by J C Ryan
“Guilty conscience?” Rex smirked and reached for a piece of fruit, only to snatch his hand back when Pidro glared at him.
“I am making sure the food is fit for consumption at the celebration,” Pidro announced with injured dignity. “Did you want something? Besides to steal the feast food, I mean?”
Rex swallowed his laughter and straightened his face to a sober expression. “Yes, Pidro. I must ask you where the sacred spring is whose waters you have used to bathe your grandson?”
“That is not for outsiders to know, Ray. I am sorry.”
“Pidro, it’s possible those waters have been polluted, and that’s what is causing the children’s illness.”
Pidro drew back in horror. “We have made our children sick?” The wail he sent up caught the attention of everyone around them, and soon they were surrounded by concerned villagers.
Trying to calm the situation, Rex put his hand on Pidro’s shoulder. “No, not you. You did nothing wrong. It may not even be the water hurting them. We just have to check.”
The nearest villagers heard what he said, and a cacophony of mutterings and louder voices began in the crowd.
“What water?” “How can water hurt?” “Who was hurt by water?” and so forth, all jumbled together. Panic was rising, and to make things worse, Digger had arrived, and it looked as if he had his hackles up prepared to protect Rex. He was growling at those who came too close and snapping at a few who tried to get Rex’s attention by touching him.
“Everyone be quiet!” Rex snapped, raising his voice over the noise.
Since Pidro’s distress had only grown with the pandemonium, Rex waited for the noise to abate, and then addressed the crowd.
“People, there is nothing to worry about yet,” he said. “I just need to know where the sacred spring is. Its waters may be polluted, and that may be the reason the children are sick.” He left out the Leishmaniasis connection.
An older teen stepped forward. “I will show you the spring.”
Another round of protest went up, but the young man walked away from the crowd, and Rex followed. Some of them followed, shouting warnings at the young man, but he ignored them. When the followers fell away and went back to what they’d been doing before the disturbance, Rex drew even with his guide and asked why everyone had been angry.
“They are not ready for our way of life to end,” he said. “It is foolish. You and others like you have made your way to our village. Already, we have changed. Those who do not wish to change will argue and want to keep outsiders away. My friends and I welcome change. We want modern life—what you have.”
Rex walked along silently for a while. After a few minutes, he said, “Don’t be so quick to throw away the old ways. Sometimes the modern world is not nice. People like me want to come to villages like yours to get away from it.”
However, he couldn’t disagree that if modern life was going to intrude on the village, it might bring diseases the old medicine couldn’t cure, desires that the old ways couldn’t fulfill, and envy of the outside. It might have been better to leave the village untouched. But it was too late for that already.
The boy didn’t answer, and Rex didn’t pursue it.
The spring proved to be about three miles from the village, in the opposite direction from the ancient city, but higher on an adjoining peak. They reached it an hour after leaving the village. Where they intersected it, it flowed in a narrow runnel among small boulders and a few hardy, but stunted, bushes. It didn’t look special in any way. The young man knelt and brought a palmful up to drink. Rex stopped him and explained again that the water could be poisoned. Although, Rex couldn’t yet see anything around that would indicate the stream was polluted. “Where does it come from?” he asked.
“The headwaters are the sacred pool,” the young man answered. “The waters here are sacred, but less so. We will follow the stream from here.” He got up and began walking upstream beside the water, occasionally having to detour around a large boulder or hop across the stream to continue without scaling a cliff.
Rex was getting thirsty, and so was Digger. Rex had to stop him from lapping water up from the stream. But he’d rushed away from the village with neither his backpack nor Digger’s.
Another half hour brought them to a marked change in the terrain. To Rex, it looked like a landfill that had been recently covered with new dirt. Nothing grew there for several yards on either side of the stream, and it was a five-minute walk through it from end to end. It couldn’t have been more alien to its surroundings if it had been a tar pit or an endless sand dune.
“What is this?” he asked.
“It is where the ore is dumped after all precious metals have been extracted,” the young man answered. He seemed to think nothing of it, or of the fact that the sacred stream flowed through it.
“I need to take some of this dirt back with me,” Rex said.
“Why? It has no more gold or silver in it.”
“It may have what made the children sick in it,” Rex explained.
The young man’s expression was skeptical, but he waited while Rex scooped up some dirt and put it in a pocket, having nothing else to keep it in. They continued and soon were beyond the blighted area. Rex was convinced he’d found the reason, but his guide assured him they were near where the spring outflowed from the mountainside, the pool of sacred water. He reckoned he might as well see it.
In short order, they arrived. Again, it was not much to look at. Pretty, in an understated way, but it wasn’t spectacular. The water didn’t gush from a split in a stone, or anything dramatic. It bubbled up from under a small rock and made a pool no larger than an ordinary bathtub in area before tumbling over the lip that caused it to back up and becoming the narrow stream they’d been following. On one side of the rock, it wasn’t there. On the other, it was.
Rex thought about it for a moment and concluded that the water here would not be polluted since the mine tailings were downstream. He told his companion so.
The young man knelt and scooped up a palmful. He trickled it over his head before repeating the action and taking a drink. Lastly, he scooped some up and dribbled it on the ground a few inches from the main stream. It appeared to be a minor ceremony. Rex likened it to the practice of dipping one’s finger into a basin of holy water before making the sign of the cross in the Roman Catholic tradition.
He waited a few minutes and then respectfully asked if he might drink from the pool and, at the young man’s nod, he took a knee to slake his thirst.
Out of respect, he led Digger back along the stream for a few feet before allowing him to do the same.
“I have seen enough,” he announced. With no more discussion, they started back the way they came.
It wouldn’t be confirmed until the dirt in his pocket could be analyzed, but the circumstantial evidence convinced him their theory was correct. Somehow, the water that the villagers were collecting downstream from the tailings dump was being polluted with a source of radon, most likely infused with it as it passed through the tailings.
All they’d need to do for now is avoid the water downstream and take their sacred water from above the tailings. Eventually, the mine owners should be encouraged to clean the polluted area, which would involve removing the tailings and some amount of dirt under them. Someone else would have to ramrod that. Rex felt he’d done his part by investigating it and finding the cause of the children’s radiation poisoning.
***
WHEN THEY GOT back to the village, Rex thanked the young man for guiding him and searched his pockets for something to give him. As soon as the young man realized what he was doing, he said no thanks were necessary and hurried away. Almost as if he didn’t want to be seen with the gringo now that he’d violated the prohibition to show him the spring.
Rex called out another thanks, and then went to visit the doctor. She came outside the hut to talk with him, as the children were napping.
“Will they recover?” he asked after
explaining what he found.
“They’ll stop getting worse, at least for a time. With no further exposure, they’re likely to survive. I can’t say that they won’t have health problems related to the exposure, sooner or later.”
“What kind of problems?”
“They may develop thyroid problems, up to and including cancer. Bone density issues, maybe. Their immune systems will be compromised.”
It saddened Rex and gave him renewed anger at Alexandro for his part in it. Rationally, he knew Alexandro probably hadn’t meant his advice maliciously. It was more than likely ignorance. Emotionally, he couldn’t separate it. He would have to process the circumstances before he’d be settled about Alexandro. Right now, he’d be grateful for a chance to at least punch him in the face.
Dr. Martinez was waiting patiently for Rex’s response, he could see. She was staring at his face and ignoring Digger’s attempts to engage her with a goofy grin.
“Did I miss something?” he asked. “Oh! Yeah. I have some samples of the tailings. The spring, or rather the stream that comes from it, runs right through the tailings dump before it runs down to where the villagers usually take the sacred water.”
“Where are they?”
“What?”
“The samples, Mr. Davis. Whatever has gotten into you?”
Rex wondered the same thing himself. His mind seemed scattered to the four winds.
“In my pocket,” he said apologetically. “I didn’t take sample bags or anything to carry it in.”
She pressed her lips together. Clearly, she didn’t approve of his unscientific methods. “I’ll get a couple of vials,” she said. She stepped back and disappeared inside her hut. She didn’t invite him to accompany her. She was back in seconds, carrying two tubes that looked like blood collection vials.
“This is all I have,” she said.
He took each tube from her and dipped them into his pocket, scooping as much of the dirt into them as he could, then handing them back to her to cap.
“I’ll send them to a lab tomorrow.”
“It is getting late, isn’t it?”
She looked over his shoulder and said, “You’re late to your own party.”
He turned and looked around. Sure enough, the square was filling with people. He didn’t see Luciana, and for a moment he had an idea he was going to regret leaving her alone all day while he pursued his investigations. But then he shrugged. They were soon going to have to part anyway. He’d rather she break it off with him than have to do so himself.
Confrontations with bad guys were one thing. Breaking up with a girl, he’d only done once in his life, and the scar on his heart was still tender, years later, though he didn’t dwell on it anymore. He’d spent years not being able to dwell on it as a very real matter of survival.
Chapter Twenty-Five
REX DIDN’T RUSH to the guest accommodations. He was trying to decide if there was anything to keep him here after tonight. Now that he’d helped solve the mystery of the children’s exposure to radiation to his satisfaction, he no longer had the nagging feeling that something was left undone.
Junior’s fate would be decided by the villagers. They’d either carry out an execution or give him into Luciana’s capable hands to be taken to Santa Teresa. Rex would prefer to accompany them if that were the case, but it should be decided before morning, one way or the other.
The Markses would be leaving soon, too, he assumed. It seemed like days since he’d talked to them, though in fact it was only a few hours since he’d seen them that morning. They had a bit more business to discuss – whether to ask Dr. Martinez if she could stay, or seek someone who’d be a permanent doctor for the village. Other than that, his work here was done.
Alexandro, of course, was a loose end. But Rex didn’t have the resources to track him down. It was enough that he was long gone from here. If he came back, the villagers would no doubt deal with him. Rex didn’t need to worry about it.
“What do you say, Digger? Have we been here long enough? Shall we head out tomorrow?”
Digger tilted his head at Rex’s questioning tone. Because Rex was relaxed, the dog smiled at him and trotted happily beside him. There was something to be said about having just a dumb animal for a companion. Non-vocal, he corrected himself. Digger wasn’t dumb by a long shot. He also wasn’t demanding of anything but food and an occasional treat, didn’t nag him if he didn’t act as expected, and didn’t talk his ear off.
He got amused at his internal argument, but he was at the door to Luciana’s quarters. He hailed her from outside, unsure what their relationship was now. She’d separated their sleeping bags last night and rolled up in her own, with her back to him, though she hadn’t suggested he go back to the Markses’ quarters. When he got up this morning, she was gone. He assumed she was having her say in the discussions about what to do with Junior. He’d gone outside looking for her and run into Barry, who invited him for breakfast. He hadn’t been back since.
Receiving no answer at Luciana’s door, he went next door to see if the Markses were home. Flo greeted him warmly.
“Are you ready for tonight’s feast?” She seemed as excited as if they hadn’t attended two feasts in the village already.
“Ready as I’ll ever be. No more of that chica de jora, though. That stuff’s lethal.”
The Markses both laughed at his rueful expression. Flo dropped a morsel of leftover meat into Digger’s eager mouth and rubbed his ears.
“I’m going to miss, you, pooch.”
Rex looked curiously at her. “Did I miss something?”
“Barry and I are leaving in the morning. Luciana wants us to stop in Lima before we head back home and report everything that happened up here.”
“Oh?” His questioning tone invited Flo to share more.
“She didn’t tell you?”
“I haven’t seen her since last night. No, she hasn’t told me anything. What should I know?”
“Oh! Well, under questioning, Junior admitted that he knew about the Shining Path attack. In fact, it was Alexandro who told them to do it. When you drove the guerillas off, Junior had no choice but to bring the money to keep us in the deal. Otherwise, they’d have moved in, wiped out all of us and the villagers, and taken over the site on their own.”
“Shit! I never would have suggested that scheme if I’d known it would put the villagers and us in such danger.”
Flo put her hand on his arm. “I know you wouldn’t, son. But you saved them. We can’t always see the consequences of our actions. We just have to live and learn.”
Rex felt sick to his stomach. He seldom had to second-guess his operations. He always did what he thought was right, and most often it was. The worst regret he’d had previously was leading his friends into an ambush that killed everyone but him and Digger. But that wasn’t so much his mistake as someone else’s betrayal.
Now, however, he couldn’t help but dwell on what would have happened if his defenses hadn’t held when Shining Path attacked. Even so, two village elders had lost their lives. He’d probably regret ever suggesting the reverse scam. Truthfully, he’d known it was his scheme that drew them in the first place, but the fact that Alexandro was involved somehow made it worse. And he still didn’t know what it meant that Junior had confessed it.
“So, what does that mean for Luciana, or me, or whatever you meant. Alexandro’s involvement, I mean.”
“Well, dear, it’s not for us to say.”
Rex noticed Barry rolling his eyes.
“But I think she wants you to help her catch him.”
That news threw Rex into a minor panic before he controlled himself. It was already happening. She wanted to hunt down bad guys together. Should he do it? Was he ready to let her go if he didn’t do it? Was he crazy for even thinking about staying with her any longer, when it could mean the end of his freedom?
Digger leaned against his leg, apparently sensing his distress. Absently, he reached down and patted his be
st friend.
“Well, buddy, I guess we’d better go and face the music.”
To Flo, who appeared confused when he looked back at her, and Barry, who was studiously keeping his expression neutral, Rex said, “Ready? Let’s go have ourselves a feast.”
He didn’t realize he’d spoken aloud to Digger.
Chapter Twenty-Six
DUSK HAD COME on so gradually that Rex hardly noticed until they reached the square and the central fire lit it up brightly in contrast. The feast was in full swing, and in the center of the square, a sorry-looking Junior was tied to a post. Rex couldn’t see any firewood stacked at his feet, but otherwise the situation put him in mind of an old Western movie, with Indians – the Native American kind – dancing around a hapless white man about to be burned at the stake. Digger went over and stood right in front of him, staring up at him with menace in his stance.
“Ray!”
Rex heard Luciana’s voice calling, but he couldn’t see her through the crowd at first. Then he did, and she was smiling. The way his spirits lifted when he saw her was a shock. When had he fallen for her? It confused him more than ever. When he noticed Flo’s knowing look, he knew it showed on his face, too.
He consciously smoothed his features into a pleasant but otherwise neutral smile.
“I guess I’d better go see what she wants, if you’ll excuse me,” he said to the Markses.
“Of course, dear. I hope you work it out,” Flo answered.
The happy noise of the crowd, the flickering firelight, and the sight of Luciana’s exquisite face and figure combined to make Rex’s progress toward her almost dreamlike. Then she floated into his arms and they shared a kiss that could have lit the fire in the wood stacked around Junior, if there’d been any.
When she pulled away, Rex was reluctant to let her go, but he did.
“I hear you have plans for me,” he said, forgetting Flo had intimated she shouldn’t tell him.
Luciana gave him a puzzled frown. “I do?”
