Native Tongue

by Shannon Greenland

  “They burn special spices that ward off the bugs,” Guillermo answered.

  Oh, thank God.

  Guillermo gave his horse a gentle nudge, and we were on our way again. The small lamp he carried gave us a dim yellow glow to navigate by. And as the minutes ticked by, I became used to the jungle’s nighttime opera.

  No one spoke as we rode along. No one could speak with the noise. The darkness seemed to get even darker, if that were possible. Seconds ticked into minutes and at least another hour went by. When would we be there? Hadn’t Guillermo said it would be only a couple of hours way back at the Land Rover?

  “How much longer?” Parrot called through the night.

  I smiled as that question brought a sudden memory of my parents to my mind. I’d been five, and my parents and I were in a car. Dad was driving, and Mom was in the passenger seat. I didn’t remember where we were going, but I was restless and couldn’t wait to get there.

  “How much longer?” I’d whined with excitement.

  “’Bout another fifteen minutes,” my dad replied.

  Fifteen minutes went by.

  “How much longer?” I asked again, fidgeting with my seat belt.

  “’Bout another fifteen minutes,” my dad replied.

  And on it went, fifteen minutes going by, me asking my dad, and my dad answering the same way. We probably drove for hours having that exact conversation. My dad had either been incredibly patient or truly enjoying my excited misery.

  I sighed through my smile, enjoying the bone-deep warmth that came with a memory of my parents. I reached down and rubbed Diablo, just needing some contact and touch.

  A flashing flame in the distance brought my attention back to the present. I squinted and made out a few lights scattered through the thick foliage. I kept my eyes peeled to the flickering glow as we drew closer. I saw some sort of hut come into view, and then another, and another.

  Diablo followed Guillermo and his horse through a maze of enormous plants, and then we stepped into a clearing. And it was like stepping back into another century.

  Fires surrounded by stone barriers flickered throughout the village in no particular order. A large circular-shaped thatched-roof hut occupied the center of the clearing. So large I estimated it could hold approximately fifty people. Tall, flaming torches marked the north, south, east, and west corners of the hut. Smaller, triangular-shaped huts dotted the landscape around the larger one, and a few square ones scattered the area as well.

  Although I couldn’t see well through the dim light put off by the fires and torches, it appeared as if each hut had a small garden in the back.

  An opening on each of those triangular dwellings signified its entrance. Other than that, there were no openings in the straw structures. The square ones, however, had no walls at all, only thatched roofs. At such a late hour, it stood to reason the place sat quiet and still. Everyone was probably asleep.

  A movement off to the left drew my attention, and I watched as a dark-haired man walked straight across the clearing without a glance in our direction. With his neatly combed hair, khaki pants, white shirt, and boots, he looked to be in his early twenties. Maybe a college student? An open book in hand, completely oblivious to his surroundings, he pushed his metal-rimmed glasses up as he read and continued marching across the village.

  I almost laughed. I hadn’t expected to see a studious little nerd reading a book in the middle of a jungle.

  Guillermo urged his horse forward, and we followed. Silently, the four of us filed into the nighttime clearing. Diablo did his vibrating-lip, gush-of-air-out-of-his-mouth thing, and the sound ricocheted through the night.

  The nerd jerked at the intrusion and whipped around. His book went one way and his glasses the other. He stood there for a second in shock, staring at us coming toward him. I realized then what we must look like, soaked through from sweat and the humidity, with dried brown termite guts all over our skin and hair I’d probably run screaming in the opposite direction if I saw us.

  The nerd gave his head a quick shake, and I watched with amusement as he scrambled to pick up his book and glasses. He blew the dust from his lenses and slipped them on, then went back to staring at us.

  His mannerisms reminded me . . . of me.

  Huh.

  Guillermo brought his horse to a stop right in front of the nerd and said something in Spanish.

  “I’m sorry. I don’t speak Spanish,” the nerd responded.

  Yep, definitely reminded me of me.

  “My name is Guillermo. This is Hannah,” he introduced, nodding to me, “Flint, and Shane. We’re here for the talks.”

  The nerd’s face brightened. “Oh! Right! Right!” He pushed his glasses up his nose. “I’m Professor Quirk. I’m the resident expert on the cave drawings.”

  I blinked. “You’re the professor?” I’d imagined him a lot older. “But you’re so young.”

  Professor Quirk looked right at me. “And your purpose here is . . . ?” he asked with a bit of playfulness to his tone.

  “I’m here as your quote/unquote assistant. I’m the computer specialist.”

  “You’re the computer specialist?” He blinked. “But you’re so young.”

  I narrowed my eyes. “Touché.”

  Behind his wire-rimmed glasses, he imitated my narrowed eyes.

  So this was the guy I’d be holed up with in a cave for the next week. I wonder how that’s going to go.

  Professor Quirk pointed to the other side of the clearing. “You can corral your horses over there.” He directed our attention to the triangular-shaped huts bordering the left side of the clearing. “Those first two are for single men.” Then he indicated the ones bordering the right of the clearing. “First two over here are for single women. All the other huts are for the families. This big one in the middle is the ceremonial one. It’s where the talks will take place.”

  Guillermo nodded. “Thanks.”

  “No problem. See you all tomorrow.” With that, Professor Quirk turned and continued on his path.

  Guillermo led the way through the clearing toward the other side where some horses stood corralled. As we passed the huts, I peeked into the openings but saw only darkness inside. I wished there was another girl with me so I wouldn’t have to go into the “single-women” hut by myself. At least Parrot had Jonathan and Guillermo.

  We came to a stop at the corral, and all three guys swung their legs over the saddle and effortlessly slid from their horses. I pulled my boots from the stirrups, lifted my right leg to swing it over the saddle, and instantaneously felt a cramp. “Ohhh.”

  Grimacing, I dragged my leg the rest of the way over the saddle and plunked down to the dirt. My legs immediately began to spasm. “Oh, my God.” I grabbed my thigh and massaged it.

  The guys unhooked our bags from the horses. They took the saddles and harnesses off. They lined up all the gear along the corral and led the horses inside the gate. They did all this while I continued crouching, massaging my legs. How they could move, I had no idea. One of them might have to carry me to my hut.

  Parrot grabbed my stuff and came over to me. “Walk it off. You’ll feel a lot better in a minute.”

  As Guillermo led my horse away, I took my first steps, gritting my teeth at the ache.

  A few seconds into my hobbling, Parrot came to an abrupt stop. I glanced up at him first, and then followed his line of sight across the clearing.

  There in the doorway of the huge center hut, lit by one of the torches, stood a beefy man with a Mohawk and a tattooed chin. His face held hardness, his eyes stoic darkness.

  “Talon,” Parrot whispered.

  [8]

  Through The darkness I stared at Talon as he looked back at us. In the past year I’d been with the Specialists I’d seen some real scary bad guys. Talon stood short and squatty, and even from the distance I saw the evil in him. This was one man not to mess with.

  Standing beside me, Parrot made no move. I could almost feel the fear vib
rating off him.

  Jonathan stepped up behind us. “You’re in disguise,” he reminded Parrot. “Talon has no idea who you are.”

  Parrot barely nodded his comprehension.

  Guillermo strode past us. “Come on. Let’s call it a night.”

  Carrying our duffel bags and backpacks, we made our way through the village, crossing to the side of Talon, who still stood in the entryway to the big circular hut. In my peripheral vision, I saw Parrot keep his vision glued to the ground. I chanced a glance at Talon and saw him staring right at Parrot.

  Was it possible he recognized him?

  No way. I barely even recognized him.

  We came to a stop at the first triangular-shaped hut, one of the two that Professor Quirk designated as the “single-men” hut. Guillermo crouched to step inside.

  “Wait.” I stopped him. “What about me?” Weren’t they going to walk me to my hut? Granted, it sat right on the other side of the clearing, but still.

  Guillermo glanced up. “Sorry. Single men aren’t allowed to go near the single-women huts after nightfall. You’ll be fine.” With that, he disappeared into the straw structure.

  Single men couldn’t go near single women? What was this, the 1800s?

  I turned to Jonathan, hoping he’d have something better to say.

  He merely nodded. “Guillermo’s right. You’ll be fine.”

  “B-but how do I know which hut?” Were they kidding me? This was ridiculous.

  “Professor Quirk said the first two are designated for single women,” Jonathan said.

  “Yes. Still, what do I do? Do I look inside of one and if it’s packed go to the next one? Do I find an empty spot on the ground inside? Is there a cot? A hammock? My God, am I going to get a blanket? A sheet? What if there’s nothing nowhere? Do I sleep outside? What about wild animals? Should I find some more of that termite stuff? What if—”

  Jonathan put his hand on my shoulder, much like TL did when I slipped into one of my hysterical, neurotic moments. “Calm. Down. You. Will. Be. Fine.” Carefully Jonathan enunciated each word, probably so they could sink into my overloaded brain. “Peek your head inside the first hut. If you don’t see a place to sleep, then go to the second hut. There will be a bed for you in one or the other, I promise. It may be a hammock. It may be a blanket on the floor. I don’t know, but there will be something. I promise.”

  He gave my shoulder a little shake. “Did you understand everything I said?”

  I blew out a shaky breath, knowing I was acting ridiculous. “Yes.”

  “Good. We’ll see you in the morning.” Jonathan ducked into the single-men hut, leaving me alone with Parrot.

  He had to be tied up in knots, yet I was the one freaking over a stupid hut. “How are you?” I asked, reaching for him.

  Parrot didn’t respond to my touch. With a face void of emotion, he nodded across the clearing. “Go ahead. I’ll stand here and make sure you’re okay.”

  “Do you want to tal—”

  “Go ahead,” he interrupted me, making it more than obvious he didn’t want to talk.

  With a sigh, I turned and made my way through the darkness across the clearing to the single-women huts. Halfway there, I glanced over my shoulder to make sure Parrot still stood there. Sure enough, he did. As much as I absolutely adored him, this moment made me appreciate him even more. This was all I needed. Someone to watch me and make sure I would be okay. He’d recognized that.

  David would’ve recognized that, too.

  I reached the first hut and ducked inside. It took a few seconds for my pupils to adjust to the dark. In the dimness I made out hammocks hanging randomly throughout the space. Squinting my eyes, I ran my gaze over each sleeping hammock occupant and located an empty one in the back.

  I peeked my head back out the opening, exchanged an “I’m okay” wave with Parrot, and then meandered through the sleeping bodies to the back.

  I didn’t bother changing or cleaning up at all—I was thoroughly exhausted. I just dropped my things, climbed into the hammock, and stretched out. I lay there, staring up at the thatched roof, idly listening to the heavy breaths and soft snores of the other women.

  I inhaled deeply and picked up a woodsy-spicy smell. I willed myself to sleep, but thoughts of the day occupied my mind. The jungle, horseback riding, bugs, Guillermo, the Land Rover, security, the sketch . . . Who was that woman? I felt confident she and the agent I had spoken to on my last mission were one and the same. But who was that agent?

  I rolled over in my hammock, closed my eyes, and my mind drifted to David. . . . I wished so much he was here.

  A gentle touch TO My shoulder made my eyes flutter open. A girl about my age stood above me, softly smiling down. I blinked a few times before focusing in on her olive skin, shiny straight black hair, and unique light blue eyes.

  “You’re Jaaci,” I said, realizing she was the Junoesquean girl who had walked from the jungle carrying the Mother Nature vase. She was the whole reason we were here.

  Nodding, she took a step back, and I swung my legs over the side of the hammock. I took a second to look around the hut now that daylight had come.

  Bamboo poles had been tied together and used as supports for the thatch walls and ceiling. Bushels of fruit and vegetables hung on ropes from the bamboo poles. Seeing the bananas made my stomach growl.

  Rough, splintery boards lined the walls. Personal items had been placed on them, things like clothes, small boxes, bowls with jewelry, blankets, baskets with beads, and strips of cloth.

  As I watched, a half dozen tribal women busied themselves unhooking hammocks, rolling them, and storing them on the boards next to the other personal items. The women were all dressed the same, in colorful, lightweight, knee-length dresses with leather sandals. They all had black hair worn in a long braid. Some wore jewelry, some had bright tattoos on their ankles or wrists, and most looked to be in their teens or early twenties.

  “Axw xaqu xe foxlu,” Jaaci said.

  I scrunched my face. “Do you speak English, by any chance?”

  Jaaci shook her head and shrugged, obviously having no idea what I’d asked.

  She held out a small a box containing a bar of soap, a rag, and a comb. “Foxlu.”

  “Bath,” I understood. “Yes, definitely.” I touched my crusty termite-gut hair, then ran my tongue over my unbrushed teeth. Ugh. Definitely time to bathe.

  Like I’d seen the other women do, I unclipped and rolled my hammock and stowed it on one of the rough wood planks.

  I rifled around in my backpack and found soap, a toothbrush, a comb, and a change of clothes. At the bottom of my backpack lay my little stuffed giraffe, the one David had won for me on our date. Just seeing it brought a smile to my face.

  I followed all the other girls out into the early morning. Awesome-smelling food assaulted my senses, and I inhaled deeply. I realized that I hadn’t eaten since lunch yesterday.

  In the daylight, I took in the village. No one was up and around but us girls. All the other huts sat quiet. I checked my watch, calculated the time change, and suddenly felt groggy. Five in the morning? Were they kidding me? It was inhumane to be up at this hour. No wonder nobody else was up and around.

  With a sweet smile, Jaaci nodded me in the direction the other girls were walking. We left the clearing and entered the jungle.