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 be hninxa. 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 the wai’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 thing ryuxit among the wai’ichuranan?”
“No!” said Cooksey forcefully. “It is the most siwix thing we can think of. Moie, you must not do it.”
“But it would be a very large good thing if the wai’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 greatest jampiri of the dead people, and so he was worth much more than a little girl. So this is moral philosophy and not siwix at all.”
“No, no, you are mistaken,” cried Cooksey. “Listen, Moie, for this is most important. Jan’ichupitaolik sacrificed himself 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 by chinitxi 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 the unancha, 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 the car.” Here he used the English word and looked briefly at Jenny, who smiled at him encouragingly. “These men, these chinitxi, are all hunters, and one of them is a very good hunter, not as good as me, but good enough to follow the unancha to this place. I tell you this, Cooksey, because you have been a friend to me, and also because the Firehair Woman is an alive wai’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 is interesting 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.”
“I know what you mean,” said Jenny. And after a brief pause she asked, “So you don’t have, like, a plan?”
He burst out laughing. “Yes, my immediate plan is to drink a large whiskey.” He smiled at her. “Well, you don’t seem paralyzed with fear, although I would strongly advise you not to wear any Forest Planet Alliance T-shirts in the near term.”
“I’m fine. It all seems too weird to worry about. And I still feel kind of good. I mean about today.”
“Yes, that’s what messing about in boats will do for you. Saving the news of the apocalypse just now, it was a lovely day.”
“But the weasels are coming.”
“Indeed they are, and the wise thing at this juncture, I believe, is to model ourselves on Rat and Mole, and stick to our cozy burrow, and wait for Mr. Badger to arrive and show us what to do. Perhaps he can save that little girl.”
Thirteen
The restaurant Guantanamera did not collapse when Jimmy Paz announced that he was leaving its kitchen to pursue his father’s killer, which discovery made him feel both less guilty and more miserable: an even split, he thought, or maybe a little better than even, since his mother had been telling him since early adulthood that absent his daily help, ruin faced the family Paz. In the event, Mrs. Paz made a few calls and came up with Raul, a steady man of middle age who not only knew how to grill meat but also followed Mrs. Paz’s instructions to the last tomato, and was not interested in concocting outlandish dishes that had no place in a traditional Cuban restaurant.
Lola was mildly encouraging. It would do him good to get out from under Mom, was the doctor’s opinion, and maybe he’d get used to it. After playing cop for a while, maybe he could think about going back to school. It wasn’t too late: just look at her. Indeed, look at her: she went to work, came home, ate briefly, and then went to sleep exhausted. She had a glazed, frightened look and blamed it on various work-related stresses, although she hadn’t looked like that in her intern year, when the stresses were far greater, and there had been a lot more kidding and sex back then, too. He had a pretty good idea what was going on by now, he could hear her thumping around the house in the middle of the night and he could tell by the pill bottles in their medicine cabinet that she was taking some fairly serious stuff. He wondered if she was an actual addict yet. It happened to docs a lot, he knew, but he’d never figured Lola for the type. So that was another thing on his list, which he decided to cross off before he left the house. Feeling stupid and disloyal he went into the bedroom and plucked a tuft of blond hair from Lola’s hairbrush and in the girl’s bedroom plucked a few darker hairs from hers.
Securing these items in separate envelopes, he turned to something he had more confidence in. He settled
