We sat in a circle inside the largest hut on in the village. It belonged to the Chief, a heavy set fellow who, in local dress, looked like a middleweight sumo wrestler. He said something to Damu.

"He says it is an honor to meet you and that his people have been waiting for a long time."

"Tell him it is an honor to meet him as well," I returned respectfully.

Damu translated my words. The Chief entered into a conversation, which turned into a debate, with the man to his left. He was dressed much like Baba had been, only with far more lavish and intricate jewelry.

"Who's that?" I whispered to Damu.

"He is like priest. Highest religious person in village."

"If you don't mind me asking, what's this all about?"

Damu motioned to me to wait patiently. The other people in the tent, including Byron, sat quietly, watching each other expectantly. I noticed that Damu's brother Baba was present.

The conversation between the two leaders ceased, and the Chief began to speak to me. Damu interrupted him, and made some odd gestures, such as pointing at me then circling his head with his finger. The Chief nodded and began to speak.

"Chief says long ago, a boat left a land far away. That land was in trouble and its people were restless. The boat carried many of these people, who looked for a better land. The voyage was long and painful. Many people died from sicknesses that had never been seen. Still, they pressed on. After much time, and with no sight of land in much time, the people in the boat feared it was the end. They all prayed to their god to save them, to help them find land. It appeared hopeless.

"Their leader locked himself away in his room one day. He went saying he would not come out until god brought them to land. He went inside and began to pray. He prayed many weeks, with no food, no water. Many people believed he died."

The chief paused for a drink of water, then continued.

"Chief says, one month after he locked himself away, leader emerged from his room. He told his people that god had come to him in vision. God had said they must travel with sun in particular place in sky as it rose. God said that would lead them to land.

"The people took this good news, but had bad news to tell leader. Almost all food was gone, and worse, last three women aboard were close to death. The leader was sad by the news, but told his people that god would take care of them.

"They traveled two more days. On morning of third, a great commotion arose aboard ship. Land was in sight. The people celebrated survival and thanked god for bringing them to safety. But terrible thing happened as they reached the land they had so long waited for. The three remaining women died."

The chief paused again for a drink of water. I think he was doing this simply for effect. He continued:

"The people became unhappy again. They were angry with god for such an end to their existence. Why had he let them find land, only to destroy possibility of making new life there? Their leader spoke angrily and scorned them for having little faith in god. He told them god took care of them before, and would take care of them again.

"They tried to start a new life for themselves. They planted seeds that were found on ship, hoping would grow food to eat. The seeds only grew fruitless flowering plants. They forced to discover foods in their new land. Life began to go on normally. But still, there no women to bear children.

"A year passed and restlessness grew. They were saddened to know they would die and would be nothing of them left behind. The leader was sad as well, and again decided lock himself away until he had answer.

"He was alone in hut for month, did not emerge. This time, people sure he was dead. Then, two weeks later, leader emerged from hut with something special. He emerged with woman, pregnant with child! The people were thrilled and amazed and asked how feat was possible. He told them god had grown her from Manjaya plant. The seeds from ship were salvation.

"All other men went and prayed to god and each was given wife, grown from Manjaya plant. That is the story of Punja."

Many whisperings erupted from the members of the tent. They were pleased with the story, and nodded and smiled at me.

"What's this got to do with me?" I asked.

"Chief says you be Djumba, leader of Punja, returned from afterlife. He says it prophecy. Djumba say on death bed he return again."

I was dumbfounded.

"Congratulations old chap" Byron said with a chuckle and a slap on the back.

"This is preposterous."

"There is one test," said Damu.

"Oh?"

He pointed to the head priest, who was ready to administer the test before I even was able to get my eyes on him. He blew some powder off of his hand into my face. In my surprise, I drew a sharp breath. The powder settled lazily into my nasal cavity. It seemed to have the properties of itching powder. I huffed, and I huffed, and I let loose the most enormous sneeze I had ever let in my life. I opened my eyes to see a flurry of flower petals floating down in the air of the hut. The Chief spoke low and earnestly:

"Djumba! Sik manna Djumba!"

I sat on the precipice of the cliff, looking over the valley of the Punja. The noises of the jungle around me made me nervous. I wasn't yet ready to go back to the village. Everything was jumbled in my head. None of this seemed to be right. Rational evidence, pointing to the current circumstances, would have made me feel much better. So much for a nice, relaxing, vacation.

There was a snap and a rustling in the bushes behind me. I grabbed a stone, raising it to defend myself against the local wildlife.

"Hello?" I peeped, just in case.

"Leets! Where the bloody hell are you?" It was Byron.

I put down my stone. "Over here."

He emerged from the jungle, excitedly brushing himself of. "Blasted bugs!" He sat down next to me.

"Hell of a view," he said.

"Mmmhmmm."

We sat quietly, staring over the valley.

"So how does it feel to be Djumba, incarnate?" Byron asked, breaking the silence.

"I have a headache."

"Sorry about that." He was quiet again for a while. "The villagers are all very excited." More silence. "You know I hope you're not planning on shipping out. I don't think they'll allow that."

"Oh, wonderful."

"They think you're their savior."

"They're crazy."

"Well, quite honestly, I think they could be right."

"Don't tell me you're falling for this bit, too?"

He was quiet again for a while. I assumed he was collecting his thoughts, searching for justification.

"The chief and the priest wrote Gladiola Days."

"What?!"

"Well you see, all of the children born in the last fifteen years had all been males. As things were, the Punja were facing another crisis."

"Why didn't they just grow more women from plants?"

"They tried. It hasn't worked since Djumba died."

"And Gladiola Days?"

"The Chief and the Priest lcked themselves away in a hut vowing not to emerge until they had a solution. That solution was the manuscript for Gladiola Days."

"How did it get from here to the Orpheum?"

"My predecessor here brought it to England with him when his term was up. He showed it to some friends in the drama department and it took off."

"So, really, its all a bizarre coincidence that I managed to end up here."

"Well the Chief maintains that their god told them if they wrote the manuscript and released it to the masses, Djumba would return."

"And here I am."

"And here you are," he said.

There was another rustling in the bushes behind us.

"Oy!" shouted Byron into the jungle. There was silence, then rustling, then silence. Then there erupted a hideous scream. The sound of an elephant thrashing around in pile of brittle leaves filled the air. Damu erupted from the foliage in full sprint, his hands in his hair, rubbing furiously as if to dislodge some unseen invader.

At our panicked urgings, he stopped dead in his tracks, teetering at the edge of the precipice. Byron and I grabbed the waistband of his pants, preventing him from plunging over.

He muttered something, then sat between us, breathing heavily. "Now I remember why I move to city," he panted, shaking his head.

We three sat silently, looking over the valley.

"Beautiful view," said Damu.

"Mmmmhmmm" Byron and I returned simultaneously. The silence continued.

I chuckled. Byron and Damu looked at me.

"I was just thinking about my wife."

"She is very special." said Damu.

"No, I mean the way she was before" I felt a twinge of sadness. "I kind of miss her, really."

Byron and Damu partook in respectful silence.

I continued somberly, "Strange how one day you're just another nameless, faceless, corporate accountant, the next you're king of a small tribe in southern Mexico."

I sighed and tossed a rock over the edge. We listened for its impact below.

"It's a strange world," ventured Byron solemnly.

"Indeed it is," I said. "Indeed it is."

We sighed in unison and resumed our observation of the valley in silence.