by Parris Match
Oocaie; nearly standing-up, inside the low thatch-domed ceiling of the oval lodge, describes the arduous climb in animated detail, with wild waving of his arms and hands. ‘The brothers coaxing and pulling their reluctant brothers, raising each corpulent fat boar; brother arm lifting, pushing this grunting brother by his plump indecent rump; heaving each languishing bum to a higher level, up and over the critically nicked rock walls. Climbing higher and higher and higher, scrambling up the solid-stone precarious trunk of the turned granite mountain giants’ body. Hardly stopping to rest, the brothers climbed ever upward, through the difficult sheer perimeter of the white-bearded hardheaded mountain goats, reaching above the highest relinquishing tree line, into the almost barren, stony lichen covered, upper loft of the majestic spired peaks.
Triumphs quick whooping celebration, on bravely gaining the bracing adjacent jagged summits, nearly the top of the mountain; on passing through one narrow gap, between two of the three towering snow covered granite peaks; the nether land of the sleeping Spirits was suddenly revealed to the stumbling exhausted brothers.
This opposite altitude of the mountain range descended quickly, terminally declining into the lower definite hem of squat foothills; rainfall neglected mountainside and foothills, dull yellow-grey, sparsely covered in withered waxen scrub. Beyond…, a flat senseless lowermost desert, so vast, you saw nothing in the distance but a seamless blanket of golden sand, disappearing into a fathomless golden haze, defining neither where their real earth ended, or their apparent blue sky meet; a capturing overlook view, possessive, engulfing, golden pyrite of illusion.
Dacoh abruptly stood on the brink of hell, in dumb-struck silent awe, staring into the hopeless golden nothingness; with no frame of reference, it filled him with overwhelming dread, the deep-pitted urge to bolt and run away. Feeling frightened and vacant to his core, he raised his arms and spear high into the air, vigorously stomped his feet, howling at the top of his lungs, in utter stubborn defiance; Dacoh shook his spear with no concession to the presence of the immense desert tomb. Following Dacoh’s daring expression, the other brothers started mimicking his conspicuous challenge, howling and chanting to the portentous evil Spirits, until all the silly brothers dropped in exhaustion, falling to the ground laughing.
Oocaie, still somewhat standing to the side in the wickerup, comically parodied the howling and the chanting, waving his arms and wildly stomping his feet, for all to witness this ridiculous audacious act. The brothers whooped at Oocaie’s performance of the well-animated story; of the visit upon the lifeless golden realm, where the mystical evil consuming Spirits, never seemingly sleep.
Hoocoh got up from where he sat, in deference to the whole brotherhood, and exited the wickerup; but soon returned with a tight armful of firewood, placing it close to the fire, and seated himself again, in back of the clustered group of brothers.
Eeboh took a stick, slowly brought the charred pieces of wood and embers together, added new firewood, and began his story;
“I, Eeboh, will tell you the story of the Stranger from the South”. Although a somewhat recent event, all stories were told and retold, by every man of the tribe. Eeboh continued, holding up his open-fingered hand; “Five brothers were told by Ahcoo’ah to visit the only outward gate of the valley, late, late in spring, well-past the time The unclean Rabbit People had migrated to the north. Upon crossing the comfort of their fertile valley, they entered and left the open gate, after passing through the narrow covert crack in their escarpment; circuited the lifeless lake, and on nearing the outer boundary of their territory, always vigilant of any hint or indication of trespass, the brothers arrived at the edge of the primitive desert”.
Resting, keeping close watch on the uncivilized enemies land, the lolling languid brothers sat next to the halting tripod; the fluttering three-footed sign, warning The Rabbit People to stay away from their valley. They easily examined the notice of trespass for worn or rotted tie-downs, replacing what was necessary; for it must stand for all time; an unmistakable forewarning to The Rabbit People, not to disrespect their confident claim.
As the light breeze changed directions, the brothers smelled a disgusting putrid stink, carried by the telltale breath of the motive Spirits. Not able to easily identify the foul odor, they arose and deliberately walked towards the seat of the wind to investigate. Walking a short distance, down and across a dry shallow wash, encircling a low fresh blown sand dune, they came upon the cause of the reeking putrefying stench. Laying spread against the wind swept dune was a larger strange alien man; looking like no other, the brothers had ever seen or been told about.
The clothes covering his body were especially peculiar, a heavily stained whitish shirt with puffy sleeves and open collar, full-cut maroon pantaloons below the knee, with nothing covering his lower legs and bared fungal feet. The Stranger’s head was covered with thick black, matted hair, falling below his shoulders. A slimed beard and moustache concealed the greater part of his face; and dense curly black chest hair was revealed through the opening in his shirt. It was observed that the bottom of the man’s feet were not burned or bleeding; being uncovered, as they were, how did he get to this place?
Then the brothers took notice, how the ground had been spoiled in the surrounding area, rocks out of place, small bushes and plants broken and crushed; the natural surface of the earth, near the peculiar man, in a trampled disorder. The brothers crouched in a semi-circle around this rotting carcass, inquisitive gabbling over this grotesque human-like splotch, not taking their eyes away, from the captivating outlandish prostrate body, of this strange whole spirit or foreign being. Suddenly…, odd gibberish sounds and low moans came from the strangers protuberant tongue-stuffed mouth, unintelligible interpretation or pleading, they did not know; cautious but curious, lightly taken aback, the brothers all stayed crouched around the flaccid sour carrion, silently watching the body of the man twitch and retch, opaque milky spittle running past his swollen bulbous tongue over his charred dirty cracked lips.
Caado broke the silence saying, “Ahcoo’ah will know”, Aieca chimed, and “He will tell us”. Still crouching together, over this strange offensive man, the flawed disastrous decision was made and voiced; “We must deliver this strange man to Ahcoo’ah”.
From the deer hides, commonly caped over their shoulders, and their spears; the brothers made a doubled hefty sling to support and carry the mysterious stranger back to Ahcoo’ah. The man was an unusually bulky heavy load, but the brothers fairly traded positions to ease their weighty circumstance. Softly to circle the dead lake, returning on a different course, carefully stepping from un-crusted curbstone to un-crusted curbstone, leaving an overburdened minute trace of their anxious passing. Going beneath the ignored blemish of the unconcerned skeletal spectators, draped over their roseate sandstone display, the brothers entered the angled unseen fracture in the wall of the grand escarpment. The trip through the rough stile-gate was difficult and wearisome, transporting the near lifeless unwieldy dripping gunny over the challenging jumbled barriers in their path. Lifting the leaking sack up the huge boulders, thru the twisting narrow crevices, climbing and descending the unstable hills of rock/clay and sand, was an arduous and debilitating task for the well-meaning brothers. Foul smelly fecal odor, brownish / yellowish syrupy secretion, seeping body fluids from the quivering-gel of the stinking hulk, permeating the suspended deerskin-hide of the shoulders supported sling. The immovable rank heat trapped in the air-less narrow gully; lugging this wet suffocating stinking cargo, made this determined journey almost unbearable.
Nearing the final threshold to the clean uncontaminated valley, a sudden draft of cooler fresh air, sorely lessened their strained senses. The later afternoon Sun temporarily blinded the brothers as they exited the tight confines of the canyon-gate and burst into the well-illuminated valley. Carrying the stranger up and through the graveled wash, gladly relieved of the arduous distance covered, on reaching where the two split paths converge; the unwitting duti
ful brothers, exhaling an accomplished performers’ sigh, continued down the deep-rooted and well-established worn single pathway towards their safe little village in the valley.
On entering the village, members of the tribe crowded around them murmuring and jabbering; overly curious as to whatever, the brothers had carried into their midst. The brothers proceeded to the men’s meeting circle; placed their foul-smelling burden on the ground, and removed their spears from the sling; the wrapped splotchy body flopping uncovered and askew for all to see. The bestirred men of the tribe pressed in closer and closer to inspect this unprecedented sight; while the women warily stood outside of the men’s customary inclosure of the ordained circle of rocks, excited and confused nosey onlookers, whispering amongst themselves.
Caado spoke, “Ask Ahcoo’ah, Ahcoo’ah will know”.
Ahcoo’ah entered the circle from the backside of a near lodge, within farsighted earshot, aroused from his sitting old man’s nap. The men separated to make a corridor to the sprawling fetid viral blight and curse that the naive brothers had foolishly brought amongst their people. Ahcoo’ah somewhat casually walked-up to the strange man of a kind laying on the ground; looking down on this nightmares’ vision, an inner tremor of abhorrence and foreboding surged through his prophetic aged body. The unknown was a fearful thing, an unexplainable inkling could be even worse; but Ahcoo’ah must not show his, flood of fear; quickly curbed, apprehension in front of his people. Regaining his concealed composure, The astute Story Teller, calmly declared, indicating with an open thumb-less wave of his hand; “Take this gentle stranger, to the Men’s Lodge-house”; “I…, Ahcoo’ah, will tend to him”.
Four brothers stepped forward, each taking a corner of the deer hide, lifting the blubbery prostrate dangling body, clumsily moving this into the men’s Lodge, as Ahcoo’ah had directed. Ahcoo’ah instructed the brothers to bring a bundle of firewood, an ember from a burning fire, gourds filled with water, a large wide bowl, and pieces of scraped-clean split deerskin. After receiving what he had requested, Ahcoo’ah bent, then entered and protectively closed the thin straw-mat flap on the opening into the wickerup. Latter days-light filtered down from the circular weaved smoke-hole, in the center of the thatch ceiling; through a speckled dusty haze, slighted light beams swirled throughout the darkness of this chosen Lodge. Ahcoo’ah stood motionless within, trapped in his bated ignorance, not knowing what to do.
Standing alone, frozen in time, Ahcoo’ah finally came back to his senses; the stench coming from the strangers body crowded the confined space of the wicker Lodge, the oppressive stink invading his nostrils; so thick a smell, it stuck in his throat, he could feel disgust crawling on his skin. Ahcoo’ah squatted cross-legged next to the body, surreptitiously evaluating this sudden repugnant situation, hardly breathing or moving, carefully watching the critical stranger who lay in front of him.
Turning towards the side of the fire-pit, with both hands he picked up a few small pieces of dry firewood, placed them together in the firepit, put a tiny amount of thatch underneath, set the smoking ember within the thatch, and began blowing on the ardent to glowing coal. Soon a small flame began, a thin trail of smoke languidly rose through the hole in the ceiling, and Ahcoo’ah added more fresh firewood. The ordinary task of starting a proper fire, calmed Ahcoo’ah, and he turned back to soberly observe the offensive reeking stranger.
With slow caution, Ahcoo’ah, hesitantly reached for and touched the clothes covering the body of the man. The feel of the material, as well as the color, even in this dull light, fascinated him. The body of the man suddenly trembled. Startled, Ahcoo’ah quickly withdrew his hand. After waiting a few moments, reassured that the body was quiet again, Ahcoo’ah filled a bowl with water from a gourd, reached for a section of deer skin, wetted the skin in the bowl, then putting the wetted skin to lips of the stranger, wiped the whitish foam away from his mouth. Each motion Ahcoo’ah went through was acutely difficult; everything he did must be done with both hands. With no thumbs, he could not grasp or hold-on to very much.
Picking up the gourd he dribbled some water onto the man’s mouth, most of the water running off to the side and down his crusted filthy beard; the stranger’s pasted tongue and lips allowing no water to pass. Wetting the deer skin again, Ahcoo’ah dabbed around his closed eyes, clearing away the coating of dirt that had accumulated within their sunken dark sockets. When Ahcoo’ah was cleaning the strangers eyes he noticed the thin strip of leather buried within the skin folds of the man’s neck; hooking two fingers under the strip, Ahcoo’ah gently pulled; out popped a wooden object, concealed beneath this stranger’s shirt.
Night settled onto the abiding village. A small number of fires were lit and the people huddled closer together to await the re-appearance of their reliable Ahcoo’ah.
The flickering light coming through the few cracks in the tight weaved Lodge, where Ahcoo’ah and the Stranger were hidden from their sight; even more the steady focal point for every member of the remaining family, all eyes anxiously waiting for the Story Tellers’ reassuring resolution.
Routinely but sparingly feeding the small feeble fire, Ahcoo’ah watched over the body of the stranger, trying repeatedly to offer slight water to him, by dabbing his mouth with the wetted deer skin. The stranger’s body suddenly began to quiver and twitch; soft moans from an injured child, sporadically coming from his trembling lips; Ahcoo’ah leaned in closer, to peer upon his grim tortured face. Without a flicker or warning, his eyes popped open wide, staring at the alarmed Ahcoo’ah. Ahcoo’ah’s head jerked back; the searching frightened eyes of the bloat-impaired man, pleadingly following his startled retreat. Slowly, with enormous effort, the man’s lips parted, swollen tongue still gorging the mouthful, his hand sliding slightly, reaching for the available Ahcoo’ah. The sound from the man’s mouth came abruptly with strained guttural force; looking intently at Ahcoo’ah, he blubberingly cried out, “Rodrigo”, hesitated for an empty moment and repeated; voice filled with charge and complaint, “Rodrigo”. His body began shaking violently, a gurgling rattle emanating from his throat, and the mystical Stranger, quickly, unceremoniously died.
Ahcoo’ah sat cross-legged in bewilderment, not knowing what to do, not knowing what to tell his people; he sat for a long time thinking of how he would explain this strange hostile outsider, the messenger of upheaval, to his brothers and sisters.
Ahcoo’ah threw back the grass fiber matting, covering the opening to the Lodge-house, and stepped out into the common area. The cool fresh air of the night shocked him, for his concentration had been on the Stranger; and he had put aside the fetid smell of the leaking body fluids of the stinking stranger, from inside the polluted and putrefied wickerup. Ahcoo’ah walked near enough to the middle of the meeting circle, a needed bonfire burned brightly in the fire-pit; amber, foreground and backdrop, firelight defining his presence. The people of the village in mute modest silence surrounded him, sitting on the ground; the men, inside the circle of rocks; the women remaining outside; the children safely not present.
Ahcoo’ah began, “ The Stranger is dead”; then pointing in that dark direction, “ The Stranger is from a people who live far to the south, as told of, in ancient times”; and ended, lowering his voice,“ From the time of the wicked Iicoo’ah”. The people gasped at the mention of the name, IICOOAH, for he represented all that was evil and corrupted, in the ruptured history of The Forgotten Ones. Ahcoo’ah continued; “This Stranger, from the south, had he lived, would have brought disaster and chaos to our peaceful valley”. Then Ahcoo’ah held up the object he had removed from the stranger’s neck, the piece of carved wood held by the strip of leather, for the people to see. The dim faltering light from the fire, did not allow the brothers and sisters, to see clearly the thing Ahcoo’ah dangled from his outstretched hand.
Ahcoo’ah vehemently declared;
“This wooden image, coming from the people far to the south, is a symbol of the evil Spirit, a sign of wickedness, a foretold threat of
destruction, to our people”. With solemn pronouncement, Ahcoo’ah continued, with outstretched arms, the palms of his hands facing upwards; “We the people of The Forgotten Ones”, indicating the direction of the escarpment, he went on, “ will wait for the Sun/Spirit to appear in his rising glory”, “ We will not sleep in the presence of this Evil”, “ All of the people of the village, will take the body of the Stranger to the burning ground”, “We are together, in ridding this dark and vile misery from our land”, “So say I, Ahcoo’ah, Story Teller of the people known as the Forgotten Ones”. Finishing, Ahcoo’ah sat on another rock from where he stood, the wooden object laying in the muddled sand beside him; and he and the people dutifully waited for the bright Sun Spirit to rise over the grand escarpment.
An unclear thin golden aura of hazy light broke over the timely jagged rim of the notched escarpment, while the induced people of the village stood and prepared themselves for the grave task that was necessary for this early day. Leaving the infirm and very-young members of the family behind, and a few additional brothers to watch over the village, the rest of the tribe started down the trail to the sacred burning ground. Ahcoo’ah led, his people following, with four brothers carrying the stinking corpse at a far distance behind; not as a member of the tribe would he be honored, but only as an austere duty, that must be performed.