by Joan Rylen
“Let’s check out the map. It’s in the glove box.” Vivian remembered seeing it when Al searched the car for bugs.
Kate spread the map on the hood and everyone gathered ’round.
“The ruins of Tulum don’t look too far.” Vivian said, pointing to a spot a little ways South. “Why don’t we go there?”
“Do you think that’s too far away from Playa? I mean, Detective Vega did tell us to stick around,” Kate said.
Vivian felt the never-one-to-respect-authority side of herself rearing up. “Nahhhh. It looks like maybe 30 miles or so. That’s not far.”
“It doesn’t look like there’s anything else around besides Xel Ha, the aquarium,” Lucy said.
“If I’m going to look at fish I better be wearing a swim mask and snorkel,” Wendy said.
They all agreed. Of the two, Tulum sounded more interesting.
Vivian went to get into the passenger’s seat and was practically strangled by the chinstrap of her sombrero, which was still hanging around her neck. She twirled around and yanked it off.
“Hey, it’s not every day we wear these things,” she said while the girls chuckled at her.
“We look absolutely ridiculous,” Wendy said.
“You’re right, let’s put everything in the trunk.” Vivian was ready to be free of her souvenirs, wind chimes included.
“I can’t have my new tutti-frutti hat gettin’ smashed,” Kate said, patting it gently. “It’s stayin’ with me.”
They packed themselves into the car and headed towards Tulum, followed by the pesky reporter, Lupe Mendoza.
Five minutes into the drive, Lucy started digging around in her purse. “Does anyone have any cash?”
Kate, who sported her tutti-frutti hat while she drove, said, “After my very festive purchase I only have one dollar left.”
“I spent the last of my cash paying for my stuff and Pierre’s.” Wendy double checked her purse.
“That did it for my stash. I don’t even have any change,” Vivian said.
“Me either.” Lucy put her wallet back into her bag. “What if we get pulled over by the police? Aren’t you supposed to have money to pay them off or something?”
“Why would we need to pay a bribe for a traffic stop?” Kate asked. “What would we get stopped for anyway? I’m not speeding.”
Lucy leaned forward and gripped Vivian’s seat. “I’ve heard that the police down here will pull over Americans for no reason and threaten to take them to jail. They have to bribe the police to let them go. The cops do it knowing people will pay them off, but we have no bribe money. They’ll take us to jail! Haven’t y’all seen those episodes of Locked Up Abroad?”
She really has watched too much of that show, Vivian thought.
“We’ve been through one round of bribes, we can handle another,” Wendy said with sarcasm. “Anybody have a nice watch?”
Lucy inspected everyone’s jewelry. She wasn’t wearing any and neither was Vivian. Wendy had on small silver hoop earrings, and Kate, concerned about losing her wedding band and engagement ring on vacation, had left them at home and only worn a thin silver band in their place.
“We don’t have on anything nice enough to pay them off,” she paused for breath and continued, “Don’t you remember what happened to those college students in Matamoros a few years ago? They were on South Padre Island on spring break and got into some trouble when they went across the border into Matamoros. They were taken to jail and the U.S. ambassador to Mexico could not get them extradited.”
“Lucy, those kids picked a fight with a cop in a bar.” Vivian tried to reassure her. “Besides, it was Matamoros, not Playa del Carmen, where they depend on the tourists. They wouldn’t have any tourists if they were locking them all up.”
Lucy, unswayed by the argument, continued, “Let’s not forget that you’re under suspicion of a murder, Viv. And they’ve taken all of our passports.”
“Kate, pull into the next ATM you find.” Vivian suggested.
It wasn’t hard to keep an eye out for the next ATM, gas station or bank, because there was nothing on the road. This only got Lucy more agitated.
“Let me see the map,” she demanded. “Maybe it will have a legend as to where gas stations, etc. are.” She researched for a moment. “Nope, no legend, only the touristy highlights and roads.”
Kate attempted to sound hopeful. “Maybe they will have a shop or something at Tulum. You know they’ve got to sell souvenirs, so maybe there is a way for us to get some cash.”
“Yeah,” Lucy mumbled. “If we make it.”
Thought of more trouble with the police was unsettling and the rest of the drive was subdued.
Lupe Mendoza must have figured out where they were going and lost interest. She turned around halfway into the drive. Probably needed to get crackin’ on writing the Quinta Avenida story anyway.
The girls reached Tulum without incident and pulled up to the guard in the parking lot. “Fifty pesos,” he said and held out his hand.
Kate reached into her purse and pulled out her lone dollar. “This is all we have. We are all out of cash.”
The guard shook his head, still holding out his hand. “Fifty pesos.”
Wendy leaned into the front seat. “No tenemos mas dinero, señor. Solamente uno dolares. Necesitamos un banco.”
The guard shook his head again, thrust his hand out farther, and said in a more demanding tone, “fifty pesos!”
Lucy was back in panic mode. She leaned out her back window. “Señor, we don’t have any more money on us but we can get some if there is a bank. Is there one inside the gate? We’ll go get some money and come back and pay you? I promise.”
He only stood there, shaking his head.
Lucy continued to plea with him in earnest. Occasionally, Wendy yelled out “Necesitamos un banco!”
Lucy must have worn him down because he eventually barked at Kate, “GO!” and manually lifted the gate.
They entered Tulum a bit rattled, but feeling like champs after winning that round.
CHAPTER 41
TULUM HAD a small shopping area with an ATM tucked into a corner by the restrooms. The girls took turns withdrawing 2500 pesos, around $200 U.S., per Lucy’s instructions. Vivian checked her account balance while she was at it. It wasn’t looking the happiest. Damn!
True to her word, Lucy ran to the parking lot and gave the guard 50 pesos. “I think he was surprised I paid him,” Lucy said when she met up with the girls in the souvenir shop. “He had a bewildered look on his face but he gave me a map and this pamphlet on Tulum,” she paused to look around, “this shop reminds me an awful lot of the last shop we were in on Quinta Avenida. Did y’all do a Stella check?”
“All clear.” Wendy opened up the map. “Self-guided tour. Y’all ready?”
They followed her onto the ruin grounds, where there was no breeze and no relief from the blazing sun.
“Holy crap,” Kate said. “This is hot, like Africa-hot.”
“I’d say it’s more like hot-tamale hot since we’re in Mexico.” Wendy fanned herself with the pamphlet.
They ventured toward the Great Palace, Frescos Temple and El Castillo beyond that. Wendy stopped fanning herself long enough to read off a few tidbits of history. “Pre-Columbian Mayan city, one of the last cities inhabited after the Spanish arrived, built between the 13th and 15th centuries.”
“Didn’t they make the human sacrifices?” Lucy asked.
“How morbid,” Kate said, looking at the many steps on El Castillo.
“Doesn’t say in the pamphlet,” Wendy responded.
Vivian was more interested in the big iguanas lying here and there, basking in the sun and soaking up the rays. She’d never seen a reptile that large, well at least one that wasn’t behind glass, so she was intrigued. She stopped and looked at one as he rested on a rock. He was at eye level with her and wasn’t the least bit frightened. In fact, he may have been bored, he opened and closed his mouth a few times and st
retched his front leg out, then looked elsewhere.
At least something is enjoying the heat.
“I’m melting,” Wendy said in her best Wicked Witch of the East voice and wiped a trickle of sweat off the side of her neck.
“I’m in need of some serious shade,” Lucy said. “I’m going to suffer third-degree burns on my beautiful pasty-pasty white skin.”
Kate stepped in front of them, hands on hips. “I didn’t drive all the way out here a nervous wreck for us to not tour these ruins. I’m hot, too, but we’re sweating out toxins or something, right Lucy?”
Lucy groaned.
“Hell, I’m not that toxic,” Vivian said. “We should have brought our sombreros. They would have at least offered some shade.”
To appease Kate, the girls reluctantly continued their jaunt through the ruins. They even learned a few things, thanks to Wendy reading the brochure.
Lucy lagged a bit, so Vivian stopped to wait for her.
“I should have worn my tennis shoes, not flip-flops,” Lucy said.
Wendy, who was a good 15 yards up ahead of them, yelled, “Y’all need to come see this. This must be why the Mayans built their city here.”
Kate reached her first and gasped. Lucy and Vivian trudged up to the column she stood next to and looked out at one of the most beautiful scenes Vivian had ever laid eyes on.
Tulum sat on a cliff about 40 feet above the sea. The beach below was completely deserted and the clear-water waves splashed invitingly against the white sand.
“Now that’s where we need to be.” Vivian pointed to the beach. “How the heck do we get down there?”
“I don’t think we do, unfortunately.” Wendy studied the map. “The brochure doesn’t show a way down.”
“How is it there is almost no breeze, yet Tulum sits high on a cliff overlooking the ocean?” Lucy took the brochure from Wendy and used it to block the sun.
“I can’t believe people ever survived without air conditioning.” Wendy snapped a few pictures of the view and of them.
“I’m a modern girl, I need myself some modern a/c,” Vivian said. “Let’s get outta here. I either need some of those waves or some fabulous Freon blowing in my face.”
Kate threw her hands up in surrender. “Okay, okay. I’m happy. I can go home and say I did something educational between killing sprees.” She suddenly realized what she said and froze, covering her mouth.
They all turned and looked at Kate, shocked at her choice of words.
“Did you say ‘killings sprees?’ ” Vivian asked.
“I meant killing my brain cells. Seriously! I didn’t mean…you know!”
“Crap, Kate! Not even funny.” Wendy slapped her arm with the map.
They all started cracking up. One of those crazed, I-need-a-stress-relief kind of laughs.
The heat must be getting to us.
They stopped in the visitors center on the way out and bought some bottled water. Kate cranked up the car and they all hoped for cool air. Nope, non-existent, so they drove out of the dirt parking lot windows down and waved at the guard. He didn’t smile or wave back.
“How do you say ‘Mr. Nice Guy’ in Spanish?” Lucy asked.
Wendy gave a bark of laughter. “Ha, I don’t know, Señor Hombre Bueño? Probably not. My Spanish education only goes so far.”
“So that concludes the educational portion of our vacation,” Kate said, getting back on the highway. “What’s next on our agenda, ladies?”
“Let’s get out of Playa for the evening.” Vivian sat in front with Kate and was quick to answer. “Isn’t there a ferry going to Cozumel? Let’s catch it and go see what trouble we can get into over there.”
“I’m not sure about the trouble part, but it sounds like fun.” Lucy poured a little bottled water between her boobs.
“Well, that’s one way to cool off,” Wendy said. “It’s not like the hot breeze is going to cool us off.” She trickled some water down her shirt. “Ah, that feels good.”
“Oh, I’m in,” Vivian said as she unbuttoned her shirt and splashed water down her front.
Then she grinned and held the bottle out towards Kate. “Need some breastabule splashage?”
“Uh, no Viv. I appreciate the offer and all, but that’s okay. I wore my cotton breastabule holder. It breathes.”
Wendy and Lucy roared with laughter from the back seat.
The drive back to their hotel was uneventful. They periodically splashed more water on themselves trying to stay cool and kept an eye out for cops.
Once back at La Vida de Playa, Arturo let them into “special” parking and told them the fastest way to walk to the ferry. The girls left their impromptu souvenirs in the trunk, bought their tickets, hurried to the docking area and hopped on just in time. The paparazzi hadn’t seen them. They could enjoy Cozumel tonight and not worry about winding up on the evening news.
As the ferry pulled away from shore, Ponytail’s wrecked SUV pulled into the parking lot. He got out and slammed the door, which popped back open.
“He looks ticked,” Wendy said.
“Guess he missed the boat!” Lucy joked.
CHAPTER 42
VIVIAN DIDN’T want to feel confined by the crowded, though air-conditioned, interior of the ferry, so the girls opted for the breezy and less crowded upper deck. She also wanted to smell the ocean and feel sunshine on her face.
A three-piece band roamed amongst the passengers, singing to ladies and hitting people up for tips.
“Reminds me of the taqueria on Richmond Avenue in Houston,” Wendy said. “Great place for 2 a.m. breakfast. I’m going to have to request a song.”
She wandered over and spoke to the guitar player, passing him a few pesos. She joined the girls at the railing as the band began a new song.
“This is our song!” she said.
After a few beats Kate asked, “What are they saying? One ton tomato?”
Wendy laughed and responded, “No, it’s ‘Guantanamera.’ You’ve never heard this?”
Kate shook her head, as did Lucy.
“I consider the late night taqueria experience part of my college education.”
Vivian had heard the song on her own taqueria adventures, and said, “Amen to that, sista! I’d cheers you, but we don’t have any cheersing materials.”
Lucy stopped the drink girl walking by who was carrying a small cooler filled with an assortment of beverage choices. “Round of tequila shots!”
“Oh no no no, not for me,” Vivian said. “I’m tequila’d out at the moment, but I’ll take a Dos Equis. With lime.”
The drink girl nodded.
Wendy and Kate also vetoed the tequila but ordered cervezas.
“I’m drinking this for medicinal purposes,” Lucy declared, holding up her shot. “It will help me relax and liven up all at the same time. Down the hatch.”
We’ll see about that, Vivian thought.
Vivian started to relax a little from the beer and being on the water. It also helped being on a vessel where no one suspected her of murder, was chasing after her, or was shoving a camera in her face.
The ferry was about to dock in Cozumel, when Vivian felt her stomach growl.
“Wendy, go ask the guitar player where’s the best spot to eat over here.” Vivian rubbed her stomach. “I’m starving.”
Wendy waited for him to finish their last song before interrupting. She came back in a minute shrugging her shoulders. “He didn’t suggest any restaurants but said we have to go to a place called the No Name bar.”
“The what?” Kate asked.
“It’s seriously called No Name,” Wendy said. “He gave me directions and said it’s not far off the main drag. There’s no sign, just a blue door next to a gold exchange place. Said it’s more of a hangout for locals.”
“Ok, I’m in,” Vivian said, feeling her stomach growl again. “Where should we eat?”
“We’ll pass plenty of places along the way,” Lucy said. “Let’s just go see what
looks good.”
The ferry docked and they followed the crowd toward the main area of town. A line of taxis waited to take people to destinations farther away and a pushy guy offered scooters for rent. To Vivian, this part of town looked a lot like Playa del Carmen. Tons of shops with souvenirs, jewelry, pottery, etc. They walked past Señor Frogs, Carlos and Charlie’s and waved off the merchants trying to get them into their stores. “My turn, my turn,” they called.
The girls wandered up to a restaurant called the French Quarter.
“Anybody up for some Cajun and Creole food?” Wendy asked.
“Cajun in Mexico?” Kate looked skeptical.
“Let’s go in and see what it’s like. I’m starved!” Vivian said.
They walked in and felt like they’d been transported to Bourbon Street. Emerald green, gold and purple was the color scheme, accented by Mardi Gras beads and masks, along with gator heads, an inflatable crawfish, and fleur de lis everywhere.
“This is cool,” Wendy said. “New Orleans without the crowd.”
“Or the smell,” Lucy added.
They were seated at a table by a waitress who then took their order for standard Louisiana fare. Lucy ordered a “yard-long” hurricane, Vivian a Jax beer and Wendy and Kate both ordered regular-sized hurricanes.
The waitress arrived with their drinks and they laughed at the hurricanes. The little paper umbrellas were torn to shreds.
“Guess they’ve been through a hurricane,” Lucy said, then sucked on her yard-and-a-half-long straw. “Maybe our next trip should be to New Orleans. This thing is yum!”
Lucy posed with her prize and Vivian snapped her picture.
“I love New Orleans,” Wendy said. “It will have to go on the Getaway Girlz destination list for sure.”
They stuffed themselves family style with red beans and rice, etouffee, jambalaya and gumbo, all of which tasted like a top tier New Orleans chef had made it. Bam that, Emeril.
They paid the bill and slowly stood up to leave.
“I feel like Jabba the Hut,” Vivian laughed, then made some “Jabba noises.”
Lucy belted out growling roars like Chewie and Kate beeped like R2-D2.
