The Empty Hammock (13 page)

They filled up the treasure chests with the gold that they already had. When it came to working they were not really keen, unless it was planting food, and even in that they had a unique system of doing things. The women seemed to be the busiest workers in the tribe. At times, he would see men resting in their hammocks, because their wives were pregnant, while the same pregnant wives would be working. He found this an odd practice and had a good laugh with Pablo about it.

There were so many things about the islanders that was fascinating, but he was beginning to get frustrated with the language barrier. There were many things that he wanted to know; how did they feel about the strange men in their midst?

Could they be as happy as they appeared?

He distrusted their show of happiness and was wary of any of the natives who came too close to him; he imagined that they were biding their time to get revenge on the Spanish men who were increasingly brutal.

Pablo said that he was distrustful of humans in general. Might be he was, or might be he was just missing home. He found himself longing for his father’s lectures, his sisters vacant twittering and his mother’s fussing. All the family traits that he had found so unbearable in Spain were now looking more attractive.

The four days with Guacanagari was enough for him. He arranged for some men to carry his chests on board the ship. After directing them where to stow it, he thought seriously about going home. He longed for a woman of his own kind, to laugh and to share ideas with. He was staring into the darkness after the natives left when Pablo walked into his cabin.

“How are we going to explain why we are not overly interested in the gold mining?” Pablo’s expression was worried.

“We will go with Colón on his quest to find new lands,” Juan grinned. “Then as soon as it is humanly possible, we will escape this paradise and go back to the place where people speak our language.”

“Is that homesickness I hear, young Vizconde? Pondering after mama’s cooking…can’t stand iguana stew?” He smirked at Juan and ducked as his friend threw a tin cup at him; it missed his head by an inch.

“Mmmm, can’t even throw… a sign of skirt strings attached to his arms,” Pablo howled, as the second tin cup connected with his head. He winked as his friend grinned.

******

Who would have thought that Arawak’s were exposed to other cultures?

It stood to reason that if Agita could have washed up on some nearby land and brought here that other people had attempted the journey to the new world.

“Stop thinking so hard,” Orocobix whispered in her ear. She was lying in his arms in a different corner of Oromico’s hut.

“I am sorry to wake you,” Ana whispered back, the family home was not as crowded as last night, some of the wives and their children slept in their own huts.

Oromico snored in the corner in a drunken stupor. Once again there was a steady drizzle outside, and the cocoon-like feeling she experienced in Orocobix‘s arms returned.

He squeezed her tighter to him and nibbled on her ear, “tomorrow both of us are going swimming. I am going to teach you how to catch a sea turtle.”

Ana shuddered dramatically and he laughed.

“Ana, I just want you to know that we are not all cows. I believe you; I will try to convince Oromico that you are right. Maima is the largest settlement in this section of the island. We have no weapons like the Caribs; perhaps we should approach the coming people peaceably.”

“No,” Ana said adamantly, “peace will kill you. Why can’t you be aggressive like the Caribs? In the future some of their tribes are still alive, while only a handful of your descendants are still around and only those who joined with the white man to secure their places in society.”

Orocobix squeezed her hand tightly. “Peace is all we know.”

“Peace will kill you,” Ana repeated.

******

The next morning, Ana was walking along the golden sandy beach near Maima, the beach was crowded with men building canoes and going out to sea with their strings and hooks. There were children bathing and women plaiting their hair and laughing. The setting was idyllic. 

She sat down beside Guani, or was it Macu? She noticed that he was gathering shells and putting them into separate clay bowls, by color.

“What are you doing with those?” Ana asked the youngster.

“I trade these with the inland tribes,” the boy responded, then he looked straight into Ana’s eyes; his big brown eyes bright, “I am Guani.”

Ana nodded. “Can you read minds? I was just thinking that I couldn’t distinguish you from your brother, I have to remind myself that Macu is the one with the flattened forehead.”

“I can’t, but I can read your eyes.” He said seriously. “There is restlessness in your eyes. What you spoke last night was the truth. I read that too.”

Ana stuck her fingers in the sand and stared at the sea. The sun was not too hot and the sea was lazily lapping against the shore; the place looked like an exotic postcard.

She thought over Guani’s comment. Maybe not everyone was oblivious but still, he was very wise for his age.

“Why does Macu follow me around?” Ana asked suddenly, she was not sure she wanted to speak of death and mayhem today; she would stick to safe topics like family and customs.

“He likes you.” Guani picked up a perfect pink shell and placed it in a bowl, “I like you too.” He glanced at her bashfully and then looked out at sea.

“Thanks, I like both of you too.”

Their names in English meant Big Eyes and Big Ears. Why would their mother call them that? She looked at Guani’s ears, they were not that big.

He grinned at her and picked up a coral blue shell from his clay pot. It was delicately hued with darker colors of aqua threaded through its ridges. It was beautiful and appeared as if it was porcelain varnished to a rich finish; it fitted nicely in the palm of her hands.

Guani took it back from her and bored it carefully with a bone and pushed a clear string in the shell, he then added chunks of gold around the shell and tied off the ends. It was beautiful. He knelt behind Ana and tied it around her neck. It fitted well with the shells and gold from her joining necklace.

“Wear this for me and Macu.”

She hugged him and nodded her thanks. Macu joined them shortly after and Ana got up to join Orocobix in the water; she was surrounded by her new friends, Guani and Macu who accepted her unquestionably.

******

Ana was walking up to the chief’s house, her hair was slightly curly. She had spent most of the day on the beach meeting people she should have known; nodding and smiling as if she was familiar with the things they said. It had gotten tiring after a while and she now felt salty and sticky,

The dark clouds in the sky indicated that there would be rain, so Orocobix hurried her to the house. He held on to her hand tightly but let her go when the Behique fell into step beside them.

The Behique jutted his chin proudly as he walked with them. His voice was grave when he spoke. “Ana of the line of Basila.”

Ana glanced at him, “yes.”

“I need to hold council with you.”

Ana looked at Orocobix, then at the Behique. “Sure, when?”

“Before you leave us.” The Behique then abruptly walked away.

“Is that all apart of the mystique of the medicine men?” Ana asked Orocobix. “Because I’m not impressed,” she mimicked the medicine man, “I need to hold council with you,” and began to laugh.

“You are irreverent,” Orocobix looked at her reproachfully. “He is the healer of the people. The representative of the gods.”

“Your gods are foolishness,” Ana stuck out her tongue at him, “and I am sure some of their talking to the medicine man is via drunkenness and tobacco inhalation. If you get drunk enough even the rocks will speak to you.”

Orocobix stopped her in the middle of the walk and kissed her hard. “I’m not pleased with your talk of the gods as foolishness.”

“I am not pleased with you stopping,” Ana whispered her knees going weak. “Let us go somewhere private before the rains come.”

They ended up in the brushes at the side of the road. The soft grass was their bed as they made love. Ana rested her head on Orocobix’s chest; “I have not taken those pomegranate seeds that Basila gave to me. I don’t even know where I put the pouch with it.”

Orocobix kissed her on the forehead. “You will bear my children. Is that so bad?”

“No,” Ana shook her head, tormented suddenly. It was getting harder and harder to remember that she did not belong where she was.

Large, cold raindrops began to pelt their bodies; they had to run to the Chief’s house in the cold deluge. It felt good to be alive and she wanted the world to know. She squealed as they clamored up the hill; love and laughter shining in her eyes; all her talk of not getting involved with the Taino’s was far from her mind now.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Dinner that evening consisted of roasted yam and sweet potatoes with stewed waterfowl and a very hot, pepper pot soup. Ana was sleepy after she ate, and she curled up in the corner of the hut that was her sleeping spot while Orocobix conferred with the servants who had accompanied them to Maima.

Ana tried to remember the map of Jamaica as it is in 2007. The parishes kept swimming in her head. How much would it differ from the past she wondered?

The little bit of St. Ann that she saw so far was vastly different. The springs and the minute waterfalls, which seemed in abundance here, were not in the future. Her eyes felt heavy and drowsiness seemed to hold her in a vacuum; pulling her down, tightening a fist across her mind.

“Ana,” a voice near to her ear said. “Ana, it's getting late, you have to go inside.”

“I am inside,” Ana mumbled. “Leave me alone,” the steady murmuring of the inside of Oromico’s hut became the whispering of tree leaves rustling in the wind.

“If I were brave, I would lift her up, but I am not,” Carey said loudly. “I would not want my wife to come back from Miami and find my back broken.”

Clara chuckled and shook Ana. The girl had slept all day like a log.

“Carey.” Ana opened her eyes a crack and stared at her brother as his face swam into focus. She was in a hammock, it was slightly swaying.

“No,” she screamed, holding up her hand. “I don’t want to leave yet. I did not get to say goodbye.”

Carey sighed and looked at Clara. “Bad dream,” he mouthed.

Ana sobbed as she thought of Orocobix and the life she had just left behind. “It was not just a dream,” she cried. “I was there, I was there.”

Clara swung Ana’s hand over her shoulder, and Carey did the same with the other. They carried her sobbing into the house and deposited her unto her bed.

“I was supposed to be in Maima,” she blubbered. “My husband is there, I did not say goodbye.”

Clara knelt before her daughter and seriously considered weeping herself. Was this hereditary, this senility that was eating away at her family?

First her husband, then her daughter.

“Ana,” Clara tipped up her chin as she read the confusion in her daughter’s eyes. “You are here for a vacation, obviously your nerves are shot. I’m going to fix you a nice cup of peppermint tea with chamomile. That should sooth you.”

Ana huddled on the bed and trembled, she was not ready for the future. She had gone through days in her dream and yet only a few hours had passed.  Was it the same day that she had arrived at her mother’s house and seen Carey? Who was playing tricks on her? Her dream was so vivid she even remembered what she had for the evening meal; it was pepper pot soup, roasted yam, sweet potato and stew duck or was it waterfowl.

A sudden wave of longing for Orocobix hit her and she shuddered. Was this how it was going to be? She was five hundred years apart from of her first love. Tears seeped from her eyes into the bed linen. She heard when her mother carried the tea; she felt her brother’s sympathetic touch on her brow. She stared at the wall all night, reluctant to move, fear gripping her insides as she thought of never seeing Maima again.

She had no idea when she fell asleep.

******

There was a warm body curled beside her. Ana got up and peered into the darkness.

“Shhh,” Orocobix whispered as he pulled her back down beside him. “You were crying and trembling in your sleep earlier. What’s wrong?”

Ana let out a big sigh. “Nothing’s wrong.” She snuggled closer to him. “Everything is all right now.”

He kissed her temple. “You cried out for Carey again.”

“Carey is my brother,” Ana said drowsily, hugging him tight to her. “I was just so scared that I would never see you again.” She knew her conversation was disjointed but she didn’t care. “I would go crazy.”

“You will see me forever Ana.” Orocobix whispered. “If I die before you, they will bury you with me.”

“What! Bury me alive?”

“Yes, so that we can take the journey to Coyaba together.”

Ana grimaced, “I don’t think I would want to be buried alive.”