-
Fourteen: Hamalau
- University of Nevada Press
- Chapter
- Additional Information
fourteen I hamalau The road led to Christmas Town. The place was abandoned and now just an empty cement square without a roof. A peeling sign said: SANTA LIVES IN THE DESERT. There were wood cutouts of an unpainted sled and a ten-foot-tall headless Santa in front of the building. As we moved the sheep inside, the freckle-faced boy told us that they had stopped working on Christmas Town fIve years ago when the housing development went bust. "They want to turn it into an adult bookstore," the skinny boy said. "My mom says she'll burn the place down if they try that," the freckle -faced boy said. "My dad said there's no reason adults shouldn't have their own bookstore to get good reading material," the skinny boy said. "You're a knucklehead," the freckle-faced boy said. Then he turned to Aitatxi and said, "You'll be safe here. No one comes near this place since all the trouble." .7 "A group of moms came out and knocked Santa's head off," the skinny boy said. "Knocked Santa's head off," the littlest boy said. "We got to go now," the freckle-faced boy said. "It's time for dinner." "But we'll come back in the morning," the skinny boy said. "You like donuts?" "Chocolate glazed," Aitatxi said. "Is there any other kind?" the freckle-faced boy said. As the boys rode their bikes out of the empty store, Aitatxi waved. "Mil esker, izan untxa-be well." "They don't speak Euskara, Aitatxi," I said. "They know with bihotzak- hearts," Aitatxi said. "Omi, get rope, we make pen for sheeps." While I got the rope from my pack, Aitatxi had Atarrabi and Mikelats work the sheep into a corner of the building. We then tied the rope to the electrical wires that dangled out of the cement walls and penned in the sheep. After that, Aitatxi sent me to fmd some wood for a ftre. Around the back of the building, I found a pile of wooden cutout elves. The elves were all in different poses of toy making. I also found a stack of old magazines. Most of them had Camaros and Chevy Supersports on their covers. But I did ftnd a copy of a Boys' Life with an article in it titled "Survivingthe Wild: Ten Knots You Need to Know" and an October issue of Playboy, only all the pictures were ripped out. I broke up a couple of elves and carried the pieces, along with the magazines-minus the Playboy-inside. Aitatxi used the magazines to start a ftre on the cement floor. I watched the flames rise into a sky full of stars. Aitatxi got out the sheep's milk cheese and sourdough bread. And even though I was sick of both, I ate what he gave me greedily. 98 [3.239.208.72] Project MUSE (2024-03-29 14:15 GMT) I couldn't remember ever being so hungry. While we ate, Aitatxi hummed, and for once it was a song I didn't recognize from the radio. "What song is that?" "It my song," Aitatxi said. "You wrote a song?" "No worry,gaixua, you in my song." "Let me guess-it's about a boy who was was born ttipia eta itsusia and goes on a sheeps drive in the desert," I said. "Ez, baina that good," Aitatxi said. "My song about city boy, he learn how mendia heltzen da urratz bat aldian." "What's that mean?" "You maybe learn tomorrow day," Aitatxi said. "Orai time sleep." I rolled out my bedroll. It had been a long day, what with the golf ladies and the houses. Still, before I went to sleep there was something I needed to ask Aitatxi. "What's the Mamu?" "Sure, no, zuk badakizu Mamu," Aitatxi said. "You know Mamu." "But those kids said the houses were haunted and you said the Mamu was there. Is the Mamu a ghost?" "Mamu, he no one thing," Aitatxi said. "Then what is he?" Aitatxi was quiet for a long moment, and I saw he was looking into the nre as if the answer was written in the flames. "Mamu, he all things that come before," Aitatxi said. "Some things, they good, some things, they no so good." "And back at those houses ..." "No so good." The wood crackled as it burned. And like Aitatxi, I stared 99 into the nre's heart where it...