excerpt
when I reached the village, perhaps I would never have
accompanied Pariamanaco back to Saruapo. Possibly I would have
turned and walked into the jungle, welcoming death instead, rather
than witness the dreadful extent of Guacaipuro’s fury and reprisal.
I found Tamanoa’s body tied to the rubber tree. It was the same
place where we had been tied together. Now he was slumped,
Christ-like, battered to death, while I breathed, undeserving to live.
I stepped in his blood with both feet. I raised his head to look into
his face. His once-sparkling eyes were cloudy and lifeless; his
mouth, so ready to smile, hung slack; his shoulders, never again to
shake with laughter, slumped. I embraced him, minding his
wounds, and cried like a child, without the least regard for the
savages who had gathered to watch the next part of the spectacle.
After a long while, I pulled at the hemp ropes that still bound him
with growing frustration. I circled the tree to find the knots and
tugged at them in suppressed rage, aware I was being watched and
that no one made any attempt to help or hinder. I don’t know what I
expected, but this, more than anything, convinced me of the futility
of everything.
My fingers bleeding, I managed to free the upper part of his body,
which now hung forward unnaturally, head first, in his own gore. I
pulled him up and freed his tangled feet, but slipped and ended up
lying with him in the mat of his blood.
At the very least, I could give him a decent burial. I picked him up
as best I could, intending to carry him towards the river. I wanted
to wash him first. I found a serviceable gourd, which I took, not
caring whose it might be. But I did not get as far as the outskirts of
the village before three warriors approached and ripped his body
from arms.
What happened next, I choose not to describe.
They left me only his torso to bury.
The Indians watched me as I manufactured a cross and pushed it
into the soft dirt, then stood at the foot of the grave to survey my
work. I knew this burial process would be reported to Guacaipuro
so I took great care in undertaking a ceremony with dignity.
Libros Libertad 