by Scott Russell Duncan
Evil omen one happened ten years before the chalk-white men with beards and thunder in their hands came: a flaming ear of corn shot in the sky and glowed like a wound in heaven. The second omen: the House of Authority burst in flames. The third evil omen was the straw temple of the god of fire got struck by lightning. The fourth: fire streamed through the sky on a sunny day. The fifth: wind lashed Lake Texcoco into a flood. The sixth evil omen was the weeping sound night after night crying, “My children, we must flee!” The seventh: fishermen caught an odd bird, ash colored with a mirror in its head that showed the night sky. They brought the bird to emperor Motecuhzoma Xocoyotzin. He looked in the mirror and saw a vision of the war of pale men riding deer. He looked once more and the odd bird was gone.
The eighth omen was me.
A two-headed man was seen in the streets of Tenochtitlan. The seers said that he was deformed. That he was an oddity. They took him to emperor’s zoo of human curiosities and eventually to the Casa Denegrida–the room with no windows painted all black in which the emperor meditated in darkness on what the seers told him. When Motecuhzoma Xocoyotzin came to the Black House to see him, this evil omen, Two-Heads had disappeared.
More recent scribes write that the Mexica scribes, who recorded the omen of Two-Heads decades after the conquest, must have been alluding to the formation of the new race, the mestizo. And today, when you see me with my two heads creeping around the streets of California, it is still an omen. The pocho, the Anglo-Chicano, the coconut. The coming again of the mixed blood, mixed culture of European and Native American.
The American scribes have already foretold this through their haruspication of population science and census projections. Aztecs called these omens evil, and likewise the American scribes portray the Anglo-Chicano with xenophobia, as a crisis to be solved, a Mexapocalypseomen of the end times of Anglo privilege. Behold the terror of the future. Two-heads, the coming of the mestizo, the looming exotic native norm. Being led into the Casa Denegrida of your mind at night, into your dreams of who you are and what you will be.
Scott Russell Duncan, a.k.a. Scott Duncan-Fernandez, recently completed The Ramona Diary of SRD, a memoir of growing up Chicano-Anglo and a fantastical tour reclaiming the myths of Spanish California. Scott’s fiction involves the mythic, the surreal, the abstract, in other words, the weird. Scott received his MFA from Mills College in Oakland, California where he now lives and writes. He is an assistant editor at Somos en escrito. See more about his work and publications on Scott’s website, scottrussellduncan.com.
Images in this post are from the Florentine and Mendoza codices.