by A. T. Grant
His mother had been modest and pretty and high borne. She was from a respectable Mexican-American business family based in Tijuana. She had run away with Alfredo’s father, Paulo and they had married without her parents’ knowledge or consent. At first Estella had managed to turn Paulo away from his mobster roots and they had fled to a quiet old colonial coastal town, on the southern fringes of the Gulf of Mexico. There, two years later, Luis had been born. They made contact with Estella’s parents, who came to visit in an act of reconciliation. Paulo used the monies they brought with them to buy an ailing garage, which he turned into a successful re-spray business. Then, one day, Felipe had driven into the forecourt and everything changed again.
Paulo was needed at home. His own father was in hospital, as a result of a drunken brawl. He would die from his injuries before Paulo made it back. He felt guilty and he knew that his brother would not cope alone, so he returned with Estella to the ranch on the edge of the Sierra Madre. Estella had been uncomfortable there from the start. She observed Paulo turning into someone else, someone she found hard to love, day after disappointing day, but she stuck by him. Luis became the main focus of her attention and soon she was pregnant again. With Alfredo and Luis to care for, she shut out as much of Paulo’s world as she could. Work was never discussed at the table and Paulo was always there on a Sunday, at its head. Felipe got married, and for a while she and his wife Marta were friends. She was happy again. Then she was gone.
Alfredo did not know how his mother had died, but the full tragedy of her passing was now ripping through him like never before. He could not move. For a long time he sat below the picture window in front of Liberty’s store. At some point a gruff Cockney voice asked if he was alright. He gestured it away. A stray cat came and nuzzled around him. He gave it an instinctive, territorial swipe. His sorrow slowly evolved into numbness. Despite his urgent desire to recreate his mother’s face again, it would not come. Even his image of the girl on the tube had been swept away, like the changing faces on an automatic advertising hording. Now all he could see was the departing train, a train he was meant to have caught.
Alfredo finally found his way to an all-night cafe in the back streets of Soho. He entered more for warmth than for food. He also wanted to examine the text message, which had been bleeping its presence for some time on his phone. He ordered a coffee and a burger then pulled a tall stool up to a narrow table-top which offered a view out onto the night. He examined the cell-phone screen.
Call me.
The message was from Luis. Alfredo hesitated.
This was not a part of the plan and there was none of the usual concern for security. Alfredo knew at once that something was wrong. He also knew that he wanted to support his brother. In seeing his mother’s face he was seeing his own life clearly for the first time. The one real constant in his life was Luis. He loved his brother as much as the mother he had never known. There was nobody else in his life he was sure of, certainly not his father, Paulo. Any love he held for his father was well-drilled deference, whilst his love for Luis was deep and mutual.
Alfredo slurped the remains of his coffee, took one large bite from the just delivered burger, thrust the phone into his jacket pocket and headed purposefully for the door. He didn’t know what lay ahead but, whatever it was, he would make his brother proud. Unsure of his way in the maze of tiny streets, he kept to well-lit back roads and passageways, ignoring the regular splashes of neon, snippets of dance music and gaggles of giggling girls which mapped out much of his life to date. He emerged into the theatre lights of Shaftesbury Avenue. Across the road were the red lanterns of London’s China Town. Beneath these hanging symbols of good fortune, road sweepers were already cleaning the street of litter in readiness for Saturday morning shoppers. Alfredo felt for his cell-phone again. It was halfway to his ear when he changed his mind and hailed a taxi. He was suddenly more tired than he could ever remember. First he would sleep and then he would call Luis.
Chapter Nineteen
Coba
Marcus was not having a good day. Everybody but Cesar seemed to be avoiding him and all the gains the group had made on their previous excursion appeared to be lost. He felt unexpectedly out of place in the jungle and increasingly worried that he was out of his depth as well. Already he had endangered the team and this was just gentle acclimatisation before the main expedition. He was not looking forward to explaining what had happened to Dana. It was not so much that they would need to consider the possibility of formal complaints, or even requests for compensation. He was more worried about losing face in front of someone of whom he had already grown fond. She seemed to like him too. Tonight they would gather everybody before dinner and he would apologise. They would give their guests the opportunity to air their views and he would just have to take the expected criticism on the chin. Hopefully there would still be time to repair the damage.
Marcus’ problems had been magnified by a conversation with Cesar. Marcus had ventured Cesar’s father Carlos’ concerns about safety beyond the resorts. Cesar’s response had been frank, but that had only served to compound Marcus’ dilemma. Cesar admitted taking and selling drugs whilst at high school. His father had fortunately found out before the school authorities and put a stop to it. That, Cesar said, would have been the end of the matter, but recently his supplier had made contact, and threatened him when he refused to buy more. Carlos had intervened afresh, but this only drew more threats and he eventually had to buy the dealer off. Cesar’s father was a well-respected businessman with a powerful relative. The family were shaken to find this no longer made them immune to the criminal underworld. Should Marcus inform Dana about Cesar’s background, when he had been so candid? He resolved to hold his peace for now, but to seek his boss, Steven’s counsel as soon as possible.
Laura and David were still sitting atop the main pyramid when Cesar and Marcus arrived. Cesar went to inspect the small temple building, so Marcus joined the other two. For a moment, following his determinedly casual reference to the view, there was a silence pregnant with embarrassment. Marcus was summoning the composure to make the first of what he assumed would be several apologies that day, when Laura interjected. “Were you aware that David knows Culjinder?”
All Marcus’ tension dissipated. He had rarely been more grateful for conversation and he was also genuinely intrigued. “That’s right, you were saying something about Culjinder earlier, weren’t you David?”
David stared at his clasped hands. Both Laura and Marcus worried that they had upset him.
“I knew a Culjinder, a long time ago. I met her during a trip to southern India - Kerala. I was with my elder sister. She’s the adventurous one in the family. She still travels today and on that one occasion she managed to persuade me to go with her.” David paused and smiled shyly at Laura and Marcus. “You two would get on with her well.”
Marcus returned David’s smile. “I know that our Culjinder has family in southern India.”
“It is her, I think. When I booked this holiday the lady I spoke to, whom I’m assuming was your Culjinder, did sound familiar. It was only by the lake today that I made the connection. I understand why she didn’t reveal herself: it would have been much too confusing.”
“Clever of you to remember someone’s voice from so long ago,” Laura suggested.
“Not really, you see I rather fell in love with her. You won’t tell her that, will you?”
Laura and Marcus glanced at each other, nodded then instinctively leaned in closer.
“She was there with her parents and an aunt. She’d left India when she was very young and it was her first time back. They’d been staying with relatives. Her family’s well off; full of doctors and dentists, as far as I could ascertain. She wanted to explore the area before she returned to England, so persuaded her mother and aunt to join a tour, whilst her father took care of property they still owned. If I remember correctl
y, the tour company was something to do with her family as well. My sister thought joining an organised tour a bit tame. She only did it for my benefit. It was she who got to know Culjinder first. I used to listen in to their conversations. The two of us eventually got talking too and we didn’t stop again for a week.”
“Then what happened?” Laura enquired, eagerly.
“Well nothing, really. We were never left alone for long enough. Her mother and aunt proved to be fierce chaperones. But, by the time the trip ended, I still felt closer to Culjinder than to anyone, ever. We were kindred spirits in a mysterious land, though our real lives were far apart. There was nothing to do but say our polite goodbyes. I remember she blushed when I kissed her on the cheek. Her aunt and she argued fiercely after that. Then she was gone.”
“That’s some coincidence,” Marcus mused, “Culjinder working for a travel company and you booking through her.”
“It is surprising.” David paused and his gaze settled for some moments on the middle distance. He hadn’t thought about why Culjinder worked for a travel company. It brought him closer to her. “I didn’t realise it until I was out here, but I think Phoebe, my girlfriend, saw me looking through a photo album which I put together after the India trip. Culjinder and I exchanged letters back in the UK, and mine from her was in the album. Phoebe must have used the address to locate her. Thinking about it now, that was an amazingly selfless thing to do - she really must love me. I still don’t know how or why the two of them ended up booking me this trip but, sitting here now, I think I’m grateful.”
Laura wanted to know more, but decided it safer to change the subject. “It’s hard to believe this was all a great city once.” She pointed in the general direction of the forest below.
“All those lives,” mused David. “I suppose they achieved some sort of immortality through their building. Even I’d heard of the Mayans, but what of the ordinary people who weren’t builders and whose lives must have been so all-consuming at the time. What is their legacy?”
“David, you sound a little low. Are you sure you haven’t had too much sun?” Marcus’ voice was hesitant, but he looked genuinely concerned.
David regarded him quizzically. He knew Marcus was right, but he was also suddenly angry. People’s lives mattered, somehow, in the grand scheme of things. He was sure of it. He just didn’t know how.
Marcus realised how patronising he must have sounded, so did his best to respond to David’s observation. “Every hill here is a building reclaimed by the jungle.”
“Yes, but the rainforest doesn’t miss the Mayans, for all their grand schemes. People are like butterflies, attention grabbing, but essentially frivolous.” David looked stumped. He was feeling confused, and vaguely aware he was contradicting himself.
Laura was also flagging in the heat, but added “Isn’t there some sort of eco-fable about Mayan civilisation collapsing as they destroyed the environment?”
“Exactly,” Marcus declared, “people matter to people, but not to life on this planet.”
David chuckled, resignedly. “At least I’m not the only serious one. I don’t know about you two, but I could do with an ice-cream. It looks like everyone else feels the same. That seems to be our group, back down by the café.”
“Me to,” Laura pushed herself upright and stretched. “Look what Cesar’s found.”
Cesar was sitting in the sun, smoking. His other hand was playing with a tiny, trembling, ball of fur.
“I found it in the temple.” Cesar twisted towards them and blew smoke into the air. “I don’t think it can be more than a few days old. It must have been abandoned by the mother.”
“My fault, I’m afraid. I scared off the mother and other babies when I went inside.” David walked across to Cesar and squatted by the kitten. “Do you mind if I put it back? I think the family might return when we leave.”
Cesar said nothing, but raised his hand. David scooped up the cat clumsily in his two fleshy paws. Its eyes were still closed, as though in reaction to the trauma of birth. He felt the tiny claws and teeth pricking his skin, but he was not concerned. It was too young to do anything but seek comfort. He soothed it with a finger as he headed back to the sanctuary of the temple. No longer disturbed by the dark or the confined space, he ducked inside. One corner was now bathed in light and it was here that there appeared to be a nest. David crouched carefully, laid the kitten down and pushed the sparse pile of grass and leaves close around it. He sucked in the deep calm of the chamber. This was no offering to the temple gods, he decided. He was making peace with Mother Earth, with the forest, and was glad she cared so little for human affairs.
Marcus also found peace that evening. Dana was surprisingly matter of fact about his revelation and none of the party wanted to make a fuss. He rang Steven and it was only he who struck a note of caution, suggesting that whether people complained probably depended upon the success of the rest of the trip. Marcus detected a slight edge to his comment: just enough of an authoritarian tone to remind him that he was still only, ultimately, an employee. Somehow, as he sat on the hotel veranda, feet over the green railing, it was Dana’s reaction that meant the more. He looked out between the wooden slats to the lawn that undulate down to the lake. Tiny waves, whipped up by the cool evening breeze, played around the shore. Frogs called from the reed beds, waterfowl squabbled just out of sight and the rhythmic trill of cicadas in the trees provided a soothing baseline to a symphony set amongst an amphitheatre of stars. Marcus realised how grateful he was for David’s company as he, Ethan and Felicity joined him. “How is your hand?” he enquired of Felicity.
“Feeling fine, thank you,” she observed, just a little frostily. “It didn’t stop me following David’s lead and hiring a bike. Ethan and I cycled miles with one of the guides.”
“Yes and we saw some really cool stuff,” Ethan interjected. “The guide showed us where they’re clearing more buildings from the forest. They’ve discovered a load of stone hieroglyphs. The archaeologists had pulled a ceramic figure out of the ground earlier too. They said it was a cremation pot, dedicated to the mother goddess Ix-Chel. You could still make out the paint and even some of her features. We both thought she looked like Laura. We also found another lake deep in the jungle, which was where our crocodiles came from. Apparently, they swam into this lake during floods some years ago and stayed - any crocodiles on the lawn, Marcus?”
Marcus chose to absorb Ethan’s unsubtle dig. It was the least he deserved. He shook his head. “I did check - no crocodiles, although lots of little notices telling people not to picnic on the shoreline. How are you feeling, David?”
“Tired and I’ve got a headache - great day despite everything, in the end.”
“You want to get some sleep,” counselled Felicity. “The rooms are really cosy, aren’t they?”
“Dinner was good too.” Ethan rubbed his ample stomach. “I really like the hotel courtyard and the fountains where we ate. It felt like the Italian Riviera. We just needed someone to serenade us.”
“I’m afraid at best it’s likely to be a mariachi band.” Marcus smiled. “Nature’s doing a pretty good job though, isn’t it?”
Everybody stopped to listen. The wind had dropped and now the sound of the cicadas was reaching its crescendo.
“Wow, look at those stars.” David joined Marcus with his feet up on the railing.
“Look, you can see the Milky Way running across the sky, really clearly,” Felicity pointed. “The Mayans thought it was the road to the underworld, made by a giant snake called an Ouroboros, wrapped around the Earth.”
Ethan made a gesture of mock surprise.
“At least one of us was paying attention this afternoon,” Felicity scolded.
“Funny, isn’t it?” David pondered. “At night we shut out the sky and stare at screens. In ancient civilisations they’d spend hours at a time stu
dying the heavens. That was their window on another world, somewhere only their gods and souls could go.”
“David, you’re getting serious again,” Marcus stretched and patted him on the back, “but I like the way you see things.”
“So why don’t we worship sky gods anymore?” Ethan caught the contemplative mood.
“Perhaps we do,” David mused. “The galaxy forged the stars and planets, the solar system shaped the Earth; the Sun provides our power and the moon the hand to keep us stable. Fill in all the details and it’s as good as any creation myth. We still worship the sun; we just choose to call it science, not religion.”
“Sounds like you’re sceptical about science,” Marcus yawned.
“Not really, I like science,” David paused and thought for a moment. “I just think that if people insist it’s the only way to see the world it becomes like any other creed.”
“Listen.” Felicity cocked her head to one side. The cicadas in the trees had ceased calling. For a moment there was no sound at all then, as their ears adjusted, each was aware of distant music from the single bar back down the dusty lakeside trail.
“Anyone fancy a game of pool?”
David shrugged then nodded. Tomorrow they would transfer to a small, exclusive beachside hotel, far to the south of the main resorts. Apart from that, it was a rest day. No point hurrying to bed. He caught himself wondering where Laura was, and realised how much he was looking forward to their next conversation.
