to.
William became serious, realizing something very important. “Oh… my… God!” he said, jumping up.
“What is it?” Betty sprang to an immediate stance and scrambled away from the lake, as if she thought a crocodile had made its way over.
“They’ll think we’re dead,” William blurted. “Your husband already does. We need to hustle back before my mom gets any wind of this. It would devastate her.” He checked his watch. “It’s six-thirty. Hopefully, we can make it back before sundown.” He looked to the sky with a confused expression, squinting from the glare of the sun. “That’s strange.”
“What?”
“The sun,” he said, pointing at it. “It’s in the middle of the sky.”
“Well, of course it is,” she said. “Where did you expect to find it?”
“At this time of day, shouldn’t it be a little further down-closer to the horizon?”
Betty looked at the sky and shrugged. “Don’t know what to say to that, Will.”
They climbed further up the rocks, pushed aside the thick vegetation, and stepped into the shade of the tropical forest. “Look!” William said, pointing to the remnants of a trail overgrown by the jungle. “I bet this path leads back to the Cenote Azul.”
Betty became distracted by a mango tree nearby; its branches were hanging low to the ground from the weight of the ripened fruit. She maneuvered around the rotting mangos on the ground and plucked a couple of plump reddish-green mangos from a branch. “Hungry?” she asked, tossing one to William.
“Thanks,” he said, digging his fingers into the mango, the sweet juice squirting out. He tore it into two pieces and devoured the mango from the inside-out. Betty, on the other hand, ate her mango like an apple-peel and all.
When they finished their snack, William wiped his hands on his shorts and clapped them together in an inspirational manner. “Okay, let’s get going,” he said, and began marching up the trail. Every step accompanied a twinge of pain from his injured feet, but he tuned it out. He had to get back before his mom found out he was missing. William knew his mom would be upset for what he did, but there had to be some merit for rescuing Betty. He figured he might even make the news, and imagined his story going viral on the internet. That would get his girlfriend’s attention back, he thought.
“So where did you say you’re from?” Betty asked.
William slapped the side of his head to ward off a pesky mosquito buzzing in his ear, and then he whacked at one biting his thigh. “Right now, we’re staying at my grandfather’s estate in Calderas, but I grew up mostly in California,” he said.
“So your mom is Mexican?”
“Yep, and half Mayan, too.”
Betty picked up her pace and moved ahead of William, giving him a curious stare. “You don’t look Hispanic,” she said. “You have blonde hair and blue eyes.”
“I know. Everyone says I’m my dad’s little clone,” he said with his voice cracking. “They say the only thing I got from my mom was her blood type.”
“I’ll have to invite you and your folks over for dinner before you go back to the states. How long are you in town?” she asked.
Their walk slowed until they came to a complete stop, looking all around, unable to find the continuation of the trail. They retraced their steps and discovered where a fallen tree had diverted them off course. After climbing over the tree trunk, they rested there for a moment before continuing on.
“I’m not sure when… or if… we’re going back to the states,” William said with a mixture of sadness and frustration. “You see… my dad died last winter.”
Betty put her arm around his shoulder. “Oh, I’m so sorry, William. How did he…”
“A scuba accident,” he said, pulling away from her, blinking hard to keep his emotions locked down. “I can’t have my mom thinking the same of me. We have to get back.” He walked at an even faster pace up the trail.
“I guess we’re neighbors then,” Betty said, changing the focus of the conversation. “We live right here in Bacalar now, but I’m from lots of places.”
As Betty continued to chatter on about her life story, William replied with an occasional, “uh huh,” while focusing his attention on the trail ahead; he was more concerned about the lizards and snakes that darted by. In many places, the thick jungle vegetation obscured their path, and their progress slowed even more when they had to duck under and climb over fallen trees-a process that went on for a couple hours.
William tapped on his watch, wondering why it displayed 9:10; it was still light as day.
“When my folks heard that Burt and I were moving to Mexico, they let me have it-never liked the idea.” Betty bumped into William after he stopped suddenly.
“What’s the matter?”
“Be quiet,” he whispered, standing very still-gazing into the jungle ahead. Amidst the loud buzz of insects was a faint, rhythmic beat. “Do you hear that?”
Betty tilted her head and cupped a hand behind her ear. “Like what?” she asked.
“Like a drum beat,” he said. “Boom… k’boom… k’boom. Don’t you hear it?”
She shook her head. “Your hearing must be better than mine.”
“I think we’re getting close to the restaurant,” he said with a big smile.
They continued on for another hour until they came across a small cenote, about thirty feet in diameter, along the side of the trail.
Betty jumped into the lake with a big splash, drinking from the cool water while swimming in place. After the crocodile incident, William took a moment to survey the area for any dangers. Drenched with sweat, and itching from the mosquito bites that he had endured along their hike, he also plunged into the refreshing lake.
After satisfying his thirst, William climbed onto a rock and examined his feet; they throbbed with pain.
“Doesn’t look too good, Will,” Betty said, noticing the cuts and blisters on the bottom of his feet.
“Doesn’t feel too good either. How are yours?”
“Oh, don’t worry about my footsies. They’re hard as a rock,” she said, lifting a foot out of the water in his direction. “I’ve been hoppin’ around these parts without shoes for some years now. But you… we’re gonna have to do something about your feet.”
While William sat at the cenote’s edge with his feet soaking in the water, Betty went ashore and plucked several thick leaves from a nearby bush. She removed her shirt and walked topless over to the cenote. William’s eyes popped open, getting a good look at her figure. He turned away before she caught him staring. Betty grabbed a rock near the water’s edge and cut the bottom half of her shirt loose. She put the top half back on and tore the remaining pieces of fabric into thin strips. She sat beside William and snatched one of his feet from the water, putting it onto her lap. She laid a piece of the shirt over the bottom of his foot, followed by several layers of leaves, and secured them with strips of the torn-up shirt.
As he watched Betty occupy herself with his other foot, William couldn’t help noticing what great shape she was in. Although slender, with a nice figure, she also had firm well-defined muscles. He recalled how she had kept up with him on their long hike, and she seemed to have even more stamina than he did.
Betty finished wrapping his foot and looked up. William’s eyes jumped up to meet hers. “Everything okay?” she asked.
“Er, uh,” he blushed, removing his foot from her lap. “You’re doing pretty well through all this, for a woman your age,” he said, trying to say something to excuse how he had been staring at her body.
“A woman of my age?”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean…”
Betty laughed. “Don’t worry. I’ll take that as a compliment. How old are you?” she asked.
William got up and walked around, trying out his makeshift shoes. “I’m… almost eighteen,” he said, lowering the pitch of his voice when he spoke.
Betty smiled. “I remember when I used to say
“No way!” William said. “I figured you were in your early thirties.”
“Yeah, nice try,” she said with a raised eyebrow.
“No really, you look great.” He found it hard to believe that she was even older than his mom.
