Treasure of Acapulco

by Witton, Dorothy

  "They use as many as they can get. But you don't have to buy one. Nobody would expect you to," Tony protested, knowing that the pinatas were fairly costly and that Peter's father did not have much money. Collections

  were taken up for the neighborhood parties, so no great expense fell on any one person. But for Mr. Carson to buy one alone was a different matter.

  "I haven't gotten a Christmas present for you yet, Pete." Mr. Carson looked at his son questioningly.

  Peter nodded. "I'd rather have a pinata than anything else," he said emphatically.

  "But if you take it to the party, you won't have it," Tony told him. "The kids will break it."

  "I'll have the fun of watching it get broken," Peter insisted.

  "Okay, if that's the way you want it," Tony surrendered, outwardly reluctant but inwardly pleased that his gringo friends were so interested in the Mexican traditions.

  "Which one do you hke best, Pete?" Mr. Carson turned to his son, his brown eyes almost as eager as Peter's blue ones.

  The three of them finally decided on a realistic-looking bull with its head down, ready to charge. Then they bought enough bags of candy and small gifts to more than fill it.

  After that, Tony led them to a section of the market where the booths were given over to the small figurines and trimmings used for the construction of the manger scenes.

  "What a lot of work must have gone into these!" Mr. Carson mused, picking up a three-inch clay figure of a peasant with a bundle of kindling on his back. "Look how perfectly he's made, Pete—even to the creases in his hat

  and the buckles on his sandals. They'd make good drawing models for you."

  "Aunt Raquel and the girls arranged our rmcimiento yesterday—that's what we call the manger scenes here," Tony remarked.

  "Does every family have one, Tony?" Peter asked. "Must be kind of expensive."

  "Well, they're used year after year, you see," Tony answered. "People start with just the most important pieces, and then they add one or two figures whenever they can."

  It was well after eight o'clock by the time Peter and his father were able to tear themselves away from the fascinations of the pre-Christmas market.

  "It's still early for the fiesta to start," Tony said as they walked back through town. "I'll show you one of the best nacimientos around our neighborhood, on the way back."

  "Don't they mind people coming in to stare?" Peter asked.

  "Of course not," Tony assured him. "They're glad to show it. After all, they've put a lot of work into it and they like to have it appreciated!"

  A few minutes later, they stopped at the door of a high-walled house and after Tony had knocked and introduced his friends to the senora, the three of them were ushered to a sheltered part of the huge patio where the nacimiento had been set up.

  Peter and his father stood in front of it for a long time, admiring the beauty of the scene and the ingenuity displayed in its arrangement.

  It was after nine o'clock when they arrived at the home of Tony's neighbor, where the posada was being held. The huge patio was already filled with people, young and old.

  Tony courteously presented the Carsons to their hosts and then led them to his own family. Although Mr. Carson's Spanish was much less fluent than Peter's, he managed to chat at some length with Uncle Juan and Aunt Raquel. Tony and Peter drifted away toward a group of boys their own age.

  "I've often seen Marta, of course, when I called for you at home," Peter murmured in Tony's ear, "and I always thought she was pretty. But tonight she's absolutely beautiful!"

  Tony, pleased, glanced back at his sister. He himself thought that Marta was the prettiest girl at the party, but it was nice to have Peter confirm his opinion.

  Tony was about to say something when he felt a hearty clap on his shoulder and turned to find Julio beside him, grinning broadly.

  "Julio! Que bueno! I didn't know you were coming to this posada!"

  "I came, hoping you'd be here, though I didn't really expect you to be! Hola, Pedro, how goes it? "

  "Fine." Peter smiled and shook hands.

  "Looks as though I got here just in time," Jufio remarked, nodding to the other side of the patio, where their hostess was beginning to organize the procession.

  "Yes," Tony said. "We'll leave you for a while now, Julio. I'm going to pair up with Pedro, so I can explain things to him. He's never been to a posada before."

  "You don't mean it!" The older boy sounded shocked. "Pedro, I can see you still have a long way to go before becoming a real Mexican! Take care of him, Tony. I'll see you later. Maybe they'll let me walk in the procession with Marta or some other pretty girl—"

  "He's just joking," Tony told Peter as they took their places in the procession. "Girls and boys don't mix for this part of the posada. Not until later."

  Peter watched the proceedings with interest. The guests, well accustomed to the traditional order of things, had lined up in pairs. Children were in front, with two of the youngest carrying a small platform with the figures of Mary on a burro, Joseph following behind, and a guiding angel hovering over them. Each guest was supphed with a tall lighted candle.

  When they were ready, the electric lights were extinguished, and the column of candles began to move slowly from one patio door to another.

  "They go to nine doors, representing the nine nights," Tony whispered to Peter.

  At each door they stopped and sang the traditional song which Tony translated in a low voice for the benefit of Mr. Carson, who was just behind the two boys:

  In the name of heaven I beg you shelter. . . .

  From the other side of the door, came the answer:

  This is no inn. Continue farther. . . .

  The line of pilgrims went on from door to door, while

  the impressive half-song, half-chant filled the patio and the entire neighborhood.

  When they reached the ninth door, it was flung open and the procession of people entered, singing a hymn of joy and thanks, and placing their candles in front of the nacimiento.

  "A beautiful custom," Mr. Carson said to Tony, obviously moved by the ceremony.

  As the guests crowded back into the patio, they began to mix more freely and the scene became more animated.

  "Now the second part of the fiesta begins," Tony explained to the Carsons. "The fun part. See, they're lowering the first pinata"

  A gorgeous silver star, with blue paper tassels hanging from every point, dangled in the patio on a rope stretched between two young men who stood precariously on the low tile rooftops.

  Peter and his father joined the circle of spectators and watched with interest as the first child was blindfolded, given a long stick, turned round and round to confuse him, then pushed in the general direction of the star.

  The youngster pounded the air vigorously, but the star bobbed up and down, just out of reach, pulled to safety by the boys who were operating the ropes.

  "They don't let it be hit right away," Tony explained, "so more children will have a chance to try."

  It was one of the smallest girls who finally managed a blow that shattered the star and, from its horn of plenty goodies poured over the shrieking young guests as they all scrambled for their share.

  After two other, smaller, pinatas had been broken by

  the children, Mr. Carson's big charging bull was lowered into the patio and was greeted with applause and shouts of approval.

  Their hostess held up her hand for silence.

  "This pifiuta" she said, smiling, "was contributed by our American guests and it's for the young people, not the children. We'll give Pedro Carson, Tony's friend, a chance to break it first!"

  Another wave of applause broke out as Peter, surprised, pleased and a little embarrassed, was pushed forward and blindfolded. After a few futile whacks, he pulled off the blindfold, laughing, and gave up.

  "You didn't really try to break it, did you, Pedro?" Tony said to him, as Julio was pushed up to take his turn. "They gave you a chance
to."

  "No," Peter whispered back. "I want to see someone else break it. I wish it could be your sister Marta."

  Tony slipped away and held a low conversation with one of the boys on the rooftop, who nodded and signaled to the other boy.

  When Marta's turn came, they deliberately dangled the pinata in front of her. Although she was not trying very hard, the bull shattered with a light stroke of her stick—and Peter's wish was fulfilled. He smiled his thanks at Tony.

  It was after eleven o'clock when supper was served, buffet style, since there were far too many guests to be seated all at once. There was turkey and pork and chicken, along with tortillas and beans, and the special colorful Christmas salad of oranges, bananas, peanuts, beets, sugar cane and several other ingredients.

  While they were eating, a small orchestra began to play in one corner of the patio, and the young people paired off to dance. Marta and Julio were among the first couples on the floor. Tony watched them, thinking how fine it would be if Marta and his adopted family could remain in Acapulco.

  "I wish things would stay the way they are," he said abruptly to Peter.

  Peter, absorbed in the details of the fiesta, looked blank for a moment. Then, following Tony's eyes to Marta, he followed his thoughts, too.

  "Nothing ever stays the same for long," he said soberly. "Everything's always changing, all the time. And I guess that getting used to the changes is part of growing up."

  Tony stared and then laughed a Httle. "You know, Pedro, you look younger than you are—but sometimes you sure sound old. Real old!" He changed the subject, "Tell me, did you like the party?"

  Peter became his own age again. "Tony, it was swell! I don't know how to thank you for bringing us!"

  "That goes for me, too," said Mr. Carson, who was just then approaching the boys. "It was a fine experience, Tony, and I'm certainly grateful. I think I'd better get on home now. If you boys want to stay, I imagine you'll see that Pete gets home all right, Tony?"

  "I think I ought to get some sleep, too." Tony looked at Peter questioningly. "From now on, the party is just dancing. Do you want to stay, Pedro? Julio would walk back to the boardinghouse with you, if you do. He always stays late."

  "No, I'll go along with Dad," Peter said. "I'm not in-

  terested in the dancing. It was a wonderful evening, Tony! See you tomorrow?"

  "Seguro!" Tony assured him. "But don't say good-by yet. I'll walk home with both of you, if you're going now."

  Too Deep, Too Long

  Peter had been right, Tony thought when he woke up the morning after the fiesta. The evening of entertainment had brushed some of the cobwebs from his brain. He felt refreshed and invigorated, and when the two boys met on the docks, early that afternoon, there was new determination on Tony's face.

  "I think I should try to get more commercial skin-diving work," he told his friend resolutely. "A lot of stuff goes to the bottom of this bay and isn't ever recovered. If I were sure of the jobs, I could afford to rent an aqualung and—"

  "What about sunken ships?" Peter interrupted eagerly. "Maybe treasure ships?"

  Tony smiled a Uttle. "Ships have gone down in the bay, Pedro," he conceded, "but long before this, they've been stripped of whatever 'treasure' they may have had. And bringing up the ship itself, even after it's been taken to pieces, is a job for a salvage company. No, I meant more practical stuff, like the anchor I raised the other day. Most of the skin divers here won't be bothered with those jobs because they can make more by giving

  lessons to tourists. I just have to think of some good way to advertise my services."

  The two boys stood in silence a moment, thinking about it as they watched the usual afternoon return of the fishing cruisers. Most of the boats flew red and navy flags on tiieir riggers, indicating that they had caught sailfish, but Tony noticed the approach of one launch that had all its flags flying.

  "They must have caught a big marlin," he said absently.

  Sailfish were fairly plentiful in Acapulco waters, but marlin were more scarce. A catch of a three- or four-hundred-pound marlin was an event signaled to shore with all the flags a fishing launch possessed.

  As the boat came closer, they could see the huge fish draped across the bow.

  "It really is a whopper!" Peter exclaimed.

  Tony noticed that the American tourist who jumped out when the boat docked did not look as happy as he should after fishing such a prize.

  "If only my watch hadn't dropped overboard!" the man was lamenting. "I wouldn't have lost that for anything!"

  "We could send a diver down to look for it," the launch captain said reluctantly, "but it's pretty deep out there."

  "I'd pay well," the big American said. "It isn't the intrinsic value of the watch, you understand. My wife gave it to me on our twentieth wedding anniversary and —well, she has passed away since then. I wouldn't have traded it for a marlin twice this size!"

  Tony, who had been listening intently, shot a quick

  look at Peter. This was the kind of work he'd just been talking about! He broke into the conversation.

  "Where was the watch lost?" he asked the captain.

  "Oh, way out there, about a mile beyond Elephant Rock," the man muttered. "That water is twenty or thirty fathoms deep!"

  Tony hesitated. He had never gone down as far as a hundred and twenty feet. On the occasions when he had had the use of an aqualung, he had never wanted to use the precious time that way. At such a depth, part of the time underwater had to be utilized in a slow ascent, in order to decompress properly and avoid the "bends"— a painful, crippling—and sometimes fatal—affliction of divers.

  But if he found the watch quickly, there would be time enough. Nothing ventured, nothing gained! he thought.

  "There are rock ledges in some places out there," he said aloud. "It might have fallen on one of those, which would make it simpler to find. Anyhow, I'd like to try."

  "It's up to you." The captain shrugged.

  "I'm a skin diver, sir," Tony told the American, in English. "If you like, I'll try to find your watch for you. But you'll have to rent a tank of compressed air for me to use."

  "Of course!" The man turned to him eagerly. "I'll rent anything you need. And I'll pay you twenty dollars if you find it!"

  Tony's eyes sparkled. Twenty dollars was a ridiculously high price for recovering a watch, but if it meant that much to this rich American, he would certainly do

  his level best to earn it! Twenty dollars was two hundred and fifty pesos. What a boost that would give his savings!

  Within half an hour the tourist, Mr. Williams, had rented aqualung equipment and hired a speedboat to take them to the spot where the watch band had snapped and the watch had gone overboard, during his struggle with the marlin. The launch captain checked the position as carefully as possible.

  "This is as close as I can come to it," he said finally.

  Tony nodded and started to get into his diving gear.

  "I wish I were going down with you," Peter said in a low voice.

  "Next time." Tony smiled at him. He was heartily glad that Peter wasn't going down. He hadn't nearly enough experience to go so deep, and besides, Tony wanted to be single-minded for this job.

  He dropped into the water quietly and finned straight down, exerting himself as little as possible and breathing hghtly, in order to conserve the air. When his ears began to hurt, he hesitated for a minute, swallowing his saliva, and then continued.

  After stopping several times to get rid of the pain in his ears, he knew that he must be about ninety feet down and he began to look for the rock ledges which he had hoped to find along here. Visibility was more fimited now. The water was like green dusk. Swarms of small fish were hovering around him curiously.

  But there were no rock ledges. Either his memory of other skin divers' stories had betrayed him—or they were mistaken.

  There was nothing to do but keep on descending. The

  water was colder now and th
e pressure on his ears was getting painful, in spite of his swallowing. Deeper and deeper. . . . The water was purple now, like evening sky. His hand in front of his mask was the dead color of putty.

  Tony had never been so deep before and he began to feel a strange exhilaration. The shadow of an enormous fish hovered just on the fringe of the purple curtain that surrounded him. He waved his hand at it airily and it disappeared.

  Then, suddenly, he was on the bottom. He felt a thrill of triumph. It was surely at least a hundred and sixty feet deep here! He wished that he had asked Mr. Williams to rent a depth gauge and a waterproof watch, along with the other equipment. This odd feeling of exhilaration and dreaminess, which came from being in such deep water, was going to make it difficult to judge the time.

  However, it was too late to worry about that now. The main thing was to find the American's watch—quickly. Tony began finning slowly along the bottom, barely moving his feet, breathing as lightly as he could. In shallower water it would have been easy to see the watch at some distance. It would shine brightly in the refracted sunlight. But down in this purple twilight it was going to be harder.

  He went in ever-widening circles, searching. He had just completed his fourth circle when he became aware of a long, dark silhouette sliding silently past him. A shark! He froze for a moment and it disappeared from sight.

  He was on his sixth circle when he suddenly saw a gleam on the bottom and a moment later, he triumphantly held Mr. Williams' wrist watch in his hand. He had earned two hundred and fifty pesos!

  But his gloating was short-lived. Just as he was about to rise—slowly, because at that depth he knew he would have to pause for frequent periods of decompression-he saw the long form again. It looked enormous, the triangular fin on its back standing up like a sail. Tony had never seen a shark as big as this, and he did not know what kind it was nor how dangerous it might be. It appeared to be at least fifteen feet long. He hesitated for a moment, praying that the monster would go away and leave him in peace. He didn't have time to hang around down here until the animal's curiosity was satisfied!