AUTHOR'S NOTES:
1.  Quechua is also known as 'Inca'  and was the language of the
pre-Columbian Incan empire (so guess where this is going, he he).
2. There are now about 14 million Quechua speakers in five countries
throughout the Andean mountains.
3. The Quechua here is spelled the way Graham heard it, not the way it is
properly spelled, which just looks confusing.
(Giles-like linguistic lesson ends now.)
4.  Saw an Andean folk band busking in the street, got totally transported
back to the Andes for a moment, and this part just hit me.  So I was
standing in the street, grinning like a fool, and my friend asked me what
the silly smile on my face was for . here it is:

Maybe He's Canadian, 13: Mana *

Hanging out at the Espresso Pump had become almost a ritual.  Maybe they
were both some kind of caffeine freaks, because they generally went straight
from the coffee to Graham's room, and clothes were off within seconds, amid
laughter and kissing, and desperate exploring again of each other's bodies,
ending up on the floor in some position or another.

Thursday night, so music.  The waitress / bus-person / m.c. went to the mike
and introduced the folk band for the night.  "Tonight, Direct from the
Andes, Pesadilla Andina." followed by scattered clapping.

Xander was only half aware of her, he could the little stage in the corner
of his eye as he looked at Graham's eyes, as he talked in a low voice about
almost walking in on Riley and Buffy that afternoon, laughing at himself,
Xander studying every line on his face as he laughed.

The band came out, some South American thing, thought Xander, as he saw the
ponchos they were wearing and those funny little bitty guitars, and the
pan-pipes.  OK, South American folk music, not high on the list of things to
go for, but at least not the Nova Scotia bagpipe trio doing swing like last
week, or Giles doing Clapton unplugged.

With his back to the stage, Graham was oblivious, still chuckling about the
look on Riley's face when he caught him and Buffy in near flagrante in the
hallway.   Xander nodding agreement, grinning,
"Yeah, ole Riley has the patent on that 'deer caught in the headlights'
look."

Then the band struck up the first chord of the song.  Dissonant chord.
Loud.  Startling. Drum starts beating slow even rhyhm, guitars strumming.
Pan-pipes playing, a kind of haunting slow lament.

Graham's face froze.

"Hey!"  Xander asked softly, wondering if he has just said something stupid
.  or stupider than usual.

Graham didn't react.  He stared into the near distance over Xander's
shoulder.  His shoulders were completely tensed. Xander could tell something
was really wrong.
"Graham.  Graham."

No response.

"Wanna go?"

Graham nodded once.  Quickly, Xander stood up, and breaking their unspoken
rule on no public displays of affection, put a hand on Graham's arm and gave
it a squeeze.  "Come on."

Graham stood up.  The blood had drained from his face, leaving it taut and
without a hint of emotion.  Xander kept his hand on the arm.  Graham walked
out of the coffee bar like a zombie.  Xander led him back across campus
towards Lowell House. He put a hand on Graham's shoulder.  It was tensed
tight.

"Bad memories?"

"Yeah."

"Wanna talk about it?"

"Can't."  Graham was looking straight ahead, not focusing on anything.
Xander looked at his face, studying it.

"Can't, because its secret Commando-guy stuff or can't because."   his voice
trailed off. Xander was finding all this beyond wiggins territory and well
into freaksome.  Graham's never reacted like this.  To anything.  Fearless
in the face of demons from hell, and scared shitless by a folk song.

Graham lost his staring contest with the universe and looked at Xander. the
sadness in his eyes breaking Xander's heart."Both."

They waked the rest of the way in silence.

When they got to his room, Graham just curled up in bed.  Xander hesitated.
Should he stay or should he go?  Graham was obviously not in any mood for
the rolling on the floor thing.  He sat on the bed, leaned over a bit, and
gave Graham's neck a very gentle massage.  The guy's muscles were tight as a
drum.  Whatever was bothering Graham was clearly serious.  He didn't respond
at all to Xander's touch. Maybe that wasn't what Graham wanted or needed.

Xander took his hands away.

"Don't go."  Graham whispered, pleading, but not moving a muscle.

"Not a chance."  Xander crawled into bed, and pushed his chest against
Graham's back,  pressed his body against Grahams, and put an arm across his
chest and hugged him very gently.

The two just lay there.   Xander really had no clue as to what was going
through macho-guy's head.  He just knew that he'd do anything to make it
better if he could.  Hating the helpless feeling.  Really glad that Graham
had asked him to stay, as if Xander's just being there was a help.

"It's OK, Graham, it's OK," he whispered softly as he pressed his cheek
against Graham's back.

"I'm OK . I'll be OK.  Just . don't go."  Barely audible, barely a whisper.

"Not goin' anywhere."

Graham didn't move.  He just lay there.  He very slowly relaxed.  Xander
could feel each muscle group slowly relax, one by one.  He just held him.
Graham eventually fell asleep.  Xander held him for a while longer and then
drifted off himself.

Only to be jolted awake.   Graham was thrashing and shouting, pleading,
"Mana!  Mana!  Mana!"

Xander sat up, staring at the look of sheer horror on Graham's face, and
shook his shoulders.

"Graham, wake up!  Come on, wake up!"  Graham was breathing hard, almost
panting.  He opened his eyes, recognized Xander and grabbed him and hugged
him with a violence and desperation that Xander had never felt before.
Xander just hung on to Graham for a minute.

"Nightmare, huh?"

"Yeah"  Graham didn't losen his grip.  At that moment Xander realized that
there was a downside to a boyfriend this strong.

"Graham? .  Graham?"  barely a whisper, but getting worried.

"Yeah?"

"Need to breathe now."

Graham losened his grip and looked at Xander and whispered, ashamed -- and
not just about the squeeze.
"Sorry."  Graham just stared at the ceiling.  No movement.  No starting to
talk.  He was still breathing a bit heavily.  Heart racing.

"S'alright."

Xander looked down at him, thinking.   He ran his his hand along Graham's
far shoulder.
"Ya remember I told ya I'd been with a guy before?"

"Yeah."

"That was my bud, Jesse, the one who got vamped. -- a pause, a lump in the
throat -- I had to stake him."

Graham looked up at him.  He swallowed hard.  "Jesus!"  He said, truly
shocked.
"I had no idea, man."

"I had nightmares about it for months.  Still have 'em sometimes.  So, I
kinda know the nightmare thing."

Graham rolled on his side, towards Xander, and pulled him back down to the
pillow.  Faces inches apart.   He ran two fingers along Xander's jawline,
staring into his eyes.  That look of terror in Graham's eyes hadn't faded
completely.  He swallowed hard.

"I was eighteen.  In the marines maybe four months.  They asked for
volunteers for an 'insertion', a mission to another country.  Secret
commando stuff.  I was first to volunteer, figured I had something to
prove."  Graham's voice was soft.  He was whispering,
"We were supposed to kidnap this drug lord, bring him to Miami for trial.
He had this fortress type place way up in the Andes mountains in South
America, where they grow all the coca for making cocaine."

Xander nodded.  Andes folk music at the expresso bar.  Check.
"Yeah?" he encouraged.

"So we were were 'chuted in, and within an hour, got ambushed.  Most of my
squad bought it.  I got captured.  Drug lord turned me over to some peasant
guerilla types he was in league with."

"Jesus!"  said Xander.  He looked at Graham.  His first thought was torture.
  Fuck!  If anybody had hurt Graham, he was gonna jump the next plane to
Andes-land and kick some Andean (or is it Andanese?) drug lord butt.

"And they. hurt you?" suggested Xander, not sure if he should be asking
this.

Graham shook his head.  "No, not really.  Kept me tied up for about a week.
These guerilla guys were just kids.  Their leader was the oldest, and he
wasn't any older than me.      Got marched to this little coca-growing
village way up in the mountains.  I was more a hostage than a prisoner.  I
was just a grunt, a soldier, I didn't know anything.  No reason for them to
even question me.  They ended up exchanging me for the drug lord's cousin
who was in jail States-side."

Xander rolled on his back, and pulled Graham half atop him, so Graham was
lying face down, his head on Xander's chest, looking at the far wall, eyes
wide open.  Xander was running his hand through his hair, softly, gently.

Graham's cheek was pressed into Xander's chest, arm holding Xander's side.
Feeling Xander's warmth:  Xander's right hand on his head, his other arm
resting on his back, just barely moving, reassuring.

"The people in the village were just peasants.  Dirt poor.  Living at 14,000
or 15,000 feet.  Man, I thought I was in shape, but when they marched me up,
I was completely out of breath after every hundred meters or so.  Just the
altitude, less oxygen, y'know?"

"They must have had orders to keep me tied up, cause apart from that they
were really pretty nice to me.  I started to getting altitude sickness, from
just the lack of oxygen.  They called it 'suruchiki'.  I had the most
serious headache I have ever had in my life, and I was shaking like a leaf,
and just puking up everything.   The guerilla leader guy had them give me
this herbal tea stuff. pretty sure it was coca.  Anyway it fixed me up.  And
the girls in the village would take turns coming over to feed me, always the
same potato and vegetable soup."

"Yeah, I bet you were a big hit with the girls."  Xander grinned at him,
tousling his hair affectionately.

"The older women were always kidding them, the girls were always giggling,
and calling me 'suldadu-cha', 'soldier boy'."

Xander repeated 'suldadu-cha' to himself, thinking it had kind of a cute
ring to it, especially the way Graham said it.
"So bread and water diet, except that it was potato and water."

"It was the same food that they ate.  And they didn't really have any  food
to spare, but they always gave the first bite of food or drink to this
earth-mother goddess, always.  The girl who was supposed to feed me would
come over all giggly and take a spoonful of the soup and pour it on the
ground.   And the first time one of'em did it, I looked really puzzled.  And
she said "Pachamama pa", and I shook my head to tell her I didn't
understand.  And she looked sort of shocked, like I was some kind of mental
defective, or worse.  She thought a moment, and then smiled at pointed at
this old woman, who was clearly her mother and said "mama".   So I nodded
and repeated 'mama' cause that was pretty obviously 'mother'.

"Yeah."  Xander agreed, running his hand through Graham's hair.

"And then she moved her hand to indicate the whole village and the mountain
and the valley below, and said 'pacha", and I shook my head, and she thought
a second and then brightened totally and pointed up and shook her head,
y'know, 'Not pacha' and then pointed down and nodded and said "pacha".  And
she did that twice, and I got it: not the sky but the earth.  So I nodded at
the ground and said "Pacha".  And she grinned and giggled and nodded and
then repeated "Pacha-mama" slowly and then  "Pachamama" all run together.
So 'Earth Mother".  And I nodded and grinned that I got it.  And she took
another spoonful of the soup and poured it on the ground, and said
"Pachamama pa", which I figured meant that it was for Pachamama, like an
offering."

"Language learning the hard way, " joked Xander, gently running his hand
over Graham's back.

"Mainly I was worried that she was gonna give all the soup to Pachamama if I
didn't figure it out fast.   'Cause I was really hungry.  So I was
motivated."

Xander chuckled, and continued to caress his back.

"So it was all potato soup, minus the earth-mother goddess tax?"

"Yeah, and the occasional guinea pig."

"Guinea pig?"

"Yeah.  They all had'em in their huts, kept 'em as pets, till they roasted
'em and ate 'em."

"You *ate* a guinea pig?"

"Yeah -- guerilla leader guy gave some of his one night."

"and."

"I was so hungry, it was the best thing I'd ever eaten."

"No wonder you never complain about the cafeteria food."  Without seeing the
guy's face, Xander could feel Graham smile a little, he felt just a touch of
the tension in his body dissipate.

"The worst of it was not knowing what was going on.  I figured they weren't
gonna kill me if they were gonna feed me, cause there just wasn't that much
food around.  But I couldn't talk to 'em."

"They didn't like give you Spanish for Commando-guys in 12 easy lessons
before you left?"

Another easing of the tension in Graham's body.  Almost a chuckle as his
torso almost convulsed.  "Yeah, they did, but nobody really spoke Spanish.
Spoke Quechua, local Indian language."

Something clicked.  Xander ran his hand through the commando guy's hair
gently.  "OK, suldadu-cha, you were sorta screaming something in your sleep.
  What does 'mana' mean?"

Graham's head snapped up.  Every muscle in his body tensed again.  He stared
up at Xander, pure unadulterated terror in his eyes:
"'No.'  'Mana' means 'No'."
 

<< Stay tuned for part 14, In which Xander tries to get Graham to give him a
clue, but what he gets gives him the wiggins; same Graham-Time! Same
Graham-Channel!>>