But though the Tzotziles had more than ample evidence of their sacristan’s loyalty, they showed themselves to be ungrateful. Was it not true that they no longer came in the same numbers and with the same frequency as before to ask for Xaw’s advice or instructions? Was it not true that they neglected to celebrate the religious fiestas and let whole weeks go by without visiting the church once? Something was happening, and Xaw’s keen sense of smell immediately put him on guard. Something was gestating somewhere. Xaw knew the symptoms well. He feared them.

For example: the others became reserved when Xaw was present. They were silent or referred only to matters of no importance, as if in the ardor of their conversation a secret might be betrayed. For there was a secret, that was one thing that could not be doubted. A secret all of them shared, except Xaw. All of them went about in a sute of agitation, as if in expectation of some event Would the harvests be poor because there is no rain? Would hunger come and take our children, our brothers and sisters from us? No matter. All of them have their eyes turned somewhere else, as if waiting for a sign. And something all of them perceive in the atmosphere, something that is imperceptible only to Xaw, is making them go. They do not conceal it. They join together in large groüps and leave. Where? They all know except Xaw. They return in a state of exaltation, a light of confidence and defiance in their eyes. Among themselves they hold animated discussions of the journey’s incidents. They fall silent when they see Xaw approaching.

He does not know how to take revenge. His complaints are extinguished without finding an echo; the blade of his ironies is blunted against his listeners’ indifference. And Xaw does not dare confront the situation resolutely and ask: “What is happening here? Why have I suddenly become a pariah dog?”

By carefully stalking it, Xaw is able to waylay a name. The syllables make their way through the mists of deception and stupidity into the sacristan’s brain. And there they sparkle. Alone, apart, Xaw cannot explain the reasons for his certainty. But he knows: it has been revealed to him. In this name lies the solution to the enigma that is tormenting him. What has toppled him from his high position and taken away his badges of preeminence is a word: Tzajal-hemel.

It was there they were all going, full of hope; from there they returned, panting with an excitement Xaw was unable to describe. The sacristan approached some of them, eager to partake of this new foodstuff. And what he learned about it made him decide to undertake the journey himself.