It was about mid-day and Iztali’s section was leading, Yochi, Eztli, and I just behind, when Eztli raised his fist. “Stop!” he said softly. “Be quiet.” We sent the order down to the approaching Warriors and very soon everyone had halted and the jungle was silent. Eztli had his head angled upwards, his nostrils sniffing the air.
“What is it?” I asked.
“Hach-k’ek’ens,” he answered. “Up ahead.” Momentarily, I wondered how Choc had not picked up the scent also.
The word spread quickly down the rank and as I looked around, the Warriors began to disappear soundlessly to the right and left, in order to encircle the drove Eztli had indicated was there. I heard the moaning sounds, and barks, and knew Eztli was right. Iztali’s section, Yochi, Eztli, and I did not move, afraid that any sound from us would alert the animals. The animals were noisy, probably foraging for anything they could find.
There was a loud bark, a warning of impending danger, followed by several more and the herd of hach-k’ek’ens were running through the jungle at all angles. At first, there were mainly the reddish-brown younger ones running past us, then the more mature ones, then the full-grown greyish-black adults. I saw one of the adults coming directly at me, its razor-sharp tusks protruding from its cheeks. I barely had time to lift and bring down my maquahuitl. I heard its head crack and it fell to the jungle floor. The Warriors were whooping Uwa-Uwa-Roarrr! Uwa-Uwa-Roarrr! both men and hach-k’ek’ens tearing at the jungle, the hunters and the hunted. Once I even heard Hulse’s flippin cloth dog and I smiled as I took off after a large boar. I lifted my maquahuitl then froze. The hach-k’ek’en stood up on its hind legs and turned to face me. I stared into the blood red eyes and the fierce, cruel, and white face of the Hach-‘ek’en Ajchaq’e.243 It immediately recognized me and spittle foamed from its angry mouth as it hurled itself at me. I felt myself being thrust forcibly to one side, landing among a heap of broken branches and against a tree covered with prickles, Eztli on top of me. He jumped off, bringing up his bate’, as the Hach-k’ek’en Ajchaq’e screamed a bloodcurdling cry when three ch’abs entered his flank. The fleeing hach-k’ek’ens stopped, the Warriors stopped, and the jungle fell absolutely silent. Then the hach-k’ek’ens attacked and we were fighting for our lives.
“Into the trees,” shouted Eztli, above the shouts and war-whoops of the Warriors and the horrific barks and moans of the hach-k’ek’ens. “I do not think these hach-k’ek’ens are normal.”
I looked at my jungle for a place of refuge. I speedily jumped onto a thick broken limb that leaned against a larger tree and reached up to one of the tree’s lower branches, pulling myself up. The maneuver was done not only to escape, but to get as good a vantage point as I could. Some of the Warriors tried to do the same, but the broken tree limbs did not always help as they also hindered quick movement. The debris also sheltered the hach-k’ek’ens, obstructing the view of the Warriors shooting their sk’ops, or trying to pierce them with their bate’s, or club them with their maquahuitls.
Ixtli, a woman Warrior from Iztali’s section, was squirming on the ground, two hach-k’ek’ens ripping into her thighs with their tusks. Choco and Clarke were using their long bate’s to fight off the animals. It was not until ch’abs entered the two hach-k’ek’en flanks, going completely through their bodies that they howled frenzied barks and tore into the bushes. Choco jumped to a limb above him and reached for Ixtli as Clarke pulled her off the jungle floor. She continued screaming in terror as he pushed her up to Choco who had reached down for her. Choco got her onto a heavy branch then immediately wrapped his legs securely around it. He stretched out his arms to Clarke and helped him to safety just before several maddened hach-k’ek’ens began leaping towards them, driven insane by Ixtli’s blood that was still spouting from her wounds.
There were still war-whoops and shouts coming from the Warriors on the jungle floor as those who could not get into the trees continued to fight. Taat and Iuitl were in a tree across from me, but Robertson and Taylor, Choc and another Warrior were fighting back to back against several animals. I was about to give the order for us to leave our positions and help those still on the ground, but, as I looked around, I noted that most of the Warriors were already in the trees and those with sk’ops were finding targets, giving the remaining Warriors the chance to escape into the trees.
Wah-co!-Wah-co!-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha came the crazy laughter of the kos, followed by a roaring cold-blooded bark from the Hach-k’ek’en Ajchaq’e who had not returned to the fighting. The hach-k’ek’ens stilled their assault and the remaining animals of the drove began retreating, moaning viciously as they did. They disappeared into the broken jungle.
“You can come down now,” shouted Eztli.
“Belay that,” I ordered. “We should wait.”
“They won’t be back, Kaloonte’,” continued Eztli. “The Hach-k’ek’en Ajchaq’e is wounded and he knows that many of his drove are dead and injured. He is taking the injured to be nursed. The dead he discards … for us.” He jumped off the tree. “Let’s collect the dead. Food!” he yelled, excitedly. No one moved. He stopped, looked around, then realization marked his face. He turned to face me. “Kaloonte’!” he shouted, hitting his chest, bending his head as an indication of remorse.
“Okay, Warriors,” I bellowed. “Let’s look after our wounded and see how many hach-k’ek’ens we have for dinner tonight.”
“Wait,” said Taat, who Iuitl was helping down. “I want to make sure they are not enchanted, that we can eat them.” He got down and limped over to the first of the dead animals. He examined it, looking closely at its mouth, nose, and eyes. “I see no evidence of enchantment or sickness. That was a normal herd. Only the Hach-k’ek’en Ajchaq’e was enchanted. We can eat.” The Warriors beat their chests, whooping Uwa-Uwa-Roarrr! Uwa-Uwa-Roarrr!
“Are you sure,” asked Eztli.
Taat glared at Eztli. “Yes!”
Here we go again, I thought, remembering Taat and Teul’s early days. I jerked my thoughts away from Teul.
We collected nine dead hach-k’ek’ens and five so severely injured that they could not walk. Eztli took his bate’ and plunged it downward just above the fore-flank and between the shoulder and the side of each animal, directly into the heart, causing blood to gush out as the animal shivered then died.
While some of the Warriors were placing the dead animals together, Anderson came over to me. “We have three casualties that are badly wounded. Ixtli and Matlal have tusks wounds in the legs and thighs. Cipactli has a chest wound, but I don’t think the lung is pierced. There are four others, but the wounds can be attended to later if we have to continue now. Taat and Choc went searching for jungle remedies, but the jungle floor is so damaged from the storm that it is difficult to find helpful ones. Four of the Warriors gave up their loincloths so that I could use them as bandages. I have stopped all the bleeding, but I fear for infections.”
“Do you need to stitch? We could find long enough prickles and make fibers from vines.” I writhed my back, suddenly aware that it was burning intensely. “Fok! I think I have prickles all over my back. That fokin Eztli threw me against a waari kuhoon. He did save me from being wounded or killed, but why out of all the trees around, he had to find one covered with prickles”
Anderson laughed. “That’s Eztli for you. Let me see.” I turned, giving him my back. “There’re only a few broken off into the skin and muscle, but should be easy to remove with the tip of my knife. I don’t think I should leave them in. You do have a lot of puncture wounds and small lacerations, however. Again, I fear infections. Hold still as I get them out.”
“Fok!”, I shouted, as Anderson started digging without any hesitation. I swear I will cut out that little foka’s u-ye’el-toons. When it was over, I returned to my injured Warriors. “So, Anderson. Do any of the wounds need stitching?”
He shook his head. “The wounds are like a dog bite. The tusks and saliva are so filled with bacteria that
stitching the wounds would make things worse. We just stop the bleeding, prevent infection, and keep them lightly bandaged.” He shrugged. “Of course, the bandages are supposed to be clean,” he scoffed. “We’re using dirty loincloths. Well, I suppose Taat and Choc will know what to do.”
“Do what you have to do, but quickly as we have to get going. You have five minutes. He nodded.
Yochi came up to me. “What now, Kaloonte’? The Warriors want to start cleaning the hach-k’ek’ens.”
“We can’t stay here, Yochi. For combat, this zone gives us no strategic advantage. The Hach-k’ek’en Ajchaq’e is angry and wounded. He’s not going to die from those wounds and he may return with more of the Kechelaj Jupuq. Get the Warriors together. Tell them we continue as soon as the wounded are given whatever care we can. We carry the wounded, if necessary, and we carry the hach-k’ek’ens. We’ll make camp at the top of the ridge; then we clean and cook the game.” He nodded and left.
Continuing uphill was difficult and, as we climbed higher, the number of fallen trees increased, some wide areas becoming a deadfall.244 The jungle floor was a mess. Occasionally, we found a water source that was not too muddy and we drank. Carrying the hach-k’ek’ens and helping Ixtli, Cipactli, and Matlal, who were the more severely injured, kept us back some more. As the mountain chain was not very high, however, probably less than two thousand feet, I hoped to reach the summit well before sundown.
We reached the summit without further incident and Anderson, Taat, Choc and Robertson immediately began looking after the casualties whom also included Parham, Eleuia, Nenete, and Iuitl. Taat and Choc had collected as many medicines as they could along the way and I just had to hope that those would help. Most of the trees on the summit had been ripped apart and flattened so some of the Warriors got to work clearing as large a camp site as they could, stocking the trunks and branches along the perimeter to offer some defence. Although most of the brambles were green, they were dry for heavy rain had not fallen for six days and the camp was soon cleared with several fires going. The fires were not large, but produced a lot of smoke due to the green wood. The self-appointed cooks were happy with the smoke, however, as they were going to smoke the game-meat. As soon as the game were skinned and gutted, the cooks began their job. The only thing missing was water, but the track we had made was somewhat clear so, if anyone wanted, he could go back down to one of the creeks we had passed. After what happened with the Hach-k’ek’en Ajchaq’e, however, no one appeared inclined to go. Meat normally had enough juice and the cooks did try to conserve the juice by smoking the meat for a little while only. That meant we would be eating the meat practically raw.
While that was going on. the smoking meat brought back bad memories and I walked to the northern edge of the summit where I sat on a small crag facing north. The expanse of water of Qas Nim Ha’ was visible in the waning light. I heard movement behind me and turned. It was Bas. He came and sat beside me.
“The last time you and I sat on a summit like this, tragedy followed, my friend,” I said to Bas.
“But here we are now. Sometimes things just aren’t what they seem to be,” he replied.
“They don’t turn out the way you think they will,” I said.
Bas chuckled. “You got angry with me because I started talking about Molly Cervantez. Then things changed and you were going to marry her.”
“I will marry her,” I stated, looking at him. Bas nodded, but did not look convinced. “And you Bas? What are you going to do?”
He shrugged his shoulders then stretched, putting his arms in the air and clasping them. “I am in a new world. I am still coming to terms with the fact that I will never return home.”
“You are alive. 1 thought you were gone forever.”
“Perhaps, I should have been. I was prepared to enter the Christian afterlife.” He reached and touched his chest, curling his fingers over a non-existent thing. There was nothing there, but he didn’t seem to notice. “Certainly not this one.”
“Nothing happens without a reason.”
“I’ve tried to hold on to that old saying too, but it’s hard.”
“It is hard, Bas. It will continue to be hard.” I stood up, my nakedness pictured against the setting Kinich Ahau.
He looked up at me. “Look at us; fighting, killing, running around naked and covered in mud … hunted by animals. I just don’t know, my friend.”
“You and I are soldiers, Bas. Even in the other world we would have fought, killed, if we were called to do it. That is what we were trained to do. And running around naked? I have grown used to it and I don’t see anything wrong with it. I don’t want to sound absurd, but God made us as we are. Naked. Are we to hide ourselves, saying to God that we are unhappy with the way God made us? If God didn’t want our toon to hang outside our body, God would have hidden it as God did with some animals, making our toon come out only when we wanted to piss or chakuj tutuchci. I don’t miss clothes. It’s not that I won’t wear some sort of clothes again, it’s just that it won’t mean anything to me. Clothes were made to protect us from the cold, the rain, from the prickles, thorns, and harmful leaves in the jungle, and for our entertainment when we wanted to ‘dress-up’. Cloths were not made to hide our bodies from God and from each other. Because of hiding our nakedness, we have brought many many problems upon ourselves, not only limiting our basic freedoms, but also causing suppression, especially of women … and often in the name of God.”
Bas did not answer for a while as we both stared at Qas Nim Ha’ below as it reflected the dying colors of Kinich Ahau on its surface. “I have always believed that anyone can find reasons for their beliefs, reasons for their action or their lack of action,” challenged Bas. “It is good to keep in mind, however, that if someone else gives another rational reason or explanation for anything, they may be the one who is right.”
“I walk naked among the naked, in a society where nakedness in itself is not offensive. I feel nothing. They feel nothing. I actually feel free, closer to the things that God made and that are good, free from the distortions man call beliefs. Isn’t that the way it should be?”
“You may feel nothing, Chiac, but what about the slave who knows that the only reason he is walking around naked is because he is a slave, the lowest in his society.”
I was not going to get into an argument with Bas, something we rarely did over the many years we spent together, but I wanted to keep talking to him. Recently, I scarcely spoke to anyone. “I must be doing something right, Bas. The Blessed Mother came to me at the Hidden Valley Falls. It was me, Eutimio Chiac, who saw her image in the waterfall. Now I think of it as the Ch’ajch’oj Chiyul, the Sacred Waterfall. It was She who spoke to me and told me to leap into the falls. It was She who saved Molly and me.” Bas looked up at me, confusion on his face. “I didn’t tell you all that part, but I’m telling you now. It was you who gave me this Green Scapular,” I said, and when Molly and I faced death, I held onto it, feeling its warmth as it glowed. “I believe that, Blessed Mother, the Mother of God, Ix Na Li Kawa, is with me throughout my journey … when I fight … when I kill … whether I’m naked or not.”
Bas frowned. “Are you saying we kill with Her blessing?”
“No, Bas. I just said that I feel She’s with me.” I was quiet for a while and Bas kept staring at Qas Nim Ha’. “To survive, I have to accept the world I am in, Bas.” I smiled and added jokingly, “When I return to our world, I will go back to accepting that world, even wear a pants, shot, jraaz, shooz, saks . . .”245
Bas leaned back on his hands and started laughing. “I can just see you in all those clothes again. I think you will be uncomfortable for the rest of your life.” He chuckled. “What am I going to do with my life, Chiac? I don’t want to spend the rest of my life in this world, but if I have to. I don’t want to spend all of it as a Warrior.”
“Molly said that this society was a violent society. She was right, but there’re other aspects t
hat exist. K’an II is trying to develop new principles and since you are out of Xibalba, you can assist him.” Then I remembered what K’awiil Yopaat had told me. I turned to Bas.
“K’awiil Yopaat told me that there is talk of a story that comes from Ox Witz Ha that tells of the Mother of Itzamná. He was referring to Mary, to Ix Na Li Kawa. It was Molly who told K’an II about the Lady of Guadeloupe and the miracle at Tepeyac Hill. Mary was always your … Goddess. Maybe that’s why you’re here, Bas. Maybe that’s why you’re here, my friend.”
He did not answer and appeared to be in deep thinking. “Perhaps that is why you are here, Chiac.”
“Me? Me?”
“Yes, my Brother. You! Perhaps Molly was only a means of getting you here.”
I saw Rhys coming over to us, so I didn’t have a chance to respond, not that I really knew what I would have said. “Hello you two,” he grinned, then frowned. “You two seem to be discussing some serious shit.” We didn’t answer, but I stood. He shrugged his shoulders looking at me. “Yochi said to tell you that some of the meat is ready.”
“Thanks, Rhys,” I answered, stretching my arm out to Bas who was still sitting. He grabbed it and I pulled him up. “Lead the way, Rhys, my friend,” and the three of us walked down to the camp site.
I was pleased to see my Warriors happy, joking, fokin around, as they enjoyed their first meal in several k’iins. They had decided that nothing would interfere with their mood that evening. Even the injured appeared relaxed. When the crazy laughter of the kos, Wah-co!-Wah-co!-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha, came several times from the broken jungle intermixed with the cry from Xwáay Chikoop, Skinny, skinny, yu no know me?, they ignored it.
After I had eaten, I spoke with Yochi, briefly, telling him to arrange a full security detail for guarding us during the night. I then went off to one side as the Warriors had surrounded the fire expressing and cementing their camaraderie. Sometimes, the life of the Platoon Commander had to be lonely. I curled up my naked self, held Bas’ Green Scapular, and prayed to Ix Na Li Kawa that I would sleep and have no dreams and, if I did, it would be about the night at the Hidden Valley Falls and nothing else.
Sisimito III--Topoxte Page 18