The Madre de Aguas of Cuba

by Adam Gidwitz

  Uchenna and Elliot darted forward and hurried into the hollow bottom of the serving cart. Elliot crouched, making himself as small as possible, while Uchenna arranged the white frilly cloth to hide them.

  Only the slightest bit of gray light filtered through the cloth, and it was dark and cramped in the cart. Elliot was sweating. Not a moment too soon, they heard Fauna say, “¡Una pena! ¡Un día de estos tienen que pasar por mi casa! ¡Adiós! ¡Nos vemos pronto!” and the cart began to move. They could see the server’s shoes as he pushed them up the ramp, grunting from the weight and mumbling to himself about “El hombre loco.” With one more big push, the cart rolled swiftly through the side door.

  Through the white cloth Uchenna and Elliot saw a thousand flickers of golden light. They had made it into the grand, chandelier-filled lobby of the Schmoke International Hotel.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  Elliot and Uchenna held still and listened hard. The banquet hadn’t started yet. They heard silverware clinking onto plates and chairs being unloaded from handcarts. Elliot and Uchenna waited.

  Finally, the servers left, and Uchenna and Elliot heard only a steady rushing sound, like a fan running on high. After a few quiet moments, Uchenna poked her head out from under the cloth.

  The lobby was even more grand than she had imagined. The ceilings were so tall it was like being in a cathedral. A wide black marble staircase led up to the second floor. And the rushing sound they had heard wasn’t a fan at all: It was the fountain made of gold. Uchenna squinted.

  It can’t be.

  Elliot poked his head out next to hers. “The fountain is shaped like the Madre de aguas?!”

  From within the lobby, the shape of the fountain was unmistakable. It was clearly the Madre de aguas. Water shot out of horns rendered in gold and cascaded into the pool below.

  Near the fountain was a tower of nine black barrels of Schmoke’s Sure-to-Choke insecticide.

  Uchenna said, “Come on, let’s make a run for one of the tables.”

  No sooner had they climbed out of the cart than they heard footsteps, tip-tapping down the marble staircase into the lobby.

  “Hurry!” Uchenna urged Elliot, who dove under the nearest table.

  At which point, Elliot almost screamed.

  Two people were already hiding under the table.

  Luckily, the two people were Yoenis and Professor Fauna.

  “How did you get here?” Uchenna hissed at them.

  Yoenis said, “The professor told one of the guards outside that he was the Captain of the Captains of Agriculture. The dude was so confused he just let us in.”

  Just then, a growl emanated from Jersey’s backpack.

  “Shh!” whispered Elliot. “Someone’s coming!”

  All they could see from under the table was feet walking by. Two pairs of feet, wearing black leather shoes with tassels. The leather was so shiny it could have been a mirror.

  “Well, Milton,” said a voice, “our plan has worked to perfection.”

  Uchenna and Elliot locked eyes.

  “Of course it did, Edmund. It was our plan.”

  The Schmoke Brothers were in Havana.

  Right next to them.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  Edmund Schmoke was saying to his brother Milton, “The farmers really ate up that Sure-To-Choke insecticide.”

  “Everyone did,” said Milton. “It’s all over their fruits and vegetables!”

  They both laughed.

  “Who is that?” Yoenis asked in a whisper that was barely a breath.

  “The Schmoke Brothers,” Elliot replied.

  “The tanker truck is coming in an hour,” Edmund announced. “And make sure you do not mention the location of our fishy friend while in the hotel. The servers and help are not to be trusted. By tomorrow she’ll be in Florida, and our Everglades bottling operation will be underway!”

  Milton chuckled. “Those farmers will be begging us for our bottled water. By next week these poor Cubans will be our best customers.”

  “My favorite part is, the Cubans won’t know it’s their own water we’re selling to them!”

  “Ha-HA-ha!”

  “Ha-ha-HA!”

  “Now,” Milton went on, returning to a brisk tone. “I’m handling this meeting. We have to seal the deal; make sure the people know that we are their water source.”

  “Oh, the deal shall be sealed. As tightly as a bottle of Schmokey Mountain Natural Spring Water.”

  “Which is bottled nowhere near the Smoky Mountains.”

  “Hence ‘Schmokey.’ Legally airtight.”

  “Watertight!”

  “Ha-HA-ha-ha!”

  “Ha-ha-HA-ha!”

  “These guys have the weirdest sense of humor,” Uchenna whispered.

  Elliot shushed her.

  “Ahh . . .” Edmund Schmoke sighed as their laughter subsided. “It is delightful being smarter than everyone else.”

  “Isn’t it?” his brother agreed. It sounded like he was removing a handkerchief from his pocket and wiping tears of mirth from his eyes.

  A bell chimed, and Uchenna and Elliot could hear the sound of servers reentering the lobby. The Schmokes ended their conversation and sauntered off.

  “We’ve got to stop all of this,” Uchenna whispered. “Job number one is to save the Madre de agaus from those oily pieces of garbage. But we also can’t let these folks get duped by the Schmokes!”

  “You two find the Madre de aguas,” Yoenis told them. He gestured at the professor. “Twitchy here and I will figure out a way to disrupt this meeting. Right, Twitchy?”

  Professor Fauna’s right eyebrow was going up and down like a sideways metronome.

  “Okay,” said Elliot. “Let’s go.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  Uchenna and Elliot moved fast, crawling from table to table and ultimately into the hallway that led to the kitchen. There, they leaned against the wall to catch their breath.

  Uchenna, between inhales and exhales, asked Elliot, “Where could you even keep the Madre de aguas in a hotel? She’s enormous! Or at least, she can be when she wants to be.”

  “And she makes water,” Elliot went on. “I mean, look at this carpeting.” He shifted his weight over the deep plush carpet in the hallway. “If I spilled even a teaspoon of water on a carpet like this, Bubbe would murder me.”

  Uchenna punched Elliot in the arm.

  “Ow!”

  “Elliot, you’re a genius.” Uchenna peeled herself off the wall and marched down the hallway to the elevator, where a hotel directory hung next to a stairwell. “There’s only one place you could keep that much water in a hotel.”

  Elliot came up next to Uchenna as she ran her fingers down the list of different locations.

  Roof Deck—Roof

  Spa—Sky Lobby

  Anti-Balding Center—Sky Lobby

  Money Counting Chamber—13th Floor

  Ballrooms—Mezzanine Level

  Diamond Rooms—Upper Mezzanine Level

  Lobby—Ground Floor

  Fancy Private Lobby for the Embarrassingly Wealthy—Ground Floor, Other Side

  Elliot’s finger stopped.

  Pool—Basement

  “There,” said Elliot.

  Uchenna nodded. She pointed at the bright glow of the emergency exit sign, right above the stairwell beside them. They pushed open the door and broke into a run down the stairs, plunging deeper and deeper into the bowels of the Schmoke Hotel, Jersey squeaking every time his backpack bounced against Uchenna’s back.

  The farther down they went, the more the smell of chlorine filled their nostrils. It smelled way worse than a normal hotel swimming pool. It was so strong that Elliot felt his eyes burning, and Uchenna thought she might gag.

  They reached the base
ment and pushed through enormous glass doors that opened onto a bigger-than-Olympic-sized swimming pool below an arched brick ceiling.

  And in that bigger-than-Olympic-sized swimming pool was a huge scaly creature with ornate horns, midnight-blue eyes, and a body like the biggest snake that’s ever lived.

  Except this time, the Madre de aguas didn’t rise to meet them. She didn’t even raise her head. She wasn’t moving at all.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  “Is she . . .” Uchenna couldn’t even finish her sentence. The Madre de aguas floated, lifeless, in the Schmoke Hotel swimming pool.

  “No,” Elliot said quietly. “They wouldn’t do that. They need her for their bottling business, remember?”

  They watched her a few minutes longer, and to Uchenna’s relief, her body swelled and contracted . . . just slightly. She was breathing. Though barely.

  “It must be all the chlorine,” Elliot went on. “We know she doesn’t react well to—”

  “Welcome!” said a booming voice.

  Elliot and Uchenna grabbed each other and looked around wildly. The voice echoed; it seemed to be coming from everywhere at once.

  “Thank you so much for joining us!”

  Elliot whispered, “Who’s saying that?”

  Then Uchenna pointed at a vent in the ceiling. Elliot exhaled.

  It was the meeting, getting underway.

  “Why yes,” Milton Schmoke was saying, “there does seem to be a drought in Cuba. We have no idea why!”

  “But,” Edmund continued, “we would be more than happy to provide water to the tourism industry and to the farmers of Cuba!”

  “For a very modest fee,” said Milton.

  Uchenna and Elliot locked eyes. There was no time to lose.

  * * *

  • • •

  Back upstairs in the banquet hall, Yoenis and Fauna were gathering their courage. They were huddled together under the very center of the table, trying to avoid letting any of the guests’ knees or shoes touch them.

  “You have all been such excellent customers of our Sure-to-Choke insecticide!” Milton Schmoke was saying. He and his brother were framed by the tower of nine black barrels.

  “And it works, does it not?” Edmund added. “Have you ever seen an insecticide that works so well?”

  One of the farmers said loudly, “It is hard to tell if it works, or if the sequía has gotten so bad that all the insects just died.”

  “Indeed, indeed! So, one way or another, it works!” Edmund said, smiling. There were some confused murmurs from the guests.

  “Moving right along!” Milton said quickly. “We solved your bug problem. Now we will solve your drought problem! In front of you, you will find contracts for the importation of Schmokey Mountain Natural Spring Water! As much as you need! Just turn to the last page of the contract before you—please ignore all that fine print, it’s meaningless legal jargon—pick up the Schmoke International Hotel pen that is sitting next to the contracts—complimentary! You’re welcome!—and sign on the dotted line!”

  “Trust us! You’ll be sorry!” added Edmund. His brother shot him a look. “If you don’t sign, I mean!” Edmund tried to laugh pleasantly.

  There was more uncertain muttering from the assembled Captains of Agriculture.

  Yoenis touched Professor Fauna’s shoulder.

  “¿Ahora?” he murmured.

  “¡AHORA!” Professor Fauna shouted, standing straight up and toppling the table over, with much crashing of glass and silverware.

  “¡Mentirosos!” Professor Fauna cried, pointing at the Schmoke brothers. Then he turned to the farmers. “Primero, me presento. ¡Yo voy a ser su mejor amigo . . . en cuanto vengan a mi casa!”

  The guests stared. The servers stopped. Milton and Edmund Schmoke were so startled that they forgot the rest of their speech. “What did he say?” Edmund stammered.

  “He just invited us all to his house,” a farmer translated.

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  Yoenis put his hand on Professor Fauna’s shoulder. “Professor, I’ll handle this.”

  Yoenis turned to the crowd and said, “Perdonen por la interrupción, pero, ¡estos señores sí están mintiendo! Su insecticida es peligroso. Solo lo vendieron para envenenar el agua y traer a la Madre de aguas al hotel, para enjaularla y usarla para su negocio de agua embotellada!”

  A man in a black suit scurried up to Edmund and Milton Schmoke and whispered in their ears. Their translator, Yoenis thought, and went on in more rapid and fluent Spanish.

  Yoenis explained the Schmoke Brothers’ scheme to capture the Madre de aguas and bottle the water she produced and sell it back to Cuba. The guests began to murmur to one another. Comprehension, and then anger, dawned on their faces.

  Once the translator had caught them up, Edmund Schmoke exclaimed, “The Madre de aguas? What kind of nonsense is that? Milton and I are far too intelligent to believe such silly legends! We’ve never even heard of the Madre de aguas.”

  The Captains of Agriculture turned to see how Yoenis would respond to this denial.

  Yoenis said, “If you’ve never heard of the Madre de aguas . . . why would you make it the centerpiece of your fountain?!” He pointed at the gaudy golden fountain, spewing water merrily from its horns.

  The heads of every Captain of Agriculture swiveled toward the fountain. And a roar erupted from them all.

  The Schmokes began to stammer:

  “Uh . . . we . . . we didn’t know that was the Madre de aguas!”

  “Uh . . . right!”

  “Some peasant artisan made it for us! For cheap!”

  “Exactly! No . . . expensive! We only like expensive things.”

  “Of course! Yes! We just thought it was . . . a . . . a . . . weird, overgrown tadpole!”

  A farmer stood up so fast his chair fell over. “Tadpole? ¿En serio?” he demanded. “The Madre de aguas has visited my well and kept my farm going for years and years! At least, she did, until recently.”

  “She used to visit my creek, too!” shouted a bearded farmer from the back. “I had tons of fresh water . . . before you two came along with your pink poison!”

  Another farmer stood. “We can all thank Oshún for all the sweet waters in Cuba. And these two slimy serpientes,” she snapped at the Schmokes, “have disrespected her!”

  “Now, now, mi gente,” said a farmer with a wide-brimmed hat, also standing up. “Every good Catholic knows that we get fresh water from María, Mother of God. May she keep us safe from evildoers—like the Schmokes!”

  “Don’t be silly!” said a communist official, wearing a suit and a green armband with a red star. “Those are old-fashioned beliefs! That is a statue of a snake, the majá! And all the animals of Cuba deserve to be protected!” He cleared his throat. “To honor the animals of Cuba, I will recite our national anthem!” And he began to sing:

  “Al combate, corred, bayameses . . .”

  The farmer with the wide-brimmed hat announced, “Then I’ll pray! Oh, santísima Virgen de la Caridad, Madre mía . . .”

  “Oshún, daughter of the river!” intoned another farmer.

  Yoenis had jumped up on a table, taken by the spirit of the moment. “I invoke the father of our liberty and the champion of the Cuban people, José Martí!” And he began reciting a poem.

  “Cultivo una rosa blanca . . .

  En julio como en enero,

  Para el amigo sincero

  Que me da su mano franca.

  Y para el cruel que me arranca

  El corazón con que vivo,

  Cardo ni oruga cultivo:

  Cultivo la rosa blanca.”

  And then he said it in English, for the benefit of the Schmokes:

  “I grow a white rose

  In July and in January;

  I give it to my true friend,<
br />
  Who gives me his hand.

  And for the bully whose insults

  Break my heart,

  I give him neither weeds nor worms:

  For him, too, I have a white rose.”

  The walls of the ornate hotel lobby filled with the sounds of people singing, praying, and reciting poetry. They were all celebrating the Madre de aguas, or Oshún, or Mary—or, simply, Cuba—with their words. Milton and Edmund Schmoke stared. The voices of hundreds—farmers, government workers, and servers—were twining around one another’s, like the roots of a ceiba tree, twisting and twining into one trunk.

  “What on earth is happening?” Milton muttered.

  “I am not sure, brother,” Edmund replied.

  Milton Schmoke shouted at the top of his lungs. “We are offering you a once-in-a-lifetime business opportunity! Business! Money! ¡Dinero! Don’t you simpletons hear me?!”

  Edmund was disgusted. “Don’t try to reason with them. They’re hopeless. Security! Security!” He pointed at Yoenis and Professor Fauna. “Apprehend the trespassers!”

  “Yeah!” shouted Milton. “Get ’em!”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  Down by the pool, Elliot and Uchenna were desperately trying to rouse the Madre de aguas.

  “If we can’t get her moving, we can’t get her out of here,” Elliot was saying. “Do you have the water bottle?”

  Uchenna unzipped the backpack and took out a Miami Marlins water bottle that Yoenis had brought for his mom. When she did, Jersey tried to spring free. “Not yet, little guy,” Uchenna said. “We know you’re ready for action, but we need a plan.” Jersey growled at her in frustration. Uchenna handed Elliot the water bottle.

  “So we have this water bottle,” said Elliot. “But how are we gonna convince her to get into it?”