Flesh: Prologue

Otoniel had trouble speaking at first, losing his concentration due to the scene in front of him. But he coughed, regained his composure, and found Summer's eyes.

"Dr. Newcomb has stabilized," the translator reported. "I didn't get to talk to Dr. Szalinsky myself, because they have made better than they expected. But Dr. Szalinksy left a message with Senor Castillo at the post office."

As Otoniel made his report, Apotequil waded into the water, towards the blonde girl. Summer paid him little attention, even has he bent down behind her and began to remove the belly-chain once again. It was odd, she thought to herself, that he keeps putting it on me, and then taking it off. But she didn't bother fixating on it, more concerned with what the translator had to say. "What else did he say?"

"Not much," Otoniel continued as Apotequil sloshed away from them with the pendant in his hand. "Punchau and he have been applying more of that salve to the bite, and Doctor Newcomb is in better condition than they could have hoped for. Anqas is speeding like a maniac towards Guayaramerin. And the hospital there has been alerted to the fact that they are coming in sometime soon."

"They should already be there by now," Summer added. She wasn't wearing a watch - she wasn't wearing anything - but the sun had just set, and therefore she guessed it to be sometime around seven.

Otoniel nodded. "The message was from seven o'clock this morning."

Twelve hours ago.

If Russ turned around as soon as Walter was safely in the care of the people in the hospital, he could be back in Hanan Pacha by late afternoon the following day. She might only have to suffer this humiliation for another twenty-plus hours. The thought of Russ returning to Hanan Pacha, and finding Summer naked and chained up wasn't terribly appealing, but the thought of remaining naked and chained up for much longer was even less so.

"Anything about me?"

Otoniel nodded again. "Doctor Szalinski expressed his sympathy for having to leave you behind, and said that he hoped Pachacamac was treating you well."

"Fat chance of that," the biologist quipped as she fingered the chain around her leg.

"He said that he thinks they should be back for you by Thursday morning."

Summer's heart sank. Not tomorrow. But the next day. Two more nights of her naked body on exhibit for the Huaca.

"Well," she stated glumly, "I guess that means I get another full day to work on my tan."

Otoniel ventured a weak smile, but he knew how disappointed the American girl was. Still, Summer told herself, at least Walter was doing better. His life and death situation was more important for Russ than Summer's uncomfortable captivity in Hanan Pacha. She took a deep breath, sighed, and decided to not let the frustration show.

Otoniel had picked up a varied assemblage of clothes, equipment, and other items from the Ambrosia camp that day, carrying it back with him in a newly repaired jeep. Summer wasn't going to get her shirt back from Kulli, but Otoniel made sure that she wasn't going to leave Hanan Pacha in just her bra. As Otoniel described the clothes that he had brought for her, Summer couldn't help but wish for this ordeal to be over, for the opportunity to put clothes back on.

Otoniel had also brought equipment to trade with, expendable items like extra flashlights and gas-lamps. He was planning to sleep in the jeep that night, but he made sure that there were enough items to secure something from the Huaca if he needed to. And though the mestizo didn't tell Summer, there was a twenty-two-caliber pistol in the glove compartment, an insurance policy against things taking a bad turn for the outsiders here in Hanan Pacha.

But Otoniel had brought two things that interested Summer the most. The first was a hair elastic, and the biologist immediately pulled her wet hair back into a ponytail. The second was a bottle of chicha, a Bolivian liquor made from corn. Summer and Walter, together, had discovered the joys of chicha in La Paz - before Hanan Pacha, before Valle de los Reyes, before the trek out to the Oriente. It was strong, and Otoniel figured that, given the way Summer had imbibed aqha the previous night, she'd want to again get a little buzzed, and allow herself to be little less self-conscious. He figured correctly.

Summer took a shot of chicha right away, eliciting smiles and laughter from two old men smoking their pipes not far from where Summer and Otoniel were sitting. Obviously, they'd never seen a woman drink that way before, swallowing down hard alcohol straight from the bottle. And, given that the woman was a young, pale-skinned, naked American blonde, Summer was sure the sight was only that much funnier.

Dinner came a short while later, though it was much more formal than it had been the night before. Pachacamac sat with Apotequil, Mancocapac, Otoniel, and a good-looking young man introduced as Pariacaca, while Summer was seated with a handful of women twenty feet away. Judging by the looks shared between Pariacaca and Yana, Summer guess that the man was Yana's boyfriend, or suitor, or fiancé, or whatever the Huaca equivalent was.

Kulli, still wearing Summer's polo shirt, was seated to the blonde's right, and she was joined by Chasca, Yana, and others. A girl named Puka, probably Yana's age, couldn't keep her eyes off of Summer's body, and Summer began to wonder if Puka might be gay. Summer heard three words repeated throughout dinner: calato, sumaq, and yuraq. She made a note to ask Otoniel what they meant after dinner. Yuraq seemed to cause the most laughs whenever it was spoken, and Summer was sure that they were laughing at her. She combated her sense of awkwardness, however, by taking a few more gulps of chicha. The warm feeling brought forth by the alcohol helped fight the fact that she actually felt somewhat chilly, given her wet hair and still damp skin.

Dinner was a fish, called surubi, served with potatoes, or choqllo. Not nearly as spicy as the tacu tacu had been the night before, Summer was able to eat without fear of burning her tongue. She smiled and laughed along with the women around her, not having the slightest idea of what they were talking about. Her limited vocabulary allowed her to understand certain words, like "yaku" for "water," but she had no clue as to what the context was, or why the Huaca women were discussing water.

As it had the night before, dinner ended with Summer a bit tipsier than she had intended. Pachacamac's dinner guests began to depart, Mancocapac soaking up as much of Summer's body as he could before leaving. As Chasca and Yana cleaned and put the food away, Summer got up and walked towards Otoniel and the chief, cringing as she heard the chain dragging in the dirt behind her.

Summer sat down on the dirt Indian-style, without even thinking about how visible that made her pussy. She quickly changed her position, stretching her legs and crossing them out in front of her. But Otoniel had noticed Summer's new haircut in that time, and was obviously shocked by it. He locked eyes with Summer, desperately trying to hide both his stupefaction and his lust. His nervousness and obvious attempts at self-control again got under Summer's skin, and she felt better looking at the chief than her translator.

It wasn't that Pachacamac didn't look at Summer's body. He eyes ran over her legs, her stomach, and her tits even as they were sitting there. But he did so in such a casual manner that it made Summer feel like nothing was odd. Pachacamac would have looked at her like this if she were wearing clothes or if she wasn't. While Summer certainly appreciated this (especially in contrast to the edgy mestizo across from her), deep down, Summer wanted Pachacamac to be turned on. She wanted him to be excited. She didn't want him to look at her and treat her as if her lack of clothing was a mundane thing.

Despite the conflicting emotions, Summer felt comfortable around Pachacamac, the same way that she did around Apotequil. Even with all that the chief had put her through, he still generated a feeling of safety, and Summer knew that he would never do anything to hurt her. Humiliate her, maybe, but nothing that would cause her harm.

Fire flickering a few feet away, Otoniel shared a conversation with Summer and Pachacamac, allowing Summer to ask the questions that had been building up in her mind all day.

"They're waiting for the curse to be lifted," Otoniel translated, after Summer had inquired about Yana and Pariacaca. "Marriage for the Huaca is about more than just the man and woman - it's viewed as the seed from which families grow. Until they believe that Sipusiki's curse has been lifted, they will hold on their marriage."

"So they haven't even tried to have children?" Summer asked. "Whatever is causing the infertility in these people might not be afflicting Yana or Pariacaca. I mean, what about that little boy, Oqe? Surely there must be exceptions?"

Summer waited for Otoniel as the translator communicated the question to Pachacamac. Behind Otoniel, fireflies were blinking against the dark black backdrop of the jungle.

"You are right," Otoniel translated once the chief stopped talking. "Oqe is an exception. Pachacamac believes that these cases are rare, however. Years ago, the village was overrunning with children. But today, Oqe is one of a very few. Married couples, without children, are viewed with a stigma in the Huaca culture."

"So they're just going to hold off, without even trying?" Summer shook her head in disbelief. Whatever it was in the Huaca environment that was causing the impotency in the first place, there was no way to be sure that it was affecting Pariacaca or Yana, not without trying. "How many other couples are holding off marriage?"

"All of them," Otoniel translated after asking the chief. "There hasn't been a single wedding ceremony in Hanan Pacha for years now."

"So what you're saying," Summer began to say, putting the pieces together in her head, "is that no one, in the past however many years, has even tried to have a child? What about all the couples that were married before the curse began? Haven't they been able to have children?"

"That's where the exceptions like Oqe have sprung from. Pachacamac believes that while the curse is cast over the Huaca people as a whole, but it is especially potent over young couples. Sipusiki is angry with Hanan Pacha, Ch'umpi, Sumaq Wasi, Uca Pacha, and other Huaca tribes in the valley."

The water was fine, because Summer and her colleagues would have caught abnormalities during their research. The diets were fine, almost identical to the diets of the Quechua in San Eduardo. It seemed that the only thing keeping children from being born to the Huaca was the Huaca culture itself. They weren't having children because they weren't trying, and they weren't trying because they didn't think they could have children. It was idiotic. It was insane.

"Do you realize how crazy that is?" Summer asked Pachacamac directly. "Just how preposterous the whole thing is?"

Otoniel translated, but the chief just laughed.

"It's not funny! If you'd just let Yana and Pariacaca get married, they could have children! The only thing standing in their way is the fact that they're not having sex with each other!"

Otoniel translated again, though he toned down the exasperation in Summer's pleas.

"Otoniel," the biologist said, turning to the translator, "They're going to wipe themselves out, simply by believing in some backwards curse that probably doesn't even exist!"

Pachacamac stood as he responded to Otoniel, brushing dirt off his pants. He walked away from the two outsiders when he had finished talking, leaving the mestizo to tell Summer what he had said.

"You are an American. And you think like an American. You are a scientist. And you think like a scientist. But the world is more complex than American science can explain. This is a Huaca curse, affecting the Huaca people, because of the displeasure of a Huaca deity. Children will come when Sipusiki forgives the Huaca, when Sipusiki has been appeased."

Hanan Pacha got quiet after dinner. Given that most of the villagers got up with or before the sun, it wasn't all that surprising. But the silence of the small village stood in stark contrast with the squawks, buzzes, and chattering that emanated from the jungle. The previous night, Summer had simply passed out in the dirt outside of Pachacamac's home. Though she had certainly gotten inebriated, she wasn't as drunk as she'd been the previous night, and found herself struggling to fall asleep.

The blonde girl, still as naked as she'd been all day, lay on her back in the dirt, her hair tucked into a ponytail under her and her knees in the air. Her naked slit, now nearly devoid of the hair that had helped cover it yesterday, was pointed away from the chief's hut, directed into the shadowy jungle that lay beyond. Water falling from the cliff above and into the pool helped drown out some of the more frightening sounds of the Bolivian jungle, but Summer was nonetheless unnerved by the occasional growl far off in the night.

They were the same sounds that she'd been hearing for months in Valle de los Reyes, Summer told herself. Nothing had ever tried to get her in her tent back at the Ambrosia camp. There wasn't any difference now. Even if she was outside. And naked. And chained to the ground.

Summer thought about her daydreams that afternoon in the pool, about masturbating herself to release and relaxation. She wasn't quite sure what had come over her, but part of it remained. Could she get away with that out here? No one was walking around town. Everyone was in his or her home. And it was dark enough that even if someone were out, they probably wouldn't know what Summer was doing.

She shook the thought from her mind. She may have been paraded through Hanan Pacha without her clothes, and kept on display at the chief's house for the village to come and stare at, but she wasn't a whore. She wasn't some slut, getting off on the thought of all these people, all these men, all these women, looking at her body.

Was she?

Masturbation fantasies were pushed aside. The stars gave off too much light. It was still too early in the night. And no matter how much she might have wanted to, she simply couldn't bring herself to do so in such a public place.

And so, Summer returned her thoughts to the stars overhead and to the hopes of falling asleep. Like the night before, it was still warm, even with the sun down. Though she had been a bit chilly as the water dissipated off her body at dinnertime, Summer again found herself surprisingly comfortable, dressed in nothing and outside. If anything, it was still a bit warm for her to sleep, though not as bad as it usually was in her tent, dressed in the shorts and tank top that she wore as pajamas. Maybe I need to start sleeping naked when I get back, Summer told herself. That would be a few degrees cooler, in any case.

When she got back. Would they even continue with their research back at the camp? Walter was seriously sick, and in danger of dying. Would Ambrosia keep Russ and her there, even if Walter died? Would they pull them out, even if Walter lived? Though studying the Bolivian tree frogs hadn't been exactly what Summer wanted to do with her doctorate, the thought of leaving the research unfinished was disheartening. Now that she was in Valle de los Reyes, now that she'd seen the astonishing growth patterns of the amphibians, she was genuinely interested.

Summer began to drift in and out of consciousness as her mind hovered over frogs, her colleagues, and her own naked body.

And then, she felt something against her neck. Summer groggily opened her eyes, and found herself staring into the eyes of a big, black cat. A jaguar.

Any drowsiness that Summer had been feeling disappeared instantly. She was suddenly awake with absolute terror, unsure of what to do or how to act. The warmth that she'd been feeling from the balmy Bolivian night vanished, and her blood felt like ice in her veins.

The biologist was still lying on her back, staring up towards the sky. But now a jagaur was straddling her body, standing directly above her and sniffing the necklace that she wore. The necklace of jaguar's teeth.

The cat pulled away from her again, once more locking eyes with the naked blonde. Summer was frozen with fear, locked in her sleeping position, and feeling the jaguar stare her down. This was a female, Summer told herself. She was unsure of how she knew, but she somehow just sensed it.

Seemingly satisfied with Summer, the jaguar gave her one last, brief sniff and then turned towards the jungle. She trotted away, leaving behind a blonde girl that couldn't move, couldn't speak, and could barely breathe.

Summer lay in the dirt, running through what had just transpired. She was sweating profusely, even if her body felt frigid up and down her spine. She wanted to call out, but she wasn't sure for what, or for whom. Instead, she managed to roll onto her stomach, pushed herself off the ground, and crawled on her hands and knees to the water's edge.

Her reflection, as she stared down into the water, was barely visible in the dark. But if she had been able to make herself out better, Summer was sure that she would have been pale white. She let her blonde hair down, pulling out the hair elastic, and splashed some of the water from the pool on her face. Her heart rate began to slow, and the shivering stopped.

Though she was justifiably unnerved by her experience with the jaguar, Summer knew she had to calm down. In order to do so, she kept crawling forward, down off the dirt and into the pool. She crawled until the water was deep enough to swim in, and then paddled herself towards the waterfall. Steadying herself against the cliff wall, Summer stood up from the pool and into the downrush of water from above.

***

Summer awoke the following morning with a tug on the chain around her left ankle. The sun was up, and the village had begun to bustle, but Summer had somehow slept through it all from the mud puddle she called a bed. She was lying only a few feet from where Catequil had driven the spike into the ground, and she was caked in dried mud. Sopping wet and exhausted, Summer had come to shore the previous night and just dropped herself onto the ground. The water from her body and the earth beneath her combined into a nice layer of mud on the naked blonde, finding its way onto her face, into her hair, and even inside her right ear.

But what woke her was Oqe, jerking roughly on the chain that bound her in place. Summer repeatedly blinked her eyes as she awoke, catching glimpses of Otoniel chasing the little boy away.

Summer sat up, brushing away some of the dirt from her besoiled face, and smiled up at her translator.

Otoniel gave the girl a once-over, but then made sure to maintain eye contact. Still, he couldn't help observing on her state of uncleanliness. "You know, you probably should have dried off before you laid down and went to sleep."

"I was going to," the girl replied, "but I left my towel in the pool house."

Otoniel chuckled.

"So what's it say on the day-planner for today?" Summer asked as she stood up. As she waited for a reply, she bushed the dried earth from her body.

"Same as yesterday, I guess."

"Well, then," Summer began, "I can see that we are going to have a very special day. I've already had my mud bath, apparently, so perhaps I'll clean myself off in this state-of-the-art tropical pool. After my morning shower in this luscious rainforest waterfall, I think I will have breakfast brought to me - the finest breakfast this side of the Rio Clemente, complete with the finest fruits and breads of Bolivia's enchanted Far East, the Oriente. Afterwards, I'll spend your day tanning myself in the nude, all while commanding the attention of few dozen indigenous villagers."