Christmas in Cancun

by KaLyn Cooper

  “What did you say?” Jack’s head shot up. “Jimmy sent Tzuc some of the manuscripts?”

  “No,” Jillian corrected, “he never got the originals, only copies of a few pages.”

  Jack glanced down at the charts, pointed, and smiled. “He hasn’t figured it out.”

  Jillian gazed at the name of the river at the end of Jack’s fingertip, Rio Secreto. “Can it be that easy?”

  “Hide in plain sight,” Jack announced. “Makes sense. Kuk’s part of the family left Isla Mujeres supposedly to protect the fresh water source. What if they were actually protecting something else?”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Jillian stared up at the Virgin Mary atop an obsidian platform that commanded the square formed by two blindingly white stucco homes, a sedate Catholic church, and the Rio Secreto, translated as Secret River. This Madonna, three times as large as the underwater statues and much more detailed, pointed toward the river.

  Kind of.

  On the other side of the water stood another smaller Virgin Mary, but her arm had been broken off at the elbow many, many years ago.

  “Kuk, are you sure this is the same passage as in the book?” Jillian ran fingertips over the indentations that were carved centuries ago and worn nearly flat by wind and rain.

  “Yes.” Kuk’s deep voice echoed off the buildings. He sat with Jack on the front porch in folding chairs at a plastic card table, their heads buried in family manuscripts, handmade maps, and charts of the ocean a mile away.

  Addison giggled as one of Kuk’s children, or maybe it was a nephew, ran a toy dump truck in circles around her feet, making motor sounds. Several young children played freely in the rough-paved courtyard, the only adults the three of them and an ancient woman who barely moved in a rocking chair that looked as old and worn as she.

  Jillian knew the phrase by heart. The new Virgin Goddess will protect the way and show the faithful the Secret pure water where our Mother and her child have hidden. The others are lost forever.

  She wandered back to the table. “Kuk, who’s the woman?”

  “Mi bisabuela.” He then glanced at her and repeated in English, “My great-grandmother.”

  “How long has she lived here?” Jillian returned to her metal chair—now hot in the mid-day heat even though it sat in the shade—and stretched out her aching legs. They had spent the entire morning hiking the riverbanks and wading in the caves. Thank goodness for the baby backpack. Jack had carried Addi most of the time, but he and Kuk had gone spelunking several times, leaving the two of them to play in the water. They had checked every nook and recess and found only bats.

  “All her life. She was born here, and she’s now ninety-two.” He smiled at the old woman and spoke only slightly louder. “And she’s still mean as a poked jaguar and sharp as a Mayan hunter’s dagger.”

  She gave him a tolerant stare, followed by a toothless smile.

  “Te amo, bisabuela.” Kuk’s I love you was ignored as her gaze returned to the little ones moving sand from one point to another.

  He read the passage out loud in Old Spanish. “Sometimes it’s easier for me to think in Mayan when I hear it in Old Spanish.”

  His great-grandmother made a gravely noise and stared at Kuk, who concentrated on the passage. He read it aloud again.

  This time a tat-tat-tat came from her direction. She quickly spoke again, a little louder.

  In Spanish, Kuk asked, “What’s that, Great-Grandmother?” Their conversation shot back and forth in what Jillian had learned to be a unique dialect of Old and Modern Spanish mixed with Mayan.

  Kuk’s gaze darted between the old woman and his note-filled paper. “I’ll be damned.” He mumbled the verse again, slightly changed. He stood abruptly, nearly knocking over the tenuous table. “How could I have missed that?” He sprinted across the pavers and hugged the woman, lifting her from her rocker.

  “What?” Jack demanded and shifted the papers back into their original piles.

  “The new Virgin Goddess will protect the way and show the faithful the Sacred pure water where our Mother and her child have hidden. The others are lost forever.” He danced around the square with native movements, yelling in Mayan, the children joining in behind him mimicking his actions.

  “What the fuck?” Jack called to his cousin.

  “Hey,” the big man warned. “Little ears that repeat everything. If my wife hears that word, I’m sending her after you.”

  “Okay, so what’s the big deal?” Jack said guardedly.

  “It’s written wrong.” Huge shoulders shrugged, as if that’s all they needed to know.

  “I don’t get it,” Jillian admitted.

  With the patience of the college professor he was, Kuk stopped his dance in front of them. “Secreto. Sagrado. Secret versus sacred.”

  “Still not getting it,” Jack admitted.

  Kuk picked up the ragged leather-bound book. “This is a translation of ancient folk lore as spoken in Mayan and written in Old Spanish. Mayans didn’t have the hard g sound—like found in great, good—in their language, so the words sound similar.” Carefully pronouncing, he repeated the Old Spanish words for secret and sacred.

  “Still not following.” Jack glowered.

  “Rio Secreto was supposedly named because the river appears then disappears into caves, hiding, making it a secret. Over millions of years, some caves close to the surface have fallen in, giving this whole area access to fresh water. I thought the statues were hidden in the caves…the secret pure water.” His broad smile lit up the quad and smoothed the angular planes of his ancestral features.

  “Yeah. That’s why we walked our as—butts off this morning following the river,” Jack complained.

  “They’re not in the river.” Long black hair flew side to side as Kuk shook his head shoulder to shoulder.

  “No sh—kidding.”

  The Sacred water. The Sacred pure fresh water. Oh my gosh! Jillian jumped in, smiling ear to ear. “Is there a cenote here?”

  “Smart girl.” Kuk plucked her from her chair and spun her around. “You win the anthropology award of the day.”

  Kuk pointed in the same direction as the Madonna. “About a mile in that direction. And you, my cousin, are a lucky man. The elders of the village trek there on Christmas Day to pay homage to the…”

  “Virgin Mary,” all three voices chorused.

  On the far side of the river, she saw a well-worn path that had not yet been swallowed by the lowland rain forest.

  Jack stared at the map in front of him and the satellite photos, compass in hand. “Where exactly is it? I can’t find it on any of these maps. And I don’t remember ever playing in it as a child. Did we?”

  “No.” Kuk gathered one of the boys under his arm. “It’s sacred to the oldest of my branch of the family. I’d forgotten about it since I haven’t lived here in years.”

  Kuk checked his watch. “Sorry, but I have to get to Xcarat for tonight’s performance.” He gave Jillian a one-armed hug and did that man-slap, fist-bump thing with Jack before jumping into his SUV. “Text me if…when you find Ix Chel.”

  Jack scooped up Addi and planted a smacking kiss on her cheek. “Let’s go, baby girl.” He deposited her in the backpack then snaked into the straps. “Jillian, would you please put up her sun shade? It’s blazing out here today.”

  She did as requested. He was a wonderful man. He’d been so considerate of both her and Addi all day, constantly making sure they had plenty to drink, taking the pack as soon as he exited the cave.

  He’d shown her that same care and attentiveness last night as they made love. He’d teased her with his fingers, bringing her to the edge twice before he’d let her go over. She hadn’t had time to fully recover before he made her come a few minutes later with his mouth, sucking on her oversensitive clit. But when he slid into her, he took her breath away and, with it, went every reason she shouldn’t be with him.

  She was falling in love. Hard and fast.

&nb
sp; “Jillian, you okay?” Jack’s fingers captured the stray hairs that kept sneaking out and stuffed them back under her hat. He traced her jawline then lifted her chin up and brushed a kiss over her lips. “Feel up to a mile hike?”

  “I’ll be right beside you every step of the way.” That’s where she wanted to be for the rest of her life, too.

  The path was well worn and easy to follow, yet uneven as it wound through dense undergrowth. Too often the trail narrowed, and she followed Jack, but he often turned to check on her. Jillian didn’t know how, but he moved with silent fluidity. She, on the other hand, seemed to crash and thrash her way through. To avoid roots and the horrible low plants with thin razor-like leaves that cut through her thick socks, Jillian was forced to study the path in front of her, planning every step. She ran head-on into Addi’s butt and thus Jack, who had stopped suddenly.

  “Whoa, darling.” He spun around, and his hands grabbed her shoulders to steady them both.

  With a smile of tentative success, Jack announced, “We’re here.” He kissed her in his excitement and pulled her to stand beside him. “You have to see this.”

  The earth dropped thirty feet below the edge to a sapphire blue pool of clear water. On the far side, perched on a rock shelf that jutted out over the relatively round cenote, stood a very old Virgin Mary. Her hands were folded palm-to-palm in prayer, her head bowed, nose nearly touching the tips of her fingers.

  Shivers ran through Jillian from her scalp to her toes. The place radiated sacristy. Wild animals hidden in the thick greenery that surrounded them seemed to yell, warning them to go away.

  If the cenote were a clock and the Madonna stood at the twelve, at the ten position tall trees with trunks twelve feet around threw their roots into the pool below and buried the ends in a pile of dirt and rocks that had fallen there a millennia ago. Their branches stretched out over the cenote to shield it from the prying eyes of satellites. From her view, though, Jillian could see the entrance to a cave, an amazing array of stalactites, stalagmites, and long waves of what cavers call curtains.

  From the eight to nine position was a meadow filled with wildflowers, now shaded by the trees. A trampled path led to the edge, where wilting flowers were stacked a foot high.

  Jack pointed. “I can climb down using those roots and vines. You and Addi can wait for me in the field.”

  The path around was as tromped down as the one in from the Rio Secreto quad. Jack slid Addi off his back and pulled out the pack’s kickstand, effectively giving her a seat she couldn’t crawl out of but could see everything, if she were awake. He placed her in the deep shade of the tall trees, soft ferns on either side practically camouflaging her. Careful not to wake Addi, he took his gear bag from the pack and clipped it to his utility belt.

  Jack took Jillian in his arms. “A kiss for luck. I have a good feeling about this.” When he touched his lips to hers, it was an unspoken promise of the double entendre. His lips were soft and warm, non-demanding of more than she was willing to give him. She was willing to give him everything, but at this time, in this place, she was more than satisfied with what he gave her. Tonight, she would show him exactly how she felt by the way she would make love to him. Then she would tell him the truth. She loved him with every fiber of her body and soul.

  Jillian broke the kiss. “Go see if they are there.”

  With the smile of an anxious child on Christmas morning, Jack stepped to the tangle of roots and vines. He tested several by pulling on them, eventually allowing one to hold his entire weight. He gave Jillian a smile and disappeared into the hole, that was about 150 feet across.

  She watched from the edge but lost sight of him on several occasions when he moved to a different root that swept under the edge.

  “Somebody else has been down here, recently.” Jack’s voice echoed. He knelt and studied the footprints in the sandy edges. “They’re small and barefoot, like a child’s or a woman’s. I might be wrong about the timeframe.”

  He stood and looked up at her. “We’ll come back with my repelling gear. You need to see this place. It’s magnificent.”

  Jillian had never climbed, but she trusted Jack implicitly. He would never put her in danger or let anything happen to her.

  “That will be fun. What’s it look like?”

  “A river running through a cave a couple million years old. Some really nice formations in this part. I’m sure there are more farther down. You okay up there?”

  “Just fine.” She watched him glance toward the cave. “Go ahead. Find Ix Chel, the mother goddess, and her daughter.”

  “I’ll be back in a few.” Jack removed the high-powered flashlight from his cargo shorts and faded into the darkness of the cave.

  “I’ll be here.” Jillian checked on Addi, who slept soundly snuggled in her pack. The heat of the day and moist jungle that surrounded them beaded sweat on her daughter’s brow. She lifted Addi’s hair from her forehead and blew gently to cool her, thinking she’d need to drink as soon as she awoke.

  The screech of the animals startled Jillian, but just as quickly as they had chorused their dislike, they quieted to the natural buzz and caw. She looked around and saw nothing unusual, so she returned to her perch beside the roots, waiting for Jack.

  Splashing was her first clue that Jack was coming. “Jillian.” His excited voice bellowed as it bounced off the bowl-like cenote. “Jillian. I found them. And damn are they ugly. Heavy as hell, too. They have to weigh about fifty pounds each. And, yes, I took plenty of pictures of the site before I grabbed the idols.”

  Jillian couldn’t hold in her excitement. “You found them! You actually found them?”

  “You bet, darling.” He corrected her then, “We found them. Gramps would be so thrilled. There was this little shrine way back in the cave with—”

  Jillian didn’t hear anything more from Jack as her brain shut off his words.

  It was too busy concentrating on the man whispering in her ear who had his hand over her mouth, pinching her nose, effectively slamming all air to her lungs shut. He pulled her from the edge out of Jack’s sight.

  “I suppose I should thank you, Jillian.”

  She knew that snarky voice. She’d heard it in the restaurant and again yelling at their boat yesterday.

  Johnathan Chastain.

  She twisted, trying to free herself from his powerful arms, but he’d plastered his chest to her back, his arm belting her waist to his, trapping her arms to her sides. Her body was screaming for air now. White spots danced in her brain.

  Stomping her foot as hard as she could, her boot met his. She might as well have kicked a rock.

  She tried to slam her heel into his shin but missed. He must have anticipated the move.

  As she stuck out her foot for another attempt, he warned her, “Try it and I’ll kill you now and use that beautiful sleeping baby over there to get my idols.”

  Jillian’s whole body stilled.

  No.

  Not Addi. Her daughter was her whole life. She wouldn’t allow him to touch her baby.

  “Good girl.” He released her nose, and she sucked in a huge breath, hoping it wouldn’t be her last. “That’s it, take another deep breath. We’re going to wait right here for Jack to bring me my idols, and then I’ll let you join your lover.”

  She heard the sarcastic snicker. There was something a little crazy in it.

  “You’re going to kill us, aren’t you?” Her words were muffled by his hand, but he understood.

  “Certainly not.” He tightened his grip on her face and abdomen. “Pity. Jack is going to have an accident, and you are going to die trying to save him.”

  “Addison.” It was the scream of a mother who loved her daughter more than life itself.

  “Don’t worry about the baby. If you cooperate, I’ll save her. I’ve heard that Lilly had always wanted a daughter. She can have one now, such a pretty little thing. It’s good that I came along when I did and found both you and Jack, dead in the cenote
after retrieving my idols for me.”

  “They’re not yours,” Jillian insisted.

  Anger spewed from his body, and his voice raged, “They have always been mine. I spent my whole life searching for those damned idols, diving on worthless hunches of old man Girard’s, following the half-assed guesses of that stupid Tzuc. He was worthless for everything except eliminating the Girards that stood in my path.”

  His laugh was that of insanity. “I was there both times, you know. I had to be sure the pansy would do it. He was pissed enough at the old lady when she wouldn’t give him the manuscripts. It was easy to run her off the road and into the swamp.”

  Jillian couldn’t take it all in. Tzuc had killed Jack’s grandmother, and Chastain had watched.

  “Bastard promised me that Gramps Girard would fork over what he needed to find the idols once his wife was gone. Fucker didn’t. No. He got his precious little Jack to dive, cutting my family totally out. We had a contract. Those idols belong to the Chastain family. ” He bellowed the last.

  Now that oxygen was returning to her brain, Jillian became more aware of her surroundings and the irrational man holding her.

  “Jillian? Where are you?” Jack sounded concerned and close to the surface.

  “Tell him you’re fine and waiting for him up here,” Chastain ordered. “I’m going to let my hand up so you can speak. Say anything I don’t like, and that baby of yours goes flying into the cenote right after you. Shake your head if you understand.”

  She understood all right. He was going to kill her no matter what. She also trusted Jack, with her child’s life.

  Jillian nodded and looked to where Addison slept in innocence.

  Tears ran down her face. She could do this.

  When he released the hand over her mouth, she yelled, “I’m right here, Jack. Waiting for you at the top. How close are you?”

  “A few feet from the edge.”

  Good. Close enough.

  “These things are really heavy.” Jack continued his conversation.

  She hurriedly broke in, “Chastain is here.”