Book 3, Chapter
51
The fraternity brothers
stood amidships and David pointed to a sand dune that rose over
a thousand feet above the level of the ocean and shouted. “Look over there! South
and East,”
he directed with his arm. He pointed excitedly. The young men looked in that direction.
“What
are they? Pine trees?”
“No, David. No, those aren’t
trees.” Richard answered, “Those are Chiqua Indians, not
pine trees.”
“Covering that hill? That
sand dune?” David asked not taking his eyes away from the
dune.
“Yes. It is their greeting
party.”
“No shit,” David said,
opening his green binocular case. “For Us?”
He looked through the binoculars
and adjusted the view. He scanned the dune. He was
silent for a short time. He finally spoke sounding convinced. “You’re right,
Dick. They’re
dressed in green cloaks like us. As a matter of fact,” he added, “they’re
dressed identically to
us: green outfits and red gloves.
“How many do you think
there are?” Phillip inquired. “Can you tell?”
“Many thousands, I
don’t know how many,” David responded.
The young men heard, The
greeting party is fifteen thousand Chiqua: engineers, bearers,
warrior Chiefs, and soldiers.
“Thousands! I would believe
it,” Phillip answered as the roar went up from the dune,
sweeping across the waves toward the freighter, “Queepwa twa—I greet
white gods. Queepwa
twa—I greet white gods.”
“Wow!” Daniel said
looking at his long green parka. He got a tingling in his manhood.
Excitement surrounded him. “Is this what they’re wearing? What we have
on?”
“Yeah. For our trip over the
Andes,” Richard answered. “The green pants too.”
“These suits sure are
warm,” Timothy commented.
Daniel nodded his head and said, “I don’t feel the wind against my body, legs
or butt, just my face,” he said rubbing the stubble on his chin.
“And these outfits, attire as
the Att would say, are very light weight. My snow suit,
when I was a kid, was so heavy because it was wool, at times, especially when I was
sledding,
I hated to wear it,” Phillip said.
“I remember that,
too,” Timothy added. We’ll be glad we have these in the mountains,”
David said checking his collar. “Listen to the drums! Do you hear those
drums?”
“I thought that sound was the
freighter’s engines, but You’re right,” Daniel said, “I do
hear drums. Many drums and they’re getting louder.”
The five young men were thrilled
as red-caped legions of Chiqua appeared moving in
step with the drum beat appeared moving steadily over the large sand located farther North
and
East. “There has to be fifty Indians in those rows,” Richard said as the first,
second, and third
rows marched over the crest of the dune. The rows continued coming.
The red-caped legions were
shouting, “Queepwa twa—I greet white gods. Queepwa
twa—I greet white gods.” The sound of thousands of Indians shouting their
greeting made
discussion difficult, words hard to hear, between the young men.
“Can you believe
this?” Phillip asked.
“Of course,” Richard
answered not taking his eyes off the rows of marching Chiqua as
they marched over the top of the dune and continued downward on the shore side of the
dune.
Phillip saw the determination in Richard’s profile as he watched his Indians.
Phillip turned and looked at
Timothy and David, who were nodding their heads. Their
gazes were on the Chiqua.
“You bet,” Daniel
added. Phillip saw Daniel’s jaw muscles stand out as he pressed his
teeth together.
Phillip looked down at the deck of
the freighter and turned his thoughts inward. He was
silent. That part of Phillip that was a man studied that part that was still a boy and realized
that
the boy could not remain; the child must remain in the past. In Phillip’s heart, the
man walked
away from the boy without looking back.
Gusts of sea breezes whipped
around the deck and against the ship, against the clothing
of the five fraternity brothers—the new Kol—the new god Chiefs. Phillip turned his
unblinking
eyes toward the shore. He watched the thousands of Chiqua Indians, warriors and soldiers,
filling the shore. He told himself he was ready to be Chief; ready to command. He walked
from
the middle of the top deck to the railing facing the shore and looked down. His fraternity
brothers followed him and stood behind him.
Phillip placed his gloved hands on
the railing and surveyed the activities.
The freighter had made its final
maneuver and was anchored parallel to the shoreline.
Chiqua Indians were walking rapidly into the water. Phillip looked down at the side of the
freighter and saw a structure underneath the surface of the ocean. He followed the structure
as
it proceeded toward shore. He watched the Chiqua, in their red capes, lay pilings and
planks
to construct a pier outward toward the freighter using a foundation that already existed in the
water. They’re just making the pier taller in the water. Yes, he
heard. The pier cannot be seen
from above or from the beach when the top layer is not in place.
The young Chiefs listened to the
steady rhythm of sound as the Chiqua construction
approached the freighter. “Are they humming?” Daniel asked.
“They’re chanting.
My God I hope they’re not chanting sea chanteys. Remember those
fucking sea chanteys in the frosh men’s choir?” Phillip asked Timothy and
David.
“Whoa, do we!” David
said listening to the sound.
“Right,” Timothy
added. “Professor Parkinson finally understood the problem.”
“Yeah he got it after we told
him we were tired of sea chanteys,” David laughed.
“They’re not
chanting,” Richard said. “Listen!”
“They’re
praying!”
“Who are they praying
to?” Phillip asked.
“Their God,” they
heard.
The young Chief watched the
construction of the pier.
They placed four feet sections of
highly polished wood pilings into the underwater section
of the pier. They quickly built a pier that allowed them to walk several feet above the waves
out
to the freighter.
Phillip turned and asked,
“Do you see this? Do you see what’s going on?” As he looked
at his four fraternity brothers, he noticed the ten Att observing the construction of the pier as
it proceeded toward the freighter.
Phillip looked up the sections of the
constructed pier, toward the shore, and observed
hundreds of Chiqua carrying a wooden structure that resembled a staircase. He watched the
Chiqua assembling the pier, next to the freighter’s port side finish the pier
construction. He
admired the ingenuity of the Chiqua as the long staircase was carried on the pier toward the
freighter. That pier has to be ten or twelve feet wide. Fourteen, he heard. The
bearers walked
carefully and in step, moving to the beat of the many ceremonial drums, and swayed from
side
to side as it approached the freighter. It’s apparently very heavy. Four
tons, he heard.
Phillip watched the front section of
the staircase rise slowly, supported by long poles
that were folded underneath the staircase structure. The Chiqua pushed the staircase up the
side
of the freighter, adding pole extensions to the supports as the structure moved to the top deck
of the freighter.
Phillip watched the Chiqua build a
scaffold so that many Indians were hoisting and
pushing the staircase upward. He watched them hoist the staircase and watched them use
their
strong bodies as the staircase rose slowly to the level of the deck.
The drums pounded louder as the
green-caped Chiqua moved aside and stood on the
edges of the pier and assumed the double triangle salute.
Phillip glanced toward the beach
where the pier ended and the waves lapped the sand.
Phillip’s heart beat quickened as deck hands removed a section of the railing and the
staircase
landed on the deck. The winds whipped up, changed direction, and died down in a repeated
crescendo. Phillip observed the Chiqua fasten the bottom section of the stairs to the
pier. No
part of it is moving. It’s motionless. And, it’s time to leave the freighter,
he heard. Phillip
turned to his brothers and said, “Shall we?”
He stepped up onto the platform
landing and raised his arm toward the sky. Fifteen
thousand Chiqua warriors, soldiers, bearers and engineers went to their knees and became
silent
and motionless. They bowed their heads in tribute to a new god and then looked up at Phillip
and cheered as he descended the stairs.
Phillip stepped elegantly down the
staircase, followed by Richard, then Timothy, David
and finally Daniel. The spectacle told the Chiqua that they were entering a new age of
power,
dominance, and their years of waiting would prove to be worthwhile; their wealth,
knowledge
and power would increase, because of the Thomas Expedition and the new
Kol.
Phillip stepped off the stairs and
onto the pier. He recognized jade and jeweled stones:
diamonds, emeralds, amethyst, sapphires inlaid into the wooden planks and pilings.
They look
like they’re covered with varnish! As though they are held in place by a
glossy varnish. They put
jade figures and precious gems in wood they occasionally use as a pier? What
wealth!
He looked down at the kneeling
Chiqua, took off his gloves, cape and jacket, and finally
his white shirt. Phillip handed his clothes to Fortesque as LeQuois followed him along the
pier.
Phillip moved his body slowly and
majestically like the lead dancer in a ballet. He looked
at each the Indians on the pier and touched them, causing them to shout,
“Kol-Chief!”
He turned so that the multitude of
Chiqua, on the pier and on the shore could easily see
his upper body, arms, and wavy brown hair. He stepped purposefully along the pier, walking
closer to one side then the other and allowed the Chiqua to touch his body: his chest, his
neck,
his arms, his hands, and his face. Each of the other four young Kol followed
Phillip toward the
shore with their upper bodies uncovered. The Chiqua touched them where the Chiqua
desired
to touch them.
They’re touching me all over
my body, Timothy thought.
They touch you’re body in
friendship and with hopes that your power will make the
same part of their bodies strong. The multitude continued their soft prayers.
Wish I understood their
prayers, Phillip thought.
As he moved closer to the shore
Daniel observed a line of Chiqua warriors approaching
them, leading large white llamas, decorated with gold and tan leather saddles, stirrups and
reins.
Tiny copper bells hung from the heads of the llamas, their large brown eyes blinking as
though
excited. The jingling bells grew loud as the line of warriors and llamas came closer.
Phillip stepped onto the beach sand
as two Chiqua warriors stood giving the double
triangle salute. LeQuois and Fortesque sorted the clothing and dressed Phillip.
The Chiqua Chief walked up to
Phillip touched his chest and belly with the palm of his
hand and bowed to Phillip, reverently. The Chief turned and held the gold reigns of the
llama
tight. The llama remained motionless. LeQuois and Fortesque checked Phillip’s attire
and lifted
Phillip up on the llama and into the saddle.
Phillip settled himself wiggling his
seat in the saddle, squeezed the llama with his
powerful thighs, felt that he was indeed a leader, and watched Richard, Timothy, David and
Daniel mount their llamas. Now I know what all the dreams about riding big furry
animals was
all about, he thought. Yes, he heard. Gold and tan leather in the reins;
gold in the saddles and
stirrups, even gold on the hoofs of the llamas. Before we leave, he thought,
we’re going to have
gold up our butts.
He moved his hips in the saddle,
getting the feel of the leather, pulled back on the reins,
with both hands, held his reins high, rubbed his manhood against the horn of the saddle,
welcomed the feeling, narrowed his eyes, raised his right arm, and pointed his hand toward
the
distant snow-capped mountains. He shouted, “Tapree Kol—I am
Chief!” He heard the response
of the Chiqua many miles ahead of him on the walkway. He heard the roar of the thousands
of
Indians behind him from the beach. They answered, “Queepwa twa—I greet
white gods, and
Queepwa twato—I greet great leader!”
“You’re the boss,
Timothy said, reining his llama to follow Phillip’s mount. Timothy
liked the feeling of power. He liked the strength he felt in his young body.
Richard’s arms pulled back
on the reins and he was pleased by the response of his llama.
His arms and shoulders seemed stronger than usual. He inhaled, pulling his stomach muscles
taught, felt the strength in his buttocks and hips and squeezed his mount turning the llama to
follow behind Timothy and his Att.
David looked at his upper arms,
held the reins with his right arm and turned his llama
to follow Richard and his Att. He felt his biceps, rubbed his thighs and looked forward to
arriving in the Palaqua.
Daniel turned his llama behind
David and settled himself in his saddle. Daniel smiled as
his Att and wondered if he could get his llama to rear on its hind legs. He heard the answer,
No!
The young Kol
proceeded up the five foot wide stone walkway that led away from the
ocean. As Phillip’s llama crossed the crest of the first sand dune he looked back
toward the
ocean, smiled at his four fraternity brothers: he waved and they returned his greeting;
became
aware of the fact that each of the young Kol had one their Att in front of them
and one behind
them: both riding a large brown and tan llama; he turned around looked forward down into a
small desert valley and was aware that several thousand Chiqua, dressed in the green capes
and
trousers were moving rapidly ahead on the walkway. The Chiqua units moved like huge
military
units ahead of the young Chiefs.
He saw the head of the column
starting the climb into the foothills of the Andes. He saw
the last of the supplies coming off the boat and stopped his llama for a short time to watch
the
dismantling of the pier. Phillip’s fraternity brothers imitated Phillip, turned in their
saddles, to
observe the pier as it was dismantled and disappeared slowly from sight. Hundreds of bearers
carried sections of the pier bringing up the rear of the column.
Phillip looked ahead then glanced
down the beach toward the South. Why do I want to
go South? What is in the South of Peru for me? What is it? Will it happen? He
squeezed his
llama, it bellowed in response, and his llama sped forward. Phillip made no attempt to catch
up
with the last cadre of Chiqua Indians still marching quickly toward the mountains. He looked
directly ahead, toward the snow.
The winds became fierce as the
column moved across the desert and into the higher
ranges of the Western Andes Mountains. Richard watched Timothy and Phillip riding ahead
of
him and Daniel and David to his rear. Thousands of Chiqua ahead of us and thousands
behind
us. Strange we don’t see other Indians, he thought.
Why strange?
You would think on a walkway
that’s in this good condition, like this one, you would see
other travelers, traders or other Indians.
They’ve been detoured. This
walkway is clear all the way to the Palaqua.
Why?
For several reasons. We want the
presence of you young Chiefs to be a mystery. And, we
want your presence to spread from mouth to mouth. After all, you are gods, you
know..
Are we really gods to these
people?
Close enough, Richard heard
recognizing Jeunleu’s humor.
What are those smaller
buildings that we’ve passed next to the walkway?
They’re rest buildings. A
traveler may rest overnight or eliminate waste...
Oh, really?
Yes.
What are they called?
Cleeto-way station, he
heard.
We must stop soon then,
Richard thought.
“Hey, Dex,” Richard
shouted. “You gotta take a leak or anything?”
“Yeah. I’m getting
there,” Timothy said turning and looking at Richard.
“Me, too,” Phillip
shouted.
“See that stone building on
the right ahead about a mile?”
“Yeah,” Timothy and
Phillip answered.
“We’ll stop there,
OK?”
“Can’t wait,”
Phillip said.
“Amen,” David
shouted as Daniel laughed.
Daniel looked up into the high
peaks of the mountains. The saddle rubbed his body as
the llama moved rhythmically along the walkway. Daniel’s mind wandered into a large
dimly
lighted room. He watched as his chocolate stained body walked slowly toward a young
Chiqua
woman laying on a large wide bed.
He took off his bright red
headdress, slipped off his gold upper arm bands, his wristlets,
his battle belt, put his hands through his suspenders and pushed his battle armor down to the
floor and stepped out if. He slipped out of his sandals, knelt on the bed and lowered his body
next to her on the bed. He ran his hands over her face, her neck, breasts and stomach,
looked
at her deep brown eyes, and kissed her. He ran his tongue over her lips and sucked gently on
her lips. She received his tongue and ran her tongue over his, while she gently rubbed his
belly,
and massaged his penis. He closed his legs tightly on her hand and rolled over on top of
her.
Daniel’s llama followed
loped up to the hitching post and stopped. The Att and other
Chiqua soldiers were waiting to help Daniel off his mount. They bowed as he got down,
adjusted his uniform, and followed him into the way station.
Daniel observed Timothy and
Richard being dressed by their Att.
“You guys finished?”
he asked.
“Yeah,” they
answered.
“Where’s the
crapper,” Daniel asked.
“Next room,”Timothy
said.
Daniel walked through the small
doorway and saw David and Phillip squatting, their
trousers and undershorts held by their Att. They squatted over square holes in the floor.
They
supported their bodies by holding onto metal handles anchored in the walls near each hole.
“More fun that it looks,” David laughed. “It works! Take
off your pants and undershorts,”
David said. “Your Att will help you.”
Daniel turned and faced his Att.
They lowered his trousers, then his undershorts. Daniel
stepped out of them. He grabbed a handle and squatted.
“Hey this is easy,” he
said, laughing. “You guys got anything to read?” They shook their
heads. David signaled Trevain that he had finished. Daniel watched Moraine approach David
and hand him a folded white cloth.
“Like this?” David
asked his Att.
Moraine nodded.
He dropped the cloth into the small
square hole in the floor and stood up. David spread
his legs as his Att dressed him.
Phillip motioned for his Att.
Fortesque handed Phillip a white cloth.
“Hey that feels good,”
he laughed. He dropped the cloth into the hole and stood on the
platform.
Daniel finished and looked at
Coutrois. Pinaise handed him a white cloth. Daniel
observed that Coutrois held a clean pair of undershorts.
“You saw what
happened?” Daniel asked looking at Coutrois.
Coutrois nodded and held
Daniel’s undershorts for him to step into. Coutrois helped
Daniel put on his undershorts. Daniel heard, You must be patient a short time longer.
Daniel
looked into Coutrois’ eyes. Coutrois returned his gaze but did not speak. You
are a man and
your natural instincts want you to reproduce. Coutrois adjusted Daniel’s
undershorts, tapped his
hips, and held his trousers for him. You must wait a short time longer. Be patient and
try to
understand. Your time will come, Daniel heard, I promise you.
Daniel pulled his llama forward alongside David and they rode together talking and looking
at
the mountains. Timothy moved forward rode his llama alongside of Phillip. “How are
you
doing, Phil?” he asked.
“OK,” Phillip
answered. “Anxious to get to the Palak and the Palaqua, aren’t you?”
Timothy nodded his head and
pointed to the green column of Chiqua moving up toward
a mountain pass. “Impressive huh?” he asked.
“Impressive,” Phillip
answered.
Timothy noticed a change in
Phillip. He felt that he should leave Phillip to his own
thoughts, slapped him on his shoulder, winked, and reined his llama behind Phillip
again.
Timothy watched his llama’s
ear move forward then backward and down as the
expedition moved in the mountains. He saw a fork in the walkway ahead and noticed many
cadre, hundreds of the green cloaked Chiqua, moving rapidly up the right path, while other
hundreds, Phillip’s Att and the remainder of the of the expedition continued forward
and up the
mountain. What’s going on?
The Chiqua have a word for
it, but we better understand it as a diversionary tactic.
Why?
Other tribes, like the Michus, Inca
and smaller civilization have spies and they’re
probably watching us.
Do the have binoculars?
No. Not that we know,
anyway.
Then they can’t see us: Phil,
Dick, Danny, Dave, and myself.
We think and hope that they can.
The units marching up the right cutoff will prevent any
sizeable penetration of our route and thus guarantee safe passage for the new Chiqua
Kol.
Timothy smiled at Graves then
turned his gaze toward the mountains. He looked at the
snow, the high peaks, watched the short grasses blown by cold, shifting mountain winds. He
listened to the mournful sound as the wind whipped around the uniforms and watched the
capes
swinging in the winds as the column moved forward. He thought about DeLong University,
the
past semester, Danny’s Julie, Dr Champion, wondered where Ferris had vanished to,
what he
was doing, hoped that the Frosh Men’s Choir would still be intact next semester, and
realized
that he missed school at DeLong. He recalled when Charlie McAnn returned to the house,
not
feeling well, but not down with the flu yet.
Timothy walked down the front
stairs just as the front door opened and Charlie entered
and walked up the stairs. Charlie was coughing.
“Bad cough, brother,”
Timothy said. “You got cough syrup?”
“Don’t have time for
that now, Dex,” Charlie answered coughing harder and holding
onto the top railing. Timothy steadied Charlie to keep him from falling.
“Charlie, you’re sick.
You’ve got the flu,” he said looking at Charlie’s face.
“Cut it out, Dex,” I
don’t have the flu. I just don’t feel good. I’m tired. I’ve been awake
for almost two days.”
“Why?” Timothy
asked.
“Let’s sit down on the
couch,” Charlie said pointing to the closest leather couch in the
living room.
“Sure,” Timothy said.
Charlie sat in the corner of the
couch and took a deep breath. Richard, Richard Thomas,
Jackson, Mississippi, blonde, straight, light, blue, 180, 6 feet, walked into the room
and crossed
the room. He stopped and looked at Charlie. “I’ll get some tea, Charlie,”
he said.
“Good idea, Dick,”
Charlie said rubbing his head. “Get me some aspirin if you have
any.”
Richard moved quickly down the
front stairs into basement and the kitchen.
“Dex, do you remember the
Booth family? Remember when I asked you and Dick
Thomas to come to one of my sermons? We went to that little church over in Big
Creek?”
“Yeah. Yes, now I
do,” Timothy said.
“Well that whole family is
down with the flu and that’s where I’ve been. I can’t go on
by myself. I need some help.”
“You got it,” Timothy
answered.
“What do you mean? You
mean there are guys here that aren’t sick?”
“None of us in the pledge
class are ill,” Timothy said proudly.
“What?” Charlie
frowned. “What the heck. Are you guys special?”
“Guess so,” Timothy
responded joking. “Dick Thomas and I will go with you tonight.
You are going back tonight, right?”
“Right,” Charlie
answered, sounding puzzled.
Richard walked slowly back into
the room carrying a large cup of tea. Charlie took it,
thanked Richard and sipped the hot tea. “Tastes good,” he said. “So, none
of our pledges are
down with the flu?” He blew on his tea and sipped.
“We’ll get our stuff
together. How soon do you want to go?” Timothy asked.
“In about ten
minutes,” Charlie said, “All the youngsters are down with it.”
“Who are they?”
Timothy said, standing up.
“Parker, he’s
twenty-one, the man of the house, the farm I should say, his sister,
Pamela, who’s twelve, and then seventeen year-old, Stuart.” Charlie stood up
and handed the
empty cup and saucer back to Richard. “Thanks,” he said. “I feel better
now. Such good
looking kids, hard workers, trying to run that farm by themselves, trying to get educated. I
wish
I could help them.” He walked toward the swinging door that led to the front stairwell.
“My
car’s parked in front. Get in when you’re ready. I’ll meet you there in a
few minutes.”
Charlie drove his old Ford onto the gravel driveway of the small, yellow farmhouse. Charlie
stopped the car and the three men got out. They walked down the rutted driveway, Timothy
noticed an old tractor and a barn that needed repair, several chickens pecking the ground and
lightning blaze like wire streaks across the sky. Thunder sounded as they opened the screen door, walked
onto
the rear porch, and they opened the door to the odor of vomit, body odor, and stale
air.
Timothy and Richard followed
Charlie into the kitchen. “Start boiling some water on the
stove,” Charlie ordered proceeding into the next room. Richard laid his bag of food,
tin cans,
and medicine on the table. He saw that there was no indoor plumbing and he would have to
go
outside to a pump to get water to boil.
Timothy followed Charlie into the
small dining room and saw a young man laying on a
daybed. “That’s Stuart,” Charlie said pointing to him. “Let’s
get him cleaned up first. Charlie
walked into a side bedroom. He walked back out and leaned against the doorjamb. He
covered
his mouth. “That place is a mess, poor guy. Can’t keep anything
down.”
Timothy heard Richard come into
the kitchen. “How soon for hot water?” he shouted.
“About twenty minutes,” Richard answered. “I’ve got a big tub on
the stove.”
Timothy laid his gym bag on the
small dining room table and walked back into the
kitchen. He looked at the huge copper wash tub on the stove. “You lifted that wash
tub filled
with all that water by yourself?”
“Yeah,” Richard
responded, “and I lighted the two burners on the stove too. They have
gas.”
“Look at them
muscles,” Timothy giggled, laughing at his English and bending Richard’s
arm. “Make it hard, guy,” he said. “Wow! That’s a hard
muscle, indeed.”
He always knows what to
say. Richard turned slowly and looked around the room, looked
at the poverty on the floor, in the torn linoleum, the walls that needed painting, many years
ago,
the cracked plates, saucers, cups, laden with germs, bent forks, spoons and dull knives.
Got to
change this! Just got to! Richard saw lightning light up the darkness, heard the thunder
roll in
the distance, and listened as the rain hit the top of the house, rolled down the roof and down
into
the yard in a steady waterfall. Richard gathered pots and pans and set them under the falling
water. Anger overcame him. Fuck the pump. Fuck the flu. Fuck all this shit.
Richard dipped a large bowl into
the warm water. Not boiling, but warm anyway. He
lifted the bowl and took it to Timothy in the dining room. Timothy had changed clothes and
wore only his khaki shorts and crew-necked undershirt. He was barefoot. “Good
idea,” Richard
said. “I’ll change too. But first I’m going to mop these floors.”
“Good,” Timothy said
looking down at the frail body of Stuart Booth. Timothy watched
Stuart breath heavily, saw his ribs and realized he was very ill. He’s so thin. He
seems like he’s
in so much pain. Why? Richard walked back into the kitchen. Timothy slid moved
Stuart to one
side on the daybed. He’s so light. He tried to feed him water. He put his
fingers into Stuart’s
mouth. He watched him breath unevenly. Timothy dipped his fingers in the glass and placed
drops of water into Stuart’s mouth. Stuart’s tongue licked Timothy’s
fingers and sucked them.
He opened his eyes and licked the moisture of his lips. He was startled.
Timothy looked at Stuart’s
dark blue eyes as he struggled to keep them open.
“My mouth’s
parched,” Stuart said. “I’m obliged, suh.” He licked his lips and didn’t
take his eyes off Timothy. “I gotta think on your name...”
Timothy smiled at Stuart, heard the
sound of mountain folk, and held Stuart’s head while
he dripped water into his mouth. Stuart swallowed slowly, struggled to keep his eyes open,
to
see Timothy, and grimaced.
“My name is
Timothy.” He dropped more water and rubbed his lips. “Does your belly
hurt?” Timothy asked.
“It hurts a purpose,”
he answered slowly putting his hand on his stomach. “It hurts a
mighty from throwing up. It’s peculiar, at least to me,” the boy responded as
his voice trailed
off.
“You need more water,
Stuart,” Timothy said rubbing his lips.
“That wouldn’t
pleasure me,” Stuart said softly as he opened his eyes. He was surprised
that Timothy called him by name. “I got no thirst. My belly hurts. It’d pleasure me if
you put
your hand on my belly and press it hard. It hurts a plenty.” Timothy pressed hard
against his
stomach and felt gas pockets.
Stuart licked the water from
Timothy’s fingers, swallowed, and tried to smile. “It comes
to me, I seen you ’afore,” he said. “But I hain’t made your
acquaintance.” He looked at
Timothy. “What are you called, agin?”
“Timothy Dexter,”
Timothy said, wringing out the wash cloth.
“I watched you playing
running game last fall, behind the stadium, when you wore those
tight little pants,” he said weakly. “Does DeLong pleasure you?”
“Yes, Stuart, DeLong
pleasures me, ” Timothy said, wiping Stuart’s face with the warm
rag. “Take as much water as you can.”
“Does that game pleasure
you?”
“Yes,” Timothy said.
“Why are your playing
britches so tight? You can almost see....”
“I picked up the wrong pair,
I was late and figured it didn’t matter.” He wiped Stuart’s
face. “But you’re right, Stuart, they were too tight.”
Stuart nodded. He grabbed
Timothy’s arm. “You were good, though, suh” he added.
“Those other fellers came at you a fierceness.” He stared at Timothy.
“We stayed long. We
were obliged git sooner being that Parker hadn’t gotten more farm
work.”
“Parker?” Timothy
asked.
“My big brother, Parker Lee
Booth,” Stuart said frowning. He moaned again. “Ah
reckon he’s here somewheres. Is he ailin’ too? I don’t rightly recall...”
He put his hand on
Timothy’s leg. It’s festerin’ me if he’s ailin’. I better git to
sittin’ up and be takin’ notice.”
“Just lie still, Stuart,”
Timothy said. “Your brother’s gonna be fine.” We’re gonna make
you and your brother feel better..”
“And Pammy?”
“And Pammy
too.”
“Much obliged, suh,”
he said and closed his eyes. “It’d pleasure me if you would help
my big brother. He’s a feverin to marry. He needs to marry...”
He has no strength,
Timothy thought. He tried to feed him water faster. “Hey, Dick!”
he yelled. “Bring me a cup of that soda. He’s keeping this water down. He
washed the front and
back of his body as Stuart went back to sleep. Timothy partially uncovered Stuart, washed
his
thin body, put one of his clean undershirts on Stuart, over his head, and pulled it down to his
waist. He slipped a pair of Att undershorts on Stuart, covered him and tucked the blankets
high
around his neck. Timothy rubbed Stuart’s lips and he shuddered. He opened his mouth and
Timothy dropped soda water into his mouth. Stuart smacked his lips and continued sleeping.
One
down, two to go. Timothy wiped his face with the warm wash cloth.
Charlie came back into the dining
room, walked over to the daybed and placed his hand
on Stuart’s forehead. He’s still warm, but he’s cooler than he has been.
Let’s give him some
aspirin. If he pukes then maybe he needs to. If he doens’t, well, We’ll thank
The Lord.” Charlie
walked back into the small bedroom to continue working with Parker.
“You need help in
there?” Timothy asked.
“Give brother Stuart the
aspirin then come in here,” Charlie said.
“Timothy, Charlie,”
Richard shouted from the other bedroom. “Come in here! Come in
here!”
Timothy ran to the doorway,
looked at Richard standing motionless with the mop in his
hands. He stared at Timothy. Timothy walked over to the side of bed and looked down at the
little girl laying in it.
“She’s not breathing,
Dex,” Richard said, covering his mouth.
Timothy knelt down, lifted her
small limp hand, and felt her pulse. Charlie ran into the
room and knelt next to Timothy. “My Lord,” he said and bowed his head.
“She’s with Jesus,
now.” He started to pray and buried his head in the bed covers.
Timothy continued to stare at the
still face, the dark eyebrows, the soft brown curls, the
pale lips, and still body. He waited for her small breasts to rise and fall hoping that she was
asleep. She’s so still, he thought. So quiet. Dear child. He
put his hand across Charlie’s back
and hugged him. “I’m sorry, Charlie,” he said. “We tried so hard. You
did your best.”
Charlie was silent for a short time,
then stood up, wiped his face and pulled the sheet
over Pammy’s face. “She’s with Jesus, now,” he said.
“Let’s go see if we can save the other
two.” He walked out of the bedroom, blew his nose in the hall, and continued into the
small
dining room. “We’ve got to call a doctor to get a death certificate,” he
shouted back at his
fraternity brothers.
Timothy stared at the outline of the
small body, turned and looked at Richard who
remained expressionless. “I’ve never seen a dead person before, Dex,”
Richard said with
difficulty. “She was so quiet. So still,” he said. “She was dead when I
came in the room.”
“Shh!”Timothy said as
he picked up the mop bucket, the mop, held them in one hand
and put his arm around Richard. “We tried, Dick. Lord knows that.” They
walked out of the
bedroom. “We got two guys in here we have to tend to. Stuart’s still
ailin’,” Timothy said
sounding like Stuart.
“I heard him talking to
you,” Richard said, smiling. “He likes you, Dex,” Richard said.
“I guess so,” Timothy
answered. He turned and closed the door to the bedroom.
Timothy was partially aware of the passing scenery as he recalled the Booth week-end. He
knew
that the procession had moved higher into the mountains and looked ahead to see a wide
opening
in the dark mountain. The llamas ambled slowly up a ramp and entered the wide
opening.
Timothy looked at the ceiling and sides of the hole in the mountain. It’s either a
natural cavern
or a fine job of somebody’s engineering, he thought. Timothy slapped the rump
of his llama, it
snorted, and moved alongside Richard.
“Hey, guy,” he said,
throwing his hood backward and off of his head. “We’re getting
higher in the mountains and yet it seems to be getting warmer. What do you think? My
body’s
getting warm.”
“I agree,” Richard
said, “mine, too!” he added looking around the large cavern.
“When your folks came here
before, did they come this way?”
“I don’t think
so,” Richard answered. “They disembarked father North. I’m sure. But
the Chiqua empire is somewhat larger today than it was then too,” he said as their
llamas carried
them out of the cavern onto a large walkway that contained patterns of granite colored
rock.
“What’s the
pattern?” Timothy asked.
“Look’s like a giant
jaguar,” Richard said. “Look! It’s green. Must be jade.” He
pointed
to different places in the walkway. “Look over here. Look at the different shades of
green.”
“Hey, Dick,” Timothy
said. “It’s not a jaguar. It’s a leaping jaguar. A giant leaping
jaguar!”
“It’s the beginning of
Chiqua territory,” Phillip said looking back over his shoulder,
rubbing his butt, first one cheek then the other cheek.
“How do you know?”
Timothy shouted.
“My heart told me,”
he answered. He turned around, facing forward again, pat his llama
on the side of her long neck and said, “Mi Quechua!—my llama!”
and raised his arm in the
direction of the high side of the mountain. An immense section of the side of the mountain,
on
the other side of a wide abyss, started to move toward them and down. It’s lowering,
like a
drawbridge! Like a huge drawbridge. The five young men watched, their
eyes wide, as part of
the mountain bowed toward them. The wall lowered slowly and came to rest on the edge of
the
walkway, at the head of the leaping jaguar. It touched the walkway with only a soft pressure.
No dust. “See! what did I tell you?” Phillip shouted. He rubbed his rump
against the hard
section of the saddle. “My butt hurts!” he shouted. He reined his llama up onto
the wide bridge.
“Vamanos, mia perla—Let’s go, my pearl!” he said softly to his llama. This
bridge must be
twenty feet across! Perla snorted as she ambled across the bridge. Phillip took great
pains to not
look down into the deep canyon below. He motioned his brothers to join him. He motioned
them
forward.
The strong winds whipped the
capes of the warriors and soldiers as they stepped up onto
the bridge and continued marching four abreast into the darkness of the entrance to the
Palaqua.
They passed the young Kol and maintained discipline even though many of the
warriors and
soldiers desired to touch their Kol. Some of the soldiers passed the young Chiefs
and ached to
be closer to their bodies. Warrior hearts were lightened when the Kol waved to
them. Soldiers
knew that the Kol could never die and imagined that they would die—give their
own lives—and
wait for the promised one—if only they could touch the young Kol. Some Chiqua
touched their
Kol with their hearts, and they were full of pride as they marched past the five
young gods on
their royal llamas.
The young Kol never saw the tears
of loyalty they caused in the legion of Chiqua
warriors, soldiers, bearers, and engineers as the Chiqua marched past them, in the direction
of
the royal city of the Chiqua—Palak. They moved rapidly into the wide entrance of the next
mountain and quickly out of sight.
It’s not far now,
my children, Richard heard and looked at Phillip, who glanced at him.
Richrad knew that Phillip heard the same prediction. He heard Timothy say, ’Good!’
and Daniel
say, ’I can’t wait to see the real Palaqua.’”
Their llamas stepped down off of
the bridge. “It’s wood! I thought it was rock,” Daniel
said aloud to himself. He leaned down, looked closely, and got a better look. It’s
configured to
resemble brown granite!. Wow! Somebody knows what they’re doing here! A whole fucking
drawbridge that disappears, looks like granite. Looks like the side of a mountain! Wonder
how
they raise and lower it? Daniel laughed aloud again when he heard, It takes a
thousand Chiqua
to raise it and only a few to lower it.
Indeed, he heard. Daniel
turned toward Pinaise and smiled. Coutrois blinked knowingly.
The procession continued inside a long warm passageway glowing with deposits of jewels of
every color, and veins of gold in the floors, walls, and ceiling of the long tunnel. The llamas
snorted as though they knew it would soon be feeding time. The cavern opened wide and the
walls became various shades of green.
“Jade!” David shouted
and pointed to the ceiling and walls. David’s mouth was wide
open as his llama walked slowly past the jade walls interlaced with gold. Not real. Not
real.
“Easy, mi grande ojo—my big eyes,” he said patting his llama’s rump.
“You’ll be home soon.”
Timothy speculated that there had
not been any mining conducted in this cavern in a long
time. Maybe never. It looks more like a holy place than a mine. Don’t see any
tools. He looked
in the direction they travelled and felt the excitement in his llama. “We’re going home,
mia
melocoton—my peach,” he said squeezing her sides with his legs. “Be patient,
my friend.” He
leaned back on his saddle taking pressure off his buttocks, lifted his body into the air and
allowed his peaches to carry him slowly through a sacred place.
Richard knew that this cavern was
described in a section of his grandfathers’ log of the
First Thomas Expedition. They didn’t come in from this end though. I never read
anything in
grandfather’s writing about a cavern or place in the mountain as beautiful as this! He didn’t
describe the huge drawbridge. I would have remembered that! He felt his male llama
sway his
hips nad bump David’s llama. “No, mi amigo—no, my friend,” he said as he
reached down and
put his arms around amigo. “Amigo—friend wants to kiss
Melocotón—peach,” he smiled.
“I want to kiss something
too,” Timothy replied. “I’m not sure that I can handle another
banana. It’s so hard now,” he added.
Richard looked at his brother and
understood. “Vamonos, mi amigo—Let’s go, my
friend,” he said reining up on Amigo’s bridle. Amigo licked his bit.
Yes. You must remain vital!
“I know,” Timothy answered aloud, “I know!” he answered
with a tone of beligerance.
Richard turned in his saddle and
looked at Daniel. He reined Amigo to slow down and
waited for Daniel to ride closer. Daniel looked at Richard but didn’t see him. Richard heard
Daniel breathing rapidly. “Has it happened again?”
“Twice since we crossed the
valley,” Daniel said, catching his breath.
“Good for you,”
Timothy chuckled. “Teach me how to do it, will you”
“Don’t joke, Dex,”
Daniel replied, bending slightly forward. “It takes a lot out of me.”
But I like it.
The cavern narrowed and the
llamas proceeded down the center turning left and moving
into a long hall. Square corners and flat ceilings, Timothy observed. What
are all these gold
statues? He reined Melocoton closer to gold statues, reached out and touched one as he
passed
it. Soft gold. What’s inside?
Chiqua are inside.
What?
We are in one of their tombs.
A tomb? Timothy shouted in
his mind.
“It’s gold leaf,” David
offered. “Look how they honor their dead. Sort of like
Egyptians.”
True, the young men
heard. They listened. The Chiqua embalm, actually the coat the
dead with resins, let is harden, wrap the boy in brilliant bright white coton—cotton, then
cover
the body with gold and gold leaf. The entire closure is then placed on a pedastal, just like a
statue and placed in a burial chamber. The voice was silent for a short time.
Then they wait.
“What do they wait
for?” Richard asked looking at his Att.
They wait for a light-skin God to
return to earth and take them with him. We thought
we had induced the legend, but we have come to understand that the legend is older than our
arrival at the Palaqua.
“Where are you guys
from?” Phillip asked, winking.
The minds of the young men were
quiet. There was no response.
The young men glanced at the gold statues as they passed them and urged their llamas
toward
the light. As they got closer they saw that the long tunnel was turning again. They saw a
wide
white balistrade, with carved railings and posts and looked beyond the bannisters out into a
wide
expanse of sun drenched jungle, sprinkled with different sizes of clearings.
Timothy reined melocotón
next to Phillip’s perla—pearl and jumped down to the granite
surface. Some of it’s granite and other sections look like marble, he thought
scanning the
walkway underneath his feet.
You’re right on both
counts.
Why the combination?
Timothy bent down and rubbed the granite, then the green and
gold streaked marble slabs.
Artistic license. The
combination doens’t seem to have a significant meaning.
The young men looked at the gold
burial statues as they approached a bright light directly
ahead.
“How many statues are
here?” David asked.
“Thousands, it looks
like,” Richard said.
“What is that bright light
ahead?”
“I hope it’s daylight!”
Timothy shouted.
Richard dismounted, brushed
against Timothy, and they walked to railing together. “Even
the railing is marble,” he said looking down at the rails. He paused and grabbed
Richard’s arm.
“Hey! Look here! Do you see this?” he said pointing to a railing with spears
around it. This
one’s an Indiana, this one is a shield, here’s a machete. Look familiar?”
“The stairway to the jungle
at the Lands,” Richard said softly. “My grandfather, mother
and father, were here,” he said and closed his mouth trying to control his
emotions.
“It’s OK, Dick,”
Timothy said pulling Richard close to him. “We understand.”
Phillip approached Richard and
stood next to him. He put his hand on Richard’s
shoulder. Daniel and David joined the group. Richard turned and acknowledged their
presence.
“I’m OK,” he said. “Thanks.”
Richard looked past his fraternity
brothers and noticed the Att standing behind them
looking out over the landscape. “How much farther to the Palaqua?” he asked.
“Not much
farther at all,” Graves said. “Look! It’s right there!”
The five young Kol
looked at Graves. They saw the direction Graves pointed and looked.
“I don’t see it,”
Richard said.
“Where is it?” David
asked.
“Where?” Daniel
asked.
“Could it be?” Phillip
asked poking Timothy. “I see it!”
“I think I see it, too,”
Timothy said. “Look, there it is!”
“Oh yeah,” David said
softly, “by golly, it’s big.”
“Wow!” Daniel said
slapping Timothy on the back. “The whole fucking jungle!”
Indeed, Richard said to
himself.
Indeed, the Att responded.
“Shall we stop for the
night?” Garman said.
The young Chiefs agreed. Garman
walked slowly up wide marble stairs that led into a
doorway in the wall. The Att bowed and followed the Kol up the stairs.
Ivy Walls, Book 3, Chapter 51
Novel List 
Cast of Characters
Chapter 39
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