Wednesday's Words: Andean Andventure, Chapter Five

 Did you miss Chapter One? Get caught up now.

How about Chapter Two? Read it here

And you wouldn't want to miss Chapter Three: This is where it explodes

If you've been following along, you'll need to reread Chapter Four because I added to it. If you don't, you'll be lost...a lot like DeeDee and Liam. Although I doubt you'll be meeting up with any capybaras, so, unlike my characters, you're probably safe.

CHAPTER FIVE

The jeep rested on a log. Liam ran a concerned glance over Delia. She looked startled, but okay. He tried to think of how the old Delia would have responded. She’d have been chortling and hooting. This Dee had stared wide-eyed—her mouth forming an O.

“Your friend’s car,” she wailed.

Her response shocked him. She seemed genuinely more concerned for Mathias’s vehicle than she was about their own predicament. “We’ll get him a new one.”

“How? I don’t have any money, do you?”

He shook his head, baffled. The Delia he knew was rolling in money. Her books brought in a steady income stream that made the Mississippi look like a creek. “Are you sure you’re not hurt?”

She rocked her head back and forth and rolled her shoulders. “I seem to be okay. How about you?”

“I’m fine.” Liam tried to get out to inspect the damage, but had to kick the door open. The Jeep, high-centered on a moss-covered log, teetered when he climbed out. In the trees above him, macaws cawed and monkeys scolded. He slid to the forest floor and considered the car. “We must’ve been a popped tire.”

DeeDee remained in the Jeep with her hand held to the base of her throat as if to protect it from an unseen assailant. She stared at the giant rodents roaming across the road. “What are those creatures?”

Did she really not know? “Capybara.”

DeeDee inched up to crane over her shoulder. Her eyes were filled with wonder. Had she taken acting lessons? He studied Delia. She seemed like a different person. And yet, aside for the missing breasts, she was identical. And yet not. Who was this person? “You seriously mean to tell me you don’t remember Gawain?”

“Gawain?” she echoed. “Like Sir Gawain and the Green Knight?”

They didn’t have time right now discuss literature. They had bigger problems. “Capybaras. The world’s largest rodents.” He studied her, waiting for her memory to kick in. “They travel in herds. Sociable. Some people even keep them as pets.”

She blinked in surprise and seemed to be reading his mind. “Did I have a pet capybara?” Her hand fluttered in front of her chest.

“Yep. You sure did—er--do. You really don’t remember Gawain?”

She chuckled. “I really don’t.”

“Well, that makes me feel better.”

“How so?”

“You loved that creature. What happened to him?”

“How would I know? Tell me more about them.” She seemed hesitant to leave the precariously perched Jeep. “About Gawain. Does he live in my house?”

“And swims in your pool. He has a best friend named Gertie who comes to stay during the day.”

“My capybara has play dates?”

“They’re very social. You pay a local woman to bring Gertie over. She’s also your housekeeper.”

She laughed and her mood visibly lightened. She crawled out of the Jeep and slid down the log to place her feet on solid ground. “I said I don’t have any money. That’s not really true, is it?”

 “No. The royalties alone from your books have made you very rich. Plus, you have alimony from Richard Chambers.” She looked like she had more questions, but he didn’t want to talk about her pets or exes.

“Who’s Richard Chambers? I thought my—I—didn’t ever marry.”

“Don’t tell that to Richard.” He pushed through the ferns and bushes snatching at his pants and clambered over the mossy log. He held out a hand. “Let’s get out of here.”

“I feel badly just abandoning the Jeep.”

He kept hold of her hand. He’d forgotten how small and fragile she was. “It isn’t worth much.”

“It probably is to Matias.”

He felt her disapproval, and it stung. The old Delia wouldn’t have been concerned about Matias’s Jeep. Maybe cancer had changed her. Maybe she felt like she had to clean up her act if she wanted to go to heaven. Did she even believe in heaven? What was that saying? There are no atheists in foxholes? Probably the same would be true for the terminally ill. Liam took a couple of faltering steps in the direction he hoped was the road, but then his gaze fell on something he’d heard about in legends, but had given up ever hoping to find.

Alquitrán negro del diablo.

 

#

 

Liam dropped DeeDee’s hand as soon as they reached the road. “Let me see the map.”

DeeDee clutched the bag to her flat chest. “No way. Not happening.”

“No way? What an unusual turn of phrase—and yet, I know exactly what you mean.” He shook his hand between them. “I’m not going to steal it. I just want to see something. You should know you can trust me.”

 “That’s the thing that you’re not grasping.” She edged away from him. “I don’t know you. And for all I know, you could’ve intentionally driven off the road for the purpose of stealing the map and leaving me stranded.” She hugged the bag the way a child clings to a teddy bear.

Frustration rippled over his expression. “Do you really believe I’m capable of herding a hundred capybaras and planting them in our way?”

She cast the creatures a scowl. “No…but maybe you knew they congregate here.”

He breathed out a disgusted huff and pointed at the ground where something black and ugly gurgled between the fallen palm fronds. “Do you see that?”

DeeDee stepped closer for a better look.

He grabbed her arm and jerked her to his side. “Careful,” he warned.

“What is it? Oil?”

Maybe Liam wasn’t looking for the lost city of whatever, at all. Maybe he was searching for oil. That had to be as valuable in the 1940s as it was in the 2020s.

She gasped when she saw that one of the baby capybaras had gotten stuck in the muck. The creature squealed like a guinea pig and thrashed his legs.

“Oh no,” Liam whispered and clutched her hand.

She followed his gaze and spotted a jaguar poised in pouncing position in the branches of a banyan tree high above the struggling baby capybara. Her breath hitched and fought rising bile in her throat.

Liam tugged her to the ground. They hid in the foliage. Fern tickled the back of DeeDee’s neck. “We have to help,” DeeDee whispered.

“Really?” He stared at her, wide-eyed with disbelief. “You’d stand between a jaguar and his lunch?”

The jaguar jumped from the tree. His powerful muscles rippled as he moved. A ray of sunshine piercing the tree’s thick canopy illuminated his black, glistening fur. He was both beautiful and terrifying.

“We can’t just…” her argument died on her lips when she saw the capybaras herd swivel as if listening to a battle cry to rescue their fallen friend. They stampeded toward the tar pits, kicking up dust with their stout legs.

“Oh no, they’ll get stuck, too,” DeeDee whimpered.

The jaguar, seeing he was out numbered, slunk in the other direction. Liam stood and extended his hand.

This time, she took it.

“I don’t feel safe,” she confided. “even if he’s gone.”

“He’s here, even if we can no longer see him.”

“That doesn’t help, at all. Not even a tiny bit.” DeeDee rustled through her bag.

“What are you looking for?”

“Bear spray.” She withdrew a small hand size canister. Noting his expression, she wondered about aerosol cans and when they’d been invented.

“We won’t see any bears here.”

“This will stop just about anyone or anything with eyes or a nose.”

“Good to know. What does it do?”

“It irritates—although that might be too kind of a word—the eyes and nose. If sprayed, you might not see or even sometimes, breath. It’s powerful stuff.”

“All of that in that little cylinder.” He didn’t believe her. Of course, she wouldn’t demonstrate on him to prove it.

“Yep.” She thought about the alarm on her phone, but she didn’t want to terrify Liam or make him suspicious. “Should we try to revive the Jeep?”

Liam shook his head. “We’ll have to buy Mathias a new one.”

“By ‘we’, do you mean me?” She kept hold of his hand and matched her pace to his.

He bumped his hip against her. “Once we find the Lost City of the Caesars, money won’t be an issue for either of us.”

She stumbled along beside him, but he held her tight. “You said yourself this place might be a myth. What makes you so sure you’re going to find it now?”

“Because we just found the first clue.”

DeeDee looked around. “We did?”

“If you would look at your map…”

DeeDee spotted a boulder lying on the side of the road, sat, and opened her bag to pull out an envelope. Liam’s eyes narrowed with suspicion, but she stowed the envelope back in her bag before he could study the postscript.

She slid him a glance. He really was a handsome man. Much too young for her, of course. He was at least 10 years her junior. Did that mean that he was 10 years younger than her grandmother? Or did that mean that he was 110 years older than her? She put her hand on her head, feeling dizzy.

Time travel, she thought with disgust. She never like science fiction books. She didn’t like fantasy. She preferred things to be grounded in the here and now. But even she had to admit the here and now had become fuzzy. Was the here and now in the twenty-first century? Or was it 1947, as Liam claimed? She didn’t even know what was fantasy and what was real anymore.

But maybe she could help Liam find the Lost City of the Caesars. DeeDee smoothed out the map on her lap. Of course, everything was written in Spanish—or was it Portuguese? It might as well be ancient Greek. Without Google Translate, she was just as lost on a map as she was in a jungle. But then she spotted something. A black splotch. And she recognized the word Diablo. “Are we here?”

Liam squatted beside her and inspected the map. “I believe so.”

DeeDee traced her finger along the dotted lines leading to what looked like a chicken. “What do you think that is?” She recognized the word huevos. “Do you think there’s a chicken farm or something?”

He took the map from her and spun it in his hands. He read out loud, “Asado pero sin pimiento. Plumas pero no almohada. Aves en el aire.”

She wrinkled her forehead. “What?”

He pointed to text on the map and this time spoke in English. “Roasted but not a pepper. Feathers but not a pillow.”

“That tells us nothing.” She tried to reclaim the map.

Liam chuckled as she battled her strength against his. “Don’t worry. I’m not trying to steal it. I’m just trying to see what direction we should be headed.”

He squinted at the sun. “I think north is that way.” He nodded to the left, then popped his finger in his mouth, withdrew it, and held it up in the air.

She watched him. “What are you doing?”

“In this area, the wind typically blows off the coast. That means we’ll find the chicken farm in that direction.” He pointed to a hill to her right.

“I really can’t see there being a chicken farm over there.”

“Neither can I, to tell you the truth.” But he took off in that direction anyway.

Was he telling her the truth about anything? Was every word out of his mouth a lie? She decided to trust him. Up to a point. After tucking the map into her bag, she stood and strode beside Liam, scanning the road for the lurking jaguar.

“We have a decision to make.” Liam’s tone told her he was serious. “We need to decide on whether we continue to São Paulo, or if we follow the map.” He lifted an eyebrow. “What do you say?”

“I think we’re close.”

“I do, too.”

“And,” she made a show of glancing around, “I don’t see any bad guys skulking about. Let’s go the next town and ask about chicken farms.”

His eyebrows lowered. “I like your thinking.” Liam paused, glanced over his shoulder, and frowned at the Jeep. “But maybe you should stay here with the car and I can go and get help.”

“You can’t leave me here alone. Didn’t you see Breakdown?”

“Breakdown?” he echoed.

Of course he hadn’t seen Breakdown. It wouldn’t be released for another fifty or so years. Still, they had movies in the forties. Most of them featured dancing, but still… “A movie about this guy and his wife with a broken-down car—”

“And it doesn’t have a happy ending?”

“Well, maybe, but there’s all sorts of unhappiness that starts pretty much as soon as their car dies.” She thought for a moment and then admitted, “It’s an awful movie, but it presents a convincing case not to ever leave anyone on the side of the road. Besides, I don’t speak Portuguese, if something happens to you, I’ll be toast…or road kill.”

He shook his head. “You do speak Spanish, and Portuguese, and French, and Italian.”

“Wow. You make my—er—me sound like a linguist. Maybe the old me knows all those languages. But this DeeDee,” she pressed her hand against her chest, “only knows English.” Determined not to be left behind, she turned and picked up her pace.

Liam caught up to her in two easy strides. Their boots crunched on the dirt road, and DeeDee thought about how the quiet could also be noisy.

“Tell me more about me and you,” she pressed.

He skated her a sideways glance. “What do you want to know?”

“How did we meet?”

“I was stationed in France. All of the Americans were being asked to evacuate. You didn’t want to leave.” He paused. “You really don’t remember this? You tried to convince me you were Parisian.”

“What gave me away?”

“A book jacket.”

“Oh, I guess I wasn’t very clever.”

“Oh, you were—are—clever, alright.”

“That’s nice of you to say, but I honestly don’t feel very clever at the moment.”

“No?”

She shrugged. “I can’t remember anything, but I’m pretty sure someone did this to me.”

“Someone stole your memories? I don’t think that’s possible. That sounds like something out of your books. Are you sure you aren’t just doing research?”

She elbowed. “I wouldn’t do that. I don’t lie.”

He muttered something that sounded like, since when? But she let the remark pass. “Have you read my books?”

“Some,” he said slowly.

He was lying, but she didn’t know if he hadn’t read them or if he’d read all of them.

He lifted an eyebrow. “Do you remember your books?”

“Not as well as I should.” She had devoured all seventeen of her grandmother’s book as a teenager, but that had been decades ago—no matter how you counted the time.

“Does amnesia work like that?”

“Memories coming in bits and pieces, you mean? I can’t speak for anyone but myself, you know.”

“Are you hungry?” He pointed at some purple orbs hanging on a vine twisting through a large tree. They looked like oversized plums.

She winced. “What is it?”

Liam strode over and plucked a particularly wrinkly one. “Passion fruit. It’s good.” He pulled a pocketknife from his knapsack and cut into the fruit. It was juicy and full of pulp and seeds. He handed a half to her, but since she didn’t know what to do with it, he bit into the other half to show her. “It’d be easier if we had spoons of course.” He wiped the juice dribbling down his chin with the back of his sleeve.

She mimicked him and made a face from the tartness.

He laughed. “You love passion fruit.”

“I do?”

“You did. I’m surprised you can’t remember eating it.”

They fell into a light-hearted argument on food, which led them to a discussion on the pros and cons of being raised in New England versus Texas. The hours passed quickly as they walked. To DeeDee’s amazement, the sun was soon hanging just over the horizon.

Bright lights crested over the hill and spilled toward them casting long shadows on the dirt road. Liam lifted his hand and DeeDee shielded her eyes. The pickup, an ancient Ford, rumbled to a stop next to them.

Liam elbowed her and nodded at the cages in the back of the truck. DeeDee had to stand on her toes, but after she did, she caught a glimpse of fluffy chickens with sharp beaks and beady black eyes. Excitement tingled down her spine.

The driver rolled down his window and called out a greeting to which Liam responded.

“He’s offering us a ride into town,” Liam told her.

“Ask him if he speaks English.”

Liam did as she asked, but the man looked apologetic and said, no.

Liam frowned but his expression turned hopeful when the driver pushed open the door. A shaggy dog occupying the passenger seat stared at them.

The driver shoved the dog to the floor and motioned for them to take a seat.

The quarters inside the truck were cramped, so DeeDee had to sit on Liam’s lap. She tried to remember the last time she’d sat on someone’s lap and failed. Liam had his arms loosely around her waist, holding her to him.

The dog watched them from under his bushy eyebrows, waiting for signs of aggression, clearly unhappy about being rousted from his spot on the passenger seat.

The man and Liam exchanged words while DeeDee and the dog shared glances.

“His name is Ricardo and this here is Pesos.” Liam nodded at the dog. “Ricardo thinks we’re married. I didn’t correct him.”

“Why not?”

“Why bother? In case you didn’t know or remember, most Brazilians are much more religious than the typical American. The two of us traveling together without being married could offend him.”

Ricardo put the truck in gear and asked something.

Liam’s response made Ricardo laugh.

DeeDee fought annoyance. “What’s he saying? What did you tell him?”

“I told him about the capybara.”

“Oh.” DeeDee felt silly, but still annoyed. She glanced at the fading sun and realized she hadn’t eaten since breakfast and now the sun was setting. She was always testy when hungry. “Did you ask him about chicken farms?”

Liam said something in Portuguese.

Ricardo’s expression turned serious and he answered.

“His farm is a three-hour drive to the north. He’ll spend the night in Grande Mercado, sell the chickens, and head home tomorrow.”

“Should we go with him?”

“Not if we’re following the map. The chicken farm didn’t look very far from Punto de Parada.”

DeeDee considered the sinking sun. “It might be dark by the time we get there.”

“It’s okay. We can get a room and start fresh in the morning.”

DeeDee wanted to ask why the dog couldn’t sit in the truck bed with the chickens, but since she’d rather ride with a dog pressing against her leg than walk the remaining five miles into town, she tried not to mind Pesos’s drool.

Sometime later, Liam gently shook her. “Wake up. We’re here.”

“Hmm?” She brushed her hair back and pushed Pesos’s head off her knee. The dog gave her a reproachful look.

The truck idled in the road, and the headlights illuminated a small village.

“We’re home?” DeeDee tried to gather her wits, but found it difficult. She’d been dreaming of Conectticut. Sledding and building snow forts, drinking hot chocolate and watching movies with her family. Another world.

“Punto de Parada,” Liam prompted. “Remember?”

“Oh, that’s right.” Brazil. 1947. Witching Well water. Handsome companion who seemed distrustful.

“Obrigada, Ricardo,” Liam said, sliding DeeDee off his lap before climbing out of the truck. He fumbled in his pocket and pulled out his wallet.

“No, let me,” DeeDee said, reaching into her bag.

Ricardo held up his hands like he was stopping traffic and shook his head.

“Are you sure?” DeeDee asked.

Ricardo said something.

“He told us to practice charity the next time we get a chance.” Liam told her.

“Aw, that’s sweet.”

Ricardo put his car into gear after DeeDee jumped out. Her foot had fallen asleep and she would have landed on her face if Liam hadn’t caught her.

They stood in the moonlight, Liam’s arms holding her against him. He looked down at her upturned face, his eyes as dark as the night sky. The thought of kissing Liam warmed her. She lifted her lips toward his, wanting to taste him, wanting him to want her.

She hadn’t thought of Liam like this until now, but somewhere on the drive her feelings had turned. Did he feel the same? The way he studied her lips whispered yes.

A kiss would complicate things, because one kiss wouldn’t be enough—she knew that when his lips met hers. There would have to be many, many kisses. Just one would never be enough.