by Paul Heron
‘Okay, let’s go. My body’s crying out for some food. I haven’t eaten all day.’
Michael took one last look around. ‘I’m definitely coming back here.’ He pulled Abbe to his feet and crouched down so the he could climb back on.
‘Why was Eduardo kidnapped?’ Abbe asked.
Drenched in sweat and gasping for air, Michael answered, ‘It’s a long story, and you won’t believe it, but I’ll entertain you with what is now my life. It all started on Friday at an art gallery in England... Eduardo and I, along with five others brought new meaning to: growing up too fast, or losing our youth...’
Before Michael could say another word, Abbe interrupted. ‘There it is!’ he pointed at a towering tree with a tar-black trunk. It looked like something from a horror movie, like something evil lived within it; even the leaves were black, as if charred. ‘I’ve heard them talk about the leaves, something on the leaves they turn into liquid. They were testing it on animals. Then they planned on testing us, humans with it.’
‘Have they tested you?’ Michael looked at Abbe, wondering was he about to become some Fomorian monster. ‘The people making decisions for our world are under its influence.’ Michael remembered the recent UN meeting in Austria, and the Irish politicians who were meeting for talks in Mexico that week. He wondered what they’d be doing there in Mexico, of all places. What was so important that Irish politicians were compelled to meet there?
‘My grandfather told us many stories about this tree when we were growing up, how it changes people, how it’s got a magical power like nothing else in this world. And you’re telling me that the world leaders are under its control?’
Michael nodded, not surprised to see Abbe’s sceptical reaction.
‘This could be bad,’ Abbe whispered, as if afraid to speak the words. ‘I mean, if these men control the people that run the world, then...’
‘It’s already bad, yes. And yes, it seems we’re abut to be taken over by the same people who kidnapped you and Eduardo.’
‘They kidnapped me because I found out where they were making the drug one morning as I helped my father harvest our crops.’
‘Do you really want to know why we’re here? Eduardo and another friend built a device, and with this device, we heard a top-secret government conversation.’ Michael made sure to keep out all of the magic parts of the story.
‘How?’
‘A lady has proven to me, and my friends that none of us are normal. I just hope our abnormalities will be enough. I don’t want to die. And I like the world the way it is.’ He untied the bottle of liquid from his leg.
‘What is that?’ Abbe asked.
‘I hope this will destroy the tree.’ Michael grinned, pouring it into the soil. ‘No more spawn of the Dark Lord.’ He jumped up, snatching a bunch of leaves from one of the low-hanging branches. ‘Lets see what exactly we’re up against with this stuff.’ He forced the leaves into his pocket and watched the liquid seep into the ground. He smiled, realising he had ticked off one of his tasks. Now all he had to do was get back to the group and make that broadcast.
‘Hopefully, this works. Now we’ve got to get out of here. If they catch us and find out what we’ve just done...’ He crouched back down. ‘Climb on, quick!’ he said determinedly. ‘Things as I know them are about to get a lot more serious.’
Three quarters of an hour later, they arrived at the mountainous area of Chiapas, where Abbe’s village was located. Exhausted, Michael’s clothes clung to him. He breathlessly asked Abbe, ‘Are you sure those men from the camp don’t know you live here?’
‘They know I’m part of a tribe, but they don’t know which tribe.’
As they walked into the centre of the village, a boy, dressed like Abbe, came running out of a house.
‘Abbe!’ he yelled, dashing towards them. ‘Where have you been?’ The lad’s face radiated joy. He pulled Abbe from Michael’s back.
Abbe dropped like a dead weight and screamed in agony, so loud that birds startled and flew from the surrounding trees.
‘Great,’ Michael said sarcastically as he watched Abbe on the ground crying. This wasn’t the kind of attention he’d want to attract before he was introduced to the locals.
As if right on cue, they came out of their houses, sticks in their hands ready to fight. Three charged for Michael.
‘No, stop! He’s my friend!’ Abbe shouted in between agonising cries.
But the three were so enraged they didn’t pay any attention to Abbe, continuing to charge for Michael.
Michael took a bamboo stick from one of them and fought off the other two.
‘Stop it, he’s my friend!’ Abbe repeated to his tribesmen.
‘Is he one of them?’ A lady screamed desperately as she ran across the yard towards them.
‘Mom!’ Abbe yelled back. He lay with his arms in the air reaching towards the furious and frantic lady.
‘What the hell have you done to my boy!’ she yelled.
Michael continued to defend himself, tiring out more and more as the men continued to swing their weapons.
‘Stop!’ came an older, familiar voice. ‘I know this man.’ It was Abbe’s grandfather – Antonio.
Michael dropped the stick. His arms fell to his sides. ‘Antonio. I’m happy to see you! I need something to eat and some water. Then I’ll go.’
‘Who is this man?’ Abbe’s mother asked.
‘He helped me escape,’ Abbe said. ‘He’s my friend. His name is Michael.’
She looked at Michael, her expression lifted. ‘How can I? No, I could never thank you enough for bringing me my son. But, how did you?’
In contrast to Abbe’s mother’s, Antonio’s expression dropped. ‘Should we expect trouble?’
‘No!’ Michael gasped as he sat on the ground, sweating like a racehorse that had just won the Grand National.
Abbe’s mother approached him, took him by both hands. ‘Bless you. I can’t believe my boy is home. I’ll be forever grateful to you. Thank you. Really, thank you!’ Her hands were trembling as she held Michael’s.
Michael didn’t know how to react.
She bent down and kissed him on the cheek, then turned her gaze back to Abbe who was on his feet using two of the tribesmen as crutches. ‘My name is Babette. I am Abbe’s mother.’
‘Thank you, all I ask is that you help me find a way to charge my phone, so I can contact my friends. And I need food, please. Lots of food.’ He rubbed his belly.
‘You will find everything you need in Palenque, Michael. Come with me,’ she took him by the hand towards her house. ‘First, you need to rest, and then you will be fit to leave. We will feed you and wash your clothes.’
‘Thank you.’
Michael was used to living in an urban concrete jungle like Belfast, and Little Camberly was tranquil in comparison to his home city, but this? This was tranquil even in comparison to Little Camberly.
The villagers all wore the same white tunics with brown leather sandals. Abbe’s mother wore a long-beaded necklace of bright colours. Both men and women had long, dark hair, and some of the women wore beads in their hair.
After everyone had calmed down, Michael sat down and watched Abbe’s mother as she chopped wood for the fire. Their house had a concrete floor, brick walls, and a straw roof. Antonio’s house, on the other hand, had a dirt floor – no concrete, just earth – with wooden walls and a straw roof. They lived directly next door, and Michael caught a glimpse inside as he was led to Abbe’s house.
None of the houses had TV or radio. Michael forgot there were still civilisations like this in the world. It made him realise how little people truly needed to be happy.
‘Would you like to have a look around our village while I prepare some food?’ Babette said.
‘I’m going back to the lagoon we just seen.’ He looked at Babette, then Abbe.
‘Can you find your own way?’ Abbe said.
‘Yes,’ Michael smiled. ‘I want to swim in that water.’
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WHEN HE FINISHED HIS swim, Michael showered under the waterfall of “El Chiflon”, where the lagoon met the cave. The natural shower was cold; he had goose bumps on his arms. With his eyes closed, he pointed his face up towards the downpour.
‘Michael.’ A female’s voice echoed in his ear, coming from behind.
He turned, and through the waterfall, he seen a lady, dressed in modern day clothing. She stood on the other side of the wall of water, on the edge of the cave. ‘Come here, Michael.’
He shook his head. ‘Who are you?’ He found the lady attractive, she was beautiful. She had waist length rose gold hair, draped over her porcelain coloured face. Her eyes were light blue. Intense, but not frightening.
‘I am Danu, mother goddess of Tuatha de Danann. The gods have sent me here to talk to you.’
‘Think I’ve heard enough,’ Michael said. He stepped through the water, onto the edge of the cave. He approached her, wiping water from his eyes.
‘A war is coming, Michael. A war between The Fomorians and The Tuatha de Danann is about to begin. You need to stop that war from spilling into this world. The earthly realm is in danger of falling to the darkness. It must not happen.’
‘What shall we do?’
‘Remove the people from power in this world. It is too late for them, but not for the human race. The Goddess of Creation...’
‘You mean Elisabetta Sirani?’
She nodded. ‘Is counting on you.’
A crack of thunder shook the ground, stones fell from the roof of the cave. Michael’s head shot around in shock. ‘I’ve got to go, Michael. The gods cannot spend much time in this realm. It weakens us.’
‘But...’
Another crack of thunder came and she disappeared.
Michael went back to the shower, and stood under the water, letting it massage him. It was too late for the world leaders. But how the hell would they be removed from power?
Abbe, feeling better and able to walk after some rest, crept up behind Michael, surprising him whilst his eyes were closed, pushing him back into the water. Michael, deep in thought, jolted with shock.
‘You waited until my back was to you before pushing me in?’ he shouted, ‘that’s fair. I’ll get you back.’
Abbe reached down to pull Michael back onto the rock. ‘Don’t kid a kidder,’ Michael said, dragging a fully dressed Abbe into the water.
‘Michael, I can’t swim, my ankle, my ankle!’
‘Oh, you need help now?’ Michael teased. ‘I’m sorry; I think I’m a bit too tired to help.’
‘I’m sorry!’ Abbe fought to tread water.
Just behind Abbe, a tall thin lady with shoulder length brown hair, dressed like the rest of the tribe, removed her leather sandals. She signalled with a finger on her lips for Michael to ignore her as she stepped into the lagoon. Her face was mischievous, and soon she disappeared underwater.
Michael wondered what she was up to.
‘Crocodile!’ Michael shouted, pointing his trembling hand behind Abbe.
Abbe spun around in the water, looking for any sign it, his head whipped left to right. His mouth was open so wide he couldn’t help but swallow bucket loads of water. He screamed and choked. Something scraped his leg. ‘Michael, PLEASE!’ he screamed.
Eventually, Michael grabbed Abbe’s hand, having mercy on him he dragged him out of the water.
Abbe realised that the “crocodile’s” teeth had been the lady’s sharp nails.
‘You’re evil!’ Abbe shouted, complaining that he was still traumatised by Bella from the Mancini camp.
‘That’s what you get for leaving us and causing us all to worry so much,’ she grabbed him playfully. ‘Mother is preparing an early dinner for you, Michael. She is preparing Mayan ceviche and prawns. Mamma would like to show you our gratitude...’ she looked up at Michael from the water, her brown eyes looking deeply into his. Michael thought she was gorgeous. ‘My name is Callie, and this little rascal is my brother.’
‘Nice to meet you. Let’s go, I’m starving,’ Michael said.
He ran from the rocks that surrounded the pool and leapt into the air, catching a tree branch and using his swing to launch himself onto the beach. It felt amazing to be free in the secluded world he found himself.
‘Here, wear this until we wash and dry your clothes.’ Callie handed Michael a white tunic.
‘Thanks,’ he pulled on the woolen garment. He had much more freedom to move in the garment than in his suit.
Back at the village, Michael was treated like royalty. Everyone was grateful to see Abbe. They thanked Michael for doing what they didn’t have the courage to do – go into the camp for him.
Seeing an elderly lady working on her own, Michael approached her. He didn’t know why, but he felt compelled to approach her. Almost as if he was being guided. ‘It’s really interesting to watch you work.’ He sat next to her.
‘Thank you,’ she said, focusing on her craft. ‘Yes, the way we live, and work is an important part of our cultural heritage. Our customs.’
‘This is my grandmother,’ Abbe said, taking a seat next to Michael. ‘Dinner is ready!’
‘Go, have your food.’ The lady stood and took Michael’s hand. ‘I’m Aaliyah.’
‘Pleased to meet you. You’re not eating with us? After such a long walk through the jungle with your grandson on my back, I could eat enough for three people,’ he laughed.
She laughed. ‘Eat all you need.’ She stroked Michael’s face and smiled, looking into his eyes. ‘We’re so grateful that you brought Abbe back. There was a time when we all thought we would never see him again. You have done something which our people will never forget. You are a friend of the Mayan people,’ she said, giving them both a kiss on the cheek. ‘Now go and eat. I will see you later,’ she looked deeply into his eyes. ‘You have so much responsibility, for such a young man. I wish you well on your journey, Michael. You will one day be remembered for what you will do.’
Michael felt spooked. How did she just read his mind? He scrubbed the thought from his mind, more interested in filling his belly.
At the dinner table, Abbe’s father – also called Abbe – stood up and cleared his throat, ready to give a speech. It reminded Michael of George’s speech at the gallery. He was hopeful that it didn’t follow with the same impact.
‘Today is a day many of us thought might never come. Today, we celebrate the return of our son, grandson, friend and brother - Abbe. For this, we are eternally grateful. We also celebrate our new friend. A friend of the Mayan people.’
Michael felt his cheeks go warm. Inside, he was still that timid sixteen-year-old boy, not much older than Abbe. ‘Please,’ he said, taking a sip of water. ‘Abbe helped me as much as I helped him. He was very brave. The only reason I had to carry him through the jungle was because he injured himself doing something dangerous - something that I suggested.’ He cleared his throat, looking up at Abbe Snr. ‘But thank you.’
He looked around the table to see Abbe’s sister, his mother, and Antonio, all sharing the same gratitude for Abbe’s freedom.
Michael sat at the end of the table beside Antonio. He listened intently as the wise man talked about the people who kidnapped Abbe, the Mancini agents. Of course, Antonio didn’t know who they were by name; he just referred to them as “those evil men in suits”.
‘I see the other folks around here have a massive amount of respect for you.’ Michael took another drink. ‘I seen how commanding you were in the jungle. Why?’
‘I am the last spiritual elder of this tribe,’ Antonio said. ‘I don’t care about commanding and leading people. My only wish, before I leave this world, is for my legacy to be carried on, and our culture to spread across the world. I think maintaining our cultural roots is important. Not only for us, Michael, but also for mankind.’ He sipped from his cup of water. ‘We must all remember where we came from and have respect for those who helped us get here. Those who have gone before us - if it weren’t for them,
our traditions would never have survived.’ He placed his hand on top of Michael’s. ‘I suspect, you are now aware of your role in the world, Michael. You have a great responsibility. I wish you well. For all our sake.’
Michael found his words uplifting and true. He could have listened to Antonio speak all night. He had a great storyteller tone, with that mature knowledge, like a human encyclopedia. Part of him wished he could live with them for a while, but he knew he couldn’t run away from his duty. Hearing those words from Antonio gave him confidence. A sense of responsibility.
After dinner, Michael decided to walk off the meal by exploring the village. He’d fallen in love with the place. He stood looking up at the tree tops, swaying gently in the wind.
‘Are you okay?’ Callie said.
Michael nodded his head. ‘I’m just amazed by this place. It’s beautiful.’
The setting sun bathed the scene in tangerine tones. They watched two howler monkeys fighting with each other high in the trees.
‘What is Ireland like?’ She asked.
‘It’s beautiful,’ Michael said, still watching the monkeys. ‘Really beautiful.’
Abbe and his friend, chasing a dog around in the distance, dragged his attention away from the trees. They lived such a simple life. They didn’t have designer clothes or computer games, or even a TV, yet they all seemed happy; happy to be running around in the dirt with a dog.
‘Would you like to see some of the jungle before you leave?’ Callie asked.
‘Lead the way!’
They turned their backs on the boys, and strolled towards the pathway that would lead them deeper into the jungle. ‘How long until it gets dark?’ Michael asked, following Callie’s lead.
She looked up as if there was a clock in the sky. ‘We have around one hour.’
He loved that their days were so relaxed, that they never seemed to be in a rush. Everything was connected to nature. People out there in the world could learn a lot from this beautiful tribe.
Chapter Eleven