The Ugly One (6 page)

“The mother decided it was time to set things right and true. One day she visited her son's
wasi
. He was sitting outside, enjoying Inti's warmth.

“‘Mama,' he said, ‘what a wonderful surprise. My wife is at the lagoon, but when she returns, we will eat. You must join us.'

“The mother hadn't expected such an invitation and was pleased. Still, she had questions, and she was not to be distracted. She began asking her son about his strange woman and where their corn came from. At first the son was strong and refused to answer his mother. But she continued to nag at him until, finally, he revealed the secret agreement he had made with the star woman never to look into her cooking pot. He made his mother promise not to tell anyone of the secret.

“‘Of course, my son. Now, why don't you go get this woman of yours, and we can feast together as a family,' she said slyly.

“As soon as her son had gone, the mother went inside the
wasi
. There on the fiery stones of the hearth was a
manca
, hot and bubbling. Carefully, the mother lifted the lid and looked inside. Three small kernels sat in the boiling water. Only three kernels! How could this be?

“The mother went outside just in time to greet her son and the star woman returning from the lagoon. The star woman offered a quiet, shimmering smile to the mother. ‘Let us eat together,' she said. They entered the
wasi
, and the star woman walked to her pot. When she looked inside, instead of a steaming heap of fine white corn, she saw only three lone kernels, the ones she had placed in the pot day after day.

“The star woman knew she had been betrayed. With tears in her eyes she said, ‘It is time for me to go.' She ran straight toward the lagoon, with the brother following closely behind, screaming for her to come back.

“‘Stop!' he yelled after her. ‘You will drown!'

“But she didn't stop, and here an amazing sight was seen. The star woman appeared to both sink into the lagoon and rise up into the sky at the same time. The brother knew then that he had lost his star woman forever, and he was fiercely sad.

“Soon after, the brother found the cob of corn the star woman had stolen from him so long before. It was missing only three kernels. In her honor, the brother planted all the remaining kernels, and it is said that the finest white corn grew from them. This is how white corn came to be on earth, in honor of the star woman and her beautiful golden-white hair. It is also said that the mother ran away in shame and that the brother joined the star woman in the sky when he died. So it was and ever shall be.”

“So it was and ever shall be,” we chanted together.

Papa yelled out, “And that's why we men should never, never look into a woman's cooking pot.” Papa wasn't the only man who was afraid to look into his wife's
manca
. Many of the men felt it was bad luck to do so. There were nods of agreement and snorts of enjoyment. The
aca
was all gone, but the laughter it brought was still present in many of the people.

Uncle Turu smiled and moved away from the fire. The people groaned in disappointment.

“One more!” they cajoled. “Just one more story, Turu!”

Pleased, Uncle Turu resumed his place in front of the people. “Which should I tell?” he asked, stroking his chin with his fingers.

Ucho's voice rose from the crowd. “How about the one in which the lady marries a condor?” He and his group snickered, and several of the boys looked my way.

In this story, a condor falls in love with a lady and tricks her into becoming his wife. She has to live up high in his nest, dirty and ragged, eating rotten meat.

Sumac was asleep on my shoulder, his head turned around so his beak rested in the downy softness of his back. He was a handsome bird and didn't eat meat of any kind. He also was not my husband, but this wouldn't matter to Ucho. I stood quietly and moved away from the fire. I was sorry to leave. The story was one of Uncle Turu's favorites. He liked to stretch his arms in condor flight and then wrap them around his body to become the poor woman huddled in a cold, shivering ball.

“Where are you and your bird husband going, Ugly One?” Ucho hissed after me. No one else noticed or turned. Such was Ucho's power over me, that his words could push me away from the one place where I could be truly happy. I didn't look back, but I could hear Uncle Turu's sure voice, already captivating the people. “
Ñawpa pachapi
, once upon a time . . .”

8

T
HE
time of the first rains arrived, but still Inti beat his golden rays down upon the hard, dry earth. No shoots showed from the fields where we had planted, and the people were restless and irritable. Some carried a look of quiet worry on their faces. Some whispered that soon the very stones would explode with the heat, that we would all go hungry. Boys who should have been covered in wolf skins, protecting the new growth from hungry animals, had nothing to guard.

Ucho sat in the center of the village with his younger brother, Muti, teaching him the complicated game of
conkana
. They kneeled over the board, and Muti threw the wooden dice and moved his colored bean with a sly smile on his face. Ucho pretended to scowl, but he also put his hand on Muti's shoulder in proud support. Seeing Ucho make this small gesture of kindness and caring somehow hurt me more than any of his harsh words ever had.

Mother had asked me to collect some plants for dyeing, and I wanted to ask her a question before leaving. I shouldn't have walked through the village to find her. I should have walked around the outside. And I certainly shouldn't have paused to watch the boys playing their game.

Of course Ucho sighted me there with Sumac perched proudly on my shoulder. Sumac was still young, but his feathers were bright and bold now, and he surveyed the world with the air of a fine nobleman.

“It's the Ugly One and her filthy bird husband,” Ucho said as he rose from the game. He strode quickly to us, Muti following right behind. “Perhaps I'll get you some rotting meat so you can have a proper feast.”

Ucho squinted and moved closer to Sumac. The Handsome One crouched low on my shoulder and swayed slowly from side to side. His beak opened, and he made a sharp hissing sound, as if in warning. I had never seen him behave this way.

“Filthy pest!” Ucho said, and he poked a finger into Sumac's beautiful red belly.

Old Sutic, who had been dozing against a wall nearby, stood as if to intervene, but before he could say a word, the Handsome One took action.

With a loud squawk, the bird lunged at Ucho and grabbed hold of his nose with his strong beak. Blood spurted, and Ucho screamed in anger and surprise while Sumac held on with fierce determination. With one hand, Ucho clutched at his bleeding nose. With the other he grasped for the bird, who squawked once more and took off into the air. It was his first flight, and he wobbled unsteadily as he rose higher and veered to the left. I think he was as surprised as I was to find himself flying.

I pushed past Ucho, trying to stay beneath Sumac's flight path so I wouldn't lose him. I was frightened. What if he soared so high, he couldn't come back down? What if he became lost in the mountains? He wouldn't know how to care for himself. And I would be alone again.

I need not have worried. At the outskirts of the village, Sumac slowed his flight and skidded to a landing outside the great Paqo's
wasi
. Then, looking pleased with himself, he puffed out his feathers, gave a great
braaawk
, and waddled into the Paqo's home as if he were a welcome and expected guest.

I hesitated outside. Sumac seemed uninjured, but I didn't think the Paqo would appreciate his intrusion. Carefully, I slid past the hummingbird weaving into the
wasi
, hoping I wouldn't be interrupting an important ceremony.

The Paqo sat on the ground with Sumac perched on his arm. As he wiped Sumac's beak, which showed traces of red from his attack on Ucho, the shaman smiled and nodded his head, and I was struck by the feeling that the two of them were having a true conversation. There was a familiarity in their movements that made me wonder if Sumac had visited the Paqo before, without my knowledge.

“Don't worry. Ucho will be fine. I'll treat him when he comes to me later,” the Paqo said, and I wasn't sure if he was talking to me or to Sumac.

“I don't think Ucho will ever be fine,” I muttered.

The Paqo looked up with a bemused expression, but it was to Sumac that he spoke. “So she
does
have a voice.”

Sumac bobbed his head up and down. He did this often to show he was pleased with himself, but now it looked as if he was agreeing with the shaman. The Paqo cocked his head at the bird. “Perhaps. We shall see.” Sumac spread his wings and flew over to me. His claws curled into my shoulder reassuringly as he landed, his bird body a welcome weight.

“Ucho is cruel,” I said hotly. And then I spewed forth feelings I hadn't shared before with anyone. “He is very cruel. I would stomp him into the ground if I could. I would feed him to the serpents. I would tie him to a rock for many days and nights and listen to him cry out for water, and I wouldn't move to help. Not at all.”

The Paqo replied in a tone that was much calmer than mine. “All creatures serve a purpose. If it weren't for the boy, you wouldn't be here now, speaking your mind, showing you have thoughts other than how to hide. He has given you courage.”

I spoke more quietly now. “He is the reason I hide.”

“Ah. There is strength in this new voice of yours. But it lacks wisdom.”

The Paqo's comment made me bristle. I believed he was wrong, for I thought myself wiser than most. But I wasn't about to argue with this powerful man.

The Paqo stood and joined me, pulling aside the door weaving to reveal the trees outside. “Learn the lessons hidden in the leaves.”

This was riddle talk I didn't understand, so I said nothing.

“See how the wind blows the tree?” he went on, pointing to a young
molle
. “Do the leaves fight the wind? Of course not. Are they angry because it moves them back and forth? No. Does the wind change the nature of the leaf? Not at all. The leaf is. You have allowed the wind to change your nature.”

I didn't care much then about the leaves and the wind. “But Ucho stings at me all the time. I am tired of it.”

“We all have our troubles. Cruel words. No rain.” I couldn't tell if the shaman was mocking me. “You have chosen your way.”

“I never chose this!”

His face softened. “No. No, you did not,” he said gently, staring at my right cheek. “But you choose to fight what is.”

The wind shifted direction. With it, a sense of unease filled my chest.

“They are coming for the bird,” the shaman said.

These words immediately filled me with fear. Of course they were coming for Sumac. He had bitten Ucho. They would kill my beautiful bird, my one true friend. My entire body began to tremble. What was I to do?

“He attacked a member of the
llaqta
,” the Paqo stated.

“Ucho attacked him first.”

“The bird is a menace.”

My shaking stopped at this accusation. Here I met the Paqo's gaze and held it firmly in my own. “You know he is not.”

The shaman smiled fully, the gap in his top front teeth a message of enjoyment. “You presume to tell the great Paqo what he does or does not know?”

It was because of the smile that I was able to reply, “Yes.”

“They will see the bird as a threat. Does this not make him a threat?”

“I don't know how to answer your questions. You speak in riddles that I don't understand.”

“Ah! The new voice speaks first with strength and now with wisdom. I will discuss the matter with Yawar. It is time for you to leave, for soon they will arrive with the injured boy.”

I nodded. It wouldn't be safe for Sumac if Ucho and the others found us now. Better to hide and let hot tempers cool.

As I turned to flee, the shaman chuckled. “So you see? You came when the bird told you to,” he said.

Sumac squawked and bobbed his head up and down once more in agreement, as if the two of them had conspired to bring me there.

“You will come back tomorrow.”

“I will?”

“Yes. There are many hidden lessons waiting to be seen and heard and felt. They want to be understood. I will reveal them to you.”

I had no time to reply. As I slipped away between the trees and branches, careful to avoid the path of the people, my head was busy with fierce wonderings. How could the Paqo have known what had happened? I had not told him that Sumac had bitten Ucho, yet the shaman was clearly aware of the attack. I eyed Sumac warily. Exactly how much had he shared with the great Paqo? But these questions were tiny pebbles compared with my mountainous wonder at what had just happened. I was fairly certain that I had become the apprentice of the great Paqo.

***

I stayed away until it was time for the evening meal. The moment I entered the
wasi
, Father put down his bowl of stew and began screeching. “Where have you been? Yawar was here looking for you! You have shamed us all with that creature of yours!”

Mama studied Sumac atop my shoulder. “Will they kill the bird?” she asked quietly.

“I don't think so. The Paqo said he would speak on my behalf.” I took my place on the floor and poured a bowl of stew for myself.

“Why would he do that?” Chasca asked.

A worthwhile question. I was uncertain of the true reason, so I offered the simplest explanation. “I am to study with him.”

The entire family went silent at this.

“You are to study with the great Paqo? Such an honor! How did this happen? What spirits smile upon us to bring such good fortune?” Papa was clearly pleased. He viewed the world with an eye for status and power. I smiled, glad that I had made him proud.