by Marie Reyes
“Things are changing. Places used to be safer y’know. Tulum, Cancún, Acapulco. Tourists are a lot less off limits than they used to be. It wasn’t worth the hassle. The media shit-storm. These new gangs. They don’t care. The cartels broke up into so many different gangs y’know. Now it’s just one big cluster-fuck. This place, no one cares. People do what they want. Not to scare you, but just stay alert, y’know.”
“Yes. Of course.” Josie straightened up. She had let herself get too comfortable.
“Where are you staying anyway?”
“Mono Loco, just down the road.”
Michael wondered if she should be giving them the name of where they were staying. He got good vibes from them, but why take the risk?
“You’ll be safe there. Julio always pays on time. Very agreeable.”
“Pays for what?” asked Michael.
“Protection. Some of the people, the businesses, are still resistant y’know. It’s not worth it. Just take the hit.”
“What do you know about the taxi companies here? Are they safe?” Josie probed.
“There is only one. It’s safe, so far as I know. You should be able to take taxi, no problem.”
“Well, thanks for letting us know. We should be getting back to the hotel.” Michael looked around for Eduardo, but he must have disappeared out back.
Álvaro waved his arms in protest. “No, we’re just getting started.”
“Michael’s right. We got barely any sleep last night.”
“Oh.” He looked surprised and contemplative, like he was working out if they were a couple or not, but then deciding he didn’t care. “But your food is just coming.”
“I don’t know. I feel so tired. It’s really hitting me now.” Josie scanned the room for Eduardo.
“Okay. Eduardo,” he shouted. “These guys want their food to go. See. No point wasting good food. I can walk you back to the hotel.”
“It’s not even dark yet. We’ll be fine,” She looked back at the kitchen.
Álvaro’s lips turned up slightly in a strange grin. “Why the hurry?”
Josie changed the subject and started talking about things to do in the area until Eduardo emerged from behind the bar and walked over with two cardboard takeout boxes. “Enjoy.”
Josie gave the money straight to Eduardo. “Keep the change.” She grabbed the boxes and stood upright.
“Let’s go then.” Álvaro gave his friend a nod, and they had a shot of rum each before getting up, leaving the rest of the rum on the table.
“Adios Eduardo,” Michael called across the bar, and they headed for the exit. A warm current of air whooshed in as they opened the door. The once light, clear sky outside now drained of color as a thick gray shelf cloud loomed overhead, blocking out the sun, making it look much later than it was. Murky brown water still sat, stagnant in potholes from the last downpour.
“There’s a storm coming,” said Jorge, looking up. He had been so quiet all night that it was almost jarring to hear him speak. He could see his face better outside, and committed it to memory. His left cheek was dented with acne scars, but somehow, it worked for him. They crossed the road. “So what do you do for the rest of your trip?” he asked as he put his hands in his pockets.
“Not sure yet.” Michael looked around. The main street was devoid of people and looked like something from a western as grit from the road was kicked up in the air by the wind. He almost expected to see a pair of old-wooden saloon doors. As they got further down the road, Michael spotted Luis at his cart. He felt sorry for the guy, he couldn’t have much business. He waved at him from the other end of the street. A motorcycle’s buzzing engine tore through the silence as it whizzed past, kicking up more dust in its wake.
“This is us,” Josie said, preparing to cross the road. Looking both ways, despite how quiet it was.
“Nice to meet you. If you need anything, let us know. Give me your phone.”
“What?”
“I’ll put my number in. You need anything, give us a call.”
“Oh, yeah. Sure.” Josie slid her phone out of her pocket and unlocked it for Álvaro to input his number, seemingly unfazed. What could it hurt Michael decided, and he took his details as well.
“Good luck on the surgery tomorrow,” said Michael.
“What?” Álvaro said, looking up from the phone.
“Jorge said you are performing a C-section tomorrow.”
“Ah, yes.” He turned to Jorge. “We should go home.” They headed back to the restaurant in a hurry, leaving Michael and Josie stood on the sidewalk looking at each other with an uneasy look that turned into a smile.“
“Well that was… something.” Michael laughed.
Chapter Eleven
There was something about standing in front of a mirror and brushing his teeth that always sent Michael into a trance. It could quite possibly have been the only time when his mind wasn’t in overdrive. His mouth hung open as he rhythmically rotated the brush across his teeth. A dog barking from outside ruined the peaceful moment and Michael spat into the sink before looking at the man staring back at him in the mirror. Pallid skin, Tired. No matter how much time he spent in the sun, he could never quite get a tan, or even the hint of a healthy glow.
A selection of T-shirts lay strewn on the bed, so he did the sniff test, deeming which ones he could wear again, and tossing the rest in the corner before heading to Josie’s room. He knocked gently and waited on the landing, listening for signs of life. Nothing. He rapped louder on the door. Maybe she was out on the streets already, showing Tanya’s photo around.
As he plodded downstairs that same person sat on the couch from when he first checked in and he wondered if they ever left that spot. Julio sat behind the front desk on his phone until he noticed Michael. “Breakfast is in the kitchen still,” he called. “Normally I clear everything away at ten, but thought you might need some food. Late riser, huh?”
“Thank you.” Michael didn’t even know the hotel had a kitchen and walked past the front desk to a dim corridor. There was a dorm room on each side with rickety wooden bunk beds, but no guests. Only one bed had a bag on it to signal it was taken. He made a mental note as he walked past a small utility room with a washing machine that it was definitely time to tackle some laundry.
At the bottom of the corridor to his left, Josie navigated a cramped room. There was a microwave caked in dry splatters of red and brown, a small burner, and a sink stacked high with mismatched kitchenware. It looked like a giant game of Jenga, and the pile was about to collapse any minute. A string of shriveled, dry chilies hung from a hook on the wall that looked like they could have been there for centuries.
Josie grabbed a slice of bread, dropping crumbs on the side, and spread a thick layer of peanut butter and jelly onto it before dropping it onto a flimsy plastic plate. “Afternoon,” she said, licking a stray piece of peanut butter off of her finger.
“Hey there. I thought you’d left without me. So what’s the plan today?”
It wasn’t until he saw the jug of apple and orange juice that he realized how thirsty he was. He went for one of each, taking a small plastic cup from the side.
“I found out where the taxi company office is. There is only one company operating here, so shouldn’t take long. Then I thought we could do something nice. Get out of here for a bit.”
“Sounds good.”
“You’re not eating?”
“I had our leftovers late last night. Not really hungry yet. I still have a stockpile of Cheetos in the room.”
“So healthy. Here. I refuse to let you live off the dream diet of an eight-year-old.” She passed him an apple.
“It’s not like your breakfast is the epitome of health. You have any idea how much sugar is in that jelly… and the white bread?”
“Quit whining and eat. We have work to do.” She tore her sandwich in half and shoveled half of it down, barely chewing.
“So did she describe the taxi at all, when your dad
spoke to her?”
“Not really. The police said it would be almost impossible to trace. Apparently there are loads of unlicensed drivers operating in the area.”
“It’s scary. All it takes is being in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
“She shouldn’t have got in there alone.” Josie muttered, clutching a mug of coffee as she stared into the distance.
Chapter Twelve
The small grey concrete building looked more like an auto-repair than a taxi company. A metal rack full of car parts ran across one side of the garage and three yellow and white taxis sat parked in the lot. The reek of diesel made Michael feel a little light-headed.
There was a small office for tourists to book trips and car services. A short-stocky man, spilling out of his jeans, stepped out before they could even make it inside. “Taxi?” he asked, rubbing excess motor oil off his hands onto his white t-shirt.
Josie went through her routine and showed him the picture of Tanya, and the man glanced at it for a split second, a look of disinterest on his face. Josie then pulled out another slip of paper. A partial license plate number. “You have any cars with this plate? Placa.” The man shrugged at her. “Do you have records? Registro’s?”
He waved her off as if she were an annoying insect, turning to go back inside.
“I pay.” She reached for her wallet, but the man walked straight back into the building. She stood there and Michael could almost see the inner workings of her brain through her eyes. Chugging away, thinking of next steps. A cab pulled up next door, and she went straight over to it before the driver even had time to park up. She went straight into Spanish and Michael took a step back. He felt like an extra limb, surplus to requirements, and stood aimlessly while Josie did her thing, a part of him wondering how the hell he had ended up here. What the hell was he doing?
“Well, that was a bust,” Josie said, walking past him. He followed her and watched as she paced the sidewalk.
“So, what now?”
***
They sat in the hotel communal area, Josie’s laptop open on the table. “This Wi-Fi sucks.” She mashed the keys out of frustration.
“Why don’t you tell me more about yourself? I feel like I know more about your sister than I do about you.” He twirled a loose thread of fabric on the couch, incapable of keeping his hands still.
“That sounds about right.”
“What do you mean?” He straightened up from his slouched position.
“It’s not easy being the younger one. Everyone says that parents dote on the younger sibling. I call bullshit.” She pounded the keyboard with her fist now, and he could picture her throwing the thing across the room.
“I think I would have liked having a brother or sister.”
“The grass is always greener. Sorry. I don’t know why I said that. She was awesome. Life of the party. She always did everything before I did though. By the time I achieved anything, she had always gotten there first. I kinda double corrected. Perfect grades, studied my ass off, never got in trouble, but for some reason my parents didn’t seem to give a shit. They were always more concerned with her. There was always some drama. I always got so mad at her for it, but now, now I’d kill to have her call with her latest crisis. One time, I remember, she ran out of money in Australia. Hitchhiked. Ended up staying with some random middle-aged dude in Cairns. For some reason, she felt compelled to tell our parent’s all the gory details. Man, they were pissed.”
Michael forced out a laugh to detract from the fact that he would have given his right arm to have someone give a shit about him.
“Anyway, you’re one to talk. I know next to nothing about you. It’s funny that isn’t it? I’ve never really traveled outside of the states. I’ve worked with people for years and barely talk to them, yet I’ve known you a few days and I already feel like…”
“I know what you mean. Trust me though, there’s nothing to tell. My life is the least interesting story in history.”
“Yes!” Josie declared as her laptop sprung to life. “Come over here,”
“What?” He mustered the energy to get his body off of the sofa.
“I finally got into her account. I’ve been trying to guess her password for the last year. There has to be something.” She scrolled through reams of messages, writing down the names of anyone she had conversed with before she disappeared. She sent a group message from her own profile begging for information. Any snippet, no matter how insignificant. While she waited to see if anyone would respond, she scrolled through all her photographs again.
The pictures showed a story. One edited and filtered until you could no longer be sure it resembled reality. Choreographed to show a perfect life. She was surrounded by groups of people, all beaming smiles and flattering camera angles. No pictures of a girl scared and alone, on dark streets, trapped in a cab and driven to her fate. He could barely imagine that grinning face with a look of terror on it, what those eyes might look like as she tried to escape. They identified where she was from tags, and landmarks. They scoured the Internet to find which ruins she was posed in front of, which stretch of sea she was lounging on, which bars she was drinking at. The second to last picture they recognized was the next street across from them, but the very last photo didn’t seem to fit with the one that came before. It was somewhere different. She stood in front of a white tower. It looked like a cross between a lighthouse or a small signal tower that you might see in an airport.
“What’s that?” Michael asked.
“Not sure. Is that sea in the background?” Josie traced her finger along a fuzzy stretch of blue behind a white wall. “Looks like it.”
“I’m going to ask.” She picked up her laptop and walked over to Julio, who sat, unmoved from his position at the front desk. “Can I ask, do you recognize this place? We want to go.” She placed her computer on the side and rotated it to face in his direction.
He leaned over the desk and squinted at the laptop. “Yes. Chetumal. Nice place. You can learn to dive. Go sailing. I have boat there.”
“Is it easy to get there from here?”
“Very easy. You can get taxi, or I can even drive. Give you a tour. My nephew can always watch this place.”
“That’s amazing, thanks.” Josie rushed back to Michael. “Did you hear that? Chetumal. We can get a cab. It will give me a chance to take another crack at the taxi driver too. Ask them some questions. Captive audience and all.” He watched Josie type Chetumal white tower into her search engine and pour through the images with a newfound vigor. “This is it.” She pointed at the tower she had seen Tanya posing in front of. Her leg shook as she tapped her foot against the floor. “We should go now. It’s still early.” He watched her range of emotions swirling into one rotating vortex of energy.
“Josie, Michael,” Julio called from the front desk. He had his phone still in his hand. “My nephew will watch the hotel now. I can take you if you like? Show you Chetumal?”
“Are you sure?” Josie asked, a huge grin on her face.
“As soon as Frederico gets here we go.”
“I’m going to put my laptop away.” She raced upstairs, leaving Michael stood there in her wake.
“Hang on.” He headed after her.
***
“What the hell is happening right now?” He leaned against the wall as she placed her laptop in a large metal locker, shut the door with a clunk, and turned the key.
“What if this wasn’t the last place she was? She was in this Chetumal place. We were talking to the wrong taxi company the whole time. I have a good feeling about this.”
“But going with this guy. You think that’s a good idea?”
“What, our hotel owner? Don’t you think you’re being a bit paranoid?”
“It wouldn’t hurt to be cautious.”
“Here would this make you feel better?” She passed him her phone. A post uploaded to her profile, tagging them both at the hotel and informing everyone they were traveling to Chetumal
. “Everyone knows where we are, and Julio knows it. Let’s go.”
Chapter Thirteen
They walked around the back of the hotel to Julio’s car. A beat up old Chevy that looked like it had been in a few collisions in its time. Most of the rear wheel-arch dented inward, so the jagged metal almost touched the tire. He still had trouble with the fact that Julio was so happy to just drop everything to take them there, not that the hotel was busy—it could probably take care of itself. Despite this newfound information, Michael was still convinced that Josie would be going home none the wiser. Life rarely gave endings wrapped up in neat packages. As he opened the door and stepped into the back seat, he moved aside the junk-food wrappers and discarded liquor bottles that littered the back of the car. As Michael tried to pull his seat belt forward, it jammed in one place and wouldn’t pull out any further, so he gave up on it, letting it retract back where it came from.
***
Michael started to feel more at home as they drove into Chetumal —a port city bordering Belize. The small dive shops and palm trees dotted along the coast gave the place a Caribbean feel, and the many bars and restaurants catering to tourists gave him the urge to knock back a cold one. He couldn’t help but wonder why Julio wouldn’t have a hotel here instead and assumed it must be a lot more expensive to buy property here.
Julio pointed out various landmarks and suggested the two of them go to see manatees in the nearby mangrove shores. He then pointed out his cousin’s house on the left and Michael smiled and nodded. Josie perched on the edge of her seat with her face close to the window, taking in every little detail. Julio went onto explain how the various hurricanes that had hit the shores over the last few years destroyed most of the remaining old wooden clap-board houses, which were now replaced with concrete.
“There it is.” Josie craned her neck out of the back window and pointed over at the tall white lighthouse. “Can we stop?” she asked.
“Okay, but quickly. I want to take you on the boat, but don’t want to set off too late,” Julio said, and as soon as he slowed the car Josie jumped out, before he even had time to park up. He used the side-walk as a temporary parking space but stayed in the car. “Michael. Tell her to be quick. It’s a museum now. You know.” Michael was unsure how the tiny white box of a building attached to the lighthouse could be a whole museum. Instead of going inside, he waited outside and took in the sun.
