Entry #28

We left shortly after that moment. Mama Gondu watched us leave, and made no attempt to stop us, nor any attempt to hail us. He only watched as we left the village behind, and crossed the bridge. The misty blanket of clouds lay thick across the bridge, a garment that had spilled over from draping the trees surrounding the ravine; a chasm masked below us by celestial veils. At the end of the bridge, a couple Tairona boys with spears had been sent to watch our horses. They eyed us nervously, not about ready to commit themselves to any small talk. Not that they had to. Mama Gondu had caught up to us.

“Wait. Wait!”

Father Leoncio nodded to me, and I went to my horse. I climbed into the saddle and watched them. Father Leoncio made sure he stood between us.

“Mama Gondu. You wish something of me and my companion.”

“Stay with us tonight. Stay here in the village. We have already made a bed, we have fine blankets to keep you warm, and we will be sure your horses are protected as you sleep.”

“We are needed back at the mission,” Father Leoncio answered crisply, his words clipped.

“Father Leoncio, I will be honest with you. You are at a great risk if you return to the mission. Please, stay with us. At least until tomorrow morning when it is light out.”

“If my mission is endanger, Mama Gondu, I will stay with her, and protect her. As it is, the mission is in capable hands. We will return tonight, and we will send the doctor out tomorrow to check on the new mother, should you allow it.”

Mama Gondu sighed. “Of… course,” he relented, and peered at me. Father Leoncio followed his gaze.

“Unless hermana wishes to stay.”

I shook my head.

“Then,” Mama Gondu cleared his throat, “let me come with you. Let me help you.”

“You were so keen to shake yourself free of us before.”

“I was not thinking, and my thoughts were clouded with the need to protect my people. For an instant, I forgot you are as much my people as they. Forgive me, and let me come.”

In no time, all three of us were heading back down the stone path to our mission. Our pace was leisurely, not as rushed as before. We took our time moving through the cloud forest where we could not see the stars nor the moon, we could only assume such light existed beyond the murky surroundings. I watched my travelers, so amazed that Father Leoncio had come to my defense and been an unimaginable savior in the midst of this evening. He had a certain peace to him, more like a reassurance. He never seem phased, no matter how stressful the moment or dire the situation. He was peaceful, but such peace was often projected as a firm, steadfast nature. They were not projected the way an actor might, but in the way a man of experience might. The fact that someone so worldly would stand by me now - of all people and of all times - was remarkable in my eyes.

Mama Gondu seemed tense, even nervous. What had given him such misgiving? He had not been at the mission in a long time. Sure, he knew of the occurrences - the disappearances, the murder of Pepita, all of it - but I did not expect him to return after learning of such happenings. Nor did I expect him to be so naïve. Or maybe it was I who was naïve? He seemed to have a preternatural way of handling the world, as if he had encountered these things time and time again. He was anticipating something, he knew what was around the next bend in the road before we could even consider the possibility of what could lay waiting for us.

We were close to the mission, only about a mile away now. There was something in the air. Not a pleasing scent, like the forest at night, or the wet, soothing smell that often accompanied the mist. This scent was burning and intrusive, tickling and teasing our noses to the point I was ready to sneeze. The only other time I remember such a smell was when father let the fire burn too wild in the hearth at home and the room filled with smoke.

“What is that?” Father Leoncio tensed.

“Fire,” I could say before Mama Gondu, who stood rooted between us. He quickly mounted into my saddle, wrapping his arm around my waist.

“We must hurry. We must get to the mission, quickly now!”

He and Father Leoncio slammed their heels into the sides of the horse’s bellies, and our mounts took off down the path. Their hooves clapped along the road, their nostrils were flared and snorting loudly at the sudden exertion, but they were more than capable. I held the horn of my saddle tightly, and relied on Mama Gondu’s strength to keep me from crashing to the racing ground below.

We turned the bend, we broke down the path that led away from the main road, and upon clearing the thin path that cut through low hanging branches and thick bushes we discovered the mission ablaze. Not only that, but fire had spread to the Tairona huts below. Their thatched rooftops crackled, bursts of orange and bright yellow popping into the smoky, black air. We could see no survivors outside as we charged through the village. I thought I saw mangled forms in the huts, half of them poured out their homes’ entrances, charred and reaching for air or help. I could not make them out clearly, we were riding so fast.

We took to the hill, our horses pumped their legs in a bid to follow their masters' command. No matter how hard Mama Gondu or Father Leoncio pressed their rides, the slower we seemed to go. I looked at Father Leoncio. His brow was furrowed, his eyes were narrowed in a determined stare, bent on reaching the top where the mission was ablaze. The gates were falling apart, the fire threatened to consume everything at any moment. Still, we raced, and we prayed as we bolted up the hill. This place was our home, I could only hope it had not transformed completely into a tomb.