Authors: Brenda Barrett
What year is this? How much longer before Christopher Columbus paid them a visit?
She shuddered as she thought that all the people in this little settlement would be lost, eventually. They would be overworked, starved, killed and raped.
Could she stop that? Could she rewrite history?
She was in a time that she always heard about, and yet she was stuck to the confines of her surroundings. Jamaica was now a deep tropical jungle: everywhere she looked there were trees, unrelenting undergrowth, and thick patches of bush. The place looked untamed with its faint dirt tracks and its stark purple mountains in the distance.
It was all good and well to think up grand schemes of rescue, but what could she do?
Only Basila believed a word she said, and even, then she only understood what she had told her about Guacanagari’s dream.
The man lived on Haiti, she couldn’t call him and tell him what his dream meant, neither could she call the Lucayanos in Bahamas and tell them to kill the pale men that will approach them in the three ships. Nor did she know if Columbus had already landed on Bohio.
She searched her mind for fifteenth century history. It had to be the fifteenth century because Guacanagari is alive and currently the chief. He would be a friend to Columbus, so chances are the time of the Tainos was rapidly drawing to an end.
She barely knew fifteenth century history, except that the war between the French and the English was soon to end, and that purity of religion was now the order of the day, with the Roman Catholic Church dominating the world. This would be the century when war was fought for religious purity and people were dying for their faith.
“What are you thinking so hard about?” Orocobix whispered close to her ear.
“Fifteenth century history.”
“What is that?” he asked curiously, determined to listen to every word she said.
“The time we are now in,” Ana got up on her elbow and looked down at him. “Time is measured before and after the death of Christ and we are in the fifteenth century after his death.”
“Why would someone want to measure before and after the dead?”
“Because he was special.” Ana rubbed her hand across his jaw. It was prickly with a day’s growth of beard.
“He is the son of Yocahu.” She told him in terms he could understand. Yocahu was, after all, their chief God. The one who controlled all other gods, according to their religion.
Orocobix nodded. “Yocahu has many children.”
“Yes he does, but this son is special and so when he died for the sins of the world, he rose again, and then went to live in Coyaba with Yocahu. He will come again, for all who were faithful to him.”
“I know that,” Orocobix said, surprising Ana.
“Is that a Taino teaching?”
Orocobix nodded, “our people have always known that Yocahu will send his sons and we all live as one, even with the evil Caribs, in a place that is even better than here. It's called Coyaba.”
“And they call you guys heathens,” Ana trembled slightly. “I wonder where you got that spin off from Christianity from.”
“Our fathers…fathers…fathers, we tell stories so that we can remember them.” Orocobix pulled her on top of him. She laid her head on his chest and felt the steady thumping of his heart.
“If I had a ship, or there were airplanes I would go to Europe and intercept Columbus on his way here.”
“You speak in riddles again.” Orocobix sifted his hand through her hair. “Let us bathe in the stream and I will tell my servants to prepare us for our trip.”
“Where are we going?” Ana asked, excited at the prospect of exploration.
“We are going to Maima, to spend time with our families there and then we will come back here and go to Bohio with the elders.”
******
They went bathing upstream, away from the village. The water was cool on Ana’s heated skin and she splashed around and played with Orocobix.
“They laid on the bank together while the water splashed over their legs.”
The people of the village made themselves absent from the area, to give the newly joined couple some privacy.
“Ana,” Orocobix’s voice was husky, “tell me more about your visions for our time.”
“You mean about other places?” Ana asked curiously.
“Yes,” he said and nodded. “There are other places across the sea; the mainland, where people like us reside. My father always spoke of Bimini, the life of the spring waters. Tell me of it.”
“I should have paid more attention in history class,” Ana mumbled. “The life of the spring waters is Florida. It is part of a bigger land.”
How much more could she tell him, without confusing him?
“The people that are there now will meet the same fate as your people, fighting for land that was theirs to begin with, dying like flies and treated like savages by the new inhabitants. The land will be a part of what will be called the United States of America.”
She decided to stick to the fifteenth century history she could barely remember.
How to describe modernism to a man, who did not even know the word sophistication?
“We are in the renaissance era, where there are new inventions such as ships with sails. The time when old masters such as Aristotle and his writings will be revisited. Greek and Roman writings are prevalent now. Men will try to prove that the world isn't flat. There will be a man who will claim to find our world. She gestured with her hands.”
Orocobix nodded, not truly comprehending, just glad that he was hearing her voice.
“Er…the first toothbrushes with hog bristles will be invented in China but it doesn’t compare to these whist you guys have, I'm sure,” Ana said looking at him out of the corner of her eyes and held up a stringy vine that they used to clean their teeth.
Surprisingly, the more she chewed the floss-like vine, working it through her teeth, the cleaner they felt. Not bad, if you had time to dedicate to chewing and spitting.
“The first white wedding gown will be initiated by Anne of Brittany.”
No nude weddings in the sophisticated world.
She thought of her half-naked supplication to Orocobix on their simple, sentimental joining service and felt her skin tingling all over again.
“I can’t believe I am in the same age as Leonardo da Vinci,” Ana said, sitting up straighter. “He will finish his painting of the last supper soon. Or he has already finished it? Who knows?”
She sniffed the air as if she could smell the same air as the artist.
Why hadn’t she awoken in France, when there was war and met up with Joan of Arc. She had liked that movie about her. It would have been nice to meet her.
Why here? Why now?
Orocobix put a finger to her mouth his dark eyes smoldering. “I don’t understand who you speak of, or where, but they don’t affect us Ana.”
“Yes it does,” she said and rolled over on her back. “Events have a way of unfolding and intertwining and affecting us. There are many people on this earth now, who are not living like you. They have huts made from clay. They wear more cotton cloth around their bodies, they have more things, and they can do more things with their hands. They will envy this paradise of yours and turn you into slaves.”
She sighed. “And then there are others, people who are as dark as the earth,” she said and pointed to the earth, “who are held as servants and who are mistreated, they will only be brought in, after you all die.”
Orocobix frowned. “Who are they, the people as dark as the earth?” He was trying hard to forget the statement that they would all die.
Ana could not know this.
“They are called Africans, from a vast land across the sea. The people, who will come here with skin as pale as cassava juice, will kill your people and then bring them here.”
She did not have to ask if he was listening, the grip on her hand, tightened painfully.
“What about your future Ana?” Orocobix asked tightly. “In this future time of yours, would you understand if somebody appeared in your world and told you what would happen to you?”
Ana grimaced and then looked him squarely in the eyes. “I know about my future. We have a thing called a Bible, it’s like a book.”
Orocobix looked confused.
Ana grabbed his hands and squeezed it. “This book tells us: what will happen, who would rule the world, and what will happen when it all ends. So I have an idea.
There are other people who have other beliefs. For instance, that the sun would come near to the earth and burn away all life as we know it, and some other pretty interesting things.”
Orocobix covered his eyes. “I didn't understand a word you just said.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
They left Bieke when the first touches of dawn hit the island. The sea looked gray and foreboding in the distance. Orocobix’s entourage included two servant girls and three male protectors. They were all burdened with big baskets of food. Their naked forms were just shadows as they walked behind Ana and her new husband.
“When you said we were going together, I thought you meant the two of us, alone.” Ana looked sideways at Orocobix as they headed down the well-trodden path of the hill toward Maima.
“I am a chief, Ana. I cannot travel alone. Who would carry our food or protect us if we happen upon enemies?”
“There are no enemies here,” Ana scoffed, “history says after a Carib raid, you continue with your business as if nothing happened.”
Orocobix looked at her hard, “it still hurts to talk about the Caribs and what they did to my family and even yours. This history you speak of is wrong.”
Ana turned her head away from the hurt in his eyes. It was a minor victory that he was referring to history, thus showing her at least that he was entertaining her suggestion that she was not his Ana.
He had stopped trying to tell her that she was Ana and instead was slowly asking her the meaning of a word or two. He was obviously not ready to hear the heavy historical lectures she was gearing up to give him.
“What happened to your family Orocobix?” Ana asked softly, she was trying hard not to wince as the stones in the path pinched her tender flesh. She was not used to walking barefooted, not even on her ceramic tile at home.
“The fierce men came when dark surrounded the village. They went into the Cacique’s house and captured his wives and daughters; they killed his firstborn with an arrow. They then went to the Behique’s house; the medicine man was petitioning for protection from the gods, they snatched him and the gods. He was found later at the bottom of the hill, we buried him in the cave where your brother was buried. They came to our hut and captured my baby sister.”
He shuddered dramatically. “They killed my sister and then they knocked me out. When I came around, the village was on fire. You and I hid in a tree after I found you crying over the still body of your mother. I had nightmares for years; I could always hear my sister crying for help in my sleep.”
“I am so sorry.” Tears filled Ana’s eyes. “I guess there is no peace on earth, even here in paradise. So why do you want us to visit Maima then?”
“Because that is what we planned when we…” his voice petered off and then he frowned, “I want you to see where it all began.”
“That means you believe me?” Ana asked incredulously, her heart doubled its beat.
“It means… I love you Ana.” Orocobix looked serious. His handsome profile stark against the gray of the morning. “It means I am willing to go along with anything. Just be by my side.”
He realized after giving Ana that speech that he was really on the verge of belief. How could she speak with such conviction that what she was saying was true, unless she really knew what she was talking about?
And that strange speech, that she sometimes lapsed into, was very puzzling. The rhythmic quality of her voice would drop and she would slip into a strange language. She was also quite ignorant of their ways, sometimes asking questions of things that should be obvious—everyone in the village was whispering about her.
What could he do but believe her and try not to rationalize the situation? He loved her, he always had and he always will.
“Ana, do you remember that night we went canoeing to Ombi’s tribe?” He looked closely at her face for her response and what he saw there renewed his confusion.
“Ombi’s tribe?” Ana wrinkled her brows and shook her head. “I would want to try canoeing though, I hardly ever get around to doing anything on the sea.”
That was the reason why he was beginning to believe the impossible, she could not fake that look of genuine ignorance. He looked at the bulky trees that surrounded them; he could smell the faint whiff of fish and the earthy smell of the new day.
He was a chief.
Chief of his people, owner of the woman beside him but he had never felt as uncertain as he did at that moment. The fear of the Caribs was very different from the fear of the future that Ana spoke of.
It was the same fear that gave him the warrior’s thoughts. Maybe he was part Carib, whenever he could not conquer the fear, he could feel the need to fight, and then his father’s voice would remind him that they were Taino, the good people. They fought, not with arrows, but with goodness. He unconsciously clenched his fist at the specter of the elders in his mind, as they reminded him of that.