Ana’s fingers traced the lines of his hand, which made him relax into his seat. He wondered how she knew what to do to calm him. He was thankful she was with him. Right now. One minute he wished she had stayed home and the next, he was happy she was by his side.
The van slowed as they turned off the highway and Chance slid forward to try to get a better view. As they drove along the narrow road, he felt blood rush through his tense body and he pinched his lips together.
Ana’s eyes sparked with excitement. “Almost there.”
On the heels of her comment, Miguel switched on his microphone and turned to his passengers. “We will be at Ek Balam momentarily. We will park and then you will get to view this beautiful city with your own eyes. I will give you a tour and then you will have time to explore by yourself. You will have the freedom to explore the grounds, unlike the tourists at Chichen Itza, but please do not wander into the forest. There may yet be more ruins to find in our jungles but we wish for our guests to stay safe.”
The couple in the back seat started shuffling around, gathering up their things. Chance lifted his backpack onto his lap. Ana did the same and rested her cheek to the sack as she hugged it.
“How are you doing? You feeling okay?” Chance asked, noting faint bags under her eyes once again.
She shrugged and grinned weakly. “Yeah, I’m okay. Just a little tired after the long night.”
“Let me know at any point if you need to rest.”
A muffled chiming noise came from her pocket and she extracted her phone. After she glanced at it, she slapped her hand to her forehead. “Oh, I never called Mom. Looks like I’ve missed a couple calls from her. I’m not getting good reception here. I’ll try texting her when we’re done with the tour.”
The driver pulled onto a short driveway and into a small parking lot. Miguel jumped from his seat and opened the sliding door for his passengers. Ana stepped out first and Chance followed close behind. They flung their backpacks over their shoulders as their tour guide held his hands up and said, “You may keep your packs in the van if you wish. The driver will remain with the vehicle.”
“Oh, no thanks. We prefer keeping our things with us.” Chance replied.
The other couple climbed from the van, stretched, and slipped their cameras around their necks. Miguel clapped his hands together and bobbed on his heals. “Are you ready to learn about Ek Balam? Let us go!”
He had them wait for a few minutes as he went to pay for their tickets and returned ready to lead them, beckoning them forward. Chance noticed there weren’t many people around, only a few tourists and locals milling along the trail.
The peaceful quiet was interrupted by Miguel’s cheerful voice. “It is a pleasure to introduce you to Ek Balam, otherwise known as the Black Jaguar city.”
Chance’s spine tingled as the words soaked in. Miguel led them along a dirt path tinged orange from the clay soil. Tall, wiry trees rose above them, providing patchy cover from the ascending sun. Its rays touched Chance’s skin, kissing it with warmth yet the heat didn’t feel stifling, as he’d expected.
“Excuse me, Miguel. I heard it was supposed to be really hot inland.”
Without turning, their guide said, “Oh, yes. During the summer months, it is quite hard for most tourists to bear. It’s away from the ocean breeze. But you are visiting us at the perfect time—in between the hot and the rainy seasons.”
As he followed behind Ana, Chance sensed the wildlife around them, watching from behind the trees and bushes, peering at them as they passed by. “The Mayan people’s most respected tree is the Ceiba tree. If you look up you will see the umbrella shaped crowns. Their fruit has a fiber in it like cotton that was used to make clothing. It is also used as a medicine plant, and is considered to have a connection to all three levels of the universe: the heavens, home to the gods; earth, where all living things exist; and lastly, the underworld, where the dead roam.”
Miguel gestured to his side and some broad leafy trees. “And these are Copal trees. The Maya use their resin as incense in ceremonies and rituals. It is very sacred to them. Maize was also very important. You may know it as corn. Although it cannot be found at the ruins now, the surrounding villages do still grow it. It has always been an important food source to the Maya, and Mayan folklore says the gods created us out of maize. Here we are.”
As they emerged from the forest, they passed by a broken stone wall and into a grassy section. Large structures rose ahead of them and Chance marveled at their condition.
“This is the outer wall, which was not thought to be protection, but was built for ceremonial reasons. You will also see the ‘white roads’ that lead into the city. The Maya traveled at night to avoid the heat, so they created roads made of crushed shells and limestone that glowed white in the dark.” Miguel walked past the low wall and into a center clearing.
“Many of the buildings were first built around three hundred to one hundred BC. At the city’s population height, somewhere around nine hundred AD, it mysteriously shrank to a tiny fraction of what it was in the post-classical period, like so many other Maya cities. No one knows why. It is a mystery.”
Miguel pointed to a set of buildings and said, “These are known as ‘The Twins’. Two mirroring temples. And to the center, we have the oval palace.”
Chance was disappointed. Nothing Miguel had pointed out looked familiar. He’d been waiting—hoping—to recognize something from one of his grandfather’s memories. Panic set in as he considered the possibility he had led them in the wrong direction. What if we’re in the wrong place? But his grandfather’s note had specified Ek Balam.
While their guide spoke animatedly about the once great Mayan city, Ana’s soft voice carried to his ears. “Don’t worry, Chance. We’ll find him. Try to enjoy yourself.”
Her lips grazed his shoulder and he glanced down at her, his own eyes meeting her sparkling green ones, and his anxiety subsided. “We are in Mexico. Mexico, Chance.”
He nodded and dropped his head. Noises from the jungle engulfed his senses. Miguel’s accented voice faded away, replaced by chattering sounds from nearby monkeys and percussion from the leaves and foliage. With each breath he took, the living habitat around him sighed in rhythm. He felt his grandfather with him in that moment, encouraging his meditative state.
A familiar floral scent breezed past his nose and he lifted his head. Ana’s back was to him as she followed behind their tour guide. Their small group began climbing up a tall series of steps. The pyramid-like structure rose high above the trees. Chance darted to catch up, and took only seconds to join Ana. He placed a kiss on her warm shoulder.
“This is the Acropolis. It is one of the tallest pyramids in the Yucatán. Ek Balam flourished for around one thousand years, when most other Mayan cities only peaked for less than ten years. This was an important Mayan epicenter. As we work our way up—” Miguel panted and continued “—you will notice thatched roofs, which protect the stucco sculptures from the rain and sun. It is rare to find stucco sculptures. These are intact because over a thousand years ago, when Chichen Itza became such a large important cultural center, the Maya buried the Acropolis to preserve it.”
Miguel led them under an awning and into the shade. His mouth opened into a bright smile as he bobbed on his heels. “This is the tomb of Ek Balam’s greatest leaders. It’s known as ‘The Throne’ and the jaguar altar. The doorway is an opened jaguar’s mouth—you can see the teeth there.” He pointed proudly.
Large rounded white stones pointed upward, and appeared just like a gaping maw. Hieroglyphs were carved into the pale stone that surrounded a dark doorway at the center. Chance’s eyes caught on winged figures that stood on pedestals and he pointed them out to Ana.
Miguel noticed and said, “You will see Mayan winged warriors, or guardians, protecting their king. They are a rare find. Archeologists haven’t found many Mayan angels.”
Chance let his eyes comb over the vines and trees that encroached the long de
serted city while they slowly moved up the stairs. Finally they reached the top that overlooked the vast jungle.
“On a clear day you can see Coba and Chichen Itza from the top of this tower. You may also notice trees covering mounds throughout the jungle. They are unexcavated ruins.”
As the tour concluded, their guide invited them to explore alone. Ana and Chance stayed at the top of the pyramid and sat on the steps, side by side.
“Now what?” Chance said. “I almost thought it would be easy. Like I would have a memory or Balam would step out of the jungle and introduce himself.”
His shoulders dropped as he flicked a pebble with his finger and watched it tumble down the stone steps.
Ana squinted in the light and pinched her lips together. “I’m not sure. But, I don’t think you should give up after one try. I know we’re close. We’re closer than we were in Idaho.”
She stood, wiped dirt off her backside and started down the stairs. Glancing back at him, she cocked her eyebrow and asked, “You coming? Let’s see about getting some real Mexican food. I don’t know about you but I could eat.”
As soon as she mentioned food, his stomach growled hungrily. “Yeah, that sounds good. Guess thinking on an empty stomach won’t get me far.”
Ana went down the steps two at a time, and Chance sped past her, laughing when he got to the bottom. It took her a few minutes to catch up and they walked back down the path to the entrance of the ruins. The parking lot only had a few cars in it and they stopped to glance around in an effort to spot any locals.
A young man around their age was just stepping away from the ticket booth in the direction of the road when Chance jogged ahead and called out. “Señor, excuse me!”
The dark haired man turned to face them and Ana scurried forward with a shy expression. He grinned apprehensively back at them and his cheek dimpled. Chance listened as Ana spoke easily in Spanish. He was impressed with how quickly she’d settled into the job of interpreter. Although she wasn’t fluent, it was obvious she had an ear for language. She had no difficulty asking about finding authentic Mexican food. With a modest wave of the hand, she indicated him and said, “Dónde podemos conseguir comida Mexicana auténtica?”
Chance watched as the stranger’s eyes lingered at the neck of his shirt. Ana seemed to notice as well and she touched the jade jaguar pendant that hung around his neck. “Estamos buscando familia. Un hombre que se llama Balam.”
The man nodded and said, “Hola, mi nombre es Dario. Vengan conmigo.”
Ana said to Chance, “His name’s Dario and I told him we’re looking for a man named Balam.”
Chance and Ana introduced themselves, shook his hand and he started walking, waving at them to follow.
“He wants us to follow him. Shouldn’t we tell Miguel we aren’t sticking around?” Ana asked as she scanned the entrance and parking lot for their guide.
Chance indicated the white van they came in. Their driver sat under a tree near the vehicle, eating his lunch.
Ana called out to their new acquaintance. “Un momento por favor, Dario.”
Chance walked Ana over to the resting driver and waited as she communicated to him their plans. At first, he seemed to be confused, but then he looked over to Dario, who was waiting for them at the edge of the lot and he gave a single nod.
As they jogged to catch up with Dario, Ana said under her breath, “What about later? A place to stay?”
“I saw some hotels not too far back in that town we passed. We’ll just get a taxi or pay someone to take us there. But hopefully we’ll find Balam instead.” Although Chance was starting to doubt they would ever find him.
When they got to Dario, he turned around to give another dimpled grin, but this time it was directed at Ana. Chance was relieved that she seemed oblivious of his attention. Dario mumbled something Chance couldn’t understand and started down the gravel road. His lanky body moved ahead of them at a quick pace. Chance stared at his back while they walked behind him and he opened up his senses. Besides the sounds of the birds and bustling wildlife, he sensed nothing to alarm him. He decided they must not be in danger and let worry fall to the wayside.
After about fifteen minutes of walking, Chance checked in with Ana, who had kept up with his pace the whole time. Her fingers gripped her backpack as she leaned forward in a rhythmic walk, but she looked pale. “You holding up okay?”
A ring of sweat encircled her forehead and her muscles flexed with effort. Her emerald eyes crinkled as she cleared her throat. “I dunno. I thought I was hungry earlier, but I think my stomachache is coming back. Maybe water will help.”
She reached behind her and slipped a water bottle out of the mesh side pocket of her pack.
Dario noticed they stopped, turned around and walked back to them. He said something to Ana, who responded and rubbed her stomach. Their conversation ended and he touched her elbow with a sympathetic frown.
“He says it’s just a little further and that his grandmother’s a healer. She should be able to help me,” Ana said when Chance looked at her questioningly.
After another ten long minutes of walking—more slowly now—some narrow roads and modest buildings came into view. Dario pointed ahead once more. Chance hoped they were close because Ana wasn’t holding up very well.
Their guide turned down a dusty road and his pace picked up. A gathering of people came into view and soon Dario disappeared into the crowd. They were all clothed in white and Chance noted that none of the men or women had on shoes. As they welcomed the newest arrival into the fold, words of greeting were exclaimed and then a hush fell as they noticed the two unfamiliar faces.
Chapter 15
Ana’s stomach rumbled nervously as she stepped back toward Chance, who moved forward to block her from view. Although she was the one with bilingual skills, she was happy to let him take the lead in this new situation.
The assembly stared at them and Ana felt like a shiny pimple at the end of a nose. Dario reemerged and said a few words and the sea of people stepped forward with hands outstretched.
“Hola, muchas gracias.” Chance stammered as a particularly jovial man slapped him on the back.
Ana had never been surrounded by so many welcoming strangers before. She felt awkward, standing around in her travel clothes in an ocean of white and cream. Her cheeks flushed as she realized they must have come while they were celebrating a special occasion. Hands touched her back and she turned to find a pair of chocolate brown eyes staring up at her. A little girl stood with her face turned up in wide-eyed fascination.
She whispered a greeting to the child, who giggled and slipped her soft delicate fingers into Ana’s hand. They were led into a clearing and Dario walked up to an old woman and whispered in her ear. Her eyes combed over Ana, then Chance, and hesitated at the pendant around his neck.
When the woman walked up to them, Ana was struck by her creased hazel eyes and the purity reflected back at her. Waves of charcoal hair wove around the older woman’s head. Her dark, wrinkled skin was supple up close, not leathery as Ana would have imagined. The elderly woman said something that didn’t sound quite like Spanish.
Stomach cramps revisited her, and memories of the previous night gave her cold sweats. The woman noticed Ana grasp her side.
“Where is your pain?”
Unable to stop holding her breath, Ana pointed at her abdomen. The elderly woman touched Ana’s forehead and promptly walked off.
Chance wrapped his arm around her and asked, “Is it getting worse, Ana? We should’ve stayed at the hotel. I knew you weren’t better. Do you think they have a doctor around here?”
“No, I think help’s coming.” She grimaced while clinging to his shirt.
Minutes later the old woman’s familiar face settled in front of her, and she held out a cup filled with a cloudy drink.
Chance took the cup from her hands. “What is it?”
He sniffed at it and eyed the elderly woman while Ana asked the question again, bu
t this time in Spanish. The woman kept her gaze on Ana and said, “It will help your stomachache. It is medicine—it will make you feel better. Please.” She guided the cup to Ana, who clutched it tightly.
“I don’t know, Ana. Who is this woman? We don’t even know what’s in the cup.” Chance peered at the drink with a frown.
Ana lifted the cup to her nose and took a deep breath. The citrus-y smell seemed harmless enough, but there really was no telling. Not unless she drank it. Ana stared at the deeply lined face of the elderly woman before her and made a decision. She would trust her. Without hesitation, she lifted the drink to her lips. Lemon flavored water washed through her mouth and she gulped it down fast. The wave of liquid hit her churning stomach acids and she could almost imagine the licking flames of a fire being put out. She emptied the cup and handed it back to the woman, who patted her hand.
“Are you okay? You’d tell me if you felt worse, right?” Chance moved in closer, protectively. He wrapped his arms around her and she leaned against him for support. Ana nodded, sank into his warm body and let the drink take effect. To her relief, over the course of a few minutes, the pain subsided.
“Good? Yes?” the woman asked in Spanish.
Ana nodded. “Much better. Thank you so much for your help. My name is Ana, and this is Chance.”
“I am Grandmother Sanchia.” Her eyes traced their faces and she said to Ana, “I am glad you are well.”
Ana faced the plump woman. “How did you make…” She paused, unsure what the word for remedy was and said, instead, “Drink.”
Sanchia’s chin lifted with pride and she spoke so fast, Ana’s mind reeled. Half of what tumbled from the woman’s mouth, Ana barely understood. From what she gathered, the woman’s mother was a healer and had taught her everything she knew. The town had no doctor, but she was called on to provide natural remedies for the sick. However, this was only a small amount she was able to understand. Ana must have worn a puzzled expression, because Sanchia stopped rattling on and then grasped her hand. A frown crossed her face and she appeared confused for a moment. Then she said, with excitement in her voice, “I will show you. But first, you eat.”
Prodigy Page 9
