by Kathy Macias
Home. I’ve only been gone a few weeks, but it seems longer. It’s like being transported into a different world—certainly a different time. Since being here I’ve been able to access the Internet and check email exactly five times, and that only briefly, I haven’t a clue what’s going on in the rest of the world.
She smiled, hugging her cup between her hands. Maybe that’s not such a bad thing. Working with the children keeps me busy, and I enjoy the overall slower pace, even if much of what we do and experience here seems so primitive. But is that such a bad thing?
Her mind wandered to Marina, no doubt her star pupil. The child was not only eager to learn but also to please. She had a quick mind and a humble heart, as well as a lovely face. How could anyone not love her?
The thought that she’d had to spend much of her childhood without a mother tugged at Julia’s heartstrings. All three of Padre Ramon’s children had lost their mother, but the older two had her much longer than little Marina.
Her thoughts turned then to her own children. Tyler and Brittney still missed their father dearly, but like the padre’s two older children, they hadn’t been little when he died. Julia couldn’t imagine not having her own parents there for her throughout her earliest years.
Mom and Dad. The two of you can be more than a little interfering at times, but I never doubted that you loved me. Something tells me Padre Ramon’s children have that same confidence in their father as well.
The occasional call of a monkey, somewhere out in the treetops, suddenly turned to a cacophony of cries, and Julia peered out her window. She could see nothing of the nearby animals but imagined they were embroiled in some sort of squabble over food or pecking rights.
As suddenly as the argument had started, it stopped. The sounds of the forest were beginning to seem normal to Julia, though the strange noises during her first few nights in the compound had caused her to wonder if she’d ever get a good night’s sleep in the place.
She’d stopped worrying about that now. Not only had she begun to sleep peacefully through the night, but she was adapting to regular afternoon siestas as well, at least on the days when she wasn’t teaching. On school days she spent that after lunch time working on papers and trying to interact with the children, who played jump rope and other simple outdoor games.
Taking another sip of coffee, she realized she couldn’t remember when she’d last felt so rested.
THE DOORBELL RANG, pulling Marie away from the ironing she was doing in her sunny kitchen. She frowned. John had left more than an hour earlier to play his usual Saturday morning round of golf, and Marie wasn’t expecting anyone.
She placed the iron upright on the board and headed for the front door. Her heart warmed and she smiled when she pulled the door open and found her friend Ginny Morales standing on the front porch.
“Ginny, what a nice surprise!” She ushered her inside, taking her blue windbreaker from her in the process. “What’s up? Did I forget something?”
Ginny smiled, her brown eyes warm and surrounded with laugh lines. “Not a thing. I know I should have called first, but I was on my way to the church for a meeting about the homeless ministry and decided it couldn’t hurt to stop by and invite you to go with me—again.”
Marie felt the objections rising up inside her. “Oh, I couldn’t,” she said, shaking her head. “I have so many things to do today. In fact, I was just ironing when you stopped by.”
Ginny parked her hands on her ample hips and shook her head. “Marie Lawson, that’s exactly why I didn’t call first. I knew you’d have an excuse; you always do. But that ironing can wait, and you know it. The meeting only lasts an hour or so, and then we can go out for a nice cup of coffee and a visit. You’ll be back here by noon.”
Marie felt her resolve start to melt, but she shook the feeling away. “I can’t, Ginny. Really. John will be home by eleven, and I always have something ready for him to eat when he gets here.”
Ginny’s eyes narrowed. “And you can’t just leave him a sandwich?”
Marie knew she could, but she shook her head. “He wouldn’t know where I was. I can’t call him on his cell while he’s on the golf course because he turns it off while he’s playing, and I don’t want him to worry if he comes home and I’m not here.”
Ginny rolled her eyes. “So you leave him a message.”
“He hardly ever thinks to check them.”
“So leave him a nice big note, right next to his sandwich, on the kitchen table. He can read, right?”
A giggle began to work its way up from somewhere deep inside. Marie swallowed it but allowed a smile to pop out. “You’re right,” she conceded at last. “Maybe getting out for a while this morning is exactly what I need. And to be honest, John is always telling me to get involved more at church.” She hesitated. “I have to be honest, though. I don’t know yet whether or not I want to be involved in the homeless ministry.”
“Of course you don’t.” Ginny’s warm smile was back. “You don’t have to commit or decide anything today. Just come to the meeting, find out what we’re doing and how you can help, and then pray about it. That’s it. No pressure.”
After a final moment of hesitation, Marie gave a quick nod. “All right. Let’s do it. I just need to go shut off the iron, make John a quick sandwich, and write that note. Give me five minutes.”
“You’ve got ’em. And I’ll help, so we just might get out of here even sooner than that.”
They laughed, and Marie led the way back to the kitchen, both pleased and surprised at the sense of anticipation she felt.
CHAPTER 9
JULIA’S QUIET SATURDAY MORNING had been interrupted when Carolyn Barnes knocked at her door and asked, “How about riding into San Cristobal with Frank and me to pick up some supplies?”
Julia had readily accepted the offer and thoroughly enjoyed the outing. Unlike her initial trip from the airport to the compound, it hadn’t been dark so she was able to enjoy the lush, even primitive, scenery. Much of the forested and mountainous countryside appeared to have been untouched by humanity or time, but that preserved beauty contrasted sharply with the noise and glitter of San Cristobal’s downtown area. Still, she had enjoyed escaping the confines of La Paz and getting a better feel for the surrounding countryside.
After they returned and the supplies were unloaded and stowed, Julia had asked about the rain forest itself. “It’s so lovely from here—what I can see of it. Is it possible to go exploring?”
Both Fred and Carolyn had cautioned her about doing so alone but had also offered to take her on a brief excursion themselves. Now, highlighted by the temperate afternoon sunshine, the three ventured into the thick stands of trees. Within seconds they found themselves in heavy foliage that the sunlight struggled to penetrate.
“This is so beautiful,” Julia breathed, somehow feeling the need to speak softly. “And so peaceful! It’s as if it has never been touched by human hands.”
Frank, who led the way, paused and turned to Julia. The three of them stood still as he spoke. “It may seem that way, but in most areas that’s not true. Some spots in the Lacandon Jungle have been stripped nearly bare, but it’s still the largest rain forest in North America.” He leaned forward slightly. “Also one of the few places left in the world that contains jaguars.”
Julia felt her eyes widen and the hair rise on the back of her neck. “I . . . I’ve heard strange sounds a couple of times, and I didn’t think it was monkeys or birds. It sounded more like a growl or cry from a large cat.”
Frank nodded. “That’s probably exactly what you’ve heard. We’ve never actually spotted one, probably because they don’t tend to come near the compound, but there’s little doubt they’re out here.”
Carolyn laid a hand on Julia’s arm. “They seldom approach humans,” she said, her voice soothing, “but their presence is one of several reasons we advise people never to come out here alone.” A hint of tears popped into Carolyn’s dark eyes, but she quickly blinked
them away. “You know, that’s what happened to Ramon’s poor wife. She came out here alone and . . . never came back. I told you about that, didn’t I?”
Julia nodded. Carolyn had indeed told her, but it seemed likely the woman had died as a result of human foul play, not an attack from a wild animal. Tragic.
Frank turned away, and he and Carolyn resumed their trek deeper into the trees, pushing away branches and vines as they walked. Julia followed close behind, noticing the ruckus they stirred up with the monkeys hiding in the branches overhead. She liked to think they were welcoming them, but she doubted it.
Once again Frank stopped, as did Carolyn and then Julia. “I’m sure you already know this area is a stronghold of Mayan culture and belief, though much has been mixed with Spanish culture and the Catholic faith. As a result, superstition runs rampant and many of the Mayan descendants are leery of what they consider interlopers. Understandably so, of course. The Spanish nearly wiped out the Mayan way of life when they arrived here, and those of Mayan ancestry who wish to cling to their ancient ways have a deep-seated resentment toward outsiders.” He smiled. “That would be us, of course.”
Julia’s mind flashed back to the many sights she’d seen earlier that day. “I noticed an old woman walking down the street in town. She stood out because she was wearing such varied and brilliant colors. I also noticed a piece of glass hanging from a chain around her neck. I spotted it when it glinted in the sun. I meant to ask you about it. I don’t know why, but I got a strange feeling when she happened to glance my way.”
“I’m not surprised,” Frank answered. “I didn’t notice her, but she was no doubt a shaman. There are many in the area, and they’re often called curanderos or curanderas. Both men and women, they’re more or less the Mayans’ version of a witch doctor, and they’re highly respected among their people. The piece of glass you saw was really a small mirror. The curanderos wear them to ward off evil spirits.” He paused and shook his head. “What they don’t realize is that they themselves are dealing with evil spirits when they practice their occult faith.”
For the second time in minutes, Julia’s hair rose on the back of her neck. She knew her parents would understand Frank’s talk of witch doctors and evil spirits and would certainly agree that the local shamans were engaged in the occult. For herself, however, Julia wasn’t sure how she felt about such things. It was difficult to believe in something that seemed so outdated. And yet . . . hadn’t she virtually left the twenty-first century behind and willingly come to dwell in a place that had scarcely made connection with the twentieth century?
She pushed those thoughts to the back of her mind, determined not to let such superstitious nonsense ruin her enjoyment of the beauty of this tranquil place. She loved it here and looked forward to venturing out into this magnificent greenery as often as possible.
RAMON HAD NOTICED the Barneses and Julia head out in the Jeep earlier that day and later, after they returned, he saw them slip outside the compound in the direction of the forest. Ramon told himself it was only natural that the woman from the United States wanted to explore her new environment, and he knew the best way to do that was in the company of those who had already become accustomed to it. Fred and Carolyn Barnes had been here long enough now to appreciate the area’s beauty as well as its dangers, and he knew they would look out for Julia in her inexperience. Still, the loss of his beloved esposa was too fresh to brush away the uneasiness he felt when someone naively entered the forest.
Julia had quickly endeared herself to the Barneses and Ramon, as well as the students who came and went daily. Ramon told himself his reason for feeling such an immediate connection to the woman was because she was so good with the children, particularly Marina, who obviously adored her. Perhaps that is part of it—most of it, Ramon reasoned. But I am concerned that I care for her too because she is a woman . . . an attractive one. He shook his head, a sense of guilt washing over him. I have no right. And why would such an educated and sophisticated woman even notice me? I am a foolish, arrogant man. Forgive me, Lord . . .
With Julia and the Barneses still outside the compound exploring the rain forest, Ramon forced himself to walk into the chapel and into a tiny cubicle off the back that served as a makeshift office. Tomorrow was Sunday; he had a sermon to finish.
He sat at his rough-hewn desk and opened his Bible. “Open my ears and my heart, Lord,” he whispered. “Let me hear Your voice and know what You want me to speak to Your people tomorrow. Wipe away my arrogance, Father, so that I might speak humbly and clearly. And please prepare the hearts of those You bring here to listen tomorrow morning. Only You know their hearts, Lord, not I. I have no qualifications to stand before them, but I believe You have called me to do so, and so I must obey. Honor my obedience, El Señor, for it is all I have to offer.”
It is enough.
The answer came softly, but it drowned out his insecurities and doubts as he began to read from the Book he so dearly loved.
CHAPTER 10
SUNDAY MORNING BROUGHT THE HOT, dry winds known as Santa Anas, or “devil winds,” to Southern California. Brittney had planned to sleep in but awoke before 8:00, too restless to go back to sleep.
Better to get up and get some studying done anyway, she thought, yawning as she forced herself to a sitting position. Major tests coming soon, might as well get started.
She glanced across the room at her roommate, Chloe—still sleeping, and probably would be for the next few hours. The girl had been out late again, no doubt partying and definitely not studying. Brittney sat up, arched her back, stretched, then stuffed her feet into her scruffy slippers and headed to their shared closet to find some comfy clothes for the day.
Thirty minutes later she was showered and dressed in white, midcalf cotton pants and an off-the-shoulder baggy pink blouse. Her long red-gold hair hung damp and thick down her back and shoulders. She snatched her backpack full of books, stuffed her notebook into the front compartment, and headed for the door.
After a brief stop at the campus coffee shop for a large cappuccino, she headed straight for the library, imagining it would be mostly empty so early on a Sunday morning. Warm, dry wind gusts blew her curls as she crossed the large grassy area between the coffee shop and library. Her hair was nearly dry by the time she stepped through the double doors, but she could only imagine how wild and unkempt it must look. Determined to rein it in as best she could with the large hairclip she’d stuck in her backpack, she aimed for the women’s restroom in the back.
“Britt?”
The familiar voice stopped her in her tracks. “Tyler?” She blinked in surprise at the sight of her big brother parked at a table just feet from the restroom entrance.
“What are you doing here?” they asked in unison, then broke into laughter.
The only other student in the room, a young Asian man with glasses, looked up and frowned in their direction. When they swallowed their laughter, he went back to his reading.
Brittney plunked down beside her brother. “Seriously, what are you doing here? You never get up this early, at least not on the weekends.”
Tyler nodded. “I know. But I’ve really gotten behind on assignments lately. I need to get serious before I get in trouble.” He cocked his head. “But hey, I’m not the only one who doesn’t usually get up early. So why are you here—and what in the world happened to your hair? You look like you got struck by lightning.”
Brittney reached up and tried in vain to smooth down her unruly locks. “I was headed for the restroom to do something with this mop when I saw you. And I’m here because I woke up early and thought I might as well hit the studies. I’m probably not as far behind as you, but I do have tests coming up.”
“We all do.” He shook his head. “College life is great, but it can be tough too.”
“That’s for sure. Here, you want a sip of my cappuccino?”
“I’d like more than a sip, but I’ll settle for a gulp or two.” He took the cup from her and
drank what she was certain was nearly half of her morning caffeine.
“Hey, they do have a coffee shop here on campus, you know.” She took the cup back from him. “And for a couple bucks, you can get one of these all for yourself.”
He grinned. “I know. But it’s a lot more fun to drink yours. Cheaper too.”
She swatted at him, but he ducked. “Some things never change, do they, big brother?”
His grin faded. “Except with Mom. I’ve been thinking about her a lot this morning. Have you heard from her lately?”
“Just the couple of emails that she sent to both of us. I guess Internet access really is spotty there.”
“Sounds like everything even close to civilized is spotty there. I still can’t believe she did something so crazy. It’s just not like her.”
“True. But maybe that’s exactly why she decided to do it.”
Tyler frowned, his dark eyes glowering. “That’s the other thing I can’t believe in all this—why you supported her and encouraged her to do it.”
“I did not encourage her, and you know it. I didn’t want her to go any more than you did. But I just didn’t think it was right for us to stand in her way for selfish reasons.”
“Selfish reasons?” Tyler’s voice rose. “Wanting to keep our mother alive and safe? In case you’ve forgotten, it hasn’t been that long since Dad died.”
Brittney held up her hand and shushed him. “Of course I haven’t forgotten. But I still don’t think we had the right to try to stop her if it’s what she really wanted to do.”