“A very interesting topic indeed,” Mr. Gadner mused. “Human sacrifice is a gruesome thing. Why do you want to learn about a thing like that?”
I choked on my sandwich. Why? I had not expected him to care about the why.
“Well, Phil, there is a very old story in my family about an ancestor who was chosen to be a human sacrifice. I was telling the story to Arra here and she became curious about the culture.” His voice stayed surprisingly even as he spoke. I was still trying to swallow the lump of bread and turkey stuck in my throat. I took a deep sip of the tea, my eyes fixed on my grandpa. How could he talk about this so calmly? I wondered.
“There were many occasions for human sacrifice unfortunately,” Mr. Gadner said with a sad shake of his head. “Do you have a specific ceremony in mind, or a specific God? Different ceremonies and gods required different sacrifices and rights.”
I stared at him dumbly. How could we possibly know the exact ceremony or God involved? That was why we were here, to have him tell us what we needed to know. I realized that the dreams probably held some clues about why the ceremony was being performed, but I had no idea which details would be important. Perhaps the way Kivera’s face was painted, or the obsidian blade? I just didn’t know and spelling out the dreams would be a clear clue to the professor that something very strange was going on. I didn’t think I wanted to go that direction at the moment.
“The Day of Tlaloc, or the New Fire Ceremony,” my grandpa said. His voice was quieter than when he had spoken before, but the words froze my wandering thoughts immediately. I gaped at him. I thought he had told me everything he knew yesterday. Obviously he had been holding back a few important details. My grandpa avoided my questioning gaze.
Mr. Gadner appeared not to notice the change. “Wonderful,” he exclaimed, fully focused on my grandpa’s words. “Now I know where to begin.” He sprang from his chair and went immediately to a bookshelf. After only a second or two, he pulled a book from the shelf. Flipping through the pages as he walked back to his seat, he mumbled quietly to himself as he searched for the correct section.
“Ah, here we are. The Aztec Gods.” Settling back into his chair, he continued. “Tlaloc was the God of Rain. The Day of Tlaloc would have been on the summer solstice, June twenty-first.”
“That’s my birthday!” I gasped. Staring into my grandpa’s eyes, I shook my head. I had the distinct feeling that the date was not a coincidence. My grandpa visibly cringed at the mention of my birthday.
Mr. Gadner, however, noticed neither my outburst, nor his friend’s change in demeanor. “Some years the summer solstice falls on June twenty-second, but that hardly matters, I guess. How interesting that you should ask about this ceremony today. Tomorrow is June twenty-first, the summer solstice. Did you realize that?”
“Yes, actually,” my grandpa admitted. He squeezed my hand, trying to reassure me. It didn’t work. “What was the ceremony like?”
“The ceremony, yes. That would have been an interesting sight to behold, horrible no doubt, but still very interesting.” Mr. Gadner seemed to be lost in his thoughts.
“What happened to the victim?” I asked. What did he mean by horrible? My face was no doubt several shades paler than it had been and I was holding my hands tightly to keep them from shaking. Suddenly scared to hear what he was going to say, I reminded myself that I would see it all tonight anyway. Knowing would only help me prepare. I told myself that, but I didn’t really believe it.
“Well,” Gadner began, turning to me. He stopped when he saw my face. “Are you alright, dear?”
“I’m fine. Go ahead.”
“Are you sure? It’s not very pleasant,” he warned.
“Really, I’m fine.”
He nodded and continued. “Before the ceremony, the victim, almost always a child, would be cleansed and adorned in ceremonial clothing, most likely a simple white shift, symbolizing purity. Then the victim would ascend the steps of the temple in Tenochtitlan to where the ceremony would take place. The victim would then be stretched across the altar and the victim’s heart would be cut out while they were still alive.” Gadner paused, looking at me again.
I kept myself composed as best I could. It must have been good enough, because the professor went on.
“The heart is still beating as it is thrown into a sacrificial fire. Now the New Fire Ceremony you mentioned is very similar to the Day of Tlaloc, but a little more complicated.” He thumbed through the pages of his book, looking for something specific. After finding the information he needed, Mr. Gadner laid the book on the coffee table, turning it so Arra and her grandfather could see it clearly.
“The Aztecs used two calendars, a three hundred sixty-five day calendar, and a religious calendar of two hundred sixty days. The two “years” would end on the same day, June twenty-first, every fifty-two years. On this day the sacrificial fire would be put out and a new fire, hence the name, is lit as a sign of cleansing. The new fire is lit in the chest cavity of the human sacrifice, while they are alive, burning the heart.”
He paused glancing at me once again. The green tinge to my skin and the panic in my eyes simply made him shrug his shoulders. “I’m sorry, dear. I told you it was unpleasant.”
“It’s alright, Mr. Gadner. I wanted to know.” I shivered and tried to shake off the sickening feeling spreading through my body. My grandpa had said “or” when he mentioned the two ceremonies, but I had a sinking feeling that Kivera had been involved in both. Fire and blood awaited me as well. “Is there any way that someone could get out of being sacrificed once they were chosen?”
“Absolutely not,” Mr. Gadner said. “Once a victim was chosen, the decision could not be changed, for any reason. The Aztecs were very superstitious. They believed it was an honor to be sacrificed. To offer a sacrifice and then deny the god his promised feast would mean years of suffering. At least that’s what they believed.” He laughed at the absurdity of such belief. I couldn’t even pretend to smile.
Mr. Gadner continued throwing out tidbits about Aztec culture and theology, but I wasn’t really listening and it didn’t look like my grandpa was either. My grandpa finally broke through his friend’s chatter to suggest that I might need some fresh air. I thanked him with a quick look for his thoughtfulness. The antique house had gone from charming to cloying during Mr. Gadner’s account. The gory details of the ceremony mixed with the stuffiness of the room were quickly making my stomach unstable. I wanted to get out into the sun as quickly as possible.
“Of course, of course. I do tend to get carried away when I start taking about history.” He led us back to the front door with only a few more random comments. “Are we still on for chess next Tuesday?” he asked casually.
“You bet,” my grandpa said halfheartedly. “I’ll see you Tuesday.”
Hurriedly I made my escape before Mr. Gadner thought of something else to say. Taking a deep breath, I closed my mind off just for a second. The fresh air did help. Breathing it in deeply, I tried to calm my queasy stomach and nerves. My grandpa led me away from the professor’s house. After a few short blocks he stepped off the sidewalk and led me to a small park. It was thankfully empty. My grandpa’s arm settled across my shoulders, pulling me against his chest.
“Are you okay, honey?” he asked.
“No, not really, grandpa,” I snapped, letting my anger and fear slip into my voice unexpectedly. The harsh sound surprised her, but she did not let up. “I’m going to be sacrificed to some crazy Aztec god. Tomorrow! How am I supposed to feel about that? I’m terrified.”
My grandpa wrapped me in a silent hug. He smelled like hot chocolate. The comforting scent took a little of the edge off my anger, but only a little. My grandpa probably wanted to tell me that it would be okay, that we would find a way to save me in time, but his open mouth could not utter the words. I knew he would give up his own life to save mine, but he knew he had no say in the matter. The ancient god would claim me and there was nothing he could do about it. Tears flo
wed freely down his face.
“I hate her,” I said, my voice muffled by my grandpa’s shirt. “I hate her!” I repeated, this time more vehemently. “All of this is happening because one selfish girl wouldn’t just die! How could she do this? I hate her!”
“Arra,” my grandpa said. His voice was stern. “She was asked to be a human sacrifice! How could anyone walk into that willingly?”
Pushing away from my grandpa as if he had just turned to fire, I glared at him fiercely. He had been the one to get upset when I presented my theory that helping Kivera might save my own life. How could he judge my behavior now? “You’re siding with her? Are you really that willing to watch another family member die? To stand by and accept what fate has in store for me?”
“Of course not,” he said. “I will do anything to protect you. I just meant that she must have been incredibly scared and foolish. Not everyone has your strength, Arra. You shouldn’t judge her when you have no idea what she went through. It’s not fair.”
“But how could she do this? Given the choice of dying yourself or dooming your posterity to a fate you can’t even face, how could she choose herself? Every daughter that has died was murdered because of her. She might as well have done it herself.” I leaned back against my grandpa’s shoulder. “How could she do that?” The softness in my words reflected the defeated thoughts running through my head.
I had listened to Mr. Gadner’s horrifying description, hoping for some kind of clue, some way to save myself, but nothing. He said there was no way out, no way to escape the fire. There was no hope any more. Not for me, at least. “How could she do this to me?” I whispered.
“I don’t know,” my grandpa said. His voice was a barely audible sigh. “We’ll know soon enough, though.” I stared at him, wondering exactly what he meant.
Chapter Nineteen
The walk was torturously long and quiet. Neither of us seemed to be able to think of anything comforting to say, so we both held our misery inside. My mom had stared at us when we arrived at back at my house, eyeing us carefully. We hardly looked like we’d had an enjoyable morning together. When she asked if something was wrong, I nearly lost my composure and started bawling right there on the doorstep. My grandpa handled the question much better thankfully.
“No, no, Judy. We went for a walk and ended up going a little too far. I think we’re both just a little worn out.” He lied surprisingly well.
“Well, why don’t you stay for dinner then, Alden. Henry will be home in a few hours,” she said.
My grandpa glanced at me and nodded his acceptance quickly. I sighed. He didn’t want to leave me alone, but I couldn’t stand sitting around staring at him all afternoon, not when he knew the truth.
“I think I’ll go take a nap,” I said. I somehow managed a faint smile at my mom. “I’m beat.”
“That sounds like a good idea, honey. I’ll wake you for dinner.”
“Thanks, Mom.”
I kicked off my shoes next to the door before starting for my bedroom. I didn’t know if the dream would come during the daytime, but what did it matter if it did come? I knew what would come next. There was no denying it now. I just wished I could have seen my brother one last time. I would miss his smile and endless pranks. He never failed to lighten any situation.
Thoughts of David enjoying his college life, unaware that fate had somehow claimed me for its own, filled my mind. Exhaustion swept over me. Sleep was all I wanted, dreams or no.
“Oh, Arra,” my mom said handing me a slip of paper “Tanner called this morning. He wanted you to call him back.”
I briefly wondered how he had gotten my phone number, since it was not in the phone book yet, but I supposed that the mom network that seemed to exist no matter where you lived had taken care of that pretty quickly. I was certain my mom had something to do with it. Thankful to have a phone jack in my new room, I retreated to my bedroom. I quickly dialed the number and waited.
On the third ring a hesitant voice answered, “Hello?”
“Tanner? This is Arra,” I said. “My mom said you called.”
“Yeah, I did. Um, thanks for calling back.”
Silence.
“Did you call just to say hi, or, uh…was there something else,” I said. Fatigue was overriding my manners. Realizing how rude that must have sounded, I quickly added, “I had a lot of fun yesterday.”
“Did you?” he asked. “I wasn’t sure. You seemed kind of upset when we were eating.”
I winced. I had never been any good at hiding my feelings from others. Last night had obviously been no exception. I wondered if this was the last time I would speak to Tanner. That really didn’t help me come up with any words to soothe him. “I’m sorry, Tanner. I didn’t mean to be such an awful date.”
“You weren’t awful, you were great,” he said. “It’s that that sometimes you seemed kind of sad or something. I hope it wasn’t anything I said or did yesterday.”
“No, of course not, Tanner. It’s just that the move has been kind of rough, I guess,” I said.
“Yeah, I bet. I can imagine it’s been kind of a shock after what you were used to in Manhattan,” Tanner said. “I’m glad you’re here at least.”
“Thanks, Tanner. I’m actually glad I’m here too,” I said and meant it.
“Then what is it?” he asked.
What could I possibly tell him that would actually make sense. “It’s just some family stuff. Things have been a little tense for me this past week.” It was so much more, but how could I tell him any more than that? I wanted to. I did not want to leave our short relationship at a phone call. Sitting under the moonlight wrapped in his arms would be a much better way to say goodbye. I wanted that moment.
“Hey, Tanner,” I said. My voice sounded shaky and strange to my ears. Hopefully Tanner didn’t hear it as well.
“Yeah?”
“You know the park down the street from my house?”
“Sure.”
I couldn’t believe I was about to say this. “Would you meet me at the park tonight? I just need to get out of the house and maybe talk for a little while.”
He didn’t say anything for a few seconds and I panicked. What was he thinking?
“What time?” he asked.
I breathed in a sigh of relief. “Nine o’clock?” I could definitely convince my parents I was going to sleep by then. I didn’t even have to fake being tired.
“Sure, Arra, no problem,” Tanner said.
“Thanks, Tanner. I’ll see you tonight then,” I said.
“See you tonight.” I waited for the inevitable dial tone before releasing my grip on the receiver and dropping it back onto the base. My last ounce of strength seemed to evaporate as soon as the phone left my fingers. I could hardly believe he agreed to meet me. I had barely known him for two days and I had asked him to meet me at a park after dark.
Although thoughts of sitting next to Tanner at night were dancing in my head, I was not worried that he mistook my invitation for anything other than a chance to get away from my house for a few hours with a friend. Tanner was sweet and sincere. I felt safe and happy with him near me. I needed to feel that way again, even if it only lasted a few hours.
Planning to sneak out did leave me feeling a little guilty. If I just asked, my parents would think about it and play the overly concerned parents for a while, but given that the park was less than a hundred feet from my house and my dad could probably stand on the front porch and watch us if he really wanted to, I was sure they would agree. The fact that my dad could watch us was the biggest factor for sneaking out. David may be in college, but my dad was hardly ready to see me grow up. No, letting them believe I was in bed was the best way to go. I needed some time away from any reminders about what tomorrow would bring.
In Tanner’s arms I could pretend that I would see him again the next day and that he would actually pick me up Saturday night to go to the bonfire on the beach. With him, I could pretend everything was fine for one
more night.
Pulling a thin blanket over my shoulders, I drifted into a dreamless sleep. It only lasted a few hours, but it was a welcome break all the same. The timid knock at my door barely registered in my weary mind. The knock came again, a little stronger. I stirred, but did not answer right away.
“Arra, honey, wake up. It’s time for dinner,” my mom pressed.
“I’m not hungry,” I complained. My head was groggy and I could not seem to get my eyes to open all the way. Wondering how long it had been since I had gotten a good night’s sleep, I shoved my face deeper into the pillow. How many nights since the dreams started? I didn’t want to count anymore. I didn’t want to think about dreaming or photos or anything remotely connected to my bizarre heritage.
“Arra, get up,” my mom said a little more harshly. “Everyone is waiting on you.”
“Fine,” I said, tossing the blankets back.
“If you would sleep and eat properly, you wouldn’t be so tired all the time,” my mom muttered under her breath as she backed away from the door.
“If only that was all I needed,” I whispered. Trudging from the hazy room, the brightness of the kitchen and its heady aromas filled me. Pot roast with brown gravy and homemade mashed potatoes. One of my absolute favorites. My mom must still be pretty worried about me. At least she would believe me when I told her I wanted to go to bed early after dinner. She would probably want to tuck me in herself. I stepped into the kitchen and green beans smothered in butter and garlic pushed a little more of my sleepiness away. My mom was a wonderful cook. I would miss her cooking immensely.
“Well hello, sunshine,” my dad teased. “Did you two have a nice day together?”
I nodded a little too enthusiastically as I tried to look sincere.
“We had a nice walk,” my grandpa said.
My mom quickly served everyone and the meal began. There was little talking at first, for which I was very grateful. As the plates emptied though, the chatter sprang back to life. A playful grin spread across my dad’s face and I almost groaned. What now, I wondered.
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