by Eric Walters
“I have a few ideas. How about if you and I talk more about this in private?” Grandpa said.
Alejandra and I sat in silence until they left the room.
“Thank you for defending me,” Alejandra said.
“I didn’t think it was fair to blame just you.”
“I meant for defending me out there in the jungle and on the river. You were always there to try to protect me.”
“I sort of remember that you were the one with the gun.”
“You were brave even when you did not have a gun. You were there to protect me,” she replied.
“I helped protect you from kidnappers who didn’t exist,” I said.
“And caimans, rapids and a jaguar. Those were real.”
“We were taking care of each other.” I paused. “What do you think our grandfathers are going to do to us?”
“I am not sure, but I know what I am going to do.”
She stood up and walked over to my side of the table. She bent down and gave me a kiss. My first kiss. A real kiss right on the lips. And I kissed her back. Somehow all of this seemed worth it no matter how they decided to punish us.
FOURTEEN
I hummed along as Sinatra played in the background and the engines of the plane buzzed in the foreground.
“How long before we land?” I asked.
“Less than an hour. I’m so sad it’s almost over.”
“Me too. It was an incredible week. Even the parts that weren’t.”
“Often the best moments in life are the ones we didn’t expect,” he said.
“I didn’t expect any of it,” I said. “I didn’t expect that we’d be punished by going zip-lining and parasailing and snorkeling and hiking the volcanoes and playing with monkeys and sailing and riding Sea-Doos.”
“We were never going to punish you. Juan was just very worried.”
“And you weren’t?” I asked.
“Of course I was worried, but I figured you’d take care of the situation one way or another. That’s who you are.”
I wanted to tell him he had more faith in me than I deserved, but I really liked his thinking about me that way.
It had been a great week with Grandpa and Alejandra and her grandfather. She was full of fun and excitement and adventure. She could have flashes of anger, but I had worked hard to keep her happy. That was partly because I liked to make her happy—her smile was so much better than her scowl.
“Could I ask you a question?” I said.
“You can ask me anything, and you know I’ll answer it.”
I’d been thinking about this a lot, and I’d figured out how to phrase it.
“Alejandra said that there are rumors about her grandfather,” I said.
“You can’t believe everything you hear. What exactly were the rumors?”
“That he was a smuggler,” I said.
“Oh, in that case, I’m sure the rumors about him are true.”
“Really?”
“You have to understand that the borders between the countries down there have always been pretty…shall we say, fluid, especially decades ago, so people often moved things from one country to another without going through official channels.”
“What sort of things?” I asked. Was he going to say drugs or weapons?
“It could have been almost anything. There are things in Juan’s past that I don’t ask about and he doesn’t tell.”
“Did you ever do any of that?”
“Smuggling?”
I nodded.
“I’ve brought a few bottles of fine whiskey across a border or two in my time…you know, for personal use. Juan and his father owned a coffee plantation, and I arranged for a whole lot of their coffee to be exported.”
“But there was nothing else, right?” I asked.
“DJ, do you really need to ask?”
I shook my head.
“I could never do anything like that. I’m not a very good liar. Your grandmother always said she could tell when I was up to something because she could see it on my face.”
I knew what he was telling me was the truth because he never did lie. Never. He was completely honest and honorable.
“Of course, there was one occasion when I did spend a night in a jail down there,” he said.
“You did!”
“Nothing serious, but there were a couple of misadventures I got into myself because of Alejandra’s grandmother.”
“You and her and Juan?”
“Well…this is before I met Juan. Before she met him.” He paused. “He doesn’t know that we knew each other before, and it’s probably best if you keep that fact under your hat.”
“Of course.”
“I know I can count on you to keep that secret.” He paused again. “I’m also wondering if some of what happened during this week should also be just between you and me.”
“What parts?” I asked.
“I don’t think we should mention to your mother that I went parasailing or zip-lining. You know how she worries about me being too old.”
“Probably best for her not to find out about that,” I agreed. That, of course, meant not telling my brother Steve or any of my cousins either.
“I was also wondering about not talking about your misadventures with Alejandra.”
“Which parts?” I asked.
“I was thinking all parts. I can’t even imagine how your mother would react if she found out the two of you were trekking through the jungle and traveling on rivers filled with caimans and rapids.”
“I wasn’t looking forward to her finding out about that.”
“And it’s not just that she would be angry or worried, but how all of my daughters, all of your aunts, would react. If they found out what happened on this trip, they might just decide not to let your brother or cousins go on their trips with me.”
“I hadn’t even thought of that.” It would be awful if I blew it for Steve and the others.
“I know it feels wrong to keep things from your mother, but I think it just might be the best thing. What do you think?”
I didn’t have to think. “I agree completely.”
He reached out a hand, and we shook. “Then it’s agreed. What happened in Central America stays in Central America.”
“I’m happy that what happened to me won’t stop you from going on an adventure with Steve and all my cousins.”
“There are going to be lots of adventures ahead. And just so you know, this isn’t going to be the last adventure you and I are going to share,” he said.
“It isn’t?”
“Guaranteed. I have at least one more special adventure for you up my sleeve.”
That made me smile, because if my grandfather said it was going to happen, then it was going to happen. This adventure was almost over, but there was at least one more still to come.
So much of this one had to be kept secret, although it would have been amazing to tell Steve about it. But he’d never know. I guessed that was okay, because I didn’t want him to know what an idiot I had been, getting swept up in so much that wasn’t real.
I would tell him some things about my adventures. I’d start by telling him about that leap into the water. And end by telling him about that kiss. In some ways, that was an even more exciting plunge.
I thought back to Grandpa saying there was at least one more adventure yet to come. Of course, I didn’t know what it would be, but I knew my grandpa well enough to know it was going to be something amazing.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
This book—all of the prequels to the Seven series—were inspired by a simple question from Robin Tameshtit: “Have you ever thought of writing prequels?” Great thanks to Robin for being the spark to this series.
ERIC WALTERS is the author of 102 books. They have been translated into thirteen languages and won over 125 awards—in Canada and internationally—including fourteen Children’s Choice awards. Often, Eric goes to the places where his stories are set, and he sp
ent time hiking the jungles of Central America and flying in small planes—the things done by DJ, his main character in this book. Eric admits that he identifies far too much with this character. When not writing and presenting, Eric devotes time to his children’s program in Kenya—Creation of Hope (www.creationofhope.com). For more information, visit Eric’s website www.ericwalters.net. Jungle Land is the prequel to Between Heaven and Earth, Eric’s novel in Seven (the series).
SEE WHERE DJ GOES NEXT IN AN EXCERPT FROM BETWEEN HEAVEN AND EARTH FROM SEVEN (THE SERIES).
The room was large and lavish, with dark oak paneling. A big mahogany desk dominated the room; overstuffed leather chairs and couches encircled it. I’d never been in a lawyer’s office before. But then again, prior to a few days ago, I’d never been in a funeral home or attended a funeral either.
There were twelve of us in the room—me, my mother, my brother Steve, my mother’s three sisters and two of my uncles, and my four cousins, Adam, Webb, Spencer and Bernard, who insisted on being called Bunny. These were the eleven people in the world who meant the most to me. The only person missing was the reason we were here—my grandpa. A shudder radiated through my entire body. I hoped nobody saw it. My mother reached out and placed her hand on mine.
“It’s all right, DJ,” she said softly.
Her eyes were so red from crying. I knew how much she was going to miss him. I knew how much we were all going to miss him. I just couldn’t afford to shed tears. Somebody had to be in control. That was my job.
His death had been hard on everybody, but maybe the hardest on my mother. I’d heard my Aunt Vicky talking about how we must be “reliving” my father’s death. I thought that was a funny choice of words—how could a death be relived?—but I understood what she meant. That didn’t mean I agreed with her, just that I understood. My father had been gone for so long, since I was really little, that I hadn’t even been part of all of that. No funeral home, no visitation, no cemetery, no burial memories. I couldn’t relive what I hadn’t lived.
With my mother’s whispered reassurance over, the room became completely silent again. It was almost as if all the oxygen had been sucked out of the room. Then again, since nobody seemed to be breathing, it wasn’t like we needed air. We all just sat there, in silence, waiting for the lawyer to arrive. I didn’t know what was in the will, and I didn’t care what Grandpa was leaving me, because he’d already left so many memories. But it was a term of his will that we all needed to be there, so we had no choice. It would have been disrespectful for us not to come.
Of course that hadn’t stopped my brother from trying to get out of it. Typical. If it wasn’t his idea, he didn’t want any part of it. Mom had finally convinced him. If she hadn’t, I would have convinced him in a whole different way. Steve could be such a jerk sometimes. It was hard to believe that twins could be so different, but we rarely saw things the same way.