Limekiller!

Recent reports have brought better news. A Mayan family now lives at Moho Bul, with some help from an aid group. They are keeping the planted area cleared, and keeping their culture alive. Now there are fruit trees again at Moho Bul, and a thatched hut, and a dory tied up to the little dock. Mayan children, and turkeys poke around in the dirt. I suppose the mosquitoes are still there too. It’s a timeless place. Drop by and see it yourself, next time you’re down that way.

AFTERWORD

by Ethan Davidson

I was very young when I lived with my father, Avram Davidson, in British Honduras. My main memory is of being attacked by an angry chicken. But I also remember him taking me up the Moho river to look at the plantation of Moho Bul, with its fruit trees and its one room house, which had a roof made of coconut thatch, and a dirt floor.

After Avram left British Honduras in the 60’s, he continued to send money to a local family to maintain Moho Bul. In 1977, he sent me down to what was, by then, Belize to see how it was doing.

As there is no transportation from Punta Gorda to the property, I hired the services of an Englishman who lived next door to Moho Bul.

He took me up to his home in his boat, a dugout canoe with a motor. Traveling up the Moho river, I saw what Avram had described, the trees full of iguanas in many different colors, some green, some red, some grey.

He cooked and served dinner. The menu was rather limited. Seven-up, rum, and iguana. It really did taste like chicken.

We drank, and he told me about his life. He ran a small hunting lodge for British soldiers stationed in Punta Gorda. What do you suppose they hunted? Iguanas.

He was not alone. On market day, Mayans would come into town with dugout canoes full of live iguanas, their mouths sewn shut. As for the Garifuna (an ethnic group made of Africans and Indians who had intermarried), they enjoyed digging for buried iguana eggs in the sandy beaches.

The next day, he took me to Moho Bul. Swatting away mosquitoes, I saw the sad truth. The place had not been maintained. It was in ruins. The house had fallen down. Some of the fruit trees had survived, but only because fruit gatherers had cleared bush from around them so that they could take the fruit.

I contacted Avram and explained the situation. He sent me some money, which I gave to the Englishman, with the understanding that he would hire some Mayans to clear the bush around the surrounding trees. And this he did.

In 1993, shortly before Avram died, I returned to Belize again to look in on the land. I settled the taxes, and visited Punta Gorda. But the Englishman was not there. He had had an argument with a local policeman, and had been shot.

So I hired a Garifuna man to take me to Moho Bul. There, I was once again in for a surprise. The land was clear, because there was a small Mayan village there. Apparently, after the Mayans had cleared the land, the Englishman had told them they could stay, and they did.

I didn’t really object to the Mayans living at Moho Bul, they were putting it to better use than I ever would. But there was one thing that did make me sad. During the whole boat trip, I did not see one dragon in the trees.

¡LIMEKILLER! First Edition 2003¡Limekiller!

by Avram Davidson, edited by Grania Davis and Henry Wessells, was published by Old Earth Books, Post Office Box 19951, Baltimore, Maryland, 21211-0951. Two thousand copies have been printed by Thomson-Shore, Inc.. The typeset is Berthold Baskerville, Newsel, and Lithos Black, printed on 60# Glatfeltner Supple Opaque Recycled Natural. The binding cloth is Pearl Linen. Design and typesetting by Garcia Publishing Services, Woodstock, Illinois

AVRAM DAVIDSON

AVRAM DAVIDSON was one of the great masters of short fiction of the twentieth century, a writer who won the major awards in the science- fiction, fantasy, and mystery genres — the Hugo, Edgar, and World Fantasy Awards — while constantly pushing at the boundaries of those genres.