“Just breathe. It will not harm you.” He put his fingers out. The tarantula reached with one of its legs, testing Luca’s finger. Finding it safe, the spider climbed into his palm and rested. Luca gently slipped it off his palm and back onto his safari hat.
Following the entire exchange, Ari’s eyes were round with disbelief. She swallowed convulsively.
“Keep breathing, sweetheart.”
That did her in, the sweetheart. Her heart slowed until he took both her hands in his, waiting patiently.
She swallowed again and took a deep breath. “My father… my father, he was bitten by a brown recluse.” Ari shuddered at the memory of how his foot had looked—the large weeping, ulcerated sore that required hospitalization to stop the necrosis.
“I was in kindergarten. Papa was so sick. I thought he was going to die. All because of a little spider.” She took another shaky breath. “I used to play with daddy longlegs. Can you imagine that? But after Papa was bitten, spiders, well, any spider, scared the shit out of me. My father took months to heal. He has a large permanent scar on his foot. It looks like a crater.”
“Then there was the last time I stayed with my aunt and uncle. I was ten. My uncle was verbally and physically abusive to her. He came in from the field in the evening, pulling his work gloves off to wash up for dinner. He showed her a spider bite on his hand, claiming it was her fault for keeping a dirty, bug-infested house. She was pregnant.” Her voice dropped into a whisper as she relived the horror. “He kicked her. In the stomach. I ran as she screamed, and I locked myself in their barn. I thought he might come after me.”
Tears splashed down her face. “When I woke in the morning, a spider crawled up my arm. And then a wolf spider climbed over my foot by the barn door while I was peeking through the splintered door to see if it was safe. He passed me on his combine on the way to the fields. I ran to the house after I couldn’t see him.”
More tears poured forth. “Fuck.” Shaking her head, she pulled the hem of her tank up and wiped the snot from her nose. “I found my aunt lying on the kitchen floor, the hardwoods covered in her blood. I called 911. Paramedics came and took her to the hospital. She was hemorrhaging and lost the baby. The police came. They drove their squad cars into the field and pulled my uncle off his tractor and handcuffed him. A woman detective took care of me until my parents came. I never went back. My parents never spoke to them again. In my world, spiders make bad things happen.”
During her telling, Luca had pulled her into his arms, onto his lap. He stroked the top of her head gently and kissed it tenderly. “Sweetheart, I am so sorry you experienced those things. And I am a complete ass for trying to help you overcome your aversion to spiders. I believed I could help.”
Ari looked deeply into his mesmerizing eyes. The green had changed color, resembling Lake Michigan during a great storm. Concern, not pity, flitted through their depths. She found such strength there and pulled away, sitting up straighter. “Sorry for all my tears. Thank you for just being there, Luca, and not judging.”
He tucked a curl back that had escaped her braid, behind her ear. “I have no wish to judge you for your fears, only to help you face them, if you are all right with that.”
Ari inhaled long and deep, gazing deeply into his eyes. “What do I do?”
“Do you want to help me release it back into the jungle?”
Her voice became choppy again. “Okay.”
“I will be right with you, every step.”
She nodded.
He extended his hand flat in front of the spider. It touched his fingers tentatively and climbed aboard. “Place your hand next to mine, Ari.”
She did, sucking in her breath when the tarantula reached out and nimbly walked onto her palm. It tickled. She felt wonder when it calmly stayed put. “I’m sweating,” she whispered. “Will that upset it?”
Luca smiled, brushing her ear with a kiss. “No, brave one. I will hold the back of your hand with mine. We will walk it back slowly together.”
They rose and moved to where the jungle growth was denser and knelt together. The spider remained still.
“Lower your hand to the ground. Good,” he said, sliding his palm from underneath the back of her hand. “You are doing great. Move your hand gently.”
She mirrored his movement. After a minute, the tarantula walked off, stopping when only one of its legs touched her forefinger. It tapped her finger a few times and then moved into the undergrowth, disappearing immediately.
Ari was silent, stunned by what she had done.
Luca pulled her into his arms. “How did that feel?”
Her smile blinded him. “The best.” She leaned forward, her hands framing his face with her hands, and kissed him fully. “Thank you,” she murmured against his lips.
“You are welcome.” His hand grazed her cheekbone, his eyes holding hers. “I would enjoy staying and kissing you more, but we should go.” He stood up, offering his hand. She took it, and they walked back hand in hand until they saw the edge of their campsite. Luca pulled her back. His kiss was scorching, and she returned it. Both of them were breathing hard when they parted. He grinned and winked at her, squeezing her hand.
Freshly sponged off, Ari fell onto her sleeping bag. Joan snored softly, wrapped in a gauzy blanket of sorts. Meg’s bedroll was empty, meaning she had bunked in with Matt. Which meant Keaton was where? Where do Meg and Matt find the energy? I’m pooped.
In her mind, Ari recapped her first day of working Kaq. It had been thrilling, yet squatting and bending over for hours strained her body. She came up empty during her time in the pit, but she, Keaton, and Joan made nice inroads on the grids. Seasoned from past digs, she was tasked with establishing the classification methodology. Ari corralled a few students and set about teaching them the system. During break, she chatted with Carlos, finding him warm and intelligent. Although she tried to get him to just call her by her name, he took to calling her “Dr. Ari” as a sign of respect.
Ari was also slated to work in the kitchen. Her job had been to cook the rice, which was an utter failure, rendered to a gluey substance. She overheard Natasha ask another lead archaeologist how someone could “totally fuck up rice.” She felt even worse when Luca dumped his rice into the jungle, like just about everyone else. She had apologized, but Natasha had made her botched effort sting more by suggesting she be given KP duty. Natasha was a bitch. Given the opportunity, Ari was sure that, with time, she would master cooking rice over an open fire—and that was her last thought before falling into a deep sleep.
The weeks wore on, and the excavation at Kanul took on a rigid pattern—rising at five o’clock, breakfast, and excavating by six. There was a midmorning break, back to the pits or cataloging, lunch, a midday break, dinner, and lights-out. Ari thoroughly enjoyed digging next to the grad students and guiding them and sharing her knowledge about the Maya. It was if she were teaching a class in the jungle. She celebrated each find being unearthed from the jungle’s shroud with them—clearly inscribed stelae, stone sculptures that merged human and animal characteristics, and architecture. Remains had been discovered a few times. Bones had elicited wonder until Ari determined they were musical instruments made from tapirs’ jawbones and teeth. They all hoped to discover a big find—human remains, an overlooked codex, an important temple. It was possible; there was no tunneling evident, indicating looting of the site. They had just hit paved limestone floors.
Although her interactions with Luca were rare and too brief, Ari was able to watch him work. He had far more to manage than she did—overseeing the two excavations within Kanul and collaborating with the other lead archaeologists. There were evenings when she thought she might be able to talk with him, but he was pulled away into this or that conversation. She went back and forth—missing him, yet she was relieved their interactions were kept to a minimum. What occurred when they were by themselves could only be explained as combustion. She continued to wrestle with her intense fascination and growing emot
ions for him and the fact that he supervised her.
Having served their time, a number of grad students left, replaced by more grad students and archaeological leads. The tent community swelled into a small village as additional tents were erected and the pace of excavations progressed. The occasional and promised brief trips back to Flores became limited due to the volume of artifacts being excavated and structures exposed.
Finally, after seven weeks, Ari got the chance to commute back to Flores for two days with several colleagues, along with Natasha. The women spoke little to each other, immersing themselves in their extensive field notes and napping.
In Flores, Ari enjoyed her break, sleeping in, swimming, showering in her private room, and catching up on laundry. She called and updated her parents, and upon seeing Eric had called numerous times and left messages, she deleted them without listening. She also blocked any future calls and messages and deleted his contact information. Luca was ever present in her thoughts and dreams—which grew more graphic the longer she was apart from him.
The hair on the back of Ari’s neck rose when she stepped into her room late in the second afternoon. She had spent hours at the pool, lounging and reading. Something was off. Her panic escalated when she noticed that her journal appeared to be at a slightly different angle on the desk. Her backpack was also hanging off the chair differently than she had left it. One of the shoulder straps was no longer hooked over the back of the chair. Someone had been in here since she had left, and it wasn’t the maid. Ari had still been in the room when she came to tidy up in the late morning. She moved to the desk and picked up the journal. Her bookmark was under it, not inside as she had left it. Her hand flew to her chest and then to her pendant, where her throat pulsed hard and fast. She exited, making a beeline for the front desk, intent on an answer.
The desk clerk frantically waved an envelope at her. “Dr. Ari. Buenas tardes. This arrived while you were gone. Edgar forgot to give it to you, so excited was he about his daughter’s wedding. It came in a stack of papers. I am sorry for this.”
“Good afternoon, Fredy! Don’t worry about it. Thank you,” she said, reaching for it, then yanking her hand back as if she’d been burned. The envelope fell to the ground.
He bent to retrieve it. “My sorry again. Here you are.” Smiling, he placed it in her hand.
Fredy’s apology and her surroundings faded as the uncomfortable feeling grew into anxiety. There was no mistaking the block print on the outside of the envelope; it was Eric’s.
“Do you know when this arrived?”
He pointed to some numbers scribbled above her name. “See the date?”
“I do, thank you.” The envelope had been delivered the day after they left for Kanul, seven weeks ago. There was no address under her name and no return address or postmark. What the fuck? Is Eric here? “Fredy, I came down to check on something. Do you know if someone has been in my room since the maid was there this morning?”
His face scrunched up before he responded, “I do not think so, but I will check.” Please wait here, Dr. Ari.” He disappeared through the door behind him.
She refilled her bottle with purified water from the large dispenser on the counter, her heart beating erratically.
Fredy reappeared. “No one of our staff has been in your room. Is everything well in your room?”
Her hands grew damp and her voice cracked. She was sure she had locked her door before going down to the pool. “Yes. Um… Um… Thank you for checking.”
As Ari returned to her room to shower before dinner, she wondered who had access to it and why they had read her journal. She repacked her duffel with laundered clothes and other items, placing Eric’s letter on top, planning on reading it over breakfast. She looked forward to returning to Kanul tomorrow and seeing everyone, particularly Luca. The shuttle was departing early. She put the chair in front of her door before climbing into bed.
The next morning, Ari walked to the comedor and sat in a corner for privacy, pulling Eric’s letter from her front pocket, her buoyant mood sucked from her like quicksand.
“Buenos días, señorita. Café?”
“Sí, por favor.” Ari rose to fill her plate from the buffet and then sat down. She took a deep breath to steady her nerves and opened the envelope.
Ariana,
I remind you that I have your itinerary. I know where you’re staying. I’m still waiting for your call and your apology.
I believe I shared with you how much I enjoy Flores. Your hotel has a refreshing pool and nice view of the lake, don’t you agree? It’s a nice reprieve from the bugs and inhospitable climate.
I am out of patience. I will not wait any longer. We must talk.
ANSWER YOUR FUCKING PHONE!
Eric
Yeah, or else what Eric? Fuck you and your implied threat. I will never be under your control again.
Ari had been able to avoid him on campus and skirt the last two department meetings and year-end party. It was easier than she realized; she knew his schedule and his habits. She cut her semester weeks short, citing a family emergency, and graded her students’ final papers via computer.
Why wasn’t it obvious to him that she wanted nothing to do with him, ever again? Adding it all up together—the incident at her apartment, him tracking her down, the letter waiting for her in Antigua, the letter delivered here in Flores, the threatening tone of his words—she hadn’t realized it until now that Eric was all about having power over her, controlling her. He was screwing with her. A chill ran through Ari. Had Eric been in her room? Someone had.
She tore his words into little pieces until they resembled confetti and dropped them bit by bit into her cooled coffee, turning it muddier as the ink released from the paper. The alarm on her watch went off, indicating it was time to board the shuttle. Perfect; she had lost her appetite anyway.
Luca was tired and cranky. Weeks without engaging with and touching Ari, all the while having her close by, were driving him crazy. When he could, he observed her work and enjoyed watching her interact with others. Her work on-site was professional and excellent—detailed and organized. She was kind, mentoring students on the importance of patience, technique, and about not compromising the integrity of their excavation skills. She listened to complaints and acknowledged the backbreaking work of moving rocks, roots, and dirt. She celebrated their finds with them, documenting them through photos.
One afternoon, last week, she had given the students working with her a concise and fascinating impromptu lecture on osteology and forensics after tapir bones had been unearthed. He wasn’t the only one to pause and listen. Many had stopped to listen or come over to see why others took a break in their work. She had amassed a large captive audience that afternoon. Ari quickly became a student favorite with forensic knowledge coupled with Mayan cultural expertise and folklore. He missed her.
Even I underestimated the availability of my time. I need a break. Hell, the team needs one. They have worked practically nonstop for seven weeks. Ari, Natasha, and a few others are returning from their break in Flores. We are all going to take a break when they get back. Everyone has earned it. That decided, Luca fell asleep and dreamed of Ari.
“Have you considered what Luca has been through? How it affected him? It’s a wonder he isn’t an empty man. Damn, I’m melting and slick with sweat. These damn bugs—”
“Hold on there.” Ari dug in her bag and passed Meg some bug repellent. “Might help. What? What are you talking about?”
After pulling her paddles from the water, Meg laid them crosswise and sprayed each limb carefully, answering, “His wife.”
Ari’s heart plummeted to her feet. “He’s married?” she spit out incredulously, her voice rising with each syllable. Shit. Not again. The memory of discovering Eric was a husband and father surfaced once again.
“Earth to Ari. Hello?” She snapped her fingers in her friend’s face, laughing softly. “You’re back. Good. Where did you go? You like, checked out. And
look, you gotta keep your voice down. It’ll carry over the water.” The kayak rocked as Meg carefully turned, keeping her body low and centered. “Spritz my back, will you? This break was a great idea of Luca’s, but I’m pooped. I really was up for sleeping and some bed gymnastics with Matt. How much farther do you think?”
“Sorry. I was revisiting something.”
“Uh-huh. Your visit didn’t appear to be a good one from my vantage point. Care to share?”
The effort to speak was like slogging through mud. “I was floored by what you said. Shit. I’ll get over it.” Ari changed the subject, opting not to bring her Eric into their wonderful day. “How can you be pooped, Miss Expert Climber?” She handed the bottle back to Meg. “You’ll have to get your face.”
“Must be the climate draining me. It’s bloomin’ hot, then it rains outta nowhere. No, it’s more like a monsoon outta nowhere. Crikey, being sticky all the time is wearing me down, girlfriend.” She leaned in, wiping her face with the spritzed bandana. “Want some?”
Ari stared at her lap, staring at her hands and shaking her head. “I’m good, thanks,” she croaked through the burning in her throat.
Speaking just loud enough for Ari to hear, Meg said, “The guys are behind us but not that far. Back to the subject.” She squeezed Ari’s shoulder. “I kinda left the tidbit hanging out there, didn’t I? Damn, Ari. I’m so sorry. Was married. Luca’s wife died in a car accident some years ago. Word is he was driving.”
Astonished, Ari’s head snapped up at that news. The bright sunlight dimmed, and the scenic cloud forest surrounding them faded as sadness for him bubbled up. She dropped her head again and whispered, “Oh, oh… How tragic.”
Meg gently placed her hand on Ari’s head. “I thought you knew. Try to cut him some slack.”
“I will. Oh my God…” A bevy of emotions swirled in Ari, chief among them relief, guilt over the relief, and sympathy.
Afraid to Fall (Ancient Passages Book 1) Page 14