Middleworld

by J; P Voelkel

  Probably.

  He was mortified.

  “There were these five huge dogs—”

  “Oh, did the doggies scare ooo? Poor lickle baby!” She sneered. “We should’ve bwought some diapers for the lickle baby!”

  “Stop it! I’m not a baby!” yelled Max. “You don’t know what it was like.”

  “You’re a bit old to go around wetting yourself, Hoop. I’d see a doctor, if I were you. Just wait till the others hear about this—”

  “No, please,” begged Max, “don’t tell them.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because it’s embarrassing.”

  “Are you worried about what they’ll think of you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, I can tell you what they think of you. They think the same as I do—that you’re a jerk. A useless little jerk with stupid red hair and a face like a rat with acne.”

  “Stop it, Lola! I thought we were friends!”

  She snorted with derision. “Why would a hot girl like me ever be friends with a jerk like you? I’ve been leading you on for a laugh, but now I’m going to tell you the truth. You’re sad, you’re ugly, you’re boring, and you’re disgusting. Even when you’re not soaked in pee, you smell. You’ve got bad breath, and those zits on your chin make me feel sick. Nobody likes you, Massimo Francis Sylvanus Murphy. Even your name is stupid. Everybody’s laughing at you behind your back, and they’ll laugh even harder when I tell them about this. If I were you, I’d just run away now while there’s time.”

  Max sank back to the floor in misery. He felt as gutted as a fish on a slab. It was so unfair. He could see that the old Max Murphy, the couch potato who’d landed at San Xavier airport, hadn’t been much of a catch. But he thought he’d improved since then. His face was tan and his body was fitter. He’d tried to be a better person on the inside, too, since that day on the Monkey River.

  But, apparently, it all counted for nothing.

  All Max’s bravado melted away.

  There was no point in going on.

  Maybe his parents didn’t love him after all. How could anyone love him? He was a failure. A creep. He’d always suspected that girls found him repulsive. Now his worst fear had come true.

  Wait a minute …

  His worst fear!

  They will use thy fears against thee.

  He looked up. Lola was grinning triumphantly.

  “Give me a kiss,” he said.

  Her smile disappeared.

  “Come on,” he coaxed, “why not? You’re not such a catch yourself, you know. You’ve got a big nose and a bad haircut, and you’re so bossy you give me a headache. I think you’d be lucky to kiss a hunk like me.”

  “What?” she said incredulously.

  “Face it, Monkey Girl, you can’t get to me because you’re not real. You’re a product of my imagination. I don’t have to listen to anything you say.”

  He just had time to grab the flashlight before she melted back into the wall.

  Phew. That was a close one.

  Max got to his feet and started to make his way quickly down the corridor. Running around a corner, he ran smack into Lola.

  “Hoop!” she cried. “What happened to you?”

  “My flashlight broke. …” He flicked the switch to demonstrate, and it came on instantly.

  “It seems to be working now,” she said.

  Was she real or was she a ghost?

  He shone the flashlight on his crotch.

  “What are you doing?” she asked, appalled.

  It was dry. She was real.

  “Hoop, what are you doing?” she repeated.

  “Nothing.” He pointed the flashlight away from him. “It’s just that things got a bit weird for a while.”

  He told her all about the phantom party, except for the bit at the end where her evil twin had appeared to him in the passageway. No need for her to know that his worst fear in the world concerned girls and what they thought of him.

  “Poor Hoop, that sounds awful. Let’s get out of here.”

  “So, while we were separated, did Ah Pukuh get at you, too?” he asked.

  She nodded.

  “What with?”

  She shuddered. “I’ll tell you another time. Now, which way? This place has as many tunnels as a termite nest. …”

  “Wait!” said Max. “There’s something I have to ask you.”

  “What is it, Hoop? We have to hurry—”

  “Do I have bad breath?”

  “What? This isn’t the moment to discuss personal hygiene,” she snapped. “We have to find Lord 6-Dog.”

  “Thou hast found him,” said the monkey, stepping out of the shadows.

  Max peered into the monkey’s eyes. “It is you, isn’t it?”

  Lord 6-Dog held his gaze. “Indeed it is,” he said. “But am I to assume that the spirits have been testing thee with phantasms?”

  Max nodded. “Did they test you, too, Your Majesty?”

  “My test will be Tzelek,” said Lord 6-Dog gravely. “Remember, this is but a rehearsal. No matter what thou hast endured this night, young lord, worse is to come. So far thou hast been menaced with magic and illusion; on the morrow, thou wilt face the reality of pure evil. Until Tzelek is vanquished, each one of us is in immeasurable danger.”

  “Do you still think we can vanquish him?” asked Max doubtfully, but Lord 6-Dog had bounded ahead down the passageway and didn’t hear. Max and Lola hurried after him, wrapped in their own thoughts.

  “Was that a yes or a no on the bad-breath question?” he asked.

  She stopped dead and made a noise like a cat when someone steps on its tail.

  “That bad?” he said, horrified, cupping his hand on his chin and trying to direct his breath upward so he could smell it himself.

  But Lola was pointing straight ahead. “Oh no!” she said. “I can’t bear it.”

  Once again, the passageway ended in a solid wall. But this time there was no trapdoor, no way forward.

  “What now?” wailed Lola, reprising her tortured cat noise. “I just want to get out of here.”

  “Please don’t say we have to go back,” said Max. “Anything but that.”

  “Tsk, tsk,” Lord 6-Dog chided them. “Have faith.”

  Using faint indentations in the wall, he began to climb up the stones. When he reached the ceiling, Max and Lola were astonished to see his head and then his body and finally his tail disappear through the solid rock. A few moments later his head reappeared upside down.

  “The passage is free to the caves,” he announced. “We have our escape route. Now follow me and do not hesitate.”

  Max prepared himself for pain as he forced his head up against the ceiling. To his surprise, he met with no resistance, and was able to climb straight through, up into another passageway. The air was less oppressive here and, giddy with relief, he sensed that their escape plan was going to work. The rest was easy, and Lord 6-Dog led them through a network of caves and tunnels, out into the sweet, wet, humming, buzzing, living forest.

  It was daylight by the time they got back to the camp, but Lady Coco and Hermanjilio had not returned.

  “Take a rest,” said Lord 6-Dog. “I will keep a lookout.”

  He took off through the trees.

  Max and Lola were dead tired and threw themselves down on the grass.

  “What a night!” said Max.

  “Sí, ¡qué noche! A most interesting night,” said a voice behind them.

  They jumped to their feet and spun around.

  A dark-haired man dressed all in black clicked his fingers loudly. Men in black sidled out from among the trees and surrounded Max and Lola.

  “Who are you?” asked Max, but he knew the answer.

  “I am Count Antonio de Landa,” said the Spaniard, pointing his goateed chin in the air and making that melodramatic cape-flicking movement that Max had first seen at the hotel in Puerto Muerto.

  “But the big question”—the count sneered,
striding over to Lola and grabbing her roughly by the jaw—“is who are you?” As she fought to free herself, he held her face steady in his black leather gloves. “The gods always like the pretty ones,” he said. “They will be pleased with you. Are you ready to sacrifice yourself, my dear? You have an appointment at the altar.”

  “Spanish scum!” she yelled, and spat in his face.

  He slapped her hard across the cheek. “Take them to the ship.”

  Chapter Twenty-three

  CAPTURED

  Whump. Whump. Whump. The high-powered speedboat met each wave head-on as they raced across the ocean. Max and Lola were lying on the floor of the boat, drenched by rain and saltwater spray, their hands and feet bound with rope, their mouths tightly gagged.

  It had all been going so well. Max had been so relieved to get out of the Black Pyramid and get back to the safety of the camp. He was proud of himself for standing up to Ah Pukuh and his demons. And even though their impersonations had been grotesque, their attempts had reassured him that his real parents weren’t far away.

  Against all odds, victory had been within their grasp. Now Hermanjilio, Lord 6-Dog, and Lady Coco would have to fight the forces of evil alone. When Venus rose in the morning, Lola would be tied to the sacrificial altar and … what? What fate did Landa have in store for Max? Would he be sacrificed, too?

  He strained to turn his head until he could see Lola. Her hair was plastered to her face. She looked as seasick as he felt. He thought he might puke at any moment. How would that work with the gag? It was too disgusting to contemplate.

  Just when he thought he could hold it in no longer, the boat stopped.

  A white yacht towered over them.

  La Espada, Cadiz.

  Someone yanked him up roughly and hustled him and Lola into a cargo net. Before he knew what was happening, they were scooped off their feet and winched into the air. Next minute they were hanging a few feet above the surface of the ocean. Max thought he could see a shark fin cutting through the water toward them.

  Would he rather be eaten first or watch Lola being eaten?

  There was no time to decide, for the cargo net suddenly lurched, swung around, and dumped them heavily onto the deck, like two fat codfish.

  Lola was carried away in one direction, while Max was dragged off in the other. Two guards manhandled him roughly along gangways and up stairways until they reached a carpeted corridor on an upper deck. Here the guards untied him and removed his gag.

  “Where are you taking me?” asked Max.

  One of the guards answered in a torrent of Spanish. Max was none the wiser.

  “Is it to Landa?” guessed Max. “I have nothing to say to that pig.”

  The guards seemed to find this hilarious. They nodded and leered as they pushed him toward a set of varnished wooden doors at the end of the corridor.

  So this was it. The long-awaited confrontation with Count Antonio de Landa.

  Max wondered if the count had an onboard torture chamber. Well, at least if he was busy torturing Max, it meant he wasn’t engaged in sacrificing Lola. Wow! Max got a lump in his throat as he realized that was probably the most selfless thought he’d ever had in his life. But what was the point of being a reformed character if a sadistic Spaniard was about to pull out your fingernails one by one?

  Max’s thoughts were spiraling into hysteria when the guards pushed him headlong through the doors.

  He went sprawling onto the carpet. When he staggered to his feet, he found himself in a plush, wood-paneled stateroom. There was a long table in the center of the room and red velvet banquettes around the edge. At the far end, a man was standing with his back to the room, gazing out to sea. He was wearing a white linen suit.

  “Uncle Ted!”

  Uncle Ted turned around. His face looked even more furrowed. He had dark shadows under his eyes. He looked like he hadn’t slept for at least a week.

  “Uncle Ted, what are you doing here?”

  “I could ask you the same question, young man.”

  “This is Landa’s yacht! Are you in league with him? I might have known it!”

  “I think we should start this discussion with an apology.”

  “It better be good,” said Max.

  He waited.

  “An apology from you,” clarified Uncle Ted.

  “Me? For what?”

  “Let me think,” said Uncle Ted. “For betraying my trust, perhaps? For stealing the Red Jaguar? For doing your utmost to destroy my business?”

  “Your business?” Max stared at him in disbelief. “Don’t you understand that the world is about to end and you won’t even have a business if we don’t stop your friend Landa from waking the Undead Army?”

  Uncle Ted looked alarmed. “What have they done to you? I heard you’ve been keeping bad company, Max. Have they brainwashed you?”

  “Me, brainwashed? That’s a good one. So how long have you been involved in this plot, Uncle Ted?”

  “Plot?” Uncle Ted sounded genuinely puzzled.

  “The plot for Landa-slash-Tzelek to take over the world.”

  “That’s enough, Max!” said Uncle Ted. “Can you imagine how worried I’ve been? First your parents disappear. Then you run off into the jungle with a band of thieves. If this is what it’s like to have children, then—” He stopped himself abruptly and continued in a colder, more businesslike tone. “All I’m trying to do is recover a valuable artifact for my client. If you’d just tell me what you’ve done with the Red Jaguar, perhaps we can sort it out without recourse to the law.”

  Max narrowed his eyes and looked hard at Uncle Ted. Either he was an Oscar-worthy actor or he really didn’t know Landa’s plans.

  “Your client has been possessed by the spirit of an evil Maya priest. He’s using the Black Jaguar to release the demon warriors of the underworld.”

  “Oh, grow up, Max! I don’t think you understand how serious this is. Larceny, assault, sabotage, property damage … you and your girlfriend are in a lot of trouble.”

  “She’s not my girlfriend,” muttered Max. “If you could just get us off this boat, I’ll tell you everything. …”

  Uncle Ted ran his hands through his hair.

  “I’m afraid that’s not possible. The matter is out of my hands. Thanks to your delinquent behavior, Count de Landa is calling the shots.” Uncle Ted lowered his voice. “You know I’m no fan of his, Max, but you’ve forced me to take his side. He’s my client and I made a deal with him. Now he wants his merchandise and he won’t give up until he gets it. He’s ruthless, Max. So stop all this nonsense right now.”

  “It’s not nonsense. It was you who told me that if Landa’s journal was not a fake, it could destroy the world.”

  “I should have kept my mouth shut.”

  “But Uncle Ted—”

  Max saw a movement out of the corner of his eye. He turned, once again expecting to see Landa. But it was Lucky Jim. He was sitting there, arms folded, staring straight ahead.

  “Lucky, you’re a Maya—you know I’m telling the truth. Or is it you who’s in league with Landa? I don’t know who to trust anymore.”

  Lucky Jim ignored him.

  Uncle Ted stepped forward and stared into Max’s eyes. “Paranoia, stealing, delusions … Have you been taking drugs?”

  “Of course not! I’m telling you the truth, Uncle Ted! You said yourself that anything can happen, that things are never what they seem around here. If you don’t help me stop him, Landa is going to sacrifice Lola to Ah Pukuh.”

  Uncle Ted sat down heavily on a banquette. He looked like he was trying hard to keep his temper. “Let me spell it out. All the count wants is the return of the Red Jaguar.”

  “No, Uncle Ted, you’re wrong! Landa wants to rule the world! Why do you think he’s collecting Jaguar Stones?”

  “It’s not my business, Max.”

  “It is your business! It’s all our business! Someone has to stop him! I know you deal with some shady characters, Uncle Ted,
but surely even you can recognize pure evil when you see it?”

  “That’s enough, Max!” Uncle Ted put his head in his hands.

  Max turned back to Lucky Jim.

  “Lucky, you know what I’m talking about!” he said. “You understand the power of the Jaguar Stones!”

  Lucky Jim shrugged. He looked uncomfortable.

  “You were right,” Max continued, “the ancient Maya are still trying to run things in this jungle. Last night, in the Black Pyramid, I met Ah Pukuh—”

  “You tourists should stay out of our temples,” said Lucky Jim.

  “No!” yelled Max. “We’ve gone way past that. It’s not about who’s a tourist and who’s a Maya. We’re all in this together. You can’t ignore history anymore, Lucky Jim, because it’s playing out right in front of us. Your children will ask you why you didn’t try to save them from the living hell that will be their lives when Ah Pukuh takes over. Are you going to blame that on the tourists? Or are you going to do something about it, while there’s still time?” Max’s face, red with fury, was right in Lucky’s face. Their noses almost touched. “At least you could tell Uncle Ted that I’m not crazy.”

  Silence.

  Max took a softer tone. “We need you, Lucky! There’s going to be a huge battle tonight between good and evil. The immortal Lord 6-Dog is out there right now. We used the Green Jaguar of Itzamna to bring him back. He’s inside the body of a howler monkey, and Tzelek is inside Landa. …”

  Max’s voice trailed off as even he realized how ridiculous it all sounded.

  Lucky Jim got up and left the room.

  “Now you’ve gone too far,” said Uncle Ted, “making fun of Lucky’s heritage. I’m disgusted with you, Max. Here I am, trying to protect you. …”

  “Don’t give me that,” said Max. He was past caring what he said. “You hate me just like you hate my father.”

  Uncle Ted looked genuinely appalled. “That’s not true,” he said quietly. “It took me a day or two, but I grew fond of you, Max. You reminded me of myself at your age. Sure, you were a little spoiled, but I thought a few weeks in San Xavier would change that.”

  “I have changed, Uncle Ted.”