by A. T. Grant
David smiled at nothing in particular and decided to talk to Dana, who had joined their little party on the pretence of never having visited Coba before. She was sitting next to him, peering intently ahead over the back of Laura’s shoulder to where the dead straight road shrank to nothing in particular in the middle distance.
“Have you noticed the butterflies?” he enquired.
“Sorry, David, what did you say?”
“Have you noticed all the butterflies?” David gestured ahead.
Dana looked at the road again, as though she hadn’t actually noticed it before. “No, to be honest, I wasn’t really looking. I was thinking about work, I’m afraid.”
“Fortunately that isn’t something I’ve had to do for the last few days,” David commented, warmly.
They were silent for a few moments, listening to an allegedly funny song that Darryl was trying to encourage his children to sing.
“There are a lot, aren’t there!” Dana sounded very correct and vaguely disapproving: almost like an old-fashioned school Ma’am, commenting upon a student’s numerous spelling errors. “Why do you think they’re all in the road?”
David thought for a moment. “Maybe it’s the heat: perhaps the warmth from the road helps them fly, or possibly it’s somewhere to be seen when you’re looking for a mate?”
They were silent again, both studying their subjects. Every few hundred metres a vortex of insects would spiral up from the tarmac, dance over the bonnet and tumble up the windscreen in an interrupted swirling dance. One lodged under a windscreen wiper.
“Such a waste, really,” Dana mused.
“I don’t know,” responded David, “perhaps that butterfly changed the world before it died. Have you heard of chaos theory and the butterfly effect?”
“Weren’t they films?”
“I think so,” David giggled, “but also a branch of Mathematics. You must know the famous illustration of the theory, where a butterfly beating its wings in Brazil causes a hurricane in the Caribbean?”
“I guess that means we’re in trouble,” Dana responded.
“How so?”
“Well, these butterflies are a good deal closer to the Caribbean than those in Brazil.”
David laughed the sort of unselfconscious laugh that had not been a part of his personal repertoire for a long time. He turned slightly to see Dana’s face. It was long and pretty, with a slightly pinched quality. Rich green eyes sat like emeralds above pronounced cheek bones and a scattering of freckles. She returned his gaze, equally curious.
“David, you’ll sing, won’t you?” Darryl was recruiting more widely, having failed dismally with Hannah and Lloyd, who had shrunk back into their ipods.
Jackie leaned forward and put a hand on David’s shoulder. “Don’t worry; he’ll shut up eventually if we keep ignoring him.” She cast a look of mock disapproval at her husband. “Laura, how much farther do we have to go?”
Laura twisted in her front seat to focus on Marcus, who in turn looked enquiringly at their driver, Cesar.
“About another half hour,” he turned and shouted to the back of the bus. “We will arrive before any big coaches. We can make the walk in the forest and it will not be too hot, although I think maybe you will not believe me. It is very cold in England.”
It is very cold in England. The words struck a chord with David and brought to mind a succession of negative experiences which had little to do with the weather. Feeling suddenly pensive, he turned back to the blur of trees passing the window and proceeded to chew at a finger nail. A short while later he had drifted into fitful slumber.
“What’s that?” Hannah had been shaken from her computer game by the increasingly bumpy road through the ramshackle village that formed modern-day Coba. She was looking towards a small jetty, jutting out into a reed-fringed lake. One man stood by a rough gate at the near end, whilst two others leaned against a none-too-safe looking railing at the other. A sign suspended above the gate read “Cocodrilo”.
“There are crocodiles in the lake,” Cesar shouted. “It is not permitted to feed them, but these men do. They make money by attracting them for the tourists.”
“Marcus, can we see them?” Lloyd pleaded.
Marcus gestured to Cesar and the minibus drew up on the opposite side of the road beside a weather-beaten, tin-roofed cottage. Dana made excuses about pressure of work and left to walk back to a nearby lakeside hotel, where they were all to spend the night. Marcus chatted briefly to her outside the van then jogged across the lakeside highway to the figure at the gate. Soon he waved for the group to follow. David hung back, groggy from his dozing and already missing Dana’s comforting presence. His insular mood only increased when he heard Marcus babbling away confidently in Spanish. The locals cast lumps of meat from a bucket into the water. Large shoals of colourful fishes instantly gathered to peck at the flesh. David noticed his first crocodile, a six foot juvenile, pushing its way out through the rushes.
There was a squeal of excitement from Hannah and Felicity at the far end of the platform. They had clearly spotted something much more exciting. David was about to join them when Marcus put a powerful hand on his arm and issued a hearty Well done. Apparently he had been sensible enough not to crowd the far end of the rickety wharf. David smiled a forced smile, shoved his hands into his pockets and stared out across the broad expanse of water. He recalled the “Well done, David” from the telephone call that had brought him to Mexico - and the oddly familiar, overly personal lady on the other end of the line. How sick he was of people patronising him.
He swayed and clutched suddenly at the fragile rail. Out of nowhere it came to him whose voice it had been on the phone.
“Are you alright, mate?” Marcus looked concerned. David had gone as white as a sheet.
“It’s OK, just the heat,” David responded. The rest of his mind struggled to catch up with its own revelation.
“Culjinder,” he mumbled to himself.” It was Culjinder!”
“What was Culjinder?” Marcus sounded completely bemused.
David hadn’t even realised he had spoken and now had no idea what else to say. Fortunately, Laura hailed Marcus at that moment. Circumstances at the other end of the peer were getting dodgy. He left David to his thoughts.
“Bloody hell!” David swore, at nothing in particular. How on earth had Phoebe known about Culjinder? Even as the question left him he had his answer. Of course! Yes, of course. She had seen the photograph album. That must be why I couldn’t find it. But how did Phoebe contact her? This was a harder question to answer, but then David remembered the letter from Culjinder that David had pasted into the back of the album. There was an address and a telephone number and, even after many years, that was a pretty good lead. But why had she contacted her? That question he could not answer. Nor did he want to think about the conversations they must have shared, or how they had decided to send him to Mexico.
“Shit!” He had been patronised again. He was so sick of people trying to organise his life that he could have wrestled the juvenile crocodile which had arrived at its first chunk of meat, and was snapping its jaws across it.
“Come on, David,” Ethan was calling. He wandered up to join the rest of the group. Over the shoulders of the two crouching children, David caught his first glimpse of the antediluvian monster that was causing all the excitement. Twice as big as a man, it was ignoring every chunk of meat thrown its way. It was only a short distance from the end of the jetty, which stood no more than two feet out of the water. David knew instantly what was going to happen, but completely failed to appreciate why he felt so calm. Grabbing both children by their shirt collars, he hauled them onto their backsides. Hannah’s camera flew from her hand, bounced once on the end of the deck and plopped into the water. In the same instant the crocodile sprang forward and both Laura and Felicity screamed and
fell headlong backwards over the two sitting figures. Laura caught the lower railing just in time to avoid rolling sideways into the lake. David took a mental snapshot of the creature suspended by its teeth from a length of rail, its tail thrashing wildly. Then the wood broke. The crocodile jack-knifed to one side, plunged back into the lake, stirred up a thick mud soup, and sped off into deep water.
“Madre de Dios!” Cesar had crossed the road and was running towards them. Laura struggled to her knees and hugged Hannah, who had begun crying hysterically. Jackie joined her. Marcus and Ethan helped Felicity to her feet. She had cut her hand on the rough planking as she fell and it was bleeding heavily. Marcus ran off to get the first aid kit. Lloyd put his head in his hands then ran his fingers deep into his thick blond hair. He was shaking. Darryl stood at the back of the group alongside Cesar, swearing continuously.
Though surrounded by panic and chaos, David’s mind had disconnected as soon as he noticed the rich, brown turbulence. He felt utterly at peace. He was smiling. An image of Culjinder stole his attention. They were together in India, on David’s only previous adventure. Culjinder had been trying to change position in a dugout canoe their group was using to explore the creeks of a mangrove swamp. She had fallen in as the boat rocked unexpectedly and disappeared from sight in the milk chocolate waters. Then she had risen from the deep beside him, her long, dark hair and white teeth gleaming in the strong sunlight. It was the first time in a week of touring that their eyes had met and each held the other’s gaze for several seconds longer than necessary. That girl, at that moment, remained the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. Culjinder had stretched up a hand for David to grasp and he and the boatman had struggled to assist her aboard.
“David, are you alright?” It was Ethan. The others were making their way back to the bus, in twos and threes. Cesar and Marcus were arguing with the men operating the platform. David returned to the present and jogged to catch up.
Twenty minutes later, all sort comfort from soft drinks or ice-cream in a heavily varnished, open-air restaurant, close to the entrance to Coba’s forest and archaeological complex. They sat quietly, contemplating their purchases with little enthusiasm for anything else. For the first time in several years, Hannah had an arm draped across her brother, Lloyd’s, shoulders. Felicity was slowly flexing her injured hand.
“Bloody hell, that was close!” It was John Tanner, who was looking accusingly across the long trestle table at Marcus. Marcus looked sheepish, and his artificially cheery “No harm done,” struck nobody, particularly Laura, as a suitable response.
“It was lucky David lost his balance,” Sharon Tanner added, angrily. “He grabbed the kids as he stumbled, which pulled them out of the way; otherwise they’d have gone the same way as the camera.”
David knew what was coming. He clenched his fists and stared fixedly into his drink.
“Well done, David!” Laura beamed earnestly in his direction. Everyone else forced a smile too but, unlike the others, Laura instantly recognised she had said the wrong thing.
“Maybe it was the sudden movement that made the creature strike?” suggested Marcus.
Laura couldn’t stop herself casting him a withering glare. As quickly as she could, she regained control and launched into a different conversation. Marcus had dropped several more notches in her estimation and she didn’t want to think about the implications. “Cesar tells me that it will take three to four hours to explore the city. Apparently, it is spread out across the forest and some of the most interesting buildings are quite a long walk from here. Make sure you’ve collected your packed lunches and that you have your hats and sunscreen with you - best to take a litre of water, as well. We can hire as many local guides as you wish; so no need for everyone to stay with the main group. Nobody should wander off alone, however. Cesar says the jungle can be very disorientating.”
“What time do you want us back?” John enquired, flatly, too shocked to garner any real interest, but glad of the distraction, nonetheless.
Laura glanced reluctantly at Marcus, who said nothing, and may possibly not even have heard, as his expression was fixed and uncharacteristically introspective. “It’s nearly eleven o’clock now, so let’s say three at the latest. Our accommodation tonight is just around the lake and Dana will have taken care of all the formalities. That will leave us two or three hours of daylight to find our bearings there.”
“And the food is meant to be splendid,” Marcus chipped in, “so a good walk should give us all a hearty appetite.” Several of the others got up silently. None wanted to make eye contact.
The party rambled its way mechanically past the gatehouse, to be enveloped by the dappled shade of the forest. Unfortunately, the trees brought no relief from the oppressive heat, as what little breeze there had been in the open car park lost its way between the trunks, and the humidity rose accordingly. Sand and gravel trails headed off in most directions. It was already possible to see bits of wall covered in creepers and a hint of more substantial buildings, just ahead. David was beginning to sweat and was also aware of an excited hum of flying insects nearby. Making his excuses to Ethan and Felicity, who were busy adjusting the dressing covering her cut hand, he shuffled back to the bus. There he grabbed some insect repellent, and a magazine he could use as a fan.
By the time David returned most of the others were either climbing a pyramid-like lookout tower, or standing in a Mayan ball court, debating the rules of the ancient game it used to house. These diversions were already helping to leaven the tension.
The court was long and narrow, the walls down each side sloping at an angle of forty-five degrees. David imagined it could host a good game of real tennis, or keepie-uppie football, but the small stone rings halfway down each sloping wall seemed impossible targets for a goal.
“Apparently, the captain of the winning side was beheaded after the game,” informed Sharon, bluntly.
David stood, hands on hips, imagining the crowd peering down from the top of each ramp. Here, he mused to himself, was a sporting arena in which he would have been entirely safe. He had never experienced captaincy and there was absolutely no way he would have managed to direct any kind of ball through one of those hoops.
Reinvigorated by their early encounters with this ancient metropolis, most were impatient to move on and to distance themselves further from their earlier scare. Figures soon disappeared into the greenery, following dead-straight Mayan thoroughfares which ran for miles through the jungle, linking town to town with an economy of effort only matched by the Romans. The Tanners were last to depart. They appeared keen to explore beyond every stone corner first, having emerged triumphantly from one building to declare they had discovered a tunnel from one part of the complex to another. They marched off purposely on either side of their guide, interrogating her knowledge with rapid-fire questions, in part generated by lingering adrenaline.
David and the children loitered in a clearing containing a small wooden kiosk. It was obvious that both Hannah and Lloyd were still shaken by their lakeside encounter. Neither was keen for another adventure. They sat with David at a picnic bench used by the guides and, for a short while, concentrated on drinking deeply from their water bottles.
“I know you didn’t trip over,” announced Lloyd. “You knew we’d got too close to the big crocodile, didn’t you?”
“Yes,” David whispered.
“Then why didn’t you say something?” Lloyd was bemused.
Davis just shrugged. He would have had to narrate his entire life story to answer that question.
“And I’m not at all worried about losing that old camera,” added Hannah. “It was not very good and Mum and Dad will probably claim for a better one on the insurance, knowing them. They always manage to find something to claim for.”
“So are you two OK now?” enquired David.
“I think so,” replied Lloyd. “I
t’s funny, isn’t it: out here the animals are real? It’s nothing like going to a zoo.”
“It’s the little ones I’m most worried about,” responded David in frustration, as he failed for the third time to swat a particularly persistent fly with his rolled up magazine.
“Have you done this sort of thing before?” asked Hannah.
“Once: a long time ago, when I was not much older than you two.”
“Didn’t you enjoy it?” Hannah seemed genuinely interested.
“I did. It was the best thing I’ve ever done. I was thinking about it only a little while ago. Back home I’m always talking to my girlfriend about it. It was her idea that I come here.”
“Why didn’t she come too?”
“Her father died recently and, to be honest, I don’t think I’ve been very easy to live with. Sometimes adults need time apart.”
For a moment Hannah struggled to think of a grown up response, then gave up. “Where did you go?” she enquired.
“I went to India. It was fantastic. I was young and I fell in love with someone. I realised recently that I still care for her. I think it’s been holding me back for years.” David emerged from his reverie to realise the conversation was verging on the inappropriate. “Come on,” he declared, “let’s see if we can hire those bikes behind the shelter. If we’re lucky, we should be able to catch up with the others and get to see all the ruins with a lot less effort.”