“I am not doing it. I have told you this, but you don’t listen. I will say it once again: first we went to see them and the Monkey Boy said they should not cut in the Puxto, but this dead person Fuentes called for men and they threw us out of that house, like women throw peelings and entrails into the river. I didn’t understand what was said, but that I understood. And this showed me that the Consuela would not listen and would still kill the Puxto. This is why Jaguar killed him, and later this other one. You say that it is bad to kill them, but Father Tim has said that sometimes a small bad thing must be done so that a greater bad thing does not happen. This ismoral philosophy, and this is the way of thejampiri among the dead people. These men of the Consuela Holdings wish to kill the Puxto and all my people, as they killed Father Tim, so it is better if Jaguar slays them first.”
“Yes, but, Moie, there is another way, as I’ve already told you. Many, many of thewai’ichuranan don’t want the Puxto to be cut. They have some of the spirit ofaryu’t in them. Although they are dead they wish for life and so wish to stop these men, just as you do.”
“You say it, but it is hard to believe. Willthey kill the Consuela men?”
“No. This is not the way of thewai’ichuranan in such matters. They will make noises, and make many marks on leaves and thewai’ichuranan will see them and know what the Consuela is doing and that it issiwix, and also, as I said to you once before, they will send their spirits into the spirit boxes in the houses of the dead people and there is a kind of witch we have calledjournalists who will go up to the Consuela men and speak rudely to them and drag them into the spirit box, and so the Consuela men will be ashamed and not do evil things on the Puxto. This is our way. But if they find you have been killing these men it will be different. They will not think about the Puxto, but only about the killings. They will call you aterrorist, which is another kind of witch we have who delights in killing and fear, and they will arrest you and drag you into the spirit box for a long time and you will not be able to stop it. Then the Puxto will be destroyed, because we believe that if aterrorist wishes something to be done or not done, we think it isryuxit to do the opposite.”
Moie thought in silence for the better part of a minute, then said, “I will think about this in my belly and ask Jaguar what to do. Now, I have to ask you one thing and tell you one thing, for I didn’t come here just to play with seeds in a tray. I ask this. Jaguar wants a child to behninxa. Jaguar says that if this child is given, he will have power in the land of the dead people, not just the power of the flesh but also ghost power. It is hard to say this part because it can be said only in the holy language, which you cannot speak. With such power he can make thewai’ichuranan alive again, or some of them, so that they will no longer wish to turn the whole world into pisco and machetes and money things. So I ask, is such a thingryuxit among thewai’ichuranan?”
“No!” said Cooksey forcefully. “It is the mostsiwix thing we can think of. Moie, you must not do it.”
“But it would be a very large good thing if thewai’ichuranan came alive again and stopped ruining the whole world as they do now. Also, Jaguar would not take her unless she wished it.”
“It’s still not allowed.”
“Then I don’t understand. Father Tim said that Jan’ichupitaolik gave himself as a sacrifice, so that the dead people could have life beyond the moon, in heaven, which was a great good thing. And Jan’ichupitaolik was a man and the greatestjampiri of the dead people, and so he was worth much more than a little girl. So this ismoral philosophy and notsiwix at all.”
“No, no, you are mistaken,” cried Cooksey. “Listen, Moie, for this is most important. Jan’ichupitaolik sacrificedhimself to save the world. He didn’t sacrifice a little girl. And surely Father Tim told you that because he sacrificed himself, no other sacrifices would ever be required ever again, by anyone. And also I tell you Jan’ichupitaolik is chief of all the gods, even of Jaguar, and he will be very angry at you and at Jaguar if you do this thing.”
“I hear you,” said Moie in a polite but noncommittal way. “I will also consider it in my belly. But let me ask you this: if Jan’ichupitaolik is lord of all, as you say, why doesn’t he tell the dead people to stop ruining the world?”
“He does, but his voice is very faint. Other gods have louder voices now.”
“Yes, Father Tim has told me the same thing. I think that maybe Jan’ichupitaolik has said to Jaguar, Go and slay, for the world I made should not be destroyed. Do you think this is possible, Cooksey?”
Cooksey slowly shook his head and said in a tired voice, “I don’t know, Moie.”
“Or Jan’ichupitaolik has died and now Jaguar is the chief of all the gods. In any case, I will surely do as he wishes. Now I must tell you a thing. There are new men in the houses of the Consuela. Jaguar has told me. They are men like those who killed Father Tim. They are the dead of the dead, their spirits have rotted inside them and they are hollow and filled bychinitxi instead. I tell you this because I think they will come here.”
“Here? Why would they come here?” asked Cooksey.
“Because of the Monkey Boy and the man Fuentes. Because of theunancha, the totem sign of this place.” Here Moie pressed his hand to his chest. “They have painted it on many shirts. I have seen the Firehair Woman give them to many people for money, and also others in this place do the same, and also it is on thecar.” Here he used the English word and looked briefly at Jenny, who smiled at him encouragingly. “These men, thesechinitxi, are all hunters, and one of them is a very good hunter, not as good as me, but good enough to follow theunancha to this place. I tell you this, Cooksey, because you have been a friend to me, and also because the Firehair Woman is an alivewai’ichura and the gods speak to her, although she doesn’t hear them. As for the others, I don’t care, but you may, if they are of your people. For if they come here, they will kill all, as I have heard they do in villages not far from my home. I will be sorry if they kill you, Cooksey, for it isinteresting to talk with you. This is a word Father Tim showed me. It is like smelling an animal you never met before and you wish to know if it is good to eat or not. Now I am going.”
“Moie, wait…!” said Cooksey, but the Indian moved very quickly, across the room and through the door. Cooksey ran to the corridor, but there was no one there, nor were there any sounds of footsteps on the gravel path.
“What was that all about?” asked Jenny when Cooksey returned, looking dejected. “Bad news?”
“You might say that,” he replied dully, and recounted what he had learned from Moie, Jenny asking anxious questions, and Cooksey answering as best he could.
“What are we going to do about this little girl?” she asked.
“Damned if I know,” he said. “Damned in any case. Christ! What was I thinking putting him in a tree next to a school? I suppose we’ll have to tell Rupert.”
“He’ll call the cops, right?”
“I rather doubt that. Rupert is a good sort, but as between saving the world and looking after himself, the latter usually wins out. And also, can you imagine him going to the police with this story? Yes, Officer, I’d like to report an Indian from South America who thinks he can turn himself into a jaguar and has killed two prominent Cuban businessmen. Yes, he was staying at my house after he killed the first one, but I didn’t report it because I wanted to use him as an environmental poster child. No, Officer, I have no idea where he is now. He’s often more or less invisible. Oh, and there are a group of demons in town, disguised as Colombian gangsters, but I have no idea where they are either. And, yes, one other thing, that Indian is preparing to murder a little girl, or rather the jaguar who doesn’t exist is going to do it. He’s a god, you see. I mean it’s beyond absurd. And also…I’m not entirely sure the police can successfully intervene here. Moie is perhaps not what he appears to be. Perhaps we’re involved in something deeply strange. I speak not as a scientist, of course, but as my mother’s son.”