Treasures of the Heart. Carol W. Hazelwood

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СКАЧАТЬ engine rumbled as Lucia turned the key. “Elaine sounded happy over the phone, and Paul has always been the quiet Nordic brooding type. There was no hint of anything amiss. The felt you needed a change of scenery and a good dose of Mexican happiness. Sometimes our imagination begins when we don’t understand something.”

      “What don’t I understand?” Beth asked.

      “That only you can say.” Lucia maneuvered the truck out onto Avenida Rio Churubusco.

      “Is this truck yours?” Beth asked, changing the subject.

      “Surprised? I need it for my trips to the various archeological digs. I’m off to a dig this weekend, so you’ll get a full lesson on what life’s like in the jungle. You’re dressed for rugged work, I see.”

      “Yeah, but I hadn’t figured on the jungle. Are we going through downtown Mexico City now?”

      “Madre de Dios. Not if I can help it. I take the bus or a peso cab when I go into town. I live in Colonia San Angel near the University.”

      Lucia’s short arms and heavy torso seemed to encircle the steering wheel. Beth grinned at the picture she made, then she looked out the window. It was all so unbelievable to be here. Only a few hours ago she’d said good-bye to her parents at the Los Angeles airport. “What time is it?”

      “Thirteen fifteen. You’ll get used to the twenty-four hour clock system here. We’re on what you call Central Time, two hours later than Los Angeles. Perhaps you know that we have our main meal at midday and eat supper around twenty two hours. That’s ten o’clock in your time system. Rosario, my landlady, is having a barbecue for us. She’s a great cook, and I often buy meals from her, so I don’t have to prepare them myself.

      “Tomorrow I must be at the University early, but later we’ll go into the city to meet a friend of mine, and I’ll take you on a short tour of the Museo Nacional De Anthropologia. What do you say to that?”

      Beth shrugged. “Whatever you think.”

      “Good. I think it best, because the following day we leave for the state of Guerrero and the Local Institute of Man in the town of San Jeronimo. That’s on the coast. There you’ll meet the other students who work and study in connection with the University in the fields of anthropology, paleontology or archeology. Also there’s a special site at San Jose de Concha where we’ll spend some time.”

      “What’s the Institute of Man?”

      “A small museum with a director who monitors the findings of the western cultures in the area.”

      “Western cultures?”

      “The term can be confusing. We use it to describe those subcultures that had villages that coexisted at the time of the Aztecs, but have many similarities to the earlier Olmecs. The locals find artifacts in the tropical forest and bring them to the Institute to sell or trade. The Director of the Institute keeps the artifacts and records where they were found.”

      Lucia smiled at Beth’s blank look. “Don’t worry. You’ll learn all about this as well as improve your Spanish as if you were a sponge. By the time you go home the end of August, you won’t be the same person.”

      “Hope my parents are like they used to be when I get back,” Beth said more to herself than to Lucia.

      “Don’t fret, chiquita. You can’t influence their lives, so do the best with your own.”

      Beth lapsed into silence and listened to Lucia’s running commentary about the countryside. Although Beth was excited to be in Mexico, she felt drained. Lucia turned off the main road and drove uphill on a cobblestone street. They emerged into an area with five story apartment houses covered with pink stucco. She parked in front of apartments with barred windows and bright colored tiles set along the base of the foundation. After hauling out her suitcases, Beth waited while Lucia unlocked a double steel door, then followed with her suitcase bumping as she trudged up a flight of tiled stairs behind Lucia. By the time she entered Lucia’s apartment, she was out of breath.

      “It’s the altitude,” Lucia said, as she showed Beth around the small apartment.

      It was neat, small and full of cheerful colors, just like Lucia. The tiny kitchen had a propane stove. Throw rugs covered the multicolored tile floor. A book case lined one wall of the living area, and doors opened onto a small balcony that had a view of the University and the city beyond. At least, that’s what Lucia said about the view. Thick smog screened the scenery.

      “You’ll stay in my bedroom. I’ll use my office while you’re here.” Before Beth could argue, Lucia raised her hand. “No arguments, chiquita. This is the best solution. Sometimes I get up in the middle of the night to work. My brain does not always like to rest when my body does.”

      Just as Lucia opened the doors to the balcony, large raindrops pummeled the tile. “Lovely, no? It will stop soon, and the air will be fresher. Las aguas, the summer rains. A little early. Next week is San Juan’s Day, the traditional beginning of las aguas.”

      After Beth had settled in, and the rains had stopped, they went down to visit with Rosario, who was outside in the garden overseeing a steaming pit. She was well named; her hair was flaming red and, although it was cut short, it frizzed out in all directions. Rosario welcomed them with a cheerful flood of Spanish and pressed a lukewarm coke into Beth’s hand. Lucia cautioned Rosario to speak slower. Although interested in everything around her, Beth’s head throbbed from Rosario’s rapid Spanish.

      “You’re pale and tired, Beth,” Lucia noted. “It’s from the trip and the altitude. You’ll feel better tomorrow. Today eat only a little bit. Rosario will understand. I should take my own advice.” She giggled like a young girl and patted the sides of her curvaceous hips.

      “You’re beautiful.” Beth couldn’t imagine Lucia any other way. “You don’t have to worry.”

      “For those words, you are my truest friend. No matter how much I muck around at digs, I cannot lose this baggage.” She glanced down at her rounded body.

      In slower Spanish, Rosario told Lucia that she was too concerned with her looks. “Marcos likes you just as you are.”

      Lucia blushed and turned toward Beth. “You’ll meet him tomorrow. Doctor Marcos Arillos Gonzales is an absent-minded veterinarian, who’s devoted to his patients. In return, all animals embrace him. He’s consumed by a dream of establishing an exotic animal park where inner city children can experience the wildlife of Mexico. I take only a little part of his heart when it’s not occupied with the thoughts of animals.”

      Beth hoped Marcos wasn’t one of those people who believed wild animals belonged in cages. “I worked in a pet store at home.”

      “Then you’ll be soul mates.”

      Rosario fussed over Beth as though she were a long lost child and served the barbecued meal with a flourish, adding little plates of condiments on the side.

      “What kind of meat is it?” Beth asked.

      “Barbacoa,” Rosario said.

      “I know, but what kind of barbacoa?”

      Lucia noticed Rosario’s discomfort and intervened. “It’s goat’s meat, steamed and baked in an earth СКАЧАТЬ