by Allen, Jewel
Marcus smirked. “No pressure, huh?”
Katy shook her head.
Several minutes later, they were in the thick of making the nativity pieces. Katy put the finishing touches on Mary and looked up. She caught Marcus staring at her. Immediately, he lowered his gaze, busying himself with Joseph.
Katy smiled to herself, a warmth spreading in her chest.
Mama Muni’s children helped too, but they were easily distracted, until they got to two sheets of plywood, which would be the mural painting behind the nativity scene. They fought over who got to apply the first brush stroke of blue paint. The younger of the two, Filipo, got his way
“She wants a beautiful mountain scene at twilight,” Katy translated.
“Easy peasy,” Marcus said, rolling his shirtsleeves up. “Allow me.”
Katy glanced at his biceps and looked away. It was hot in the house all of a sudden.
With broad strokes, Marcus painted a midnight-blue background. Katy worked alongside him and the children, painting stars, trees, and green touches on the mountain range. One of the children painted a shooting star. Their contributions were simple…and couldn’t have been more perfect.
When it was all done, they stepped back to admire it.
Marcus glanced over at Katy. “You have paint on your nose,” he said.
She touched her nose.
He laughed. “You got more on it.” Grabbing a rag, he came over.
She held her breath as he wiped her nose gently, in rhythmic strokes.
Their eyes met, and a banked fire glowed in his.
“Thanks,” she said, her cheeks warming. The expression in his eyes made her squirm and flattered at the same time. All her life, she’d been used to being in the background. He made her feel as if she was in the spotlight.
Then, as quickly as it flared, the light in his eyes dimmed. He stepped back and cleared his throat.
“You’re welcome,” came his formal reply. He looked around at the mess. “What next?”
“After clean-up?” Katy glanced outside. “Let’s catch a posada.”
***
MARCUS
That was a close call.
After cleaning the paint off her nose, Marcus had wanted to kiss Katy. She had looked so adorable.
Heaven help him, but Katy was proving to be such a distraction. He wasn’t looking to date anyone, thank you. Especially one of his charity contestants. Their entry needed to stand on its own merit.
He shook his head. Would you listen to your stuck-up rules made on the fly?
Marcus fell back as he followed Katy down the streets of Antigua in search of this posada. Soon, Marcus discovered it was found not only by sight but by sound.
Amplified by a speaker, a man sang along with a choir of children. People carried statues of Joseph and Mary on a platform, lit up like the Walmart blue-light special. They swayed as their bearers walked them down the street, surrounded by a sea of celebrants.
Katy was up ahead, glancing back at him. She waited until he could get caught up, standing directly behind her. They couldn’t move, not with the throng crowding them. When someone jostled, he put out an arm instinctively to protect her. He ended up standing right behind her, her back warm against his chest.
In the dark, the sensation was tantalizing.
Unfortunately, it was time to move on.
“They’re going to three houses,” Katy explained.
The first house had a Nativity scene with a garland of colorful beads and a yellow church as a backdrop. Mary and Joseph were dolls, dressed in native Guatemalan costume. The house owners laid a buffet for the procession-goers: tamales, steamed corn pouches called chuchitos, fruit punch, white milky horchata, and crunchy cylinder pastries called barquillos.
They moved on to two more houses, each procession growing larger as the night progressed.
“They are singing from a prepared script,” Katy said. It was all in Spanish, so Marcus couldn’t follow too close, but he caught a word here and there that sounded familiar.
At the last house, everyone took their time dispersing. The streets were still clogged when Katy and Marcus left.
Boom. Someone shot a piddly little rocket into the sky. More firework explosions followed.
“What do you think of Guatemala-style Christmas?” Katy asked Marcus before they parted at her homestay.
Marcus shrugged, determined to not sound too eager. “It’s interesting. ”
“Volcanoes more your style?” Katy said.
“Sure.”
“Good.” Her eyes danced. “We’re going to roast hotdogs over a volcano.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
KATY
December 16
Once they got out of the van at La Soledad and faced their co-campers to the summit of Acatenango, Katy could tell Marcus was less than on board.
“It’s the Colorado climbing man,” Marcus said, groaning at the sight of a fellow passenger.
“Greg, I think, is his name.”
“Didn’t he already try to ditch us because of altitude sickness? I’m not hiking downwind of him.”
“Hush,” Katy said, but she shared in the quiet laugh.
“Well, hello,” Greg said, his cheeks reddening.
“Did you bring your oxygen tank this time?” Marcus asked with a straight face.
Greg’s eyes flashed. “That was an aberration,” he said.
“Good luck, man. I hope your affairs are in order.”
Later, in private, Katy asked Marcus, “Why are you so mean to him?”
“He’s a pompous fool. Besides, someone has to be. I know you won’t.”
“Of course I won’t,” she protested. “It would be rude.””
“Katy Stevens,” he said in his deep voice, making her shiver with pleasure. “One of these days, I’m going to corrupt you. I’ll make you speed five above the limit. Have you take one of those ‘postal mail’ baskets from the post office and use it as a laundry basket. Put up a campaign sign on a public right-of-way.”
“Ha,” she said. “If I turn politician, that’s the ultimate corruption.”” She lifted her chin. “Very well. I will, in turn, reform you.”
He raised an eyebrow. “What does that look like?”
“You will call your mother every night, and not just to inquire about your trust fund. Kiss a pig for a kindergarten fundraiser. Help the lunch ladies serve breakfast.”
“Why breakfast?”
“Because you have to get up earlier in the morning.”
“Ah, yes. That would be saintly. Giving a million dollars comes close, though?”
She shrugged, stifling a smile.
They had two guides leading them up the mountain. Greg hiked alongside them, asking lots of questions.
Marcus rolled his eyes and whispered to Katy, “He reminds me of this kid in my third-grade class who always asked questions, even after the bell rang.”
“It’s good to ask questions. That’s the only way to learn.”
“It’s a way to take up air. Hey, what is that?” He pointed at a coiled pile at the base of a tree.
“A snake!” Katy screamed. She lunged away from it and into Marcus’s arms.
Marcus held her tightly.
She became aware of his nearness and her heart revving up wildly. “Sorry,” she said, pushing off him.
“That was no problem at all,” he murmured, as he set her back on the ground.
Greg snickered. “There’s more of that where we’re going.”
“Actually, there isn’t,” Rico, one of the guides, said.
“Thank goodness,” Marcus said.
“Scared of snakes, are you?” Greg ribbed Marcus.
“I don’t mind them,” Marcus said. “I’’m happy to carry Katy anytime…”
Her cheeks warmed.
“…as long as I have earplugs.”
Greg snickered. as Katy gaped at him. She narrowed her eyes. The smart aleck.
Katy backed away as Marc
us picked up a stick and flipped the snake into the bush. Or at least tried to. The snake landed by Greg’s feet instead.
Greg’s screams echoed in the clearing.
“Oof. He screams louder than you.” Marcus glanced at Katy, whose cheeks warmed with embarrassment. “You know I was teasing you, right?”
“Ye-ess,” Katy stammered.
Marcus grabbed her hand, surprising her. “Did I offend you?”
“No,” she said, unable to think straight with her hand in his. “I was just surprised you’d say something…”
“Mean?”
She nodded.
He reached out and touched her cheek, and her breath stilled.
“You are so soft-hearted, Katy.”
She couldn’t speak. His hazel eyes bore into hers gently, making her all woozy inside. She felt breathless, and she was sure it wasn’t just from the high altitude.
“The question is, what will we do with Mr. Know-it-all over here?” His glance flicked toward Greg.
“We’ll be nice to him and…and carry him down on a stretcher when it comes time.”
Marcus’s eyes glimmered. “See?” he said. “You’re catching on.”
***
MARCUS
No wonder they told them to dress in layers. Even at the outset, the temperatures cooled. Rico said Acatenango was a tough slog, but they eased into it in stages. First, they passed farm fields, barren acreage that normally would have corn, snow pea, or lily.
Next, they hiked through forest.
“Here you will find some of the oldest trees in Guatemala,” Rico said. “Do you hear that? That is the Violet Sabrewing, and that is the Hairy Woodpecker. This is the home of the Resplendent Quetzal. If we are lucky, we may find it.”
Katy’s eyes glittered as she scoured the canopy above.
Marcus glanced around too. Normally, he wasn’t a big fan of birdwatching; it was too slow for his taste. But if he knew to look for something, he could be patient.
Just as they were about to go on to the next part of the hike, the guide put up his hand. “Listen.”
A bird called. It was a gentle sound, distressed. Like your mom calling if you were due home for dinner determined to get you home yet reluctant to have such a wild bunch indoors. Especially if everyone’s crusted with mud.
“Wait, everyone hold your breath. I’m recording it.” Greg said while holding out his cell phone that was connected to a mini-microphone.
No one followed his advice. As far as Marcus could tell, everyone was still breathing, and no one had passed out. Greg wasn’t worth uncalled for death and dismemberment.
While they listened, the Quetzal, with its bright green and red plumage, flew past. Marcus tried to take a photo on his phone, but the bird was too quick for him. It was pretty cool to say he’d seen one.
After the guide finally convinced Greg to move on, they next came to an overlook of all the volcanoes in the area, all with such difficult names that if they were siblings in a family, the parents would probably resort to numbering their children. Atitlan was one, Toliman, San Pedro…and a mountain chain with a mouthful for a name.
Of course, Katy, being Katy, said it in one swoop like it was poetry: “Cuchumatanes.”
She could have said it all day, and he would’ve followed her around the world, hypnotized.
“Uh-huh.” Marcus nodded. “I bet you were one of those spelling bee contestants in junior high.”
“I didn’t say I could spell it.”
“We’ll set up camp here,” Rico said. “Everyone grab a tent and set it up.”
While the guides made dinner, the hikers gathered around a campfire. Katy got everyone talking about themselves, where they were from, and where else they’d traveled in the world. All they needed was to hold hands and sing “Kumbayah.”
Even as this crossed his mind, he thought Katy was a lot like the sunset they were privy to again, casting light in the darkness.
Speaking of songs, someone started a carol, and pretty soon, everyone was singing in their language. Everyone except for Marcus.
He stood and bolted to the edge of camp, stuffing his hands in his coat pockets.
“Hey,” came Katy’s soft voice. “You okay?”
He didn’t look at her. “Sure.”
“Are you having fun so far?”
He relaxed his posture. She was trying so hard. “Sure.”
“This had been on my bucket list.”
“Glad I can scratch it off mine too. If only we didn’t have to endure that Greg.”
She wrinkled her nose. “I think Greg’s kind of funny, but interesting.”
“Yeah.” Marcus sighed. “He grows on you. Like fungus.”
Katy rolled her eyes.
“What,” Marcus teased. “No scolding?”
“I only scold if he’s within hearing.”
“What, so he’ll think more highly of you?”
“No,” she paused. “So he’ll think more highly of himself.”
Marcus noted her earnest expression. “Did you ever want to be a psychiatrist? Because I think you’d be good at it.”
“No.” She crinkled her nose. “I do love reading the magazine Psychology, but I think I would burn out so fast.”
“Maybe.” He thought back to his darkest days after the accident. All that bitterness and hatred he’d spewed out. “Psychiatrists probably feel like sewer ponds sometimes.”
Katy flinched. “Yeah. I can see that. Anyway, I’m gonna head back.”
“Hey,” he said.
She turned, her expression soft. Affectionate.
“Thank you.”
She didn’t ask why or what for. “You’re welcome.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
MARCUS
December 17
The next morning, everyone got ready at sunup to make one last ascent to the summit. Katy looked adorable with her hair mussed and stuffed in a knit cap. Even that early in the day, she still had a smile on her face.
In the corner, Greg was doing yoga or something. It involved balancing his leg out and spreading his arms.
“This is Tai-chi,” Greg said, his eyes closed.
Marcus looked around. Apparently, he was talking to him.
“That was my guess,” Katy said.
They ate a quick breakfast of granola bars and jerky. Greg ate his standing up. He kept poor Rico so busy answering questions that the man didn’t get a chance to eat.
When they came through a pine forest next, Marcus commented, “If someone wanted to film different parts of the world, they should come to Guatemala.”
“I’m an amateur filmmaker,” Greg said.
“Why am I not surprised?” Marcus deadpanned.
Katy’s elbow nudged him.
Greg nodded. “I’m already thinking of filming my next movie here.”
“Oh?” Katy said. “What will it be about?”
Greg, probably excited that someone was listening to him, said, “It’s a billionaire romance with heart. The billionaire will come to Guatemala and fall in love with a native.”
“Billionaires and heart,” Marcus guffawed. “What an oxymoron.”
Greg’s nostrils flared. “I happen to know of many charitable philanthropists.”
“I don’t run in those circles,” Marcus said, shrugging with regret. “I will have to take your word for it.”
“You’re incorrigible,” Katy whispered to Marcus.
“I know what that means,” Marcus said. “Even if I don’t know how to spell it.”
“I don’t think I know either.” Katy giggled. “We’’re even.”
As the wind started to pick up, Marcus looked over at Katy, whose teeth had begun to chatter. He stood windward from her.
“I’ll be your windbreak,” he offered.
“Th-thank you,” she said.
She smiled at him, making him light-headed.
Marcus shook his head to clear it.
He concentrated on his surroundings. I
t was all rock in this final phase, as though a dragon came through and burned the place down. There were smaller pines and moss but hardly anything else.
Beside him, Katy panted as she walked over the rocky terrain. She looked at Marcus, glaze-eyed.
He put an arm around her shoulders. “You got this.”
“It’s not fair,” Katy said. “You look like you haven’’t been hiking for hours.”
“Well, you look like…”
“What?” she asked.
Like a wild beauty with the wind swirling around your hair.
“Like a model for one of those outdoor catalogs,” he said.
“Wow. Thanks.” She expelled a breath. “I don’t feel it.”
“Let me tell you a secret.” He pressed his mouth to her ear and cupped his hand. “At my last doctor’s visit, he told me I would outlive his pet tortoise. He said my pulse is low. Which was good.”
His supposedly low pulse raced at the lingering look she gave him before moving away.
Greg was struggling too. His mouth opened and closed like a beached fish. Marcus pitied him.
“Hey, man, you okay?” Marcus asked.
“Oh, yeah, sure, sure,” Greg said, clutching at his chest.
“I would keep an eye on him,” Marcus told Rico. “He looks about ready to pass out.”
On to the summit, everyone was quiet. Mercifully, even Greg.
With a surge of energy, Katy and Marcus powered onto the remaining feet. On top of the world. All around, he could see craters of volcanoes. Like God had dropped bowling balls all over the place and just recently, because the craters were still smoking.
“Beautiful,” Katy breathed.
Marcus studied her profile. “Agreed.”
Then he turned to the landscape. This country was an amazing place. The Guatemalans were a lucky people. Just like he was feeling right now. He wanted to shout and dance.
Well, maybe at least shout.
“Whoo-hoo!” he shouted at the top of his lungs.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
KATY
Back in Antigua, Katy got out of the van and was surprised to see Marcus following her out.