Pearls

by Mills, Lisa

  When they had assembled all they could carry, they began the vigorous hike through thick forest jungle to the site of an ancient village. Able to see no more than ten feet in any direction, they stumbled over the uneven terrain, blazing a trail through the thick underbrush that competed for space in the rich soil beneath their feet.

  Leafy plants and thorns snagged at their clothes as they pushed through; roots rose up to catch at their feet, as if trying to keep them from secrets hidden deeper in the wilds. The area offered a good place for Rodrigo and Karwa to hide from the slavers. The vegetation was so thick, a man could be hiding in the brush ten feet away and would not be visible.

  Then without warning, they stepped out of the vegetation.

  Smoothed by centuries of weather and use, gray stones crowded together to form a meter-wide path that stretched out a winding line in either direction. A two-foot-high retaining wall formed from the same gray stone ran along one side of the path, holding back a rise of land.

  Manuel stepped onto the lichen-coated rock and studied the handiwork of ancient Indian tribes, admiring the imprint they’d left on the land. He threw a glance at Isabel and smiled at the wonder written on her features. Yes, exploration definitely appealed to her.

  He looked at the GPS he carried and pointed to the left. “We want to go this way.” Digging his thumbs under padded shoulder straps, he adjusted the weight of his pack to a more comfortable position before continuing the hike. Isabel traipsed behind him, the sound of her labored breathing reminding him to temper his eager stride.

  The path sloped gradually for a time, curving and undulating with the flow of the land, but soon they reached the foot of a mountain. The stone path did not end, but simply compensated for the incline, forming a crude staircase that climbed the side of the mountain.

  “Let’s leave our packs here and see how far a climb it is to the terraces. We might be wiser to camp down here closer to our water source. And we won’t have to lug our gear 1,000 feet up the mountainside.”

  She wriggled the pack off her shoulders and lowered it to the ground. “Fine with me. I hate the stair climber at the gym.”

  He dropped his pack beside hers and flashed a grin. “Race you to the top.”

  Manuel ran toward the stone stairs, slowing only to glance back and ensure she was following. Their rubber-soled sneakers created a muted clatter as they rushed up the incline. Manuel defended his lead, pushing to stay a few feet ahead. After a few dozen steps, he felt the effects of the exercise. A minute more and his leg muscles burned with strain. Their ascent slowed to a walk then a painful crawl. He heard Isabel’s ragged breathing close behind him.

  “Manuel,” she groaned.

  He glanced behind him and noticed she’d stopped moving.

  “I concede. You win.” She dusted off a stone step with her hand and sat down, panting.

  Manuel bent over, his hands on his knees, giving his lungs a moment to catch up. When his heart rate slowed and his breathing evened out, he went and sat beside her. “Quite a workout, isn’t it?”

  “How much further?”

  “I think we’re less than a quarter of the way up.”

  She moaned and dropped her face into her hands. “Did I volunteer for this job?”

  “As I recall, you insisted on coming along. Are you sorry?”

  “My thighs are sorry that I’m going to have to climb this hill every day, but overall, I’m really glad I came.” Her expression sobered. “Your work is fascinating, Manuel.”

  He brushed a loose strand of hair off her cheek. “Just my work? What about me?”

  Her gaze flicked over his face, and she laid her hand on his. “Let’s just say I’m liking each new discovery I make.”

  “The thrill of exploration is the best part.”

  She leaned closer to him. “I don’t know about that. This part is pretty exceptional too.” Her lips brushed over his, and his senses jumped to full awareness.

  He reached out to pull her closer, but she slipped through his grasp.

  Laughing, she darted up the steps. “Look who’s in the lead now!”

  He jumped up to follow. “No fair. You conceded defeat.”

  “All’s fair in love and war.”

  He paused on a step and stared at her retreating form, wondering if she realized what she’d just said. Did she love him, or was this another American cliché? He wished he could see her face, search her eyes for the answers to questions he was afraid to ask openly. She still acted skittish at times, as if frightened by the thought of letting him close to her. Maybe he didn’t have the right to expect more than a warm friendship, but the better he got to know her, the more he wanted to know. His resolve to stay single was crumbling as his heart plunged forward, intertwining itself with hers beyond hope of retrieval.

  Sixteen

  The path led Isabel up to higher altitudes of the mountain where the air seemed thinner, making each breath more difficult. She was considering asking Manuel if they could take another rest stop when the trees opened up, and she stepped onto a terrace like the ones she’d seen in pictures. Centuries ago, Indians had cleared a section midway up the mountain and transformed the rough slope into a series of circular platforms that ascended like giant steps. A stone retaining wall fortified the edge of each grass-covered level. Stone-lined ditches and underground sluices ran along the ridges to keep the water from eroding the terraces.

  The place had a timeless quality that captivated her. Bending, she touched one of the rocks and felt the warmth of the sun radiating from the smooth pink-tinged stone. A tap on her shoulder made her glance up.

  “Take a look at this.” Manuel gestured to a point behind her shoulder.

  She turned and caught her breath at the beautiful scenery. Green mountain peaks and shadowed valleys stretched as far as the eye could see. Low-slung clouds lingered so close overhead that Isabel felt the urge to reach up and try to touch one.

  Magnificently grand, the view humbled Isabel with its majesty. “This explains how Rodrigo drew that topographical map so accurately. It’s a stunning view.”

  They stood in silent awe for a moment.

  Isabel sighed. “I think I’ll sit down. My legs are tired.” She walked to a meter-high wall bordering the next terrace and found a comfortable perch. Manuel followed and dropped onto a rock a few feet away.

  “Aside from the view, what do you suppose influenced the tribe to build so high on the mountain? I can’t imagine this location was convenient for the Indians.”

  Manuel smiled. “From a military standpoint, it’s a highly defensible position.”

  “I should think so. No doubt, the enemy was ready to drop from exhaustion by the time they climbed to this height. I know I am.”

  He chuckled. “Since the rain at this altitude is sufficient for agriculture, the Indians grew food on these terraces. There are settlements like these all over the mountains, connected by the stone paths and stairs. Some of the larger colonies supported as many as 3,000 people.”

  Isabel studied the area. “I can’t believe it’s still here after so many centuries. Erosion hasn’t impacted the landscape much, if at all.”

  “The tribes who built these were incredible engineers. Some of the modern coffee plantations that plant in the higher altitudes have tried to reproduce this kind of construction, but they haven’t been able to build anything that compares with what the Indians accomplished.”

  “How long do you think it will take us to search this area?” Isabel cast a skeptical look around. More than twenty terraces sprawled across the mountain side, making for a large search grid.

  “The ground-penetrating radar equipment is fairly efficient. I think we can cover one or two terraces a day. But I suspect this direct sun will make us uncomfortable if we work during the heat of the day. I suggest we hike up here first thing in the morning and work until lunch. Then we’ll spend the warm afternoon hours in the valley looking for that well Rodrigo mentioned.”

  Isa
bel nodded. “Judging by the quality of the Indians’ work here, I expect we’ll find the well intact.”

  “Ready to hike down?”

  Isabel pushed to her feet, weary but willing. “I guess we better get moving if we hope to get the camp set up and settled by nightfall.”

  As she walked toward the stone stairway, Isabel’s legs felt like noodles. After backpacking the gear from the jeeps, her back and arms would probably offer some complaint, as well. No doubt her limbs would be stiff and sore in the morning. Despite the discomforts, she had no desire to abandon the search. In fact, she had never felt more exhilarated. She didn’t think of herself as an explorer or adventurer, but after a week of trekking the wilds, she couldn’t imagine anyplace she’d rather be.

  ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

  Isabel stepped from her tent several mornings later, glad to leave its close confines. She slept well in the small tent, but it seemed claustrophobic when she was awake and trying to move around. She lifted her hands over her head and indulged in a languorous stretch, thankful the soreness she’d experienced the first few days had subsided.

  Often when she awoke, Manuel was already busy fixing breakfast, his close shave and fresh clothes making him look as if he’d been up for hours. Today, the camp appeared empty. She peeked into the larger tent they used as a workstation and storage area for their supplies and equipment, but it sat empty and quiet. A few feet beyond the main tent, the flap on his sleeping tent hung open, hinting that he’d risen before her and set out on his own.

  Rather than wait for him, she decided to go to the stream and wash up. She grabbed her bag of personal items and headed for the designated “facilities.”

  Along the way, she spotted Manuel sitting on a large rock jutting from the mountainside. Its smooth surface provided a tempting, if unusual, place to sit. A book lay across his lap, and when he shifted, the sun glinted off the gold-leafed pages. A Bible. Before he could look up and see her, Isabel turned away, feeling as though she’d intruded on a private moment.

  She’d seen him perched on the rock once before, reading and meditating on the scripture. Seeing his devotion filled her with guilt. When had she stopped taking time for God each day? At some point during the hectic move from the United States to Venezuela, she’d forgotten about the peace, strength, and direction God offered to those who would come and sit with Him daily.

  Her spiritual life had suffered neglect for years, and no doubt, this contributed to her lack of judgment where Raúl was concerned. Even though she now realized her error, she’d done nothing to correct the problem or ensure she wouldn’t repeat the same mistake again. She hadn’t change her habits or sought healing for the reason she’d made the poor decisions in the first place. She sensed God tugging at her heart. Maybe the time had come for her to renew her own commitment.

  After washing up, Isabel returned to her tent and pulled out her worn Bible. As she opened to a Psalm and began to read, a comforting presence wrapped around her like a blanket, and she felt the joy of returning home.

  ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

  Before the trip, Isabel had never seen radar equipment that scanned underground. Now, after four days of working the machinery, she felt like a seasoned expert. At first, the images she’d viewed on the monitor looked like confusing blobs to her. Manuel had taught her to see the images, lines, and shapes in the sonar feedback displayed on the screen. Some pottery, a hammer-like tool, and an eating utensil had appeared on the screen over the last few days. Each discovery amazed her, helping her better understand Manuel’s passion for his career.

  She and Manuel finished their breakfast and climbed to the terraces to begin another day’s search. They’d started with the highest terrace and were working their way down, fully scanning each level before moving down to the next one. Because of the cumbersome weight of the equipment, they left it on the terraces each night instead of hauling it up and down the long staircase.

  Isabel pulled at the tarp draped over the supplies and began to uncover their equipment. When she realized Manuel hadn’t joined her, she turned to find him staring into the distance, a frown creasing his handsome features.

  She followed his line of vision and tried to identify what had drawn his attention. “What are you looking at?”

  He pointed into the distant sky. “See that? Is it smoke?”

  She tipped her head and studied the faint gray curl hovering over the treetops. “Yes, I think so. Probably some other campers making their breakfast or maybe someone lives on this mountain. The area isn’t completely isolated, is it?”

  “No. I imagine a few people live out here.”

  “They wouldn’t have electricity this far out, would they?”

  “Probably not.”

  “Smoke from a campfire or stove isn’t so unusual then, is it?”

  “Maybe.” Manuel looked unconvinced and continued to study the smoke curl. “But last night the smoke was further west. Residents wouldn’t be moving around.”

  A chill swept through Isabel, making the roots of her hair tingle and stand on end. Was it the man who’d burned her apartment then waited for her along the road out of Caracas? Maybe she had seen him in Santo Domingo, but why would he follow her across the country? She could not fathom any motive to justify the extreme behavior.

  “I’m sure it’s nothing to worry about.” Her voice sounded strangely calm. She turned her back to the distant fire, but as they went about their daily routine, the ominous curl of smoke never left her thoughts.

  ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

  The bristly rope pricked Isabel’s palms, but she refused to loosen her grip. She vowed to have a thorough mental evaluation upon her return to Caracas because no sane woman would agree to put herself in the precarious position in which she now hung—literally.

  “How you doing down there?” Manuel’s steady voice bounced over the stones, taking on a hollow ring before it reached her ears.

  Isabel rolled her eyes and resisted the urge to say something snide. “Fine. Can you lower me more quickly, please? This harness isn’t very comfortable.”

  She heard him chuckle, but the rate of her descent did increase. Why she’d let him talk her into being lowered into the old well was a mystery. Maybe the warmth that radiated from his eyes or the way his mustache twitched when something amused him had influenced her decision. She’d remember not to look him directly in the face the next time he proposed something outrageous.

  “Can you see the bottom yet?” Manuel called to her. “I’m running out of rope up here.”

  “Oh, that’s comforting.” She aimed her flashlight downward and leaned to see if anything materialized in the dark abyss. The change in position caused her to sway, and she instinctively reached out to brace a hand against the stones lining the circular wall of the well. Her fingers slipped on the slimy rock, and she cringed. Moving carefully, she took another hesitant look down.

  “My light is reflecting off the water table. I’m almost as low as I can go without getting wet, but I can’t tell you how deep the water is.”

  “I’ll lower you a few more feet. Holler when you’re almost touching the water.”

  Isabel clung to the rope as he worked the manual winch, which allowed him to handle her suspended weight with ease.

  “Stop! My feet are just about to get drenched.”

  “Can you see the bottom now?”

  She aimed her light into the water, but the beam was absorbed after only a few feet.

  “No, I’m sorry. It must be deep.”

  “Let’s find out how deep. I’m going to tie something heavy to the end of another rope. You lower the weight into the water until it stops sinking then mark the waterline on the rope. We’ll measure from the weight to the mark and get a depth.”

  “Okay. That sounds like it will work.”

  “I need to find a weight. I’ll be right back.”

  The sound at the top of the well ceased and, except for the creak of the rope, Isabel waited in silence. The rope sling chafed her hips a
nd thighs, and she shifted to relieve some of the discomfort.

  A shadow moved across the top of the well accompanied by the sound of scuffling. She glance up into the point of light at the top of the tunnel and saw the glint of sun on metal.

  “Manuel?”

  Suddenly, the rope went slack, and Isabel dropped into the icy water, the impact plunging her under the surface. She righted herself and gave a powerful kick, thrusting herself to the top. When her head emerged, the length of rope that had held her aloft wrapped itself around her shoulders and arms. The harness tied around her midsection slid downward and tangled her legs. She coughed and choked, trying to clear the water from her throat. Her thrashing entangled her in the rope, and her heavy shoes and clothes began to suck her down.

  “Manuel!”

  No answer.

  Panic flooded through her, and Isabel wrestled against the dangerous restraints tangling around her. She sank into the dark water and fought her way to the surface again, desperation overtaking her senses.

  “Isabel?”

  She heard Manuel’s horrified yell but couldn’t call to him. Keeping her face above water long enough to breathe took all the effort she could muster.

  He must have heard her thrashing because he continued to yell down to her.

  “Isabel, I brought another rope. When I drop it down, you grab on.”

  He kept talking, but her splashing and frequent dips under the surface muffled his instructions. She worked to free a hand from the tangle, wondering how she would find the strength to hold onto the rope long enough to reach the top of the well. She pushed away the frightening thought and forced herself to relax and think.

  She stopped fighting the ropes winding around her limbs and worked instead on freeing herself from their hold. When she forced her legs to still, the harness slowly drifted down to her shoes. Fluttering her feet, she freed her legs. Able to tread water more easily, powerful kicks kept her afloat while she untangled her arms. Almost free, she felt something brush against her head. She startled then realized it was the rope Manuel had sent down. Relief flooded through her as she grabbed hold of her connection to the surface.