by Anya Allyn
When I’d told him what Henry wanted from me, his blue eyes had stared into mine, troubled and dazed. He’d said, ‘I don't know exactly what's going on here. But I don't like it. And I like that Henry guy even less. And if he's prepared to go to those kind of lengths to get something, maybe that thing is something he shouldn't have’.
Massive cacti claimed the sides of the mountains, like soldiers guarding the towns below. As we reached the bottom, uneven houses held tightly to their places in the rocky ground, their paint peeling from years under a sun that must be harsh in the summer.
My stomach clenched at the sight of the first sight of the aqueduct—the one I’d seen during the trance Henry had put me under. We were here. We crossed a high stone bridge into the Batopilas. The reddish sun lit the buildings of a town that seemed carved out of the mountains themselves. The architecture had a simple beauty—faded accents of purple and yellow amongst the weathered whites. Children chased chickens along the wide main street while townspeople stopped and watched inquisitively. The people were dressed in everyday clothes, unlike the native dress of the Indians we’d seen travelling the road by foot.
We were sticky and hot as we reached the hotel. Emerson and Zach checked us in, and we pulled our bags into our rooms. The boys were to share one room, with Molly and me in the room next door.
Molly stepped out to buy some batteries for her camera while I stepped into the bathroom to splash my face. For a moment, I shrunk back. The bathroom was large, as large as the bathroom had been in the underground. Small things often triggered memories. Doctor Alexia had said to let memories flow through me and not to resist them. I held onto the towel rail and allowed the moment to pass.
A knock came at the door. "Cassie, it's Zach. Are you okay?"
"Yes," I called back, amused.
"Because if you need me to scrub your back or anything, I'm here."
I gave a short laugh. "Okay. I’ll keep that in mind.”
Zach chuckled as he walked away. I freshened up and changed clothes.
When I stepped out of the bathroom, Zach and Emerson were sitting on the chairs in my room. Zach pointed to a platter of fresh fruit and cheeses were waiting on my bed. Mangoes, guavas, bananas and some others I didn't know the names for. I sliced some cheese and a piece of mango and popped them in my mouth together.
"Delicious," I told Zach.
"Better be. I had to race all over town for that."
"No he didn't.” Emerson stretched his lanky legs out. “He had the kitchen make it up."
I smiled at Zach’s joke. "Molandah back yet?”
Just then, Molly and Parker stepped through the doorway.
Molly held an armful of supplies. “Hard to find what I wanted—none of the shops had names on them. And I don’t speak Spanish anyway. Good thing Parker does!”
Parker grinned, pushing black hair back from his eyes. “I know a little, not a lot. At one store, I think they thought we were asking for condoms, because the packet they were trying to give us looked an awful lot like…” He raised his eyebrows.
Molly flushed a deep color but laughed along with everyone else.
We all finished off the plate of fruit and cheese while a chorus of frogs and toads echoed from the river. For the first time in days, a positive note lifted amongst the sinister music that constantly played through my mind.
As night fell, we took a stroll through the town and dined at an outdoor restaurant. I started to fall into the easy rhythm here of Batopilas life, and forgot, for a while, why I was here.
Morning dawned cool and hazy. With the car refusing to start, it was going to be a trek of three hours to our next destination. Molly and I loaded up our backpacks with enough water and food for the day.
I eyed the mountains, daunted by the thought of a hike all the way to the next town. But Molly gazed at the same mountains with an expression of awe on her face.
“I love it here,” she said wistfully. “Even before my time in the underground, I never thought I’d go places like this.”
The boys joined us outside the hotel and we started out without delay. It was going to take all day to get to Urique and back.
A green and red macaw flew low through the valley ahead. The road looked almost the same as it had in my dream, twisting and turning. We crossed a river filled with large stones. A swarm of bright things descended on us. Bright orange butterflies.
"Hey!" cried Zach helplessly, as hundreds of butterflies alighted on him.
Laughing, I snapped a photo of him.
"He must be the sweatiest of us,” said Emerson in a mock TV presenter voice. “The butterflies are mud-puddling, which means they’re looking for extra nutrients. If they can get it from human sweat, they will." He held out a guidebook, one eyebrow raised.
"Get off you little vampires." Zach brushed them from his arms.
We continued on for the next three hours, the valley growing greener. The village of Urique spread before us with its cobblestoned main street and buildings of purple, yellow, blue and red.
“Hey we’re in the lowest part of the canyon now,” said Parker. “Seven thousand feet to the bottom.”
The sight of the soaring mountains was almost overpowering, crushing. How could we find what we’d come for in the midst of all this?
A group of Tarahumara women sat weaving baskets from pine needles by a small stone house. They glanced at me intently for a moment, as though they guessed my thoughts were out of step with the valley, as though they saw the turmoil inside me.
“Cassie? We’ll just follow wherever you head from here.” Zach’s arms came around me.
I stared around at everyone, nodding.
We walked on through the town. Tumbledown houses dotted the landscape here and there, but none looked quite like the one in my vision. I retraced my steps twice. There was no sign of the house.
“I can’t see it anywhere,” I said finally.
Emerson sat on a rock, tearing his hat off and wiping his brow. "Are you sure?"
"Makes sense," Parker offered. "Back in the 1920s, silver mining would have been going full steam. They would have had a much bigger population of workers. Maybe lots of abandoned houses have just crumbled into nothing."
“Or someone tore houses apart looking for the book,” said Molly grimly.
I felt stupid. Like one of those TV psychic shows where the camera follows the psychic around waiting for him or her to show that they really aren't just fooling themselves that they can see more than the rest of us.
Zach tuned into my discomfort. "How about we sit for a while and let Cassie take a look around by herself? She probably can't think with us tagging along."
Emerson stared at me, his hand shading his eyes from the sun. "Yeah, if that's ok with Cassie, let's do that."
"I don't think she should go off alone." Molly stepped beside me. "I'll go with her.”
I turned back to look at Zach just before we left. There was something sad and distant in his expression, the way you’d look if you thought someone wasn’t coming back.
“Which way?” asked Molly.
“I wish I knew,” I told her.
I wandered along the river, trying to see the line of mules, trying to remember where they stopped. Even though it was winter, the air was slightly muggy, cloistered. I shrugged off my shirt and stuffed it into my backpack. Molly didn't seem bothered by the warmth of the day. Her pale skin always seemed cool. I was like mom—I sweated buckets.
I stepped up into the hills, avoiding the spiky arms of the cacti that grew here. An ancient tree clung precariously to the bare rock, its root system exposed to the elements. I closed my eyes. I’d seen the tree before. The house was close to the tree.
But no matter which way I went, I couldn’t find the house. Maybe there were a hundred trees hanging onto rocks around here, all looking the same.
“Maybe we should try to hypnotize me again,” I told Molly.
I was about to give up and head back when I noticed
the crumbling foundations of a stone house—barely noticeable amongst the rocks. It was the house. I was sure of it. But the walls were gone, almost leveled to the ground. We’d come here for nothing.
A figure in a cowboy hat and checked shirt walked towards us, his shadow crossing the reddish dirt. He was tall—taller than most people you see. My father. I'd never seen him in anything but a suit before. He stepped in front of me, tipping his hat up. "Cassie. You were a trick to find."
"Andy? I thought you were going to meet us at Batopilas tomorrow."
He shrugged. "I came early.”
“Okay.” I tried not sound peeved. It was hard enough trying to find a needle in a haystack without my father being here. “This is Molandah, anyway.”
Andy shook her hand. “A distant cousin of Cassie’s—on Cassie’s mom’s side of course—right?”
“Right,” Molly said awkwardly.
“You two aren’t here on your own, are you?”
I pointed downstream. “The boys are down there somewhere.”
I glanced helplessly at Molly and walked with him back to Zach, Emerson and Parker. They jumped up and shook Andy’s hand as I introduced them.
My father folded his arms. "Have you lot had lunch? Shout you all at the local hotel."
We trekked back to Urique and lunched on tortillas at an outdoor eatery, shaded by the abundant trees on the main street.
Zach smacked his lips. “Those were good.” He politely thanked my father and then suggested everyone leave me alone with him for a catch up.”
Parker yawned. “Done deal. I feel like a siesta.”
They stood and left the table, Molly shooting me a sympathetic smile. I’d told her how uncomfortable I was whenever I had conversations with my father.
Andy asked the waiter for tea with lime, without asking if I even liked tea or lime. In truth, I hadn’t had a single hot drink since the escape from the dollhouse. I couldn’t bear the thought of it.
He stirred his tea. "So your mother tells me that you and Zach are an item?"
I blushed. "We're good friends."
"And his family are the Batistes?"
"Yeah. From Miami. Just not the part of Miami I grew up in."
"Yeah… yeah." Andy had a habit of answering that to things I said. It always felt as though he were asking questions to be polite, without being interested in the answers.
"I must apologize for not getting over to Miami to see you sooner."
"It's okay," I said clumsily. "You did make the trip out to Australia."
His eyes looked pained. "You were barely speaking back then. I think you barely knew I was there."
"I kind of closed up for a while there. Trying to process everything I guess."
He was silent for a time, studying me. I grew uncomfortable. He'd never paid me too much attention before. Barely seconds used to pass before he was staring off into the distance or taking a phone call. Even here, out in the middle of what seemed a wilderness to me, there was that strangeness.
I peeled the skin off the wedge of lime that sat next to my cup of tea, unsure of what to say next.
“You look so much like your mother,” he said finally. “You sound like her too, the way you put a sentence together.”
“Is that a bad thing?” Immediately, I wished I’d kept my mouth shut.
“No, it’s not a bad thing. It’s a good thing. Your mom is a lot cleverer than I’ll ever be.”
“You’re a hotshot lawyer. You must be full of smarts.” I managed a smile.
“You know what they say about lawyers. They’re full of it all right.” He chuckled at his own joke.
“So what are your plans for the next few days?” I asked him. “Are you actually going to be staying in Copper Canyon?”
“Yeah. I’ve scheduled a week off.”
“Well thanks. I appreciate you coming. Mom wouldn’t have let me travel here if you hadn’t been dropping in.”
“I guessed that much. What’s next on the agenda? You’ve seen Batopilas and Urique so far—where to from here?”
“Just a few odd treks here and there. Maybe we’ll go see the Hacienda ruins tomorrow.”
“Mind if I come along?”
“You’d want to come?”
“Sure. Why not?”
There was no way I was going to be able to explain to him why I was really here and what we were going to be doing. But I couldn’t see how I was going to be able to put him off.
He pressed his lips together. “Well, I have some work to finish up. I’ll head back to my room and get some done.”
I wandered back to the lodge. The boys sat in the lobby, sipping multi-colored drinks. Emerson held up his glass to me. “Thought we’d try some of the local spirits. Hey, when in Mexico….”
They looked like they’d been relaxing there for the past hour, save for the sweat soaking through their shirts.
Zach stood his head to give me a light kiss. “Sorry, I reek!”
“Where have you guys been?”
“We had a look on our own for the book,” Zach admitted. “Trying to save you from having to do it. We checked out a few of the caves up there.”
I smiled up at him in surprise. “Find anything?”
“Yeah,” he said. “About six scorpions, fifty bats and one buzzard.”
“He forgot to mention the bones,” added Parker. “Loads of bones.”
“Well, thanks for trying. Did Molandah go with you?”
“Nah, she went to have a sleep in her room,” said Zach. He nestled his head against mine. “How about you and me take off for a while by ourselves later?” he whispered.
I nodded. The sound and touch of Zach was fast blowing away that whole awkward scene with my father.
The local Indians strummed guitars in the streets and beat drums in the hills, serenading the setting sun. Zach and I stepped along the cobblestoned street, easing into the balmy air, feeling the velvety night drifting in. I’d changed my hiking books and shorts for a casual, strapless dress.
Zach put his arm around me, squeezing my shoulder. “Long day?”
“Yeah. But everything’s good now.”
Zach pulled me behind a lush, flowering tree. “I’ve wanted to do this all day.” He bent to kiss me, his lips crushing into mine.
The kiss was long, growing more intense. I didn’t want it to stop—ever. I wanted to live inside his kiss. No thoughts, no words—just this.
But he moved away, pressing his head against my temple. “Want you so badly. But there’s so many things pulling you away from me… so many things.” He held my face between his hands, staring at me with soulful eyes. “I want to hold you like this forever, but you’re a paper doll, Cassie. A beautiful paper doll. You’ll blow away from me soon. I never really had you. I can never keep hold of you.”
I gazed at him numbly. “It’s me who won’t be able to keep hold of you. You already warned me.” I bit my lip. “I understand. And I’m here with you, knowing that.”
“I wish I could just shut my mouth. This was supposed to be a nice night together. And here I am wrecking it.”
“You’re not wrecking anything. But I agree, you should shut your…” I kissed him full on his mouth. He still smelled vaguely of the tequila he’d drunk earlier.
A group of men moved through the main street. The Indians stared openly at the newcomers in town. The travelers were dressed in those clothes the rich wear when they are trying to ‘dress down’.
“Let’s go somewhere more private.” Zach took my hand and we wandered away in the opposite direction, towards the pounding drums that kept time with the heart that crashed in my chest.
32. SPECULUM NEMUS
I dreamt of the dollhouse—of the relentless cold and the stone angel who gazed down on us as we slept. I knew now that whoever placed the angel there had placed her not to give anyone hope of being saved, but to remind them of death.
I opened my eyes to the sight of high mountain peaks, capped with snow. Part of m
y mind was sweeping backwards, remembering another time. No, not remembering. Seeing. Seeing things from a different time.
Molly sat huddled with a blanket around her, staring at the same mountains. She turned, coming to sit by me on the bed. “Cassie, are you okay? You don’t look well.”
I shut my eyes tightly. “I want you to take me back. Back to the time of Tobias and Jessamine.”
She moved her concerned face in front of mine. “Now? Are you sure?”
“Yes. Please just do it.”
Molly stepped over to move a chair to my bedside. She brushed a strand of hair from my forehead. “If this works, remember you can stop it at any time. Say the words, get out now.”
I nodded.
She cleared her throat. “Horror unique animos, simul ipsa silentia terrent.” She ran her hands through her thick hair nervously. “I hope I got that right. I’ve been practising.”
I felt myself begin to drift.
“Cassie,” she said, “you will go back to when Tobias and Jessamine Fiveash were here in Urique. You will see a child named… Philomena….”
I shifted, rolling onto my back in the bed. The next moment I could barely feel my limbs.
An aged man sat on the edge of his bed in a white singlet. Tobias. Jessamine slept soundly. A short distance away, a mother and child slept in one bed while the men slept on the floor. The child opened her huge dark eyes, staring at Tobias. She crept from her mother’s arms and over to the rug on the floor.
Tobias’ eyes crinkled as he smiled at her. “You remind me of Jessamine when she was your age.”
Then he frowned deeply, as though he’d just had another thought. He leant to scoop up his coat which was neatly folded on the floor beside his bed. He pulled out a battered book—a book with a cover of indeterminate color. The mirrored image of a tree was barely discernible on the cover.
