He was still asleep when I woke, his arm curled about my shoulders and holding me close. I buried my face in the crock of his neck, nuzzling softly. He murmured quietly, then slowly came awake.
"Good morning," I greeted, kissing the sensitive skin under his jawbone.
"Good morning," he said, a smile lightening his dark eyes. He hugged me tightly. "Are you hungry?"
I knew this was his way of asking if I was all right. Whenever I was upset about something, my appetite was the first thing to go. I nodded, sliding out of the hammock and stretching loudly. Incacha grinned as I bent to work out the kinks. I'd slept in all sorts of beds before, from futons to bare ground, but hammocks always made my back stiff. Probably because rolling over was next to impossible, especially when sharing sleeping space. Incacha had been woken more than a few times by my tossing and turning.
The shaman handed me a leather strip that I used to tie my hair back. It was still kind of a novelty to be among people for whom long hair is the norm rather than the exception. I'd taken a lot of teasing about my hair over the years and it was kind of nice to be around people who appreciated it. The young girls were fascinated by its curly texture, and Incacha always insisted that I could have my pick of them if I wanted to marry.
After breakfast were the numerous chores and lessons that made up my days here. As shaman, Incacha was healer, holy man, teacher and spiritual leader for the Chopec and as his student, I was expected to shoulder my fair share of the labor. And there was no shortage of work to do today. Incacha would be busy caring for several villagers who were recovering from a bad fever, leaving the burden of the grunt work to me. There were herbs to be gathered and dried, and the berries that we'd been waiting for had finally ripened. I would have to pick enough to last us until the next growing season. The fruit, dried and pounded unto a paste was an integral component of many of Incacha's potions and cures. I was learning to make them myself, but it would be some time before I was trusted to make them from start to finish on my own.
Finding a basket, I prepared to go out into the brush when I heard someone calling out, "Mapi! Mapi! Wait!"
Grinning at the familiar voice calling out my Chopec name, I turned to find Pucu, Incacha's eldest daughter running up to me. Thirteen and already the subject of much courting and rivalry among the young men, she rushed up to my side and held out a beaded and feathered necklace that would perfectly match the feathered ornaments dangling from my ears.
"What is this?" I asked, admiring the fine workmanship. I knew immediately that Pucu could not have made it. My friend's daughter had many desirable skills that a man might want in a wife, but jewelry making was not one of them. Her knots could trip a jaguar, and I often teased her of that fact.
"Uluru made it for me," she said, smiling brightly at the mention of her best friend. "You have to wear it for the feast tonight."
I looked over at the cluster of young girls who stood back, giggling and whispering to themselves as they waited to see if I would accept the gift. Uluru was the tallest and oldest of them; fourteen, reed thin and very nearly my height. She was now of marriageable age but had not chosen a husband yet from her suitors. I knew that she wanted me even though I never courted her. As Incacha's student and heir, I would have great status in the tribe. Any father would be happy to have me for his daughter, and my looks were considered as exotic to the Chopec as theirs was to me.
Uluru would not give it to me directly, and with Pucu telling me that it was her idea, I was obligated to take it. I wouldn't hurt her feelings for the world, but neither did I want to give her friend hope that there could be anything other than friendship between us. I had very strong feelings about anthropologists getting too close to the tribe they were studying. Close friendships were fine, but marriage was out of the question. I may have lost some of my objectivity when it came to the Chopec because of the length of my time amongst them, but my scientific instincts and morals refused to completely abandon me.
Besides, she was only fourteen, for crying out loud! Maybe by Indian standards she was marriage material but I still couldn't see her as anything more than very attractive jailbait. I had to think of a way to accept the gift without leading the poor kid on.
Looping the necklace over my head, I turned to the group of girls and said, "Thank you, Uluru. My sister is always ashamed of how I look. Now I can walk with pride."
Uluru looked a little disappointed that I deliberately misread the meaning behind the gift, but didn't say anything to contradict me. Forcing herself to smile and laugh, she called back, "Now you look like a proper shaman. Maybe Incacha will let you sleep where you want to now!"
I shook my head, laughing harder now at the very unsubtle invitation. She may only be fourteen, but she certainly knew how to handle a man. "I sleep with my family, like any good young man should. And I must get to my chores now before Incacha catches me flirting with such beautiful girls."
The flock of them laughed and jostled one another, pleased with the flattery. Even Uluru laughed and tittered with the others, her status among her friends raised now that I was wearing her gift. I would have to do something nice for her. Maybe give her a "potion" that would help to win her a husband. Not that she needed much help in that area, but she had to stop mooning after me if she was going to be happy.
Fortunately, sleeping in Incacha's bed kept most of the tempting women well away from me. Not all, but most. A few determined ones still flirted aggressively with me and more than one father has made outrageous offers to Incacha to allow me to marry one of their daughters. Most assumed that I didn't take any of these women up on their offer out of shyness. There was no diplomatic way for me to explain my real reason. Even though I could hardly call my work among the Chopec a scientific study, those kinds of relations just don't sit right with me.
I know that a lot of people who would think I was being hypocritical, since I was involved with Incacha. We do have a physical relationship, but that doesn't mean I'm looking to buy wedding rings. I'd had some experience romantically with men in the past, but not much more than a little kissing and groping. Any relationships I'd had of any duration were with women. Had I not been at least a little open to the idea of sex with a man, Incacha would never have laid a hand on me.
The Chopec had no stigma against homosexuality and could see nothing wrong with my sleeping with the shaman, even though he was married and had children of his own. Besides, I wouldn't exactly call us lovers. He was my teacher and mentor, making me sort of an adopted son. We did sleep together when he wasn't with Eni or Dona and we did have sex. Sort of. One thing we did not have was sexual intercourse. It wasn't as if we discussed the matter, but neither of us seemed to think it would be proper.
If there was any resentfulness about my position in the family, I certainly couldn't see it. His wives had acted towards me like a younger cousin that they loved to boss around and tease. The younger children took to me as if I was a favorite uncle, while to Pucu I was the older brother than she never had. I'd become part of the family. There was no jealousy about my presence in Incacha's bed. It was simply an accepted aspect of our relationship as teacher and student.
It did not take long to fill my basket with the dark red berries and I couldn't resist sampling a few during the gathering process. Medicinal they may be, but they also tasted good and so long as I didn't eat too many wouldn't cause me any harm. I returned to our sleeping area where Incacha waited. We sat together, taking turns with the mortar pounding the berries into a pulp, our hands stained red with juice.
As we worked, Incacha used the time to work with me in developing my own shamanistic skills. I'd asked him before why he was teaching an outsider and not one of the other tribesmen, but he just said that I was to be his student and that was that. He always seemed pleased how quickly I seemed to pick things up. I wonder if the lessons on meditation that I'd taken since I was old enough to walk might have something to do with it.
Teasingly, Incacha reached out with a juice-streaked hand and swiped at my nose, leaving a long red streak and messing up my very carefully done paint. "Hey!" I complained, pulling back to avoid further attack. The shaman chuckled affectionately and ruffled my hair. I reached into the bowl holding the berry paste and got some of it on my fingers, ready to fling it at my teacher.
It took me several seconds to recognize the loud noise that startled us. It certainly wasn't one of the natural sounds of the jungle. I nearly cried out when I realized what I was hearing. Engines. Rotor blades. It was a helicopter and it was flying right over our heads.
Shading my eyes against the sun, I could see that the machine was painted dark green and that one of the side doors was open. Sitting there was a soldier manning the large machine gun fixed their, pointing it down at the village. The soldier's face was smeared with black and green greasepaint, making identifying his race or nationality impossible at this range. The chopper bore no identifying markings, nothing to indicate who it belonged to.
Other members of the tribe had come out to see what was happening. We'd seen military choppers before, but they were always passing harmlessly high overhead. This once was circling over the village. It looked at if they were trying to find a place to land.
My nightmare slammed back to me full force, distorted images of men with guns filling my mind. It was coming true. My worst fears were coming true!
My head shook in useless denial, my eyes fixed on the circling chopper, watching as it started to lower into a landing mode. There was no doubt now that they meant to come to the Chopec. I felt my whole body shaking in fear. The helicopter's engine coughed dangerously and I watched the machine teeter precariously, but the pilot managed to keep it under control until he was able to get it down onto the ground safely.
"No…" I whispered, last night's dream playing out in gruesome detail in my mind. My teacher could read the fear in me, reaching out to touch my shoulder. "Mapi…"
"No!"
Incacha tried to grab my arm as I jumped to my feet, but I was already out of reach. I was running towards our huts, looking for something, anything that could be used to defend my friends. I found my bow and grabbed it. I'd learned to shoot it during my time here and was considered to be a good hunter. I knew my mother would be appalled by my choice of actions, but running was not an option. A single bow against guns was no real defense, though I was sure that I was a good enough shot that I could take down at least one of them before they killed me.
