Sky People (14 page)

Read Sky People Online

Authors: Ardy Sixkiller Clarke

BOOK: Sky People
3.76Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

“It was morning when I woke up. I saw a sliver of light on the horizon. I looked in the back seat and José and Miguel were there, but I did not recognize them. I had lost my memory. I didn’t even know who I was. I did not know where I was, who I was, or where I was going. I tried to wake the others, but they were unconscious. Javier was lying outside the van on the ground. I saw a car coming toward us. I jumped out and flagged it down. I told the driver that I did not know who I was and needed help. He drove away. On my way back to the van, I picked up Javier and put him in the van behind the steering wheel, and I climbed in the passenger’s side. I worried that he would get hit by a passing car.”

“How did you get home?”

“A policeman came by and took the four of us to the police station. They looked at our papers and discovered our names and address. They took us home and my mother put us to bed. It was several days before we remembered who we were. José remembered first. He said we were abducted by aliens. Gradually our memory returned. My mother thinks we were captured by Devil worshippers, or demons, but we know differently. We were onboard a space craft, and we were led there by the hitchhiker.”

“What happened to Miguel?”

“At first, we didn’t know, but we found out later, as our memories returned, that the police had taken him home to his wife. We worried about him because his wife could be abusive. We worried that she had kicked him out of his house.”

“But he was okay?”

“Yes. She was not speaking to him, though. She thought we were drinking all night with women.” They all laughed at the thought, but I could tell from the facial expressions they exchanged that they sympathized with their cousin.

“When you were onboard the space ship, was there anything that you remember about the craft?”

“I only remember the bright lights. It made it difficult to make out anything about the craft. I think these aliens do not see so well because they had such bright lights. I know that our grandfather says he can see much better when the sun shines. He can only read in the sunshine. He has bad eyes,” José said.

“Can you remember any other thing? Were there odors, sounds—anything else that you have remembered?”

José said, “No sounds. No odors. Just bright lights.”

“I remember a cold mist in one room,” Javier said. “It felt like a silent rain and smelled like rain, but I know it was not rain. I also remember that everything was cold that I touched. It was so cold, it burned. The touch was not something I had felt before. It made me shiver.”

“I remember a humming sound,” Eliseo said. “It was high-pitched. A sound I had never heard before.” All eyes turned to José, who said he had no memories. For the next half hour the trio kept repeating the same information they had already told me. I offered to buy their lunch, and they agreed after I suggested to them that it was a goodwill token for their telling me their stories. During the meal they asked me about the USA. They wanted to know how Indians were treated in Montana. They all spoke of longing to move to the USA even though they knew it was impossible. When Mateo returned, Eliseo suggested that if
I wanted to talk to their cousin, Miguel, that Mateo should first ask permission from his wife, which should allay her jealousy.

When we arrived at Miguel’s house, we got out. We were greeted by five children; the oldest appeared to be no more than six or seven. I climbed in the back and got out a bag of huckleberry taffy and offered it to them along with crayons and coloring books. The oldest took the presents and disappeared around the back of the house with the others in pursuit. I later saw him dividing the contents, carefully counting out piece by piece as he shared equally with his siblings. Miguel’s wife, Sucelly, welcomed us into her home, while Eliseo and Mateo explained to her my reason for being there. When she nodded and smiled, I knew that she was agreeable. We walked through the small, one-room house and joined Miguel in the backyard. Eliseo introduced me.

“I don’t know what I can tell you. I am sure my cousins have told you the whole story.”

“I would like to hear it from you, if you are willing to talk with me.” I saw Miguel glance in the direction of the doorway. Sucelly was standing there.

“They were not friendly. They were evil beings. They were sent by the Devil. They took us without our permission. They did something to our brains so that we would not remember them, but we did. That is what I think. They underestimated the will of Maya men.”

“Would you mind telling me anything you remember about that night?” I asked. As Miguel began to tell his story, it was identical to the story told by his cousins, until he mentioned that the four of them had been separated.

“A female took our blood and then another group came into the room. They took each of us down a long hall and into separate rooms. I remember the hallway was not so bright but the walls were barren. They reflected the light and when I touched them they were cold. When they took me into this room alone, they told me to undress, but I refused. That’s when the tall men appeared. One held me while the others removed my clothing. I struggled, but all I did was make myself exhausted. Once my
clothing was removed, two women and a man came in. I remember feeling very embarrassed. I did not feel comfortable being naked in front of the strange woman. They put a clamp around my neck and around my feet so I could not move. I remember one of the women came very close to me and told me I would feel no pain and I would not remember anything when it was over. I must have lost consciousness at that moment, because I do not remember anything until the policemen took me home. Sucelly said I slept for three days and when I woke I still did not remember anything. She doctored me a few more days, and then I remembered. I vowed I would remember and I did.”

“Your cousins did not mention that the four of you were separated,” I said.

“None of them remember,” he said, “but I assure you, we were separated. They did things to us, too.” He pulled up his ragged t-shirt and showed me a round indentation on his left side about the size of a quarter. “I did not have this before that night. I think they took part of me.”

Before leaving Miguel’s house, I gave Sucelly a sewing kit, hand cream, and lipstick. Inside the sewing kit, I tucked two $20 bills. Before leaving, she offered us orange juice and Mateo talked with her in Mayan, occasionally stopping to translate.

I
often think of the four cousins who told me their story. Though there are skeptics who would disregard their encounter, this was not the first time I had heard from individuals who reported that they had been taken onboard a craft in their vehicles. I have repeatedly been told about the paralysis that accompanied an abduction. It was only the third time, however, that a hitchhiker was involved who was actually an alien. It makes me wonder if this practice is more common than we know. I never pass a hitchhiker without thinking of Eliseo, José, Javier, and Miguel. Even if I am tempted to stop, I drive on
.

Chapter 14
The Sky Men of Quiriguá

I
n the ancient city of Quiriguá, Guatemala, the elders in the nearby village maintain that the city has always been associated with sky beings and, in fact, the ancient city was ruled by members of the “Sky Dynasty.” When you examine the history of the site closely, you discover that Cauac Sky, who was the first ruler of the city, was also known as Fire Burning Sky Lightning God. After Cauac, there was Sky Xul; next came Sky Imx Dog, Scroll Sky, and Jade Sky
.

In this chapter, my driver, Mateo, reveals to me his own perceptions of the Sky Gods
.

While following in Stephens’s and Catherwood’s footsteps, I kept alert to any signs that ancient astronauts had indeed impacted the world of the Maya. As we approached Quiriguá, I was well aware of the history of the site and the Sky Dynasty that had ruled this ancient city. But I was not prepared to learn that many of the locals believe that the city was built by men from the sky who came and stayed.

“It was aliens that built Quiriguá,” a thin, short Guatemalan with a pencil-thin mustache suddenly declared. We were parked at a “banana crossing” in the middle of a Del Monte banana plantation listening to Hugo, who identified himself as the
jefe
, the boss, at the banana plant. Along with Mateo and me, Hugo was stopped at the banana crossing on the dirt road that led to Quiriguá. I was trying very hard to listen to what he was telling Mateo, while at the same time watching bundle after bundle of bananas whiz by, hanging from hooks on an elevated monorail
that blocked the road when the bananas were being transported from the fields to the loading docks. Each large stalk, with dozens of bunches attached, was covered with a plastic bag. They reminded me of the alien seed pods depicted in the 1950s science-fiction film
Invasion of the Body Snatchers
.

So when Hugo suddenly declared that aliens had built Quiriguá, I turned my full attention to him. “No human could move those
stelae
from the quarry to their present site without some kind of equipment. Some weighed sixty tons. You will see what I tell is true. No mortal man could move such huge objects. Even with present-day technology, it would be difficult. The old ones say the gods flew through the air and dropped those things right where they stand today. The gods must have been aliens if they flew through the sky.”

“Do you think the Sky Gods and the aliens were the same?” I asked.

“Sí. They were the same. They came here, and they liked it so much, they stayed.”

“The Doctora is tracing the footsteps of Stephens and Catherwood, who visited this site in the mid-1800s,” Mateo explained.

“That’s very interesting,” Hugo said. “The Payes descendants still tell stories about Stephens. They liked Catherwood, but not Stephens. Many tour guides will tell you that Stephens and Catherwood visited Quiriguá; it is not true. Only Mr. Catherwood made the trip here. The descendants of the Payes brothers, who owned the land at the time, still talk about how Stephens attempted to buy Quiriguá once he saw Catherwood’s drawings, but Stephens was never here.”

Hugo was correct about Stephens. While in Guatemala City, Stephens and Catherwood received information about a ruined city hidden in the thick jungle, just three hours from Encuentros, where they had stayed after leaving Copán. While Stephens searched for a functioning government, Catherwood explored the ruins of Quiriguá and recorded its magnificently carved
stelae
. Stephens, excited by the evidence of these drawings, entered
into negotiations with the Payes brothers, owners of the land on which the ancient city stood, to purchase fourteen of its principal monuments. Under the mistaken belief that Stephens had the financial backing of the U.S. government, they stubbornly wanted more money than Stephens could afford. So in the middle of negotiations Stephens and Catherwood left Guatemala City bound for Palenque, Mexico.

As we waited at the crossing, two boys approached the van. I rolled down the window and greeted them. They smiled and held up small fragments of ancient Maya carvings, which they claimed came from the ancient site. When I told them they should not take articles from the site, they laughed and said tourists bought them and moved on when they realized I was not a potential buyer. I rolled up the window and contemplated the paradox of the situation. Stephens had tried to buy the site. Today, if the local Maya children had their way, they would sell it piece by piece.

“Hugo, have you ever seen aliens or spaceships at this site?” I asked.

“I have seen spaceships many times. It does not matter; they come during the day and night. They never come when there are tourists. Personally, I have never seen an alien or a Sky God, or whatever you choose to call them, but the men [workers] tell me they frequently land their ships near the Acropolis and get out and walk around. They say they hear their chanting at night.”

“Do they ever describe what they look like?” I asked.

“Sometimes they come as balls of light and turn into men that look just like them. Other times they look like people but are not people.”

“Can you explain?”

“They never really talk about it. They are too afraid, but although they have the form of a man, they are not men. That is all I know.”

“What do they mean when they say they hear chanting?”

“That’s what they hear.”

“Are the chants familiar to the workers?” I asked.

“Sí. They are the old chants of the elders in the villages. Some call them their elders. Some call them relatives. Others call them witches. I have no opinion. I just listen to the men. They are superstitious.”

Suddenly the monorail came to a grinding halt, and Hugo saluted and rode away on his bicycle. Mateo put the vehicle into first gear and we slowly moved along the dirt path, but Hugo’s words lingered in my head. More than a century and a half had passed since Stephens wrote about Quiriguá in his landmark book. In 1910, the United Fruit Company bought a large chunk of the Motagua valley, including the ruins of Quiriguá, to set up banana plantations. Fortunately, they recognized the significance of the ruins and established an archaeological park around it, taking great pains to guard the site from looters. It is now protected as a World Heritage site by UNESCO. In Stephens’s day, visitors trekked through mosquito-infested wilderness to explore the ancient city. Even today, Quiriguá was not the easiest site to visit. No tour buses traveled this way.

Leaving Hugo behind, we drove down the dirt road through seemingly endless miles of banana groves. Finally we pulled into a parking lot. Beyond the ticket kiosk, we found a path that meandered through a grove of massive jungle trees. It led to a large, green, grassy plaza. At the entrance nine giant
stelae
, including the largest one found in the Maya World, were sheltered under
palapa
-roofed pavilions. Ranging from ten to thirty-five feet tall, the
stelae
carved in red sandstone detailed portraits of rulers wearing massive headdresses, surrounded with the opulent accoutrements of symbolic figures and glyphs.

Other books

It's Only Make Believe by Dowell, Roseanne
Shadow Flight (1990) by Weber, Joe
Special Agent Maximilian by Mimi Barbour
Angry Young Spaceman by Jim Munroe