Mayan December

by Brenda Cooper

  “I thought you’d need some ways to think about this.” His tone was so reasonable it made her angrier.

  “This is my daughter. You can’t possibly have any kids! Never, ever—”

  A pair of dark-clothed figures stepped up to them, stopping her diatribe in mid-sentence. The closest streetlight was dim, but enough to see both the typical Federale rifles, and that the two had concerned looks on their faces. “Haga usted tiene que ayudar a la señora?”

  “No. I don’t need help.” She slid into the car. With the Federales there, Ian let her close the door. She rolled down her window and said, “Gracias,” to the soldiers. Ignoring Ian, she pulled away slowly, noticing that the Federales had engaged Ian in conversation.

  Good.

  Once she reached the main highway, she sped up.

  CHAPTER 14

  The bright lights of resort entrances streamed by Alice: gold exclamation points tourism had dumped onto this once-pristine coast. She cursed as she had to stop for a military convoy of dented trucks and unimogs painted with the color of jungle camouflage.

  What had happened to Nix? Why had she gotten so mad at Ian that she hadn’t asked him for more information? But he should have come clean. And was he really there innocently? She shook her head and got going again as the road cleared. Ian had to have been in the same place on accident. He had known people at the party.

  She pulled in, stopped the car, and sat in the sudden silence, breathing hard. She had to be calm. For Nixie. She placed a hand on her stomach, and felt her breath lift it up and down like she used to when she was pregnant.

  The lights of another car reflected in her rearview mirror made her blink and put her head down. She sighed and got out, immediately hearing her name. “Alice, I’m sorry.”

  Ian.

  Damn him. She didn’t turn to look at him, just stared at the hotel lights shining on stylized paintings on the stucco walls. Two glasses of wine weren’t enough to impair her driving, but it had apparently impaired her emotions. She wanted him to leave in the worst way. But then who would she talk to about her daughter traveling into the past?

  Damn. Her voice came out stiff. “Come on. You drove all the way here.”

  At least he was smart enough to follow her up in silence.

  When she led Ian into the house, she found Nixie still dressed, sitting at the table with Oriana, playing a game of gin rummy. When Nixie looked up at her, she had a guilty look in her eyes. “Mom, it was my fault. I told them not to worry you. I made Oriana swear.”

  Oriana watched Alice silently, her face a mask. Neither of them seemed surprised to see Ian. He’d probably called them from his car. She hadn’t, afraid she’d say the wrong thing.

  The energy in the room felt fragile, as if a single wrong word could shatter a truce.

  She pulled a coffee cup from the tiny cupboard and filled it with water, put it in the microwave and punched the button to boil it. “Does anyone else want mint tea?”

  She ended up making four cups. Done, she settled slowly into the one remaining chair, between Nixie and Ian. She leaned over and gave Nixie a hug, savoring the salty smell of her hair, the fact that she was actually there. “Tell me what happened.”

  “It was after we went swimming with the turtle. Oriana went to stand in line and get us water.” She must have felt Alice stiffen because she hurried to say, “I could see her, and she could see me. I stayed because I didn’t want to lose our place on the rock and so I could watch for the turtle. Then I heard a girl crying, or someone crying. I didn’t know it was a girl yet . . . but I climbed down the rock to the beach and she was just a little older than me, and she was crying hard. But she stopped after a while. Her name was Hun Kan.”

  Why didn’t Nixie sound scared instead of excited?

  Ian leaned in. “Say that again.”

  “Hun Kan.”

  “One Sky,” he said. “That’s a powerful name.”

  Alice flinched. She should have been able to translate that. Would have. She just wasn’t thinking about anything except Nixie. She took another sip of tea, trying to clear her head.

  Nixie continued. “That’s about all. We learned each others names, and then a bunch of boys were coming toward us from the beach and I came back.”

  “Just like that? You decided to come back and you did?” Ian asked.

  “Well, I took the trail up that I’d taken down. And at the top, there was my stuff, and the tourists, and Oriana looking mad at me.”

  Oriana laughed. “More like worried.”

  Something felt wrong. Nixie didn’t lie, but she omitted. “What else happened?”

  Nixie swallowed, and her hand went to her wrist, turning her watch around and around. Alice could have sworn Nix’s watch was blue, but this one was her new favorite color, yellow.

  “Why do you have a new watch?”

  Nixie glanced at Ian rather than at Alice. “I gave Hun Kan the stone, like you said. But I also gave her my watch.” She clamped her mouth down tight, but didn’t take her gaze from Ian.

  “And what did she give you?” Ian asked, not a shred of doubt in his face or posture.

  Nixie reached for her neck and pulled out a long chain of jade and amber stones on a knotted string. It had been hidden under her shirt. She set it on the table, the amber glowing in the warm interior lighting. Alice blinked at it. The stones were smooth, but not perfectly round. They each had holes in them, nearly all the same size, but clearly hand-done. A strip of thin, flat brown leather held the beads together, and the clasp was a round jade stone that the end of the leather looped over.

  It was stunning. It belonged in a museum, or an art gallery. Not on her table. Not on her eleven-year-old. “It looks . . . beautiful.”

  Alice had gone past angry to cold and shivery. Frightened. She looked over at Ian for the first time since the parking lot in Cancun. “What do you think?”

  He picked it up, holding it so the light interacted with the amber. “Fit for a princess.”

  “Why would the girl give that away?” Oriana asked, her voice awed.

  “She touched my hair. The first time she touched me, she looked afraid.” She glanced at Oriana. “I’m sorry I hid the necklace from you, too.”

  “So that explains why you wouldn’t climb into your pajamas, huh?” Oriana said, her voice disapproving.

  Nixie ignored the comment. “But I . . . I don’t think I traded her enough. It was a cheap watch. Maybe I’ll see her again.”

  Ian looked serious. He set the necklace on the table. “If you do, no more watches. No electronics. Nothing from this time. That’s why I gave you the bead.”

  “I’m sorry, but the necklace was so pretty and the single bead was so small.” Nixie brightened. “Although she loved the string it was on.”

  Ian sighed. “I should have thought about that. At least it’s leather and it’ll rot.” He glanced at Nixie. “No more plastic.” He grinned. “What will the archeologists think?”

  She giggled. “I don’t know. I took pictures.”

  Oh. Oh! “Did they come out?”

  “Of course. Why wouldn’t they?” The look Nixie turned on Alice made her wince. Nix was right. Cameras didn’t need networks until you wanted to do something with the pictures. But what was she supposed to say? Gee, I’m sorry honey, I’m still a little shocked? All she could get out was, “Did you print them?”

  Nixie gave her the ‘duh’ look and went over to the desk, putting three pictures on the table. In all of them, a Mayan girl with mussed dark hair stared back at her. The camera had captured fear in her eyes, and maybe something else. Awe? The girl wore the necklace that now graced the table. Hun Kan’s clothes looked hand-woven and hand-dyed, and her forehead sloped back, a sign she was aristocracy, had endured a board tied to her head to impart the look of the rich and powerful.

  Behind her, three canoes graced the beach. Alice yearned for a look at the handwork on the canoes. The digital pictures themselves should be much clearer if she z
oomed in. “Did you save them in our shared file?”

  Nixie grinned, wearing her I’m-proud-of-myself-and-I-gotcha look. “I saved the best for last.” She dropped one more picture on the table between Alice and Ian.

  Alice gasped as Ian picked it up, his hands trembling. Behind Hun Kan, in a corner of the picture, the Temple of the Descending God was bright blue and red.

  Through everything else—the feather, the necklace, even the pictures of the girl, some part of her had not believed Nixie’s “time travel” was real. That part of her just shut up and stared at the picture. She knew that ruin—no, she corrected herself, that temple. She knew it. And neither Nixie nor an army could have restored it. Or faked it.

  Ian broke the fragile energy. “Guess you better carry your camera everywhere you go, huh?”

  Nixie nodded, looking pleased. “Or my phone. But the camera’s better. My dad gave me my first one.”

  Ian nodded, and had the brains to hold his tongue.

  Nixie turned to Alice. “I wasn’t gone very long. I really wasn’t. And I didn’t try to make it happen. It just happened.”

  Alice let out a long breath and gestured for Nixie to come over to her. Only when she held her daughter, solid and firm with wild blonde hair that tickled her nose, only then could she speak. “I know, honey. I know. Whatever this is, it isn’t your fault.”

  “What are we going to do?” Nixie asked.

  “You’re going to go to bed.” She swallowed hard. What was she going to do?

  Nixie leaned in and gave her a hug, then started toward the bathroom. “Shower, first,” Alice called out automatically. “You were in the ocean today. Get the salt off your body.”

  She waited for the ritual argument, but Nixie didn’t make it. A few moments later, the sharp rattle of water hitting the glass reassured her.

  Best worry about tomorrow before the next day. Oh god, tomorrow. The Secret Service. “Oriana, can you be here earlier than I asked? I have an unexpected meeting in the morning, in Cancun. I’ll take you two with me and you can go to the beach by the hotel.” Nix would be close to her.

  Oriana nodded. “I’ll come at seven. Is that okay?”

  Alice nodded. “How about the twentieth? I got some new work. Can you watch her then?

  Oriana grinned. “Sure. I kinda like the kid, and who’d miss this mystery?” In spite of her grin and ready agreement, she sounded a little apprehensive.

  Oriana had kept Nix’s adventure from her. Surely they were planning to tell when Alice got home. The circle of people she could talk to was tiny—Oriana, Ian, Nix herself. Maybe Peter. Maybe she’d try Steven after all, before she went stark raving mad. “I appreciate the help,” she told Oriana.

  Oriana hesitated. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you right away. Nixie said your meetings were important and she was safe anyway, and, I mean, why make you worry?”

  Alice nodded. Anger at Oriana flickered, but only for a moment. “She gets me that way sometimes, too. But I want—I need you to promise that you’ll call me if she ever goes missing again, even for just five minutes? And that you’ll keep her away from ruins? I don’t want her near any more ruins unless she’s holding my hand.”

  “I understand,” Oriana said. “Sorry.” Then she grinned. “But you should’ve seen the turtle.”

  “I would have liked that,” Alice said, suddenly exhausted. “Can you two go now? I want to be alone.”

  Ian leaned over and pulled her close in a friendly hug. “This is amazing, you know. Really amazing.”

  She shook her head. “You’re as crazy as your friend Peter.” She sighed. “I’m still mad at you. You should go.”

  He nodded. “I will if you want. But think about it as good. She always gets back, and I think she always will. Maybe Nixie’s just innocent enough to see things we can’t.”

  She blinked up at him. “Is this happening to anyone else? Do you know?”

  He shook his head. “I’ll ask around.”

  “How do I reach you?”

  He sent his contact information to her phone, and then he and Oriana left.

  The room felt horribly sterile and silent.

  Alice took the necklace into the kitchen and looked at in the brightest light she could find. The amber alone was worth hundreds, maybe thousands of dollars, the beads clear gold and red with hints of green. The jade beads? She had no idea. But she knew who might. She emailed Steven to see if he could meet her for lunch, and then carefully set the necklace back on the table.

  She sat in the chair closest to the bathroom door, listening to Nixie sing in the shower. The whole time, she stared at the picture with the bright-colored corner of the temple.

  DECEMBER 17, 2012

  CHAPTER 15

  Stars faded into the brightening sky as Ah Bahlam and fifteen others gathered at the gates of Zama. He shifted his stance to balance the weight of the wooden shield on his arm with the spear and bow and arrows he carried. His glance slid to a young man standing beside him, Ah K’in’ca. His friend stared down the road they would run along soon, apprehension momentarily showing on his face. “It will be a good journey,” Ah Bahlam said, as much for him as for his friend. “We will be safe.”

  Ah K’in’ca raised his shield. He spoke loud enough to cover the uncertainty in his eyes. “We will travel well.”

  They would. Their clothing, spears, shields, and helmets shone from the long peaceful season at Zama, which had been full of warm evenings with time to talk while their hands polished and mended their tools and dress. They would be an imposing sight.

  Three women stood in a bunch: Hun Kan, Nimah, and Kisa. All were from ruling families, all maidens, all sent here to prepare for noble sacrifice, or to become wives of important men; women with roles to play in the squabbling elite. But for now, they all looked beautiful and solemn as they stood watching the travel preparations.

  Five older men ranged back and forth along the slowly forming line, joking about returning to their families. Guards for families of the Lord of Itzá, they had accompanied the students from Chichén and would return with them.

  Ah Bahlam looked back at the temples of Zama, catching the exact moment the sun rose over the gray water and brought them to life for the new day. He would miss this moment, this crack between night and day that was far more beautiful here on the coast than inland. He offered a silent prayer to K’inich Ahaw . . . God of the sun . . . protect this place even while I and my spear leave it.

  Ah Bahlam understood Hun Kan’s tears about leaving Zama, but he would look ahead now, look toward seeing his father and toward the ceremonies of equinox. The ball game. He had dreamed all his life of this return to Chichén, to becoming part of the blood and heart of the powerful city.

  Cauac and the other teachers would surely appear soon and start the rites.

  He went and stood a small distance from Hun Kan, watching her. She wore a loose dress designed to allow free movement and, if she was needed, hand to hand fighting. Her dark hair had been caught up in a knot on top of her head. Wooden sticks with round jade beads held her hair in place. A wide strip of beaded leather wrapped around her wrist, covering the bright blue ornament she had received from the golden-haired girl, Ni-ixie. The single bead hung around her neck.

  She smiled at him, silent, ready, all traces of sadness gone or buried. Seeing her reminded him of the scent of their mingled blood, and copal, and the strength of the ceremony. He wanted to touch her. He returned her smile and went on, walking past her so her beauty wouldn’t distract him from being ready.

  The beginning of a journey mattered.

  The stars had all disappeared by the time the teachers lined up in front of the travelers. An apprentice, barely five summers old, carried a shell full of embers, herbs, and copal, fanning the smoke onto each of them with a serious and intent look. Cauac, Ah K’an, and K’ahtum followed the boy, blessing each warrior. When it was Ah Bahlam’s turn to stand in front of Cauac, he stood as straight as he could, held as much contr
ol as possible. He might never see the old man again. He looked into Cauac’s eyes and flinched at the unexpected worry he saw there. Had he dreamed more disturbing dreams? There was no time to ask.

  The other four teachers waited for the full shamans at the head of the line, until the seven made a long barrier in front of the travelers, forming the top of the World Tree.

  Dressed in bright red, green, and blue finery, all of them except for Cauac wore masks made of feathers, bone, shells, and wood. Their chests were adorned with necklaces to match, including jaguar teeth, puma and tapir teeth and bones, and even the small sharp teeth of vipers bleached harmless by three seasons of sun on top of the walls.

  The procession began to move, led by two of the seasoned warriors.

  As he passed Cauac for the last time, Ah Bahlam kept his face forward and looked to the path in front of him. It was time to know all that he learned in Zama and bend that knowledge to a safe journey, to watching for signs of bandits and people-of-unrest along the roadside, to keep his feet sure on the path and his spirit balanced with the jungle.

  With any luck, stories would return to Cauac to make him proud of his student.

  CHAPTER 16

  Nixie felt a hand on her shoulder, shaking her awake. She’d fallen asleep in the car. The car door was open, and her mom’s voice called her name from far away. She couldn’t tell what her mom’s face looked like since it had grown dark, and the only light came from above and behind her mom’s head. “Are we home?” Nix asked.

  “Yes. At the hotel. Come on, wake up and eat something. You need dinner.”

  “I’m not hungry.” She and Oriana had eaten empanadas and fried tortillas with sugar, and drank sweet orange sodas in little round glass bottles. She struggled out of the car, dragging her backpack after her.

  Her mom led the way up the steps, calling back, “I’m sorry you had to stay in town all day.”