[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
Caroline sipped from her indigenous wooden chalice. "I always thought a real
jungle would be very romantic." Her left hand brushed continuously back and
forth in front of her face. "It's not. It's hot, sweaty, buggy, and
dangerous."
"They usually are," Jed observed. "Aulaua Five is entirely covered in jungle
and the 'bugs' there are so big and vicious that "
She cut him off. "Never mind. What I'd really like to find is a shower."
"Wouldn't matter if we did," Ross Ed pointed out. "We don't have any money."
"Says you." From her omnipresent fanny pack she removed the credit card she'd
alluded to back inLos Angeles , when they'd first discussed fleeing Tealeaf's
hospitality forSan Diego .
Her companion eyed it speculatively. "That's swell, provided anyone around
here takes plastic."
"Where've you been, Ross Ed?Everybody takes plastic these days."
"In the jungle? I wouldn't count on it."
"Visa, MasterCard, Diner's Card, American Express, Sumitomo, Barclay's, and
Banco Vera Cruz, senior. Any of those are acceptable. I was offered a Harrod's
card once but could not figure out how to process it."
They'd met a couple of kids fishing from a point of rocks. The boys had shown
them a trail which led through the rain forest, past newly cleared cornfields,
to a dirt road, and thence to dievillage ofSanta Luisadel Mar. There they had
found the cantina, with its outdoor tables, Dos Equis umbrellas, and freshly
Page 185
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
painted stucco.
Santa Luisa was a boomtown, barely a few years old, which explained why its
inhabitants had not yet found the temple complex hidden in the jungle to the
north. Or perhaps they had, Ross Ed reflected, and were keeping its location a
secret while they pillaged its passageways and tombs. In their covert search
for gold and jade artifacts, acquisitive locals wouldn't pay much attention to
a tree stump.
After inhaling a couple of cold Coronas apiece, the weary travelers consented
to order food. High up on a wall a radio was blasting out a melange of
Argentinian rock, Mexican pop, and American country-western. Ross Ed put his
feet up on an empty chair and felt almost at home. With die backpack scooted
beneath the heavy table, Jed remained comfortably out of sight.
The proprietor wore a bright, flowery shirt, jeans, and a white apron. His
wide forehead, bulging cheeks, and enormous mus-tache framed a pleasant
disposition.
"I'll bet you don't get many tourists here." Caroline swigged herCorona
directly from the bottle.
"That is changing rapidly, sefiora. Ever since me start of something called
eco-tourism, crazy people from all over (he world are coming to theYucatan .
They bash their way mrough the jungle, frightening away the animals and birds,
getting bitten by bugs and stung by scorpions and wasps, and men leave saying
what a fine time it was they had. Some even bring their own drinks, which they
sip all day long." His brown forehead creased. "What are lomotil and imodium,
anyway? Some kind of milk drink?"
"But you still do business." Ross Ed saluted with his bottle.
The man smiled. "Enough, and it is getting better every month. They drink my
beer and eat my food and some days my wife and daughters cannot make tortillas
fast enough. Life is good, eh, serlor?"
Ross glanced under the table. "It's interesting, anyway."
"Besides touristas we get archaeologists, oilmen, scientists, and surfers.
You would be surprised, my friends, at the number of people who come this
way."
"Your beer's very good," Ross Ed told him. "I hope your tamales, burritos,
and frijoles are its equal."
The proprietor wagged a finger at him. "I know your accent, senor. You are
fromTexas , yes?" Ross nodded and the man smiled. "Then you are almost a
Mexican."
"And you're almost a Texan."
"I will make sure the food is hot enough for you."
"I'd appreciate that. I like it hot& so long as there's enough cold beer."
While they waited for their food he and Caroline watched children brown as
nuts roll hoops up and down the dusty street. Occasionally a donkey cart would
trundle past, and less often, an old car or truck held together with bailing
wire and prayers. The village was still sleepy, but like so much of
southernMexico , in the process of waking up.
Page 186
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
There would be a telephone, he surmised. They'd make it safely back toTexas
yet.
"Hey, haven't you kids got anything else to do?Vamos !" He sat up in his
chair and waved at a couple of teenagers who were leaning on the railing and
staring. When he started to rise, they fled. Had they noticed Jed? He couldn't
be sure.
They were nearly through with their excellent meal when two of the three
teens Ross had chased off returned. Three men accompanied them; lean, intense,
no-nonsense-looking fellows. Two of them had weapons slung over their
shoulders. M-16s, Ross noted even as he doubted they were used for hunting
monkeys.
"Maybe they're just coming in for a drink."
"I don't like guns," Caroline announced.
"Then you wouldn't feel at home inTexas . Let's just ignore them."
This proved difficult to do when the new arrivals entered the patio via the
swinging gate, turned sharply to their left, and marched straight up to the
Americans' table. One of the teens immediately started jabbering away in a
mixture of Spanish and a language Ross didn't recognize. As he rambled he
pointed not at the Texan or his companion, but under their table.
"I don't like it," Ross whispered. "What do they want?"
"I'll get the owner." She started to rise.
Her effort was premature. Having taking note of the confron-tation, the
proprietor was already on is way over. Slinging the towel he'd been carrying
over his shoulder, he engaged the newcomers in conversation. As they talked
looks and fingers occasionally flew in the travelers' direction.
"Whatever happens, at least we got to eat." The big man drained the last of
his icedCorona .
"They keep looking under the table." Caroline did her best to ignore the
debate taking place behind her. "Maybe they want Jed for some reason."
"Well, the army couldn't have him,Hollywood couldn't have him, not even the
Culakhan could have him." He sat up straighter in his chair, emphasizing his
size. "And if I have anything to say about it, no bunch of farmers is gonna
get him, either."
"Is there some trouble, Senor Santos?" Caroline asked the owner. She was
relieved to see that the men showed no inclination to remove their rifles from
their shoulders.
The proprietor looked apologetic. "It is the little creature you carry with
you."
"What, Jed?" Ross tried to make himself look surprised and intimidating all
at once.
"So that is its name."Santos nodded at the man. "They believe it is a
reincarnation of the god Azalotl. They are Mayan, you see. Many of them here
still believe in the old ways."
Page 187
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
"Aza who?" Caroline made a face.
"One of the more powerful major deities responsible for prosperity," the
cantina owner explained. "These men belong to a group that is in rebellion
against the government. Myself, I happen to believe they have many legitimate
complaints, but I do not support armed revolt." He lowered his voice.
"Revolution is bad for the tourist business. However, we all have respect for
one another. In a village in the middle of the jungle, that is necessary."
[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]