Chapter 2

Two

Jade returned inside, peering several times over her shoulder, leaving the door open for two reasons: to allow the salty breeze to push out the closed-up smell, and as an invitation for the elderly man to enter—not that she’d voice those thoughts to her friend. Mari stood near the door, arms crossed and wearing a pooch-faced expression.

“The fresh air is nice, but won’t ferocious creatures take that as an invitation to visit?” she asked.

“Ferocious?” Jade said, but didn’t shut the door. She hesitated a moment. What sort of ferocious critters could be out there?

While she unloaded the food into the fridge that the handyman Juan had been kind enough to turn on, Mari pulled long blonde hair into a ponytail then started a pot of coffee, one eye never leaving the open door. Mari had always been a city girl, worried about burglars and things. Jade would not live life that way. Always in fear.

The scent of beans roasted here in the village, floated through the kitchen. 

They took cups of the fresh brew and sandwiches bought from a street kiosk, out to one of the half-dozen small metal tables on the patio. Two wire-backed chairs cuddled each one. At the end of the patio, at the juncture of a trail that meandered toward the back of the property, was a carved stone fountain. Not only didn’t it work, the salt air had eaten away the stone in many places. It would take a lot of expensive restoration to put it in working order.

Mari used a wad of paper towels to clear cobwebs from a table and chairs. “You know what I would do before anything else?” She sat and crossed her legs. Jade realized she’d changed her traveling skirt into shorts. “I would get that old fountain working.”

“Oh, yes. The trickling water, the chirping of the birds, and the scent of the flowers…” Jade took a long sniff of the afternoon air. “Perfect.”

“Don’t tell me you hear the birds out here too.”

Jade perked up her attention. “No parrots, but I see a great kiskadee.”

“A what!”

Jade pointed at the small red and yellow bird flitting nearby, curious at the intruders in its territory.

“How do you know the name of it?”

“When I knew I’d be coming here to live, I did some research. So now I know a little about a lot of things here.”

Mari divested her face of the frown that seemed intent on souring her mood, and gazed around the area. “It would be an amazing place for your customers to relax. And also a place for you to unwind.”

Those had been Jade’s exact thoughts two months ago when the letter from Grandfather invited—no, insisted—she come. She’d stood in this same place imagining how the gardens would look once wrestled into shape—the palms wafting above rather than snarled with everything. Brick paths lined with sweet scented flowers would meander around the trees and lead to small sitting areas on the one-acre property.

Another thought that had struck her back then—and confused her again right now—how would visitors get to this godforsaken village? Why would they? Sure, there were tourist attractions within a few miles, but there were larger and nicer hotels near those places. What could motivate anyone to slog along the bumpy, occasionally unpaved roads to come here? Even if her hotel provided transportation…

Jade crumbled the sandwich wrapper and stuffed it into the bag. While Mari went upstairs to unpack, she wandered along the walkway, so tired she was barely able to put one foot in front of the other. When her grandfather Zipacna had been alive, this property must have been a showplace. Mari was right. The fountain should be one of the first things put back into working order. Through the overgrowth and the thorny brambles, the elaborate design of the bricks was still discernable. In spite of the mess, the profusion of tiny flowers that perfumed the air provided an aura of complete harmony. 

From the back, the building looked like a large family home: five bedroom windows overlooked the courtyard. She’d chosen the one at the south side for her own because the ten-mile distant city of Tulum looked amazing at night. 

Jade wandered farther down the path watching for the man who’d been here earlier, and stepping carefully, not so much alert for teetering bricks, but snakes or other critters—the aforementioned ferocious creatures—who’d adopted this as their home in the year since her grandfather died. 

At this spot, the brick walk performed a half-circle around a flat-topped rock about six feet across. She climbed up and sat with her legs bent and arms wrapped around them, chin resting on her knees. Jade imagined the area as it would look: cozy alcoves with wooden swings or benches, soft music wafting through well-hidden speakers. And, not to forget, the fountain bubbling in the background. Maybe some birds would use it to bathe.

To her far left, two people sat on a stone bench. Their faces weren’t visible but one was definitely the same elderly man from earlier. The second person was small and dark skinned—possibly a child. The two were deep in conversation. An open book lay on the man’s lap; there was a pen gripped in his right hand and he was pointing with the tip of it to something on one of the pages. 

Jade unfolded her legs, ready to go speak to the visitors. A bird landed on a branch near her shoulder. It chattered happily; they made eye contact. “Good afternoon to you also.” The bird flitted away. Jade took the first steps to greet the man and child, but they were gone. Weird, she hadn’t noticed either of them move. There must be some sort of trail that accessed the property from the road.

Anyway, it was time to stop woolgathering, as her maternal grandmother used to say. There was a lot to get done around here. Best to do as much as possible in the three days Mari would be staying. 

She started toward the house…

What was happening? It was as though her entire body was vibrating. Every hair on her arms stood on end. Jade rubbed them with both hands, but the act did no good. Rather than the expected panic, and urge to dial 9-1-1—or the Mexican version of it—an intoxicating sensation of serenity wove throughout her being. 

Then, all at once, the vibrations stopped. The arm-hairs settled into place.

She waited a few seconds to see if the sensations began again. When they didn’t, she hurried back to the house where Mari was still seated at the table, although she had gone inside at some point to retrieve the coffeepot. Both cups were full.

Jade glanced behind her along the path. Nobody there.

“You were gone a long time,” Mari said. “I almost went looking for you.”

“I was…exploring.” 

Should she tell Mari what happened? Usually they discussed everything going on in their lives. But so far, Mari had said nothing positive about Mexico except in regards to the fountain. Better to keep quiet for now. Besides, right now, she had no idea just what was happening. No idea whatsoever. Yet.

“I still don’t get what’s here that made you want to dump your old life.”

Jade remained standing but turned her attention to her friend. “Half the time I don’t either, but two months ago… I don’t know; there’s something about this place. Something I—” She shifted from one sneakered foot to the other and spared another glance over her shoulder. “Mari, I can’t explain it.”

“Okay, but why not just take a leave of absence? Come here—temporarily—for a few months or so. If it doesn’t work out then you can come back home.” When Jade provided no response, Mari added, “Why did you have to get rid of all your things?”

Jade broke eye contact. “I know you don’t understand.”

“Damn right. Nobody does—not me, your boss, or Drake. To ditch a two-hundred-thousand-dollar-a-year job on a whim… Not to mention the upcoming promotion to vice pr—”

“Stop. Please. I’m not going to explain it again.”

“I’m sorry Jade, I love you dearly, but it boggles my brain.”

“I’m going out front to get some work done.” 

“I thought you were dead tired.”

She had been. But it was best to leave before this turned into an argument. Heaven knows enough of their discussions lately had resulted in one of them going home angry. On second thought, Mari was right. Twenty minutes ago, she had indeed been falling-down exhausted. Right now adrenaline rushed through her system like cars on the LA freeway. She picked up the coffeepot and took it inside. If she were honest with herself, the whole thing boggled her brain too—half the time. The other half, the decision to come here seemed absolutely right, as if she had no other choice. It was the other half of the time that gave her headaches. Literally. To obey a cryptic letter from a grandfather she’d neither seen nor spoken to in more than twenty years was ludicrous. But he’d left the hotel to her for a reason—an as-yet enigmatic reason. Why had he bypassed his only son—her father? If not him, weren’t there other, more deserving, relatives somewhere in the family tree? Sure, her dad had no siblings, and neither did she, but still…

Jade located the gardening tools in the shed beside the house. She fitted a pair of stained canvas gloves over the new manicure.

“How do you think Drake felt with you dumping him like that?”

She jumped at the sound of Mari’s voice behind her. Why wouldn’t she let up? They’d been through this on the plane—which, if she were to really think about it, was the real reason she was exhausted. 

“Jade.”

She stopped in her tracks, entwining her fingers to push the glove-fingers into place. “Mariette.” Jade only used her friend’s given name when she stepped over the line. And this was one of those times. 

Jade shoved a pair of pruning shears and a pair of gloves into Mari’s hands. “I didn’t dump him. I explained it to him just like I explained to you when this all started. The fact that none of you”—she let the last three words hang in the air—“try to understand things from my side…” It was pointless to complete the thought. She walked with a determined step around the building. Out of sight, out of mind, right?

“Well, I don’t get it, and neither does he,” Mari called. 

To stop the flow of negative words, Jade spun the other way and stalked to the side yard. Surprisingly, rather than storm off in a snit like she usually did, Mari followed and set to work beside her. 

They labored for over two hours butchering the jumble of vines knitted together at the front of the house—all the while Mari whined about her aching back—until the daylight was gone, and the air grew chilly. Jade could hardly stand the icy mood between them, but she wouldn’t give in; she was staying here in Mexico no matter what her mom, Mari, her boss, or even Drake had to say.

From the outset of the relationship with Drake, Jade had put work first. He had done the same and they’d fallen into an easy routine outside the office—essentially, friends with benefits. Nothing serious. Until she announced her decision to leave California. Then Drake proposed. With no prelude. She’d been shocked, to say the least. If he’d asked months ago, would it have changed anything? No. She had been on a one-way highway to somewhere as yet unnamed.

Mari reminded Jade of the hour: after nine o’clock. Even so, she didn’t want to stop working. She felt energized—like she could go on all night. They stood back to study the results of their labor. Even in the dim light, the place looked more lived in, more friendly. The porch spanned the entire front of the house. Two sets of French doors opened onto it—one from the foyer, the other from the living room. The porch was barren of furniture except for an old wooden swing. No bird cage. Jade shook the image from her brain and replaced it with bright white wicker chairs and rockers with brilliant patterned cushions. And maybe at some point, a real bird cage in the corner with talking macaws just like the ones when they arrived. 

Enough. There had been no birds.

Why birds would be on her mind she had no idea. She’d never owned a pet in her life.

She and Mari stood near the shed door removing the work gloves and flexing tired shoulders and spines. They’d amassed pile in the driveway that towered nearly as high as the eaves, and a stack of dry branches beside the stone-fronted fireplace in the living room, which, except for the kitchen across the back, graced the entire north side of the house. The living room was amazing. Long and narrow with a pair of French doors at either end; one opened onto the front porch, the other on the stone patio. The room had two fireplaces; one in what was clearly a living area, the other more like a library.

After cold showers, because the water heater didn’t work—which started Mari complaining again—they settled with glasses of wine in the big living room bundled in blankets against the chilly November night, watching flames flicker in the fireplace. Conversation covered dozens of topics, all but the one foremost on Jade’s, and probably Mari’s, mind—why the hell she’d moved here. Mari didn’t understand and, if she were to be honest, she didn’t either. All Jade knew was she had to be here.

They retired at midnight. Mari to one of the guest rooms on the second floor, and Jade to hers. Tulum—a place she’d toured with fervor back in September—was lit up like a Christmas tree. It glowed colorful against the cloudless horizon.

***

High-pitched screams rocked Jade from bed, adrenaline racing through her veins. She shot barefoot into the hallway. A nanosecond later, silhouetted in gold from the bedside lamp, Mari launched from her room. There was no question Mari was the source of the ear-splitting racket.

“What’s wrong?” Jade approached her.

“Don’t tell me you didn’t hear it.” Mari raked a hand through long reddish hair.

“Hear what?”

“The voice.”

Jade asked the obvious question: “Voices?” She’d been tossing and turning for hours. If there were voices she should’ve heard them.

“Voice. One voice.” Mari grabbed her arm and hauled her downstairs turning on every light they passed, except the foyer chandelier—nothing happened when she hit the switch.

Clearly, Mari had experienced a nightmare. Jade didn’t ask questions—just marched to the kitchen, poured two glasses of wine, sat, and waited until the white around her friend’s eyes stopped showing.

Mari’s glass was almost empty before she spoke again. “Someone whispered to me.”

“Oookay.” Jade didn’t mean to sound doubtful, but really, why couldn’t Mari realize it was a dream? To ease the tense atmosphere, she added, “What did he say? Or was it a she?”

“I don’t know. I was sleeping.”

“Then how do you kn—” Stop. Bad choice of words. Jade clamped her lips tight and ordered herself to wait for Mari to volunteer further information.

“I only heard the end of what he said.”

“Are you sure it wasn’t the wind, or palm fronds swooshing against the house? Sometimes back in Monterey, when—”

“I know what I heard.” 

If the words had been bullets, she would’ve been physically wounded.

Okay, try another tack. “What did it say?” Jade asked.

“I don’t know. It wasn’t English.”

There was no plausible rebuttable to that so she topped off the glasses. At this rate, they’d have to open a winery instead of a hotel. 

“I’m leaving in the morning. I have to get out of here.” Mari stood, polished off the remaining liquid in the glass, clinked the wineglass into the dishwasher, and tiptoed back upstairs as if listening for the voice’s return.

Jade waited until the bedroom door clicked shut, then stashed her glass in the dishwasher and re-corked the bottle. She went to her room where she laid identifying constellations through the rectangle of sky visible between the curtains in the top half of the window. Once work was finished on the rest of the place, she’d have French doors and a deck built outside here. On cool nights, she could sit there, bundled in a comforter—not so much against the cold, but the insects—watching the stars, learning constellations, something she hadn’t studied since she went through a phase at the age of twelve.

What prompted Mari’s spontaneous decision? Had it merely been the voice, or did something else alarm her? Jade turned on her side and punched the pillow into shape, taking out the frustrations of the day on the goose down. Granted, they were in a country far from home, the hotel had been empty for a while…and it was a little spooky—all right, a lot spooky. Add that to the fact that Mari was easily frightened—she wouldn’t even watch trailers to horror movies—it made sense she’d want to get out. 

More than likely the situation with Mari was a lot simpler. Her born-and-bred city-friend couldn’t take the physical labor and concocted the whispered voice for one of two reasons, 1- to get out of further hard work, 2- and maybe more important, to influence Jade into going home with her. 

Not happening.