie. You must stay warm and still. I’m sure Luke is fine. This happened before, oui?’ Grandmère reminded her. ‘I remember, a storm broke the electricity to his internet cafe. If anything happened I’m sure his family will call us.’

  That was little comfort.

  ‘If you like, I will call his mother?’

  ‘Yes, please.’

  ‘If you promise to stay in bed. And no playing on the computer.’

  Elizabeth sank back into the wall of pillows stacked behind her.

  Grandmère returned an hour later, tray in hand and a smile on her face.

  ‘I talked to Luke’s mother. She spoke to him yesterday and he is fine. I wouldn’t worry, chérie, he must have run out of time to email you and assumed that you are fine.’

  What? Here she was, worried that she’d missed his call, and he wasn’t the least bit concerned?

  Elizabeth turned her attention to the contents of the tray. While deeply fevered she had only been able to sip thin stocks and consommés; now she felt able to tackle a richer soup. Steam rose from the bowl and, though she coughed with every bite, she felt stronger as the heavenly liquid of cawl mamgu slid down her throat. Morsels of soft bread and salted butter helped, too.

  Drifting off to sleep, Elizabeth started dreaming of being fired by Carl two Saturdays ago. Her heart pounded in her ears and her breathing became rough again. She went over every word of the conversation.
How dare he? She was taking their work at Juluwik seriously, while he, while he…arrgh! How would she uncover the full story behind the ballplayer now?

  The rest of the week passed fitfully. Elizabeth tried watching DVDs of her favourite TV shows, but was too distracted to enjoy them. She picked at a get-well-soon basket of fruit from Lynton and Nathan. She drank one soup after another. Mostly she slept, waking each time from unsettling dreams.

  There were still no emails from Luke, but then he was out in the field. There was an email from Alice, though, sent a week after Elizabeth became ill:

  Hi Elizabeth

  Thank you for sending through your data. Carl said you were too busy to keep working on the Olmec remains, which is a shame, because I really wanted to work on them with you.

  I should have the results of the first tests soon, which I’d like to go over with you if you have any time? Maybe in two weeks?

  Thank you again and regards,

  Alice

  Carl was such a liar! And if Elizabeth couldn’t work on the remains, no way was she helping anyone else do it. Except…the thought of those women and children being misrepresented in print forever was awful. What could she do? Think, think…

  Of course: she could do exactly as Alice asked. By working with Alice, she could ensure the remains were analysed properly. There would be no recognition for her, though. After the initial paper that Carl had already submitted, Elizabeth’s name wouldn’t appear on any more publications about the Olmec population.

  Elizabeth felt a little strange. Putting her family’s needs ahead of her own was one thing, but helping Alice do the work Elizabeth was banned from, simply because it was the right thing to do, was going a step further.

  This was probably one of those ‘maturing’ moments that Taid went on about. Elizabeth sighed: she hated being so predictable.

  — —

  By Sunday, Elizabeth was deemed well enough to attend breakfast in the conservatory.

  After the matinee movie, Elizabeth followed Taid to his library. It looked so lovely outside, bright and sunny. Elizabeth opened the French doors to the library’s courtyard. Cold air hit her lungs, causing her to double over, heaving. She closed the doors with regret.