“Who are you?” I asked the one next to me in the dark. He was covered in blue paint, and was wearing a conical hat. I noticed a javelin, an archer’s bow and an amulet hanging off of his ribs. He was an okinkanino, one of the two tribes of this new land of the Americas that America is part of. The other one is the Apache.
He did not answer me. He stood motionless, staring into the distance. His eyes were like the stones on the banks of the river five days from now. I was amazed at the puffy red dust coats on his skin and limbs. He had a longsword hand-and-a-half length that looked like an Asian katana and pointed to the sky. He allowed me to leave him alone and stare at the endless horizon ahead. The dust coat caught at my neck and made me cough. There was no wind, yet he looked up to the sky and cried. It was heavy, thick and dark red. I turned to him, trying to stop myself from coughing again.
“What’s wrong?” I asked. He looked up at me, and I could not read his eyes. They seemed pitch black, spiteful and worried. They were a sight to behold. I felt I was staring at a monster.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I can’t carry you. I must carry my own burden. The Amanuana.”
“The Amanuana?” I asked.
I heard a voice, a hissing kind, a voice that echoed. It was a man in a brown robe, no head and a face painted blue.
“What is this “Amanuana” stuff?” I asked.
"He means he is carrying the Amanuana,” he said. “He is carrying heavy burden. He is the first man to pass.”
“What does this have to do with me?” I asked.
He pointed to the ground, to my right, where a clump of dust coats had been brushing at my feet.
“We carry our dead, and bury them with us,” he said.
I looked and saw this dust coat. It was spread in the mud and it was black. It was all over my legs and the rest of my body. It felt like this dust was going to suffocate me. It was heavy, like it was welcoming me to sink into the mud. I could not move. I could not breathe. I could not think.
“Your friend has been sleeping these days,” the man in the brown robe said.
“Who is my friend?” I asked.
“Do not forget you are a guest here,” the man in the brown robe said.
“I do not understand,” I said. “I do not understand any of this, but the Amanuana. He is carrying a heavy burden and he is expecting me to come with him. He fell asleep behind me, and I must not leave him there.”
“The Amanuana is strange,” he said. “He is very strange. No one has seen its like before.”
I walked over to it and looked at it. It did not look like my friend. Its face was upside down with a hole in his neck. Its skin was black and it had red lips. It was huge and its eyes were wide open. Its chest was moving up and down very slowly. I walked over and kicked it.
“Sir?” I said.
The thing moved. I kicked it once again, and walked over to it. I took out a knife and cut the brush around its grave. I pulled out the brush and a black liquid spilled all over me. I became dizzy.
“Sir?” I said.
I pinched my nose, and it was dry. The smell was repulsive. I looked at my hands and they were slimy and covered in this black liquid. I covered my face, nose and mouth with my hands.
“Sir?” I said.
I dug the knife in the dirt and then I ran as fast as I could to my side, towards the Amanuana. I felt a heavy burden on top of me and I thought I was losing consciousness. It was very weak, but I cannot believe the weight. I heard a weird noise. I blinked many times, but there was nothing. I opened my eyes and there was the Amanuana. He was sitting beside me, on my left.
He was placed on a bed of salt and he was silent. He was looking at me. His eyes were very white. His hair was black and he had no eyebrows. What I remember him the most was the blue, circular birth mark on his left arm. It said “AAAA.” He kept staring at me and I stared back, for I knew it was my friend.
“You are strong,” the Amanuana said. “That is why I chose you. You have descended into them and you have emerged victorious. No one has returned to tell our story.