*This chapter is still a work in progress, but I wanted to post what I had written so far, as inspiration unexpectedly struck last night. I am currently doing some research that will aid in helping me to write the rest of the chapter, and I hope to add more to what is written below as soon as possible. Thank you for reading!*
After dinner, Yich'ak B'alam sat outside on a fallen log smoking a cigarette. And B'ak B'alam, who usually ran about as free as the wild things in the forest, and played until he was winded and his mother forced him to come in, was this night contented to set beside his father, subdued.
"What troubles you, my son? Are you not feeling well?" Yich'ak B'alam asked him.
"No, I am well, Tat," B'ak B'alam answered him.
'You hardly ate your supper," Yich'ak B'alam commented. Indeed, B'ak B'alam had not eaten a single piece of venison at table. B'ak B'alam shrugged his shoulders and threw a rock into the dirt.
"I just did not feel like eating. That is all."
"And you do not feel like playing either? That hardly seems like you."
"Not today." Yich'ak B'alam nodded and drew on his cigarette.
"Well, that is the way things are sometimes," he said, eyeing his son, but B'ak B'alam said nothing. "Na' told me what happened today." It was then that B'ak B'alam crumbled. He screwed up his face and clung tightly to his father, sobbing heavily into his chest.
"I am sorry," he cried. "I did not mean to frighten Na' and make her cry. Please do not be angry with me." Ah! Yich'ak B'alam thought to himself. A confession!
"Peace, child. I am not angry," he comforted his son.
"You swear it?"
"I swear it. Come now, tell me what happened." And so, B'ak B'alam sat on his father's knee, wiped his eyes with the back of his hand, and recounted to him the events of the day. He had been walking by the entrance to the hut when he heard a voice call out to him.
"My son." He stepped into the hut..
"Na'?" he called, but his mother was nowhere to be seen. Then he heard the sound of furiously beating wings, as if a bird were trapped in the hut. He entered the sleeping area of the hut and there on the ridgepole of the hut was a white dove. Suddenly he felt bone-achingly tired. He stood there swaying on his feet, eyes half closed.
"If you are weary, my son, lie down and I will give you rest," the voice spoke to him again. B'ak B'alam could not but obey. He lay down at once and it seemed he feel into a deep sleep and the voice was speaking to him as if in a dream. It told him of many strange and wondrous things.
"What sorts of things?" Yich'ak B'alam asked him.