Jungle Crossing (13 page)

***

"But I don't want to swim." Barb wouldn't budge from her seat when the bus stopped at the swimming cenote. "Let's skip it so you can finish the story."

Nando brushed back his dark hair. "I'm not like your American television telling you stories all day long."

"Nando's right. It's hot, and we should all go swimming," I said. This place looked a lot nicer than the swampy, but supposedly sacred, cenote. I rolled my swimsuit into my towel, glancing at Nando. He ignored me.

All the guys followed Monique off the bus. Max nudged Josh. Guess I wasn't the only one who'd seen Monique swimming back at the hotel.

"Just give me a hint," Barb begged. "One teeny tiny hint about Muluc."

"Leave him alone." I sighed and shook my head like Mom. Kind of satisfying, I must admit.

But just to spite me, Nando said in a low and menacing voice, "Cenote. Sacrifice."

"Oooh. I can't wait. I can't!"

"Come on." I whacked her with my towel. Very satisfying.

This cenote was like a cave, but with stairs built down to the water. Fifty feet above us, sun glinted through the natural opening. Everyone climbed up to a ledge to jump into the water, except Barb, who swam off to hunt for lost treasure (Talia had left her precious Barbie to stalk Josh).

"Thousands of tourists have been here," I called after Barb. "Today!"

"So?" She treaded water. "I'm going to dive down deep. Over there, where the water is glittering like gold."

"That's sunlight."

Barb paddled into the middle of the cenote, where the sun shone and long vines reached into the water. I stood looking at the dark water, watching Barb dunk and dunk again. Why hadn't they installed lights? Were there rotting bones down there? Just standing in the cave felt nice and cool. Maybe I'd skip the whole swimming thing. Plus, who knew what kinds of creatures cruised around down there: strange, undiscovered prehistoric things with giant teeth. Plus, there might be an ancient Mayan curse that doomed anyone who swam in a sacred cenote. Reason number—number teen something: ancient Mayan curses.

Josh pulled himself out of the water next to me. "Come on, Mountain Goat. It's your turn!" He grabbed my hand and led me up the stairs to the ledge. No boy had ever held my hand before, not on purpose anyway. His hand felt wet but strong, not slippery, and totally electric. He looked down at me as we reached the highest jumping ledge. And C.C. looked at me with—envy! Talia and Nando both sent menacing looks my way.

Josh didn't seem to notice. "You're a daredevil, right? This is nothing."

I kind of nodded, completely unable to think of anything to say. When it was wet, Josh's hair looked even spikier than Zach B.'s. Josh had super-athletic legs. And he was actually flirting—with me!

"Let's go together, cutie." Josh bumped his hip against mine. "Ready: one, two, three!"

My face burned with such a deep, embarrassing blush that I had to jump before anyone saw; still holding hands, I pulled Josh after me, cannonballing into the water with a huge splash. Cold! How could the water be so cold when it was ninety degrees outside?

"That's a ten for splashibility," Max yelled.

"Nice jump," Luc said.

"Fun, huh?" Josh grinned at me, whipping his wet hair back from his face. I nodded like one of the bobblehead turtles Mom had bought Barb in the hotel gift shop.

"Give me a break." Talia wrung out her hair. "They jumped. What's the big deal?"

Nando watched me with wide eyes, kind of crinkling his forehead, but then Josh splashed me, and everyone else swam over for a huge water fight. I totally drenched Talia! At the end, all of the girls—except me—ganged up on Nando. Gemma got him good!

I paddled away, looking around for Barb, but I couldn't find her. Did some toothy beast snatch her, or did she drown chasing after an old soda can or something? While the others jumped off the ledge again, I swam over to the middle, keeping my legs close to the surface, although only the bravest creatures would stick around after all our splashing.

Monique (top on) and Dante treaded water while kissing near the vines. Barb bobbed up right next to me, so I shrieked. Dante and Monique laughed, so I splashed them.

"I found a gum wrapper and this!" Barb held up a small coin. "Ancient Mayan money."

"That's a peso."

"I know, but I can pretend." She swam away from me. "I'm going back under. Once your eyes adjust, the water's really clear."

I swam a few feet away so I wouldn't look like a perv, staring at Monique and Dante as they resumed kissing. From the highest ledge, Nando jumped into the water holding hands with Jessie and C.C. I felt a twinge of that old Zach B.-teasing-Fiona (in a flirty way) kind of jealousy, so I swam farther away, ignoring their echoing laughter. Why was he only mad at me? All of us made fun of his sacred swamp of a cenote. Not just me. And yeah, I climbed the pyramid, but it's not like millions of people hadn't done it before. I didn't hurt anything. And I kind of helped myself, I think.

I floated on my back and looked up at the opening at the top of the cavern, a stream of sunlight warming my face. Closing my eyes, I thought about the people sacrificed in the cenotes. How could the Mayans stand around and watch other people die? Why didn't someone try to stop them? Were their beliefs that strong? Or was it peer pressure? Sometimes the ancient Mayans seemed so cruel. Then again, people kill each other every day all over the world for no good reason. But we don't
sacrifice
each other. Or do we?

Grace Williams's face popped into my mind: puffy eyes, tears running down her cheeks.

"Please just tell me what 'pickle wart' means. Please?" she had begged.

I wanted to tell her. It was so stupid anyway—a dumb joke about a bumpy pickle and some guy Fiona had a crush on (and his you-know-what). Like Fiona even knew. Just as I was about to say something to Grace, Fiona glared at me, so I didn't say anything.

"Maybe you shouldn't have missed mini-camp," Fiona said.

"I had to visit my grandparents." Grace started sobbing.

While she cried, I stood there and watched the group sacrifice her. Would it be my turn this year? Did I care?

Yes.

When we got back on the bus, Nando seemed to be in a better mood; he almost sat in the back with C.C., but Barb begged for "just a little more of the story."

I headed back to sit with Josh, but Barb pulled me into her seat. "Kat needs to listen too."

Nando scoffed. "She doesn't care. To her, Mexico is all about swimming. Getting a tan."

I rolled my eyes. This guy really etched his grudges into stone.

"But Kat
loves
your story." Barb pulled
my
travel journal out of
my
backpack. "She's always drawing pictures about it and everything." Before I could snatch
my
journal back, the pages flipped open to a drawing of how I imagined Snake. Nando tilted his head to see it, but I snapped the book closed, whacking it against Barb's arm—hard—before shoving it deep into my backpack.

"Little brat of a traitor!" I growled.

Barb squirmed away from me and slipped into Nando's seat. But Nando didn't acknowledge her, still staring at me, his forehead furrowed. "Okay, I'll tell you about the rain ceremony," he said, looking at me the way I'd stared at those complicated Mayan carvings, trying to figure out what was there.

***

T
HE
D
AY
4 B
EN

Protector of Growing Corn

Muluc felt as if she were swimming through the bodies flooding the Great Plaza on the day of the Lords' rain ceremony. Thousands of men, women, and children crowded between the temples, each vying for the best view. Balam weaved through the crowd, as agile as a jungle cat racing through thick underbrush. Macaw and Mol went to stake out a place near the Temple of the Warriors to see the end of the ceremony, but Balam wanted Muluc to see everything. Holding hands, they twisted through the crowd toward the Temple of the Jaguars to see the ball-game procession.

The hot sun and crush of bodies made Muluc dizzy as they stood waiting all afternoon; the smell of sweat mixed with the sweet clouds of pom incense nauseated her. She'd eaten so much during their feast last night that she worried she might get sick. Leaning against Balam's shoulder, she sipped water from a small gourd he had brought. Muluc had never attended a ceremony as a commoner—she had always sat, wearing newly embroidered clothing, with the elites. Smoothing her plain white cotton dress made her long for her old status in Cobá. She licked her finger and rubbed a bit of spit on her lip plug to make the stone shine.

Priests, wearing cloth woven with red for blood and blue for sacrifice, climbed the steps to the high chamber in the Temple of the Jaguars that overlooked the ball court. Balam told Muluc that they sat at a table held up by small statues of a dozen men representing all the different priest classes at Chichén. Dishes piled high with exotic foods for the gods covered the table.

Muluc stood on her tippy-toes, craning her neck. "I wish I could see it!"

"Just wait until you see the ballplayers," Balam said.

Musicians standing along the top of the high stone walls played long wooden trumpets, rattles, flutes, and conch shells and beat turtle drums with deer antlers. Like trees blowing in the wind, the entire crowd moved to the rhythm of the music. Muluc closed her eyes, absorbing the drumbeat as Balam put his hands on her hips. The music grew louder, and royal guards parted the crowd.

A Lord dressed in a cape of thousands of shimmering green quetzal feathers walked to the temple. The crowd hushed as he climbed the narrow stairway, but the musicians rapidly beat their drums. With his feathered cape glittering in the afternoon sun, the Lord sat on the red jaguar throne between two columns, each one carved with creation gods standing on Snake Mountain.

Muluc peeked over people's heads and looked at the mural on the wall of the temple, trembling at the sight of the losing ballplayer falling back against a ball, a stream of blood shaped like a snake shooting out from his neck while the victorious ballplayer hovered over him. Lower down on the mural, warriors cared for another dead body.

"The Lord makes my skin prickle too, sometimes." Balam rubbed Muluc's arms. "Wait until you see the warriors."

Saying nothing, Muluc sipped some warm water, trying to swallow her fear as well. Why hadn't she stayed back in the jungle, safe in Macaw's hut?

Balam pulled Muluc closer to the procession, where men blowing conch shells led the parade. An old priest carrying a small offering bowl followed behind. Shouts rose as the ballplayers strode past wearing headdresses with layers of colorful feathers. On their chests they wore wooden yokes, carved with images of the gods, over thick padding to protect their bodies from the heavy rubber ball. Thick leather skirts covered their groins. Padding also wound around their forearms. Some carried small carved handstones for hitting the ball. The warriors' backs glittered with tiny mirrors as they entered the ball court.

A large man, damp with sweat and smelling of fermented corn, crushed Muluc's foot as he tried to get a closer look. She cried out, but no one heard her. Even Balam cheered so loud that Muluc covered her ears, as a warrior, wearing an elaborate headdress of quetzal feathers, ended the procession of ballplayers. The warrior's skirt flamed with a huge red-feathered snake emerging from a tortoise's shell, and he wore a glittering yoke studded with gems and carved with symbols of Kulkucan, the Great Vision Serpent. Muluc's whole body went cold. She edged backwards, but Balam held her.

"He's the greatest warrior in all of Chichén!" Balam shouted. "The great Kan!"

"Snake," Muluc whispered.

Snake gazed into a gold mirror in his hand, as if he were a sorcerer peering into the Otherworld.

"He has great powers—l ike a priest," Balam said, not taking his eyes off Snake.

Muluc tried to hide her face in Balam's neck, but he shrugged her off.

"Watch," he said.

Muluc looked up just as Snake stood next to them. In spite of the heat, she shivered. Snake glanced over; his eyes met hers and widened; his mouth curved upward into a leering grin. He raised his mirror, and the crowd cheered. Muluc leaned against Balam.

"I feel dizzy," she said.

"Kan has that effect on girls," Balam teased, handing her the water gourd. "Let's head over to the show." Balam pulled her through the waves of people. "Why are your hands so cold?"

Looking back, Muluc saw Parrot Nose's—no, Quetzal's—brother, dressed as a ballplayer. Did he have a chance against Snake? Her breath caught as she also saw the bloody image on the mural—painted with so much red.

Balam bumped through the mass of bodies, making his way to the small platform near the temple of Kulkucan. "Hurry," he said. "They've already started."

Muluc held Balam's hand, allowing him to lead her like a child, no longer wanting to even glimpse bits of the ball game. Would Quetzal ever know his brother's fate? Who would tell him?

Cheers from the royal crowd watching the ball game erupted over the noises of the commoners in the plaza. The elites chanted, "Kan! Kan! Kan!" Snake. Muluc felt the lightning in her blood that quickened her step, even though her foot still throbbed. If only she could run from the plaza and find a quiet place in the jungle. No longer like one kernel of corn in a whole field, she'd been recognized. But she couldn't bring herself to tear her hand from Balam's.

They stopped near the front of a small stage where performers dressed in warrior costumes tossed corn into the crowd.

"Do you know the Hero Twins story?" Balam asked.

Muluc nodded.

"I love this part," Balam said. "Where the Lords of Death challenge the Hero Twins to a ball game in Xibalba."

"Hurrah!" people in the crowd yelled as the actors drank pulque and then spit it out into the crowd. A few drops of the sweet-smelling liquid landed on Muluc's hand. Rather than wipe it off on her clean dress, Muluc stuck her fingers into her mouth. The smoky, peppery pulque prickled her tongue. Balam laughed at the expression on her face, then drew her close, folding her into the curve of his body, making her forget Snake. Losing herself in Balam's affection, Muluc only half watched the familiar story unfolding onstage. Again and again the Hero Twins tricked the Lords of Death, escaping the Razor House, the Cold House, the Jaguar House. Could Muluc ever be so clever? She hadn't even
tried
to escape her enslavement in Chichén. And now Snake had seen her!