Excerpt from:

 

The Rain Box

 

Chapter 6

 

It was early morning and the song of the morning birds was too loud. She had drunk too much iztacuctli the night before. She and her mate both had but they had something to celebrate, the spirits of the nearly living had told her that she was carrying a new life! When she had told him, her husband had held her high and proclaimed to all that would hear that he was blessed. Called only two days ago as a member of the Calpulli, now he would have a son to guide to a life as good as his own. He had danced with her high above his head and laughed and laughed.

 

Many friends had come to celebrate with them and some had brought the water ayuctli the sweet intoxicating honey and root drink that always made her sick in the morning. She preferred iztacuctli. It was made from the maguey tree. She loved it’s thicker texture and tangy taste. She knew she would not be able to have it again for a very long time so she had drunk far too much and now she was feeling as if she were on the water and her head hurt… but it had been such a wonderful night. She had finally gotten everything she had asked the witch Mohuituma for, she was happy and rich and her husband was handsome and respected. She spoke to the new spirit inside. “I’m sorry, you will have to wait to rejoice with us but be patient you will have everything you want forever.”

 

Mohuituma had told her to make a sacrifice and she had. She had told her to talk to the spirits and she had.  She had told her that when she had what she was asking for that she must pay, but now that the old witch was dead she wouldn’t have to do that. She was happy and she deserved to be happy. She was the youngest of three girls, her sisters had been twins; a lucky omen. No sons had been born to her father and she had been a disappointment to him, and her mother’s last chance. Her mother had died mysteriously not long after her birth and an aunt who had moved in to take her mother’s place in her father’s bed had raised her.

 

Her sisters had been sacrificed for the harvest on their thirteenth birthday, they were beautiful, tall and graceful and made good wives for the gods. She envied them their life in Iluicatl. They were in the clouds laughing until they cried. She could feel the salt of their tears in the rain. She was too short and wide, the gods had put her here to work, to bear children and to care for the old ones. She had cared for them too, until they had become crazy and too demanding. Then she had helped them find their way to the gods with water that she had stored in a hemlock bucket. In the end they were too sick to remember what they owned and she would reward herself for all that she had done for them. None would miss the small amount she took. It was just enough to buy pretty clothes and headdresses and potions. She had needed them to find a husband and what a fine husband she had found.

 

He had been brought in from a raid on a neighboring tribe to be slaughtered for the feast but he was so tall and had such unusual eyes that the barren wife of a wise man had taken him in as her own and had raised him to be hardworking and popular.

 

He did like his drink though, and one night when he had drunk too much ayuctli with a potion she had bought from Mohuituma she took him to her father’s home and pleased him. Her father had heard their loud lovemaking and had made him promise that he would take her for a wife.

 

She served him well by visiting the witch, who was growing old, and learning her ways. She used her knowledge to make the wise men notice her husband’s hard working ways and popularity. Now it had paid off and she was going to bear the son of a Calpulli. Someday her son would join the Calpulli and one day the Council of Wise Men and she would find a way to convince the elders that her husband had royal blood.  Her son would one day be Speaker and she would be revered as the mother of a god.

Yes, this was the morning she had waited for all her life. Her sisters could have their life in Iluicatl she would make her own paradise right here.

 

A shadow passed over the wall from the window above her. It looked like the shadow of the old witch woman and for a moment she was afraid. She had given the witch the bucket water in her chocolate when she feared the old woman would tell her secrets. She slipped out of the new stone house and stood under the only plum tree in the city. She saw that it was only Mohotl, daughter of Mohuituma. “I have come for the payment.” Whispered Mohotl. “Mother told me last night that you have gotten what you asked for.”

“Your old mother is dead Mohotl.” Ozomatl spat. Mohotl had been her husband’s lover before they had married, it was said that he would have married her once he had saved enough money to satisfy her mother. They had made a pretty pair, tall, thin and light in color. She hated her for having had his love.

“She said that you must pay to me two baskets of plums. If you don’t have enough you must fast for eight days and on the eighth day drink the ayuctli and do what your sisters ask.”

“I cannot fast for eight days. I am carrying new life.” She beamed.

Mohotl smiled a personal smile and looked down at her own belly. Ozomatl understood and seethed within. Mohotl was not married. She knew of no one who had claimed to be with her.

“How dare you steal my moment by claiming that you are carrying new life? Your flat belly couldn’t hold life any more than a flat stone can carry water!” She screamed at the girl, waking up her groggy husband who stood in the window wondering what was going on outside. “You envy me my husband, you envy me my money and now you envy me my child!”

“I don’t envy you anything Ozomatl. I pity you. Your child will be born out of trickery and deceit, mine will be born out of love.” She glanced at the house and sensed movement. Quaipuchtli, the husband appeared.

“Mohotl, do you carry a child? He asked, his voice kind and tender.

“Yes, I do.” She smiled and the blush on her face was unmistakable.

Ozomatl turned to look at her husband and the radiance of his face left no doubt in her mind that her enemy was indeed pregnant and that her husband was the father.

“I won’t pay you money. I won’t fast and you will get nothing of what you came for!” Ozomatl screamed. She would get revenge on her deceiving husband and she would make Mohotl pay for taking what she had worked so hard to get.

 

That night when Quaipuchtli claimed to be going to an impromptu meeting of the Calpulli she snuck into the house where Mohotl lived alone. She heard the breathy voices of her husband and his lover but she only took a knife from a basket. A knife that everyone knew had belonged to Mohuituma. Later she stabbed her husband through the heart and when the road outside was bustling in the morning sat naked beside his dead body screaming “Mohotl where are you going, what have you done, oh what have you done?”

She smiled through her tears as she watched men take Mohotl from her home and lock her up for trial. She may have lost her husband but Mohotl and her baby would die for trying to take away her future and she would still have the son of a Calpulli and would keep what belonged to her.

Howard-Hirsch Publishing

Content for a contented life.