Erendira’s Tale
                             
      Erendira Huitzilin hurried down the crowded street. Her bare feet slapped the warm pavestones as she dodged and ducked the masses of people.  Her ears buzzed as the side street vendors called out to the crowd crammed into the boulevard, trying to sell their wares: steaming hot xoars and fresh avocados. A beggar clung to her legs for a second before releasing her to clutch at a different pair of feet.  She hopped over another pair of groping hands and weaved her way through a small procession of people; a tlatlcotin (slave) wedding, by the look of it.  She grimaced in disgust as the shriveled face of Teiuc, the neighborhood tramp that frequented the dusty street, appeared in front of her. He was known for conning the women of the area into buying beautiful looking baskets that turned out to have loose bottoms and bad stitching. Before he could say a word, she had ducked out of his way, leaving him openmouthed and empty handed. As she ran along, she looked up at the sun. It was almost past the rooftops of the small squat buildings that lined the roads. Erendira cursed.  She was supposed to be at school when the sun lined up with the balconies of the highest floor of the buildings. She was going to be late and she knew it. If only Mama had not made her sweep the floors! She raced around the final corner and, winded, doubled over in front of the small wooden doors that made up the entrance to her school. Her dark hair swirled down from her bun, and her slight, slender body heaved from her gasping breaths. Seńora Xilonen’s monotone voice slid under the cracks in the doors and found its way to Erendira’s ears. Erendira shuddered and looked with mounting dread at the opening of her school. Her passion for medicine was topped only by her hate for Seńora Xilonen.  Erendira sighed and readied herself for whatever punishment her teacher would decide to give out. Seńora Xilonen was a stickler for rules and for being on time for class, which meant Erendira was in a lot of trouble. Erendira pushed open the doors and stepped into a small, worn-looking classroom. At once, she felt at home. Pieces of charcoal lay in the sand, traces of the black chalk lingering in the pristine white grains. Four Codices were stacked neatly by the wall, their pages ripped and torn from the many hands that had turned them.  Erendira smiled. This was where she belonged, she thought to herself. Her gaze drifted to the space on the wall where the younger children had been practicing the alphabet. The letters of N’ahuatl were scattered across the sandstone as if trying to leap from the wall and escape into the sun burned streets.  She was about to turn away from the scene when a cutting voice interrupted her reveries.
      “Well, here’s our little troublemaker!” The screech of Seńora Xilonen shot Erendira like an arrow. She spun around and immediately shrank back from her teacher’s glare. Seńora Xilonen was tall and beautifully shaped. She wore a magnificent dress with turquoise, magenta, and bright yellow swirled together to make a strange, alluring pattern. Her face was sharp and her black hair accented her large nose and dark, almost black eyes. It was the eyes that made Erendira quake. They had the power to subdue even the wildest student with just one look. And now, they were staring right into Erendira. 
      “So, you thought you would just sneak in here, did you?” Seńora Xilonen questioned. Erendira swallowed and tried to work out a reasonable response.
      “No, Seńora. I was running late and I was looking around my old classroom for a minute before I came into yours,” she managed. Seńora Xilonen’s eyes narrowed and her nostrils flared. She looked as if she were about to yell at Erendira. But just as her mouth was beginning to open, she hesitated. She seemed to be struggling within herself. Finally, she sniffed disdainfully and spun on her heel. 
      “Come on then,” she said, “you’re missing class!” Erendira’s shoulders sagged in bewildered relief, and she followed Seńora Xilonen into the other classroom. 
                                                                    * * * * *
      Erendira walked slowly home. She was taking the backstreets to her house, even though the route added more time to her walk home. She smiled to herself. Although school had gotten off to a rough start, the day had gotten better quickly. She was studying the practice of medicine and hoped to one day be a healer to the Emperor. That day, S?nora Xilonen had introduced Erendira’s class to the proper way to mend a cut leg: they were supposed to sprinkle ground up obsidian glass onto the area that was cut. This helped the leg heal. Erendira thought the whole lesson fascinating and was pleased at the pace she was learning her craft.  She sang to herself as she walked along. 
      “A zan chalchihuitli quetzal on patlahuac moyollo motlatol totatzin! Ehuaya. Tonteicnoitta tonteicnopilitta. In tan cuel achitzin ca in motloc monahuac. Ohuaya Ohuaya. Chalchiuh itzmolini moxochiuh ipalnemohua. Yexochimimilihui xiuhquechol cuepuntimani. Ohuaya Ohuaya. It is pure jade, a wide plumage, your heart, your word, Oh Father! Ehuaya. You pity man, you watch him with mercy! Only for the most brief moment is he next to you, at your side! Ohuaya ohuyaya. Precious as jade your flowers burst forth, Oh Life Giver. As fragrant flowers they are perfected, as blue parrots they open their blossoms. Ohuaya ohuyaya.” Erendira closed her eyes and swayed as she sang the uplifting melody. Suddenly a childish yell shattered the soft silence. She yanked her eyelids open just in time to see a small skinny blur rushing straight for her. A split second later, her little brother, Tlaloc, crashed into her side. 
      “Tlaloc! What are you doing? You should be out in the fields with Papa!” Erendira exclaimed. He detached himself from her side and grinned up at her. Despite her indignance at being plowed into, Erendira couldn’t help but smile back. Tlaloc had a round face, and large, trusting eyes. His hair fell innocently into his face, but he had a mischievous grin. Erendira was hardly surprised that he wasn’t with Papa. Children were required to help their parents with the household jobs: Erendira swept the floors and helped Mama with the sewing, and Tlaloc was supposed to help Papa pick and shuck corn. But somehow Tlaloc always managed to worm his way out of his duties. Erendira shook her head at him.
      “You should be working Tlaloc. You know that.” She frowned as he shook his head in disagreement. “What’s your excuse then? Huh?” she asked him. He opened his mouth with the air of someone revealing important news.
      “Because we have the feast tonight! Don’t you remember? Today’s the 20th day of the month!” he exclaimed. Erendira’s heart dropped. She had forgotten! On the last day of every month, a huge banquet was held for everyone in the neighborhood. Each feast was held in honor of one of the gods. That night, the feast was in honor of one of the most important gods—Huitzilopochtli, the Tenochtitlăn war god. Because Erendira lived in Tenochtitlăn, the capital of the Aztec Empire, this god was extremely revered. Tonight was one of the most important feasts of the year, not only because it was in honor of their great god, but also because it celebrated the 400th anniversary of the alliance between Texcoco, Tenochtitlăn, and Tlacopan, the city states that made up the Tenovlate section of the Aztec Empire. The night was also one to rejoice in the completion of the newest temple in Tenochtitlăn. Realizing this, Erendira grabbed Tlaloc’s hand and pulled him to their house. They burst through the front door, just in time to run into Mama, who was carrying Erendira’s formal dress in her hand. 
      “Daughter, there you are!” she cried. “Come with me! We need to  get ready for the feast!”  Mama hustled Erendira down the narrow hallway that led to the bedroom that they shared. She shooed Tlaloc away, and then turned to Erendira. Mama was short, plump, and had rosy cheeks and kind, sparkling eyes. Although she didn’t look it, she was a hard worker and extremely smart. She was the one who made sure everyone was doing their fair share of the work. Now she held up the dress to Erendira, nodded approvingly, and motioned to Erendira to strip off her school clothes. 
      “Hurry daughter, we have a feast to go to!”
                                                                      * * * * *
       There was an intoxicating feeling in the air.  Beautiful women in bright red dresses swayed on the dance floor and handsome young men in loose white shirts swept by in clouds of incense.  There were two long tables in the middle of the hall full of tlaxcalli and tacos.  People were yelling and screaming everywhere.   A dance-inducing drumbeat powered through the air waves, bouncing back and forth between two building walls.  Men and women ran by, their faces dripping with sweat and lust.  Erendira, however, felt cold and clammy.  She was shaking with suppressed fear.  Minutes before the feast had begun, the head priest had announced that the planned sacrifice of a cow had been judged as “not sufficient for our great god Huitzilopochtli”.  There was now going to be a human sacrifice—chosen out of the fourteen-year-old girls.  Erendira suddenly couldn’t breathe.  She saw the fear and shock pass over Mama’s and Papa’s faces, and felt the same feelings mirrored in her own.  Mama had come over to her immediately after the head priest had stepped down and reassured Erendira that she wouldn’t be picked.  But Erendira had her doubts.  There were only twenty or so fourteen-year-old girls in the neighborhood, and she could easily be chosen.  She slumped against the wall, trying to calm down.  Erendira knew that being sacrificed was the greatest honor a human could receive, but she couldn’t imagine how anyone could look forward to their imminent death.  She looked around and wondered how the people around her could be so happy when such a terrible thing was about to happen.  She couldn’t help marveling at their faces and bodies, so full of energy, so full of life.  She felt as if her actions were limited now, her breaths numbered.  The head priest walked by, and Erendira was about to run to him and throw herself down by his feet, when a sudden clarity came over her.  She was filled with an utmost calm.  She was completely positive that the sacrifice would be her, and she accepted it.  She closed her eyes and let the peace rise up in her and take over.  Soon the hall quieted down and the head priest stepped up onto a raised platform. 
       “We are here to honor and thank our war god, Huitzilopochtli, for giving us victory in the battlefield.  We have feasted in his favor, and we have sent him food. But now we give him the ultimate sacrifice… a human life!  The sacrificed one will be…”  His voice boomed impressively in the quiet hall.  Everyone had gone still, waiting.  Erendira stepped forward slightly, ready to accept her honor.  The acceptance smile was already formed on her lips when the priest finished his sentence.  “...Chimala Atl!!!”
00Erendira’s Tale, 9-10, Page 1