The Empty Hammock (6 page)

“He has had that vision for years,” Orocobix scoffed. “They are not Caribs, why should we be afraid?”

“But they were like gods. It’s as if Yocahu, the chief God, had descended from the sky. The day is finally coming, when Yocahu will come for us.”

“I have heard that since I was a boy hunting coneys, and Yocahu has not come.”

“But this time he will, Guacanagari told his messengers, who came from Bohio last moon, that the day is soon upon us.”

Orocobix stood up, his tall frame almost reaching the rafters of the house. “Yocahu be with you my friend. I am not alarmed. If Yocahu comes, then we will all live in peace, even the Caribs.”

The Behique nodded his eyes thoughtful.

******

“She has been sleeping like one dead,” Clara mumbled to Carey. “I thought she really wanted to see what was in the treasure chest. It’s not like her to give up and just sleep like that.”

“Well she has not been sleeping properly for ages,” Carey said, “let’s not wake her. Let us allow her to get as much rest as she can. Poor thing, she worked like a demon to get the promotion and when she finally got it they worked her to this.”

Clara sniffed, “the welder said he won’t be here until three days time. I want to see what is in that box so bad.”

“We could always take it into town,” Carey said, “when Ana wakes up she would get the surprise of her life.”

“I am not sharing the treasure with anyone else,” Clara insisted. “If the welder can’t come here, then we will have to try and open it some other way.”

Carey nodded, “I feel like taking a nap myself. I will just sleep out here since Ana snagged the prized spot,” he glanced at the still form of his sister under the palm tree.

“I will just go into the basement and start some sorting of your father’s things—I intend to have that bonfire.”

Clara went through the kitchen and turned on the basement light before walking downstairs. The basement represented everything that was lost to her.  She could not face the pain of sorting through her husband’s artifacts and obsession, so she had asked Ana, even though she knew, deep down, that she would have to be the one to do it.

She had to finally bury the anger that she felt toward his work and her certainty that it contributed to his demise; he died a broken man, speaking gibberish. The noble professor, swept away by an obsession. Her children were here; she could face the task. She took a deep breath and descended the stairs.

When they were building the house, her husband had wanted a place to store all his historical paraphernalia. It was a huge space spanning about half the size of their 3,000 sq. ft home. It was tiled and had small windows, which were covered with her rose bushes. Toward the end of his life, her husband would spend days in the same spot, tapping on his computer and mumbling weird things.

He had boxes and boxes of research and Clara just wanted to clear them out. Maybe she could remove some of her roses so that the place could be better lit, modernize the bathroom and rent out the space. When her children were not home she could do well with some company.

She headed to the box that was marked ‘family tree’ and took it from the stack. Probably Ana would like to look through this before she dumped it.

She started sorting through the papers, her heart hurting as she thought of all the time her husband had wasted on his Taino research when he could have spent more time with her.  Life was just too short for such foolishness.

******

The heat that the fire in the middle of the hut generated was causing Ana to be a little dizzy, the pungent scent of the herbs was lulling her to sleep.

This was the third day of preparations, yesterday they rubbed her all over with river sand, the coarse grains were mixed with a fragrant herb and then she was washed with warm water.

Next her hair was braided; the long curly strands that she had known all her life were now straight and hung way past her shoulders. She had looked in the river and almost screamed, she resembled the person in the water only faintly, her nose was broader, her eyes sloe-shaped and chocolate brown, and her forehead was flattened.

She looked like the rest of the people she was seeing in the strange world of the Tainos.

“It is time for your final purification,” Basila said to Ana stepping into the hut. “As the shadows fall you will be given to the Chief.”

Ana got up from the stool and followed Basila outside to the stream, Farisa and Antia had clay bowls filled with a gooey looking mixture, one was red and the other yellow.

              They beckoned to Ana and she stood in front of them, they started to paint with their fingers, intricate patterns over her breasts and her navel.

Ana felt drugged.

Was this an alternate reality? Yesterday, she kept pinching herself to confirm that what she was seeing was real.

Skin and flesh surely couldn’t be so real to the touch, the silky shaft of her hair, pain from a mosquito bite.

This was unlike any dream she had before. It was too real, and it dawned on her that she was going to be married tonight, to a man she didn't know.

This would give a psychiatrist hours of consultation time, she grinned slightly. They might even tell her she was delusional and her subconscious was bringing up her insecurities. Probably that was what they had told her father.

The women finished their painting and Ana wondered why they weren't friendlier towards her. Basila seemed to be the only one who was warm; everyone else had an unsociable attitude. They only spoke politely to her when they had to; it was as if they were afraid to get any closer to her.

Ana decided to test the waters with Farisa, her prospective mother-in-law.

“Farisa why are we not friends?” Ana asked the woman.

Farisa’s warm brown eyes grew chilly and she sniffed, “I do not like my son’s choice of a bride. I wanted him to marry Tanama. You are too dreamy and unsteady, your hips are not child-bearing hips and you cannot cook.”

“Yet still, you help to prepare me for the joining?” Ana breathed.

Could it be that the placid Arawaks, the friendly people, had human emotions like jealousy and dissatisfied mother-in-laws?

Ana started to grin.

The women looked at each other and shook their heads.

“I am happy to be here right now.” Ana looked at each one of them. “I never dreamt that I could have such a wonderful time, I hope with time you will like me, Farisa and even you, Antia.” She pointed to the woman. “Even though, I really do not know your reasons for not liking me.”

“I like you,” Antia said solemnly, “you are like a daughter to me, but I just don’t understand you, sometimes when you wake up from your dreams, you do not recognize me. It hurts.”

So she had frequent dreams as a Taino?

“Do people listen to me when I tell them my visions?”

“Yes they do,” Basila looked at her kindly. “They always do. The Behique listens to your council. When you were a child, the old Cacique would consult you and would not go to sea if you had seen the vision of a huracan.”

Basila touched Ana’s hair. “You are much valued, Ana. Orocobix is getting a good partner in his first wife.”

“Tell me about Orocobix,” Ana asked Farisa as the women started to string shells on her long plaits of hair.

“You grew up with him,” Farisa said puzzled, but changed her mind when she saw the look that Basila gave her.

What was happening with the girl Ana? Was she really losing her senses?

“Well you used to play in the river all day while we were still living in Maima, at Chief Guarno’s village. You collected stones and killed birds and we would cook it. Orocobix had a strange idea that he was going to build a canoe and sail it all the way to Bohio.”

“That’s modern Haiti,” Ana squealed, “Bohio is what we call Haiti.”

“What is she saying about Haiti?” Farisa asked frowning. “Of course Bohio is Haiti.”

“Stand still,” Basila said sternly. She glanced at the others her heart heavy, sooner or later, someone will question what was really wrong with Ana and she didn't know how to protect the girl.

People with mental illnesses were left in a house at the bottom of the village. Ana would be important to her people and she wanted to see her married to the Chief and live beyond reproach, no matter what she said, or how she acted.

Farisa’s hand stilled in Ana’s hair, and then she continued, “Before you were born, we all went to Bohio,” her voice was thoughtful, “a whole family would be in the canoe and we traveled for ten moons. Your mother became sickly; she just had to see Chief Guacanagari. She insisted that he would tell her why she was not well.

He stood waiting for us, when we arrived; he touched your mother’s belly and said this one will be special. I never forgot that Ana.” She looked sad. “Maybe I was jealous that my child, was not pronounced special by the Great Chief, but I never forgot it. I guess I should be thankful that your lineage will now be entwined with mine.”

She finished beading Ana’s hair in silence.

CHAPTER SEVEN

The incessant knocking of the drums reached Ana’s ears as she stood in the middle of Basila’s hut. She was told earlier that it was the family hut where they all lived. It would be her last time in that hut, as she would be living with Orocobix in his bigger place after this. A strange sort of excitement gripped her as she thought of the up coming ceremony.

Everybody was excited, their brightly painted bodies and shells dazzled her. It was like playing dress up, Taino style. She fingered the beads that were strung on her forehead; each bead was interspersed with gold.

The overall effect was impressive. She even had gold around her waist. The gold was pure in its primitiveness and Ana thought
, no wonder Columbus forgot his high ideals when he came here. Christianizing the heathens
, she snorted.

She learnt from Basila that only the members of the Chief’s family wore gold.

Tanama stood in the corner of the hut, her armband stark white against her arms, she was not too happy with Ana. Ever since Ana got back from the hut, where they were preparing her for the ceremony, Tanama had been silent. She stared accusingly at her sister and pouted.

“I am more beautiful,” Tanama hissed to Basila, “why her?”

“Shush.” Basila looked at Tanama. “The chief’s emotions have nothing to do with beauty, it has to do with love, just be happy for her.”

“She’s crazy. I don't want to be a second wife to her,” Tanama wailed.

“Who says he will take other wives,” Basila said quietly, “if she gives him enough sons he may not want another wife.”

Tanama flounced from the hut.

The drum beating became louder and more incessant as if they were talking to her.

Ana shuddered, she remembered how Orocobix had looked three days ago, when she awoke from her dream and found herself in the past, she had not seen him since and she was a bit scared of this joining thing.

Suppose she never got to go back home?

No more Howard to contend with. No more marketing.

Her mother and brother would miss her. They were used to not hearing from her for days, but what would they do if she went missing?

How much time had lapsed since she became lost in this surreal world?

What were they doing now?

The questions followed her as she walked outside to the well-lit square. This was just an empty spot near the chief’s house. The beating of the drums got louder and then stopped. The lonesome sound of a reed started. The gentle whisper of its tones seemed to wrap itself around her as she stood in the circle before the firelight.

There were people surrounding the fire, their faces garishly painted. The crowd was not huge and Ana realized that it was really not a large village.

Her eyes searched for Orocobix, and she found him staring at her intently across the firelight. He wore two armbands; his hair was loose with colorful feathers tied at the end. Shells and gold draped his neck; he looked handsome and proud and sat upright with his legs crossed.

What are the odds that you would meet a man like this in your own time? A voice in her head asked her. She felt drawn to him. Was this finally the attraction she was searching for?

“Go to him and kneel before him,” Basila advised her quietly.

Ana walked across to Orocobix and knelt before him. He held out his hands and she scooted on the ground so that she could take them in her own.

The old man, who sat beside Orocobix, stood up and Ana noticed that his lower body was covered with a short loincloth that had an interesting pattern. The armband around his hand looked as if it was wrapped too tight. His hair was silver-gray and he had a single feather in it. His eyes were watery and Ana recognized the odor of tobacco on him.

He stood over them, and a young girl, who bent her head respectfully, carried an ugly wooden head to place beside her and Orocobix. Ana glanced at the ugly image and noticed that its flat head had what looked like smoking grass on it; she could hardly focus on Orocobix after that.