Flesh: Prologue

The translator couldn't help but laugh at Summer's spiel. "Looking on the bright side?"

"It's all up here," the girl replied, point at her head. But the fantasy tropical vacation did have a few drawbacks. "Can you turn around?"

"Turn around?"

"Yes, face the other way. I need to use the 'facilities.'"

Having Otoniel turn around while she squatted in the dirt away from the hut was actually fairly ridiculous, being that there had to be a dozen Huaca men and women watching her every move. She had relieved herself yesterday morning with only a small audience, but as the day had worn on, she had realized that she was never going to be able to piss without someone watching. It was still mortifying, of course, but she had grown to accept that she didn't have any alternatives. But while the watchful eyes of the Huaca didn't bother her as much as they had the day before, Summer still didn't think she could let Otoniel see her squat like that, out in the open.

Under the waterfall, as Summer rinsed the dirt from her body and her hair, she played back the scene that had unfolded the night before. A jaguar, a jungle cat, had found her half-asleep outside, sniffed her once or twice, and then just sauntered back into the shadows. Should she tell Otoniel? Should she have Otoniel tell Pachacamac? What if the cat came back that night?

Ultimately, as Summer waded hip-deep in water back towards the shoreline, she decided to keep her encounter to herself. She had been terror-stricken the night before, but with the encounter behind her, there was something almost magical about it. Sharing such a meeting would somehow pollute the mysticism, and Summer couldn't see much harm with keeping the jaguar a secret. At least for now.

Breakfast, as it had been the day before, consisted of fruits and bread, with a few pieces of stale cheese that Summer wished she'd never put into her mouth. Unlike the day before, however, Otoniel was always hovering around her. Breakfast wasn't spent with Chasca and Yana, but with Chasca, Yana, and Otoniel. And though it was somewhat nice to know what Chasca and Yana were saying, Summer was soon wishing that it had taken her translator a day longer to fix the jeep. Having him there, constantly averting his eyes, constantly on guard against others coming too close to her, only served to remind Summer how naked she really was.

She put up with him, however. He was looking out for her best interests, and if he made her a little more uncomfortable than she already was, perhaps it was worth it. Perhaps it was worth having someone else around to look out for her, to prevent something bad from happening. Perhaps.

"Naked," Otoniel translated while Yana and Chasca were bathing behind their curtains again. Though Summer hadn't understood what the women had been saying about her the previous night, she had remembered the words themselves, and "calato" was the first she asked Otoniel to translate.

"And 'sumaq'?"

"Beautiful," Otoniel replied.

Summer blushed. She had thought Puka and the others had been making fun of her, but instead they'd been commenting on how beautiful she was. "What about 'yuraq'?"

The mestizo laughed a bit. "White."

Summer looked down at her body. After spending the entirety of yesterday in the Bolivian sun, she certainly wasn't as white as she'd been two days ago. But even with her body beginning to darken with an all-over tan, Summer was pale white against the dark, brown skin of other women in the village.

She talked with Otoniel for a while longer, and had the translator teach her more and more Huaca. "Ari" was "yes." "Mana" was "no." She learned body parts, from her "chaki nanu" ("ankle") to her "pupu" ("bellybutton") to her "makis" (hands) to her "ñuñus" (breasts). And she tried stressing to Yana that the curse afflicting the Huaca villages throughout Valle de los Reyes was nothing more than superstition, and that Yana should sleep with Pariacaca to prove it so. But Yana was like her father, and sex out of wedlock was completely unthinkable to the Huaca, and wedlock without children was more of a disgrace than remaining single.

The morning passed slowly, but without incident. Summer passed most of it continuing her Huaca lessons with Chasca and Otoniel, lying on her back by the pool. If she was going to be stuck outside, in the nude, then she was going to leave Hanan Pacha with the best tan she'd ever had.

Most of the men in the village had disappeared into the fields and the jungle again that morning, but began to drift back around noon, carrying a lot more food than they had the day before. When Otoniel asked Chasca about this at lunch, he was told that there was to be festival that evening, what Chasca called "Phancha."

"Phancha?" Summer asked, not quite sure that she liked the sound of a party. She had the feeling that, instead of passing the evening getting drunk on chicha with Otoniel and Pachacamac's family, she was going to be made the center of attention.

Otoniel looked a bit baffled. "It's like a spring festival, a celebration of the start of the growing season." He paused, furrowing his eyebrows in confusion. "I don't know why they're celebrating so late in the season, though."

Summer knew, however. "It's because of me, isn't it? This was probably decided upon since I got here, since I've been chained up here alongside the chief's house."

It was evident that Otoniel shared the same opinion, but he pretended as if he didn't. He shook his head, saying, "No. Phancha has never been about guests. If this were a party for you, or a party because of you, she'd be using a different word."

He pressed Chasca for more information, but the chief's wife remained tight-lipped. She gathered up the bowls and the left over empanadas, ignoring the translator's continued questions.

The two outsiders watched as the festival was prepared. Smoke from cooking fires emanated from huts all over the village, flowers were picked and strung together on long pieces of twine, and Catequil, Pariacaca, and a number of other younger men hiked up and around the cliff above the waterfall. Summer wasn't happy about being stared at from a whole new direction.

Apotequil appeared an hour or two after lunch, as Summer and Otoniel were watching a pair of teenaged girls perform a dance called the auqui-auqui from afar. And, as he had done the previous two days, he produced the belly-chain, large silver pendant and all. Summer didn't even have to be directed to do anything - she simply stood up and turned around, presenting her backside to the priest.

Otoniel, though, had suddenly gone blank. And after muttering something to himself and telling Summer he'd be right back, he dashed away from the pool, out to beyond Kulli's hut, where the jeep was parked.

Neither Apotequil nor Summer had any clue what had just happened, but the Indian man fastened the twine together at the top of Summer's buttocks, and the pendant once again found its way to its resting place on top of her pussy.

Apotequil took a few steps a way, intending to return to whatever it was that he'd been doing before adorning the biologist with the jewelry. Summer began to hunker back down on the dirt. Neither of them, however, completed their actions, due to the Ambrosia Pharmaceuticals jeep that was barreling up the main road of Hanan Pacha.

Otoniel, behind the wheel, slammed on the brakes just feet from where Summer and Apotequil were parting ways. He slid out of the vehicle quickly, brandishing a handgun in one hand and a set of bolt-cutters in the other.

Barking at the elderly priest in Huaca, Otoniel put himself between Summer and Apotequil, pointing the gun directly in his face. Apotequil backed away slowly, but the shouting and the roaring engine had brought attention to the three people by the pool. Catequil, Pariacaca, and some of the other young men that had been up above the waterfall for most of the afternoon reappeared on the far side of the Clemente, all with concerned looks upon their face. Mancocapac, joined by villagers from all over Hanan Pacha, flowed down the street and towards the commotion. Pachacamac and Chasca emerged from their own hut, Pachacamac wasting no time in adding his voice to the cacophony of shouting.

Summer still had no clue what was going on.

Pachacamac's progress towards the outsiders was halted when Otoniel directed the gun at him, and as other Huaca came closer to the scene, the translator kept redirecting the pistol, keeping them as far back as he could.

"Hold the gun!" he ordered Summer in English. "Hold the gun!"

Summer did as she was told, taking the weapon from the mestizo, and swiveling her body to hold back the crowd that had begun to encircle them. Otoniel, meanwhile, used the bolt-cutters to snip through the chain without difficulty. He tossed the tool towards the jeep, and snatched the gun back from the naked blonde.

Grabbing Summer's right wrist in his left, Otoniel yanked the girl behind him as he walked towards the driver's side of the jeep. In the process of doing so, he made sure to direct his gun at anyone standing in his way, clearing a path from Summer's broken chain to their getaway car. Still screaming at Apotequil and Pachacamac, he pushed the girl into the jeep, and, sans clothing, Summer crawled awkwardly into the passenger's seat. She understood very little of what Otoniel was saying, but she did hear the name "Sipusiki" and the word "raka." Otoniel carefully backed in behind her, sitting down without once shifting the gun from the people closest to him. And, in one fluid motion, the mestizo slammed the vehicle into reverse, tearing backwards through Hanan Pacha.

Looking back into the crowd, Summer noticed that there wasn't anger on the faces of the Huaca, but rather disappointment.

The translator didn't slow down until he finally reached the last in the row of houses that lined the village's small street, and only then did he quickly turn around and speed forwards out of Hanan Pacha.

"That charm that you're wearing," Otoniel asked through clenched teeth as they bounced along the dirt road, "that was the same one that you were wearing yesterday? The one that I saw the priest take off you?"

"Yes," Summer replied, realizing that it was the first word she'd spoken since the whole incident had begun.

"Mierda!" Otoniel cursed, banging his fist against the steering wheel. "I should have noticed yesterday!"

Still naked, and gripping the arm rests of the passenger seat for dear life as they bounced down the dirt road, Summer tried to get a grip on the situation. This was because of a piece of jewelry.

"What just happened?" the blonde asked, grabbing at the seatbelt next to her. She pulled the shoulder strap down between her tits, somewhat shocked to find that her nipples were rock-hard.

"That charm that you are wearing around your waist?"

"Yeah?"

"It's a fertility charm."

The pieces fell into place in Summer's head. The women of Hanan Pacha couldn't conceive children, but the Indians hoped that they'd be able to have a baby with an outsider, a blonde, an American. That must have been what the festival was for - they were going to try to get her pregnant. Disgusted, Summer spat out, "They were going to fuck me after all. They were just waiting for a party."

"No," Otoniel replied, contradicting Summer's theory. "You are an 'uywa.' You are a domesticated animal."

Summer's head was spinning, still trying to sort out everything. On top of that, her breasts were beginning to hurt as they bounced wildly around on her chest, the jeep hitting pothole after pothole going full tilt.

"You need to slow down," Summer told her translator. "We must already be a mile out of Hanan Pacha, and I seriously doubt that the Huaca can run forty-five miles an hour."

Otoniel complied, but only slightly. The jeep continued its rapid escape from the Indian village.

"We'll stop at the camp, pack up everything that is necessary, and take the road towards Guayaramerin," he told the girl.

Summer nodded. "Otoniel! Otoniel! You need to tell me what is going on. Why did we just run away? What is this pendant that I'm wearing? And why were you shouting about Sipusiki and my cunt?"

Though the translator was visibly shaken by the girl's choice of words, he did his best to explain to her everything that had just transpired. "Phancha is more than a spring festival. It is a fertility festival, celebrating new life of plants, animals, and even children. The word "phancha" itself is derived from the Huaca term for "blossoming," the way a flower opens up."

"But if they're not going to sleep with me, then what am I wearing this pendant for? How am I involved?"

"There is a ritual - I should have remembered this sooner! - There is a ritual, known as T'ojsiy. In times when the Huaca believe that they owe an apology to the fertility goddess, they make a sacrifice to her, using livestock. Uywa. You."

"They were going to sacrifice me?" Summer honestly couldn't picture Apotequil killing her. She had never felt in harm's way with him.

"Not in the manner that you are thinking, Doctor Monroe. The word 't'ojsiy' itself means explosion. Like fireworks. Or like an orgasm."

Summer still wasn't quite sure what Otoniel meant. Brow furrowed, she began, "But if they weren't going to fuck me, then how..."

"I don't know the English word for it," the mestizo replied. "Like a stick. A fake penis."

"Dildo."

"Dildo," Otoniel repeated.

The Huaca were going to have her dildo herself to orgasm, believing that doing so would appease a native fertility goddess, who would then allow children to be born to them once again.

No, she wouldn't be the one using the dildo, Summer corrected herself. She was livestock. Uywa. Someone was going to do it to her.

"But why me?" Summer asked, staring blankly into the jungle that was rushing past her window. "Why not real livestock? Why not a llama? And for that matter, why not one of the women in the village? Yana? Puka? Kulli?"

"I don't know," Otoniel replied. "They must have already tried. Perhaps this spring, at a Phancha they may have already held. I don't know."

"Do you think they tried with another girl?"

"I don't know. I have never seen the T'ojsiy performed. I had forgotten all about it. I haven't heard of it being performed since I was a little boy."

There was silence from both the biologist and the translator as Summer came to grips with what the Huaca wanted her for, what Otoniel had explained to her, and with what she was now considering.

"Stop the jeep," Summer finally said, after spending almost five minutes gazing silently at the glove compartment.

"What?" Otoniel replied. "No!"

"Stop!"

"No!"

Summer was getting angry now that Otoniel, who was technically her employee, was not listening to her. "I said stop."

The translator considered the order for a second, guessed the distance he had put between them and Hanan Pacha, and slowed the vehicle. He threw up his hands in exasperation as they came to a full stop, and turned to the blonde. "What?"

"I need to go back."

Otoniel had heard enough. He reached for the shifter, intending to put the jeep back in gear and continue towards the camp. But Summer reached over and pulled his hand away. She was serious.

Otoniel could tell by looking in her eyes that her mind was made up. He couldn't mistake the determination there. But she didn't know what she was doing, she didn't understand the full implications of what she was saying.

"No," he said firmly.

"Yes," she countered.

"No."

"Otoniel, you were hired to help us. You were hired to take us where we wanted to go. And right now, I want to go back to Hanan Pacha."

"Doctor Newcomb hired me," Otoniel corrected her. "And he hired me to translate for you in Bolivia, to protect you out here in the Oriente, to look out for your best interests when dealing with native Bolivians and campesinos. And this, Dr. Monroe, is not in your best interest."

"It's not," Summer agreed. "But what are we down here doing? Studying frogs? Otoniel, I've been studying amphibian biology for at least five years now. And what has come of it? What has my research ever done for other human beings? Nothing.

"You know, and I know, that this curse of Sipusiki is preposterous. These people have convinced themselves that they can't have children, and therefore don't even try to have children. And I can tell them again and again that it's just a self-fulfilling prophecy, but they're not going to believe me.

"But for some reason, they seem to believe that me having an orgasm will somehow appease their angry goddess, and that they'll be able to have children after that. And if I suffer a little more humiliation - okay, a LOT more humiliation - then isn't it worth it?

"I'm not going back there to get off. I'm not going back there because I'm some sort of exhibitionist slut. I'm going back there to give people like Yana and Pariacaca hope. I'm going back there to convince them that their curse is over, and that they should at least try to get pregnant."

Summer looked over at Otoniel, believing that she'd persuaded him to drive her back.

But Otoniel hadn't been won over. "No."

"Fine," the blonde replied. "Then I'll walk."

She unclipped her seatbelt, opened the car door, and stepped out. She slammed the door behind her, and began padding barefoot back towards Hanan Pacha along the muddy road.

Otoniel let out an exacerbated breath. Turning, he stared after her as she began her long hike to the Huaca village. Her blonde hair was tied in a ponytail behind her. The necklace full of jaguar teeth still hung around her neck. The belly-chain hung loosely over her hips. And a good foot and a half of chain, still locked around her left ankle with the combination lock, dragged behind her. Her bare back was facing him, her tight, tanned ass wiggling back and forth as she walked away.

***

"What am I doing?" Summer asked herself under her breath. The long speech she'd just given was as much about convincing Otoniel as it was about convincing herself. The last thing she wanted to do was what the Huaca were essentially asking of her. She had thought about masturbation the previous night, in the dark. She had thought about it during the day yesterday, wondering to herself about whether or not the men on the shore were erect.

Well, she mused, if they weren't hard yesterday, they're sure as hell going to be hard tonight. Maybe they'd put their hard dicks to good use and actually sleep with some of the women in the village.

The thought of the entire village of Hanan Pacha returning to their huts, all having sex at the same time, did amuse the naked blonde. The idea that they might be thinking about her as they did so excited part of her, as well.

Was she crazy? Was she out of her mind? Summer wasn't sure. She knew that once she was back in the village, once she was stretched out on some altar, once Apotequil or Pachacamac picked up the dildo and began to approach her - she wasn't going to feel quite as courageous as she felt now. But as she had told Otoniel, if a little bit of degradation on her part was enough to dispose of the idiotic curse in the minds of the Huaca, then it was worth it. If she didn't do this, then it was very possible that the entire Huaca way of life might disappear in the near future.

Summer heard the engine behind her roar back to life, and sensed Otoniel coming up behind her. When she turned to look at him, she found that he had circled around, and that the jeep was now pointed back in the direction of Hanan Pacha.

"I don't like this," Otoniel said gruffly as Summer got back in the jeep. "And Dr. Szalinski won't like this, either."

"Then don't tell him," the girl replied, equally abrupt. God, please, please don't tell him, she thought to herself.