Now I fear that my brother will take on many more wives, simply because they have navels.
I said this to him.
He smiled.
It was good to see him smile. He, too, has been acting like an inhabitant of the land of the dead. I would have thought he was dead, were it not for his navel.
FULL MOON, DAY 11
I went to the mouth of the cave where Yaruba is interred. Behechio was there, sitting at the entrance, watching the sea. A riddle for Behechio:
Why must we wait until people are dead to realize how much we valued them?
Behechio has been going to the mouth of Yaruba’s cave every sunrise. He does not leave until dusk. I go with him. He does not talk, but simply looks at the sea. I am so afraid for him. I fear that he will throw himself in the sea.
FULL MOON, DAY 12
An answer to my riddle about suffering: Behechio supplied it for me as we sat at the mouth of the cave. He is talking again, but only a few words at a time.
Yes, there are moments when one might feel that it is better to die than to suffer, he said, but we must always let these moments pass, especially if we are to rule Xaraguá one day. (I sensed he was talking as much to himself as to me.)
The answer to the other riddle I posed to him:
Why must we wait until people are dead to realize how much we valued them?
Because whether we are nitaínos or naborías, whether we were born of high or low stature, he said, we still lack the wisdom of our ancestors, who have been through both life and death.
Yaruba is an ancestor now, I told him, she is wiser than she used to be and certainly wiser than we are. Perhaps she will help guide us, like our grandmother and others who have preceded us.
The biggest lesson that Yaruba taught him, Behechio said, or has reminded him of, is to be kinder to people who have left their own land to come to ours, especially if they come with hope and enthusiasm.
What would he do now? I asked him. Would he spend the rest of his life at the mouth of this cave? Like our ancestor Mácocael, who must stand guard at the mouths of the caves and, when he comes out into the sunlight, turns into stone?
This would be his last visit to the cave, he said. He had been too distracted by his wives for too long. Now he would love only Xaraguá.
FULL MOON, DAY 13
Our elders tell this story about our ancestor Mácocael. Long ago, when we were night creatures, like the bats who make their homes inside caves, it was Mácocael’s duty to stand outside the caves and close the cave doors when the sun came up. Mácocael performed this duty admirably and with diligence for many moons until one morning he did not come back inside. Fearful that the sun had carried him away, the elders inside the cave locked the cave and left Mácocael outside. Surprised by the sun, which had come up sooner than usual, Mácocael turned to stone.
I had feared that, like Mácocael, Behechio would turn to stone, or at least that his heart would, but it seems that, in spite of himself, his heart has softened, if not toward his living wives then toward Yaruba. I went to the mouth of Yaruba’s cave today and, true to his promise, Behechio was not there. He was again at my uncle’s side, seeing to his duties. I, too, must return to my duties, and with the same dedication that Behechio is beginning to display once again.
FULL MOON, DAY 14
A common disaster has struck! Several of our villages were attacked by the Kalinas, our enemies from across the seas. They took much of our newly harvested yucca, many of our men, and even more of our women, who they will force to bear their children. Though our villagers fought bravely, they were not as strong as the invaders, who are trained warriors.
When he heard of the attacks, my uncle simply ordered the carving of a special zemi in the shape of a serpent, to call on our ancestors to protect our villages. (I myself would prefer to find the Kalinas, destroy them, and leave them for real serpents to eat.)
Our elders tell us that for as long as we’ve been in Quisqueya, Kalinas have come from across the seas to plunder our gardens and take our people away. I wish our elders could tell us how to battle the Kalinas and, better still, defeat them.
I despise the Kalinas! They pillage and steal. I do understand wars and battles, but I don’t understand seizing unearned property and innocent people. I never will!
FULL MOON, DAY 15
I had a terrible dream that I was captured and hanged during one of the Kalinas’ attacks. I have dreamed of many things that have come to be, like that Yeybona would be with child even before she conceived Nahe, or that a certain group would win at a game. None of my dreams has frightened me as much as the one of the Kalinas taking me away, tying a rope around my neck, and hanging me from a tree.
Of this I am certain: The Kalinas will not stop attacking us unless we can fight like them. When I rule Xaraguá, I will make certain that all our people become as strong and fierce as the Kalina warriors.
LAST QUARTER MOON, DAY 16
Matunherí, Behechio, and I met with many of the subchiefs from the villages, who came to tell us of the extent of the Kalinas’ attacks. Many more women were taken than at first thought, reducing the population of one small village to men alone. This makes me so angry that I could eat their flesh, like the Kalinas are said to do with those of the men they capture.
At night I cannot sleep, thinking of all the children whose mothers were taken from our villages. All of these children’s houses must now be like the river’s edge, where little frogs cry out “toa, toa” late into the night.
LAST QUARTER MOON, DAY 17
My uncle has chosen to isolate himself in the prayer house so he can speak to our ancestors and let them advise him on what to do about the Kalinas. Like me, he is worried that the next Kalina attack will not be against our villagers but against our household.
This has always been the fear of caciques and cacicas, even in my grandmother’s time, Bibi said at the sunrise meal, from which my uncle was absent.
Rulers throughout Quisqueya have always feared that their households would be attacked, so along with the best servants, they surround themselves with the most skilled fighters, men who know the ways of the Kalinas and could at least frighten them.
Baba also joined in our talk, reassuring Behechio and myself that the same men who participate in our mock battles with clubs, spears, and bows and arrows could easily defend my uncle’s household against the Kalinas.
Rather than feel more protected, I thought of how unguarded the villagers, who don’t have this gathering of strong fighters surrounding them, must be.
Why not train fighters who will protect all of Xaraguá, and position them on the beaches to watch for invaders the way Mácocael watched for the sun at the mouths of the caves? Why don’t all of us become fighters, like the Kalinas?
Behechio agrees with me, but Bibi and Baba think we should let Matunherí rule as he wishes.
Later, as the two who might one day be responsible for Xaraguá, Behechio and I spoke alone. We have decided that we will consult Matunherí about doing some things we haven’t done before to protect our people against the Kalinas.
Behechio and I had some of the same thoughts: walls around our villages; fishermen with spears to guard the rivers and ocean entryways; more trained fighters, so that each village has its own group of combatants.
Behechio was roused by the possibility of discovering a solution that, for some reason, no one had thought of before. It was the first time I thought I would feel at ease living in Xaraguá under my brother’s rule, the first time I realized that he would make an excellent chief, with or without my help.
LAST QUARTER MOON, DAY 18
My uncle has resurfaced. While in the prayer house, he fasted and prayed and sat thinking for uninterrupted periods of time.
The first thing he did after coming out was gather the subchiefs in the courtyard and command that more spears and clubs and bows and arrows be constructed by the villagers so that they’d be better prepared to defend themselves.
Some of the fighters who guard us will gather selected groups from our villages to train them in the Kalinas’ war methods.
Though we will not cross the seas into the Kalinas’ territories to fight them, my uncle says, if they come to our lands and attempt to destroy us, we must do to them the same as they would do to us.
LAST QUARTER MOON, DAY 19
Matunherí has given his blessing for Behechio and me to train with his fighters, so that we will be among those to defend Xaraguá if necessary.
Before we began our training, one of the oldest fighters told us that our grandmother had also trained with him to fight against invaders.
Like many of the rulers of her time, my grandmother had a frequent dream that clothed men would come from lands much farther away than those of the Kalinas and would cause us great pain.
Her whole life, the old man said, my grandmother had trained and waited for these clothed men. He himself was grateful the clothed men never came. Trying to defend ourselves against the Kalinas is difficult enough.
FIRST QUARTER MOON, DAY 1
Our elders tell this story about corn: It grows on the moon, so we must always plant and harvest it during a new moon. Some of our elders also say that the first people who walked the earth grew out of the corn and thus we are all children of the corn.
It is a cool and breezy day. The wind is blowing through the trees, forcing them to shed both fruits and leaves. It will be harder to harvest the corn, but harvest it we must, before the rains come in full force and drown the stalks.
We have all been staying inside, except the corn growers, who must endure the elements to continue their work. Adding to our troubles, my poor uncle has been ill. He has a cough and chills that refuse to go away, no matter what his healers do.
I can’t bear to see Matunherí suffer. Behechio, Bibi, Baba, and I sit with him for long stretches, watching him battle for every breath. It is doubly painful seeing the healers echo his illness as they try all they can to find effective remedies for him.
As Matunherí’s condition has not improved in some time, the bohiti have resorted to their most potent strategies, blackening their faces with ashes and feeding him a ground-charcoal paste to cleanse his insides. They have bellowed healing ballads and lit ceremonial torches so that the healing spirits can find him more easily. They have massaged every part of his body to force his afflictions out through his skin, covered him in manatee hide to sweat him, and made him lie unclad in his hammock to cool him off. Nothing has worked.
Behechio has commissioned several healing amulets for the prayer house, where Matunherí is carried regularly to reflect and pray. Bibi, Baba, and I have carved a few of the healing figurines ourselves, breathing into them now and then as though they were my uncle, for whose life we would easily trade our own.
FIRST QUARTER MOON, DAY 2
With Matunherí being ill, Behechio and I have had to assume more and more of his responsibilities. At the sunrise and sunset meals, we are the ones who receive the subchiefs from our villages and listen to their accounts from the territory.
Though we have not had a Kalinas raid since the yucca harvest — perhaps the Kalinas have turned their attention to other territories — we are now better prepared should one come.
Not only are Behechio and I trained for battle but each of our villages has its own group of skilled combatants. Because of the rainy weather, walls have not yet been built around the villages, but this is something we hope to accomplish soon after the sun resurfaces.
FIRST QUARTER MOON, DAY 3
Though he is still ill, my uncle forced himself out of his hammock to sit in one of his ceremonial chairs and smoke his favorite pipe. This is his way of reminding us that he is still the supreme ruler of Xaraguá, regardless of how many of his activities are now being performed by Behechio and me.
Matunherí received many of the subchiefs, then called for his weaver, Cuybio, whom he asked to make him some new head and body coverings, as he has grown quite thin.
FIRST QUARTER MOON, DAY 4
Music could be heard coming from my uncle’s house at sunset, a different sort of sound than the ballads his healers had been singing. It was livelier music, full of flutes, drums, conch shells, and maracas. Matunherí’s musicians were making music that would even make the stars want to dance.
FIRST QUARTER MOON, DAY 5
As future rulers of Xaraguá, Behechio and I went to the prayer house to ask the ancestors to heal my uncle. In the prayer house were several of the healing carvings Behechio had commissioned, many of which I had made with my own hands.
Behechio and I spent most of our time before three ceremonial stones that Matunherí had placed at the center of the prayer house. Of the three stones, one was to help bring good harvests to Xaraguá, the second to help our women bear children without pain, and the third was to help bring us rain and sun during the proper seasons.
Since the skies were still somber, I prayed for sun, hoping that with the sun’s return everything would suddenly brighten, including the state of Matunherí’s health.
HALF MOON, DAY 6
I had a puzzling dream that the sea rose to meet the land, covering all of Xaraguá. I woke up trembling and could not fall asleep again for trying to interpret this dream. I have these very terrible interpretations in mind: Does my dream mean that Matunherí is dying and that Xaraguá will soon be washed in tears? Is my dream the heavens’ way of signaling that the sun will never surface again? Could it be that we should soon expect a defeating attack from the Kalinas? Perhaps they have heard about Matunherí’s illness and are planning to attack us before he is better.
HALF MOON, DAY 7
Matunherí seems to be improving. He was able to eat a full meal at sunrise. I would like to be hopeful, but he has shown some improvements before, only to fall ill again.
The skies remain gray, with dusky clouds suspended over us in the most menacing way. All across Xaraguá, our corn is being harvested in a great hurry. Should these dark clouds remain, it will be some time before we are able to plant again.
HALF MOON, DAY 8
My uncle’s health continues to vacillate; he decided to undergo yet another healing rite. One of his healers fashioned him a special vomiting stick so that he could purge himself in a more forceful manner, then Matunherí inhaled some potent tobacco, which induced a trance. While in the trance, he was better able to communicate with the spirits, who told him that a hurricane was coming. Now it is clear to me what my dream meant. According to Matunherí, we have little time to prepare.
HALF MOON, DAY 9
Matunherí remains in a trance, even though he has not made any more declarations about the hurricane or anything else. Behechio and I called the subchiefs together quickly and asked everyone to prepare the best they could for the hurricane.
Bibi and Baba left their own house to join us at Matunherí’s house. The servants collected food and water. They also gummed more palm and thatch to the roof and reinforced the wall around the courtyard. The subchiefs have made my uncle’s visions known to all the villagers under their control. Hopefully all of our villages are now prepared for the hurricane.
A riddle involving hurricanes:
What is the difference between a war and a hurricane?
Response:
A war we may be able to win with our own might, but with a hurricane, all power is out of our hands.
HALF MOON, DAY 10
Still no hurricane, though the skies remain covered with dark clouds. Now and then we have a drizzle that we are sure is the beginning, but nothing has happened yet.
My uncle has resurfaced from his trance. If his eyes had not moved now and then, we would have thought he was dead. The first thing he said when he rejoined us was, “Do not despair at a little rain. A drop of rain is the heavens’ way of giving us an embrace.”
We are still waiting to find out how brutally the heavens will embrace us.
FULL MOON, DAY 11
Though the skies ha
ve not cleared, my uncle’s health seems to be getting better. He is eating regularly again and is able to walk in the courtyard with Behechio and me at his side.
He must have known that it was not his time yet, otherwise before he went into his trance of many moons he would have named either Behechio or myself — or both of us — as his successors.
FULL MOON, DAY 12
The sun came out again, but not for long. Matunherí took the opportunity to go for a sea bath. During our walk toward the sea, he told Behechio and me that when he first became ill, he thought it was because he had done something to displease our ancestors. But he’s since realized that his long illness, which has not altogether disappeared, as he still coughs a great deal and quite often, may simply have been due to the fact that he is getting old.
FULL MOON, DAY 13
The sun is out. No hurricane yet. I am puzzled about Matunherí’s declaration and my dream. If the hurricane does not come, will the people still trust my uncle’s interpretations of the skies? And can I still trust what I see in my dreams?
Behechio said Matunherí is planning to call the subchiefs together to tell them that he pleaded with the heavens to spare us from the hurricane.
I am always with Matunherí when Behechio is with him, still they manage to have talks that I am not part of. I did not express this to Behechio, but I don’t like having such important matters communicated to Behechio when I’m not present.