The Amuc
(A short Story, Dedicated to Marissa Cardenas)
Forward: When Gilmore Anquist disappeared, no one knew quite where to start looking for him. That was a decade ago, I would say. I knew him quite well, that is, as well as anyone I suppose, for an American chap that isone that was wandering in Latin America for some two-years straight. He said he was looking for a mystery to be unfolded, unwrapped for his untrusting mind. Perhaps he was lying I thought at the time, and was up to no goodsome kind of hoax you know: something like that. It was, or is an exasperating riddle, and until I visited Copan, Honduras and Huancayo, Peru, so it would remain. Let me add, at this point, no one had uncovered the truth of him, but I did follow the faintest of rumors, rumors of a gringo (who could not be missed of course in an all Latin continent) who was seen in the jungles of the Amazonian, and Sierras of Los Andes; one that wore a Texas style cowboy hat, and a jean-ja cket, along with an Ethiopian cross, hooked on a gold chain. He was not hard to track, that is, from place to place, it just wore me out getting to and from all these locations he happened to visit; Huancayo being one of them and the last of a series of countries (Peru ((Ecuador, Bolivia, and Colombia)); and the one location he liked the most was in the area of Huancayo, so I heard from many of its residences thereabouts. Again, I tracked him to the Mantaro Valley, up to San Jeronimo, by the old 16th century church, San Sebastian. In the beautiful Mantaro Valley of Peru, I was led to a sinkhole, hidden from the common eye, and told there was a depthless abyss below my feet, as I looked into this ink dark hole, so it seemed it rightfully was. There I slept for three days...but I must let Gilmore (from his diary) tell you the rest of the story, lest I give it away, and you find no interest in it beyond this long paragraph.
The Amuc
(By Gilmore Anquist ((diary notes ))
English Version
Out of time and space was created the lost colossal salt cathedral in the underground maze of tunnels of South America; it was ten-thousand years ago, if not longer, when the fog on the orange timid moon gulfed the river, and across a cyclopean stone bridge came the Amuc people, and there they dug their kingdom to come: there, under the crust of the earth; thus, from here comes the moaning sounds of the ghouls, all coming from the ancient shadowy arches across the lost cathedral in the sunken salt river that once floated endlessly across the South American continentnow underground. Wherever it ends nobody really knows, yet steadily it flowed in ancient times, flowed silently crossing other rivers, valleys and mountains. This my friend is where I became lost, lost in this land of the Amuc. But I shall tell you a ting more before I give myself over to death, to the emptying of my last breathe .
This cathedral is hidden in the salt rock tunne ls under the Andes since time immortal, or so it has been saida cathedral it is now called, but it was at one time called an underground acropolis, and before that, cyclopean temples, which was above land at that time for the Amuc; and now, I repeat, now the cathedral. Yet this period I talk about is quite dim to the inhabitants of the world at large, if not even to the anthropologists, archeologists, and local inhabitants of this beautiful Valley, and mountain city; yet the Amuc live, and the tunnels are their roads, their paths, their oblivion. Quite dim I say, quite dim, but only to the seeker, not the Amuc (the little people of the tunnels). This is the land of Oblivion so I have named it. And in this naked dark earth smelling maze, resides the Great Cathedral carved out of salt...created by the creatures that inhabit this underground empire.
I shall tell you the story of my findings now, now that I have written them downas they are written down in this diarys hould someone ever find it; although I wish to forget such a place. For the tunnels run across the Andes, to Brazil, and all the way to Honduras, and then some; and to Bolivia and it surrounding countries, and I have walked them so much my feet have an inch of calluses on them.
While lost in these tunnels, with my bare hands I fought and was the slayer of innocent and evil alike to survive, and in the process become slain, for I am dying at this very moment, as you read these words.
So it was that I came upon this lethal and salty church, after exploring all over the cotenant, and all the way to Honduras for the right tunnel to enter. And so I found it in the Mantaro Valley of Peru. Here is where the vaults of the earth opened up wide to suck me in, and here is where I first met the little people, the Amuc.
I have roamed these tunnels for years, ate the worms, and the roots, insects that such an environment offers. The little people, the Amuc, are about t wo feet tall; they live in this land I call Oblivion for there is no end to its tunnels within the crust of the earth. And they can goit seemsanyplace, anywhere in the world. One told me once, he walked all the way to Mongolia.
The Sun, it does not exist in this underground world, nor did I ever find an exit, or a way up the long and endless abyss entrance to try and witness it again, hence, the world I entered so many years ago, was my world to be to the end of my days. It is a land of vapors and shadows, and mist; which replaces the stars, sun, and moon. It gave some kind of assurance of life to the Amuc; it gave me little hope of ever seeing daylight. I could not tell night from day, morning from afternoonthings the Amuc seem not to be bothered by. But when I came upon the Great Salt Church, I opened up the doors to this land of oblivion, it was a grimly sight and my spirit had no yearning to enter, yet I sought it did I not. And sometimes we ask for things we should not, for here I was with the grand prize of my life in front of me.
I saw the little people in solemn haste, quickly appearing and disappearing, like blowing out of a match, and relighting it. The church was high and narrow, heavily curtained for these were no windows. A funeral was taking place the first day I entered the church. I heard the music and the sound of bells. All were very faint, cutoff from humanity you might say, I heard them for the first time, so it seemed. And the sounds were of piousness to my ears.
Then a clanging came from overhead. I followed the shadows the curtains gave, odd shadows my mind told me, then I found out they were ghouls, the residue of tormented souls. Farther and farther down the center of the isle of the church I walked; I seemed to have lost myself in the momentthat particular day, in the bulk of this labyrinth, of this vague underground kingdom. These shadows gave off demonic configurations, sheer strangeness to my eyeballs. I saw a grand alter appearing before me, hence I plunged toward it and away from the shadowy figures, the moaning souls without peace trying to grab onto me, like a bee to honey. At this time I had no idea of the vastness of this underground empire, its over two thousand miles of tunnels, if not more.
Now that time has gone by, I have had ample time to think of course, time to think of the great cathedral, the maze of tunnels, the Amuc, the ghouls, but it dawned me that first day at the churchas catatonic fate, and I was completely fatigued; I had only a bottle of wine left, I drank it down, and grabbed one of the little people by the neck, said I , Where is the way out...? but the little man could only point to where I had come from, and that was a hundred miles back, and a few weeks ago.
The little Amuc smiled a sneering smile; I was a new creature to him, as he was to me. He spit out sounds I never heard, as I suppose I did to him, two languages that hung on smiles and body language. But I understood him to say, We have a kingdom down here, and you are welcome, yet I do not think you will be leaving. And of course he was right. And in his face and hand gestures, he implied: I must hurry along, the funeral was taking place, and like a candle blown out, he was gone. I cannot remember for the life of me when that was; I mean, was it a year ago, or five, or perhaps ten?
Conclusion:
As I look back now, at this one event that took place in my life, it changed my whole life, as often times single events do. Had I not taken this adventure into the forbidden roots of the crust of the earth, the question has come up: would I have had a better life? Perhaps, but then my soul would have broke away from the sequence of time, and found a silent and gloomy place to live and die in. Thus, no longer was I destined to be removed from the mist and shadows of the underworld, but then on earth would only have been what I c all deceptive oblivion for me. I had found a sunless secret, which had an endless drawing behind me, eerie and dull it may be, but it was all worth the trouble.
Note: written during the month the author traveled to South and Central America (Peru and Honduras), April 2005; all locations mentioned the author has visited.
El Amuc
(Un cuento, dedicado a Marissa Crdenas)
Traducido por Rosa Pealoza
Versin en Espaol
Avance: Cuando Gilmore Anquist desapareci, nadie saba dnde empezar a buscarlo. Esto sucedi una dcada atrs, yo dira. Yo lo conoca bastante bien, es decir tan bien como cualquiera supongo, para ser un muchacho americano que vagaba en Amrica Latina como por dos aos concisamente. l dijo que estaba en busca de un misterio para ser revelado, desempaquetado por su mente desconfiada. En ese momento pens que quizs l estaba mintiendo, y que talvez estaba en algo no bueno - una especie de broma pesada t sabes: algo as. Esto era o es un exasperan te rompecabezas, que permanecera as hasta que yo visitara Honduras y Huancayo. Djeme aadir, a este punto, nadie haba descubierto la verdad acerca de l, pero yo me dej llevar por el ms dbil de los rumores, rumores de un gringo (quien no poda ser echado de menos desde luego en todo un continente latino) quien fue visto en las selvas del Amazonas, y Sierras de Andes; uno que vesta sombrero vaquero al estilo Texas, con una chaqueta de Jean, junto con una cruz de Etiopa, enganchada sobre una cadena de oro. No era difcil de rastrearlo, es decir de un lugar a otro, solamente que me cans yendo y viniendo de todos estos lugares que l visit; Huancayo siendo de ellos y el ltimo de una serie de pases: Per; lugar que a l le gust mucho, o eso era lo que o decir a los residentes de all. Nuevamente, lo busqu en el Valle El Mantaro, y en San Jernimo, por la iglesia antigua San Sebastin que data del siglo 16. En el hermoso Valle del Mantaro, fui conducido a una especie de hueco, oculto al ojo comn, y me dijeron que debajo de mis pies haba un abismo profundo, cuando mir en el oscuro agujero, este pareca lo que me dijeron. All dorm durante tres das... pero debo dejar a Gilmore (desde su diario) decirles el resto de la historia, no sea que yo les narre, y usted no encontrar ningn inters ms all de este prrafo largo.
El Amuc
( Por Gilmore Anquist ((apuntes de diario))
Fuera del tiempo y espacio fue creada la colosal catedral de sal perdida en el laberinto subterrneo de los tneles de Sudamrica; hace diez mil aos, si no es mucho ms, cuando la niebla sobre la luna tmida anaranjada cay al ro, y a travs de un puente de piedra vino la gente Amuc, y all ellos abrieron su reino que vendra mas adelante: all bajo la corteza de la tierra; as vinieron los gemidos de los demonios, todos vinieron de los antiguos arcos a travs de la catedral perdida en el ro de sal, hundida que una vez flot sin parar a travs del continente sudamericanoahora subterrnea. Dnde esto termina, nadie realmente lo sabe, aunque formalmente este fluy, en tiempos antiguos, fluy silenciosamente cruzando otros ros, valles y montaas. Aqu es mi amigo donde me encontr perdido, perdido en esta tierra del Amuc. Pero te dir un tintineo ms antes de que yo me ofrezca a la muerte, a vaciar mi ltimo respiro-.
Esta catedral est oculta bajo los tneles de roca salada de los Andes, desde tiempos inmortales, o eso es lo que dicenahora es llamada la catedral, pero en cierta poca le llamaron la Acrpolis subterrnea, y antes de esto, los templos cclopes, cuando estaba encima de la tierra de los Amuc; y ahora, como repito, es la catedral. Este perodo del que hablo todava no es claro a los habitantes del mundo en general, inclusive ni a los antroplogos, arquelogos, y habitantes locales; aunque los Amuc viven, y los tneles son sus carreteras, sus caminos, su olvido. Bastante dbil digo, bastante turbado, pero slo al explorador, no a los Amuc, no a la gente pequea de los tneles . Esta es la tierra de Olvido eso es como lo nombr. Y en el laberinto de esta tierra desnuda oscura que huele, reside la Gran Catedral tallada en sal ... creada por las criaturas que habitan este Imperio subterrneo.
Le dir la historia de mis conclusiones, ahora, ahora que las he escrito en este diariosi alguna vez alguien lo encuentra; aunque yo deseara olvidar este lugar. Porque los tneles corren a travs de Los Andes, a Brasil, y todo el camino a Honduras, y ms all; a Bolivia y los pases circundantes, y yo he andado tanto en estos que a mis pies le han salido una pulgada de callos.
Mientras me encontraba perdido en estos tneles, para sobrevivir, tuve que luchar con mis manos desnudas y me convert en asesino de inocentes y malos indistintamente, y en el proceso me hirieron de muerte, porque ahora estoy muriendo, si, mientras usted lee este mensaje.
Despus de haber explorado por todo el continente y por todo el camino que conduce a Honduras, por el correcto tnel para entrar, fue entonces cuando encontr por casualidad esta letal iglesia de sal. Y entonces me encontr en el Valle del Mantaro de Per. Aqu es donde las bvedas de la tierra se abrieron ampliamente para extraerme, y es aqu donde primero encontr a la gente pequea, llamada Amuc.
He vagado por estos tneles durante aos, com gusanos, races, e insectos que tal ambiente ofrece. La gente pequea, los Amuc, son de aproximadamente dos pies de altura; ellos viven en esta tierra al que llam el Olvido porque no hay final a sus tneles dentro de la corteza de la tierra. Y ellos pueden ir - parece-a cualquier lugar, en todas partes del mundo. Una vez uno de ellos me dijo; que l anduvo todo el camino a Mongolia.
El Sol, no existe en este mundo subterrneo, tampoco nunca encontr una salida, o una subida a la entrada del abismo largo e infinito por la que entr muchos aos atrs. En esta tierra los vapores, sombras, y niebla sustituyen a las estrellas, al sol, y la luna. Esto dio una especie de fortalecimiento de vida de los Amuc; pero me dio poca esperanza de alguna vez ver la luz del da. No poda distinguir la noche del da. Pero cuando por casualidad encontr la Gran Iglesia de Sal, abr las puertas a esta tierra de olvido, fue con una vista de gravedad y mi espritu que no tenan ningn anhelo de entrar, aunque busqu esto, no?. A veces pedimos cosas que no deberamos, porque aqu me encontr con el premio magnfico de mi vida delante de m.
Vi a la pequea gente con prisa solemne, apareciendo y desapareciendo rpidamente, como apagando un fsforo, y prendindolo de nuevo. La iglesia era alta y estrecha, pesadamente cortinadas porque no haban ventanas. Un entierro estaba llevndose a cabo el primer da que entr en la iglesia. O la msica y el sonido de campanas. Todos eran muy dbiles, cortados de humanidad t podras decir, los o por primera vez, o esto es lo que pareca. los sonidos eran de compasin a mis odos.
Entonces un sonido metlico vino de lo alto. Como si me mente me indicara, segu las sombras que las cortinas daban, sombras raras. Camin lejos y ms lejos hacia el centro de la isla de la iglesia; parec haberme perdido en el momento, en el laberinto pesado de este vago reino subterrneo. Estas sombras emitieron demonios raros, hechiceros extraos. En aquel momento vi aparecer un magnfico altar, entonces me sumerg en l y me aleje de las figuras sombras, que como almas muertas sin paz trataban de agarrarse de m. En este momento no tuve ni idea de la inmensidad de este Imperio subterrneo, este tiene tneles de ms de dos mil millas.
-- Ahora que el tiempo ha pasado, he tenido tiempo para pensar desde luego, en la gran catedral, en el laberinto de tneles de los Amuc, de los demonios. El primer da que entre en la iglesia me sent iluminado estando tan fatigadoslo me quedaba una botella de vino, el cual lo beb de frente, y entonces agarr a una de las pequeas gentes por el cuello y le pregunt, Dnde est la salida ...? per o el hombrecito slo poda sealar el lugar por el que haba venido hace unas semanas atrs, y esto era como cien millas atrs.
El pequeo Amuc ri con una risa burlona; yo era una nueva criatura para l, como l era para m. l emita sonidos que nunca antes haba odo, como supongo yo lo hice para l, dos lenguajes que se tendieron sobre risas y expresin corporal. Pero entend que deca, Aqu tenemos un reino, y t eres bienvenido, aunque no creo que te marchars Y desde luego l tuvo razn. En su cara y gestos de mano l implic: Debo ir de prisa, el entierro est llevndose a cabo; y como una vela apagada, l se fue. No puedo recordarme cuando esto fue; quiero decir: sucedi el ao pasado, o cinco, o quizs diez aos atrs?
Conclusin:
Ahora que miro hacia atrs, veo que este acontecimiento que ocurri cambi mi vida entera, como a menudo algunos acontecimientos simples los hacen. Si no habra tomado esta aventura en las races prohibidas de la corteza de la tierra, la pregunta sera: habra t enido una mejor vida? Quizs. Pero entonces mi alma se hubiera separado de la secuencia del tiempo, y hubiera encontrado un lugar silencioso y sombro para vivir y morir. As, nunca ms estara destinado para ser removido de la niebla y las sombras del hampa, entonces en la tierra slo habran lo que llamo el olvido engaoso. He encontrado un secreto sin sol, y un dibujo infinito detrs de m, misterioso y embotado puede ser, pero esto vale la pena todo el problema.
Note: escrito durante el mes en que el autor viaj a Sur y Centro Amrica (Per y Honduras), en abril del 2005; el autor ha visitado todos los lugares mencionados.
Dennis Siluk is an author of many books, especially poetry. He is also a traveler of the world, and is presently in Peru sending back some poems and this here short story of the Amuc people, that legend has it, has been around much longer than we have. Rosa Pealoza
Author:: Dennis Siluk
Keywords:: Short Story
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