Paper Dolls (25 page)

“Yeah. I’ve scheduled a week off.”

“Well thanks. I appreciate you coming. Mom wouldn’t have let me travel here if you hadn’t been dropping in.”

“I guessed that much. What’s next on the agenda? You’ve seen Batopilas and Urique so far—where to from here?”

“Just a few odd treks here and there. Maybe we’ll go see the Hacienda ruins tomorrow.”

“Mind if I come along?”

“You’d want to come?”

“Sure. Why not?”

There was no way I was going to be able to explain to him why I was really here and what we were going to be doing. But I couldn’t see how I was going to be able to put him off.

He pressed his lips together. “Well, I have some work to finish up. I’ll head back to my room and get some done.”

I wandered back to the lodge. The boys sat in the lobby, sipping multi-colored drinks. Emerson held up his glass to me. “Thought we’d try some of the local spirits. Hey, when in Mexico….”

They looked like they’d been relaxing there for the past hour, save for the sweat soaking through their shirts.

Zach stood his head to give me a light kiss. “Sorry, I reek!”

“Where have you guys been?”

“We had a look on our own for the book,” Zach admitted. “Trying to save you from having to do it. We checked out a few of the caves up there.”

I smiled up at him in surprise. “Find anything?”

“Yeah,” he said. “About six scorpions, fifty bats and one buzzard.”

“He forgot to mention the bones,” added Parker. “Loads of bones.”

“Well, thanks for trying. Did Molandah go with you?”

“Nah, she went to have a sleep in her room,” said Zach. He nestled his head against mine. “How about you and me take off for a while by ourselves later?” he whispered.

I nodded. The sound and touch of Zach was fast blowing away that whole awkward scene with my father.

The local Indians strummed guitars in the streets and beat drums in the hills, serenading the setting sun. Zach and I stepped along the cobblestoned street, easing into the balmy air, feeling the velvety night drifting in. I’d changed my hiking books and shorts for a casual, strapless dress.

Zach put his arm around me, squeezing my shoulder. “Long day?”

“Yeah. But everything’s good now.”

Zach pulled me behind a lush, flowering tree. “I’ve wanted to do this all day.” He bent to kiss me, his lips crushing into mine.

The kiss was long, growing more intense. I didn’t want it to stop—ever. I wanted to live inside his kiss. No thoughts, no words—just this.

But he moved away, pressing his head against my temple. “Want you so badly. But there’s so many things pulling you away from me… so many things.” He held my face between his hands, staring at me with soulful eyes. “I want to hold you like this forever, but you’re a paper doll, Cassie. A beautiful paper doll. You’ll blow away from me soon. I never really had you. I can never keep hold of you.”

I gazed at him numbly. “It’s
me
who won’t be able to keep hold of
you
. You already warned me.” I bit my lip. “I understand. And I’m here with you, knowing that.”

“I wish I could just shut my mouth. This was supposed to be a nice night together. And here I am wrecking it.”

“You’re not wrecking anything. But I agree, you should shut your…” I kissed him full on his mouth. He still smelled vaguely of the tequila he’d drunk earlier.

A group of men moved through the main street. The Indians stared openly at the newcomers in town. The travelers were dressed in those clothes the rich wear when they are trying to ‘dress down’.

“Let’s go somewhere more private.” Zach took my hand and we wandered away in the opposite direction, towards the pounding drums that kept time with the heart that crashed in my chest.

I opened my eyes to the sight of high mountain peaks, capped with snow. Part of my mind was sweeping backwards, remembering another time. No, not remembering. Seeing. Seeing things from a different time.

Molly sat huddled with a blanket around her, staring at the same mountains. She turned, coming to sit by me on the bed. “Cassie, are you okay? You don’t look well.”

I shut my eyes tightly. “I want you to take me back. Back to the time of Tobias and Jessamine.”

She moved her concerned face in front of mine. “Now? Are you sure?”

“Yes. Please just do it.”

Molly stepped over to move a chair to my bedside. She brushed a strand of hair from my forehead. “If this works, remember you can stop it at any time. Say the words,
get out now
.”

I nodded.

She cleared her throat. “
Horror unique animos, simul ipsa silentia terrent.”
She ran her hands through her thick hair nervously. “I hope I got that right. I’ve been practising.”

I felt myself begin to drift.

“Cassie,” she said, “you will go back to when Tobias and Jessamine Fiveash were here in Urique. You will see a child named… Philomena….”

I shifted, rolling onto my back in the bed. The next moment I could barely feel my limbs.

An aged man sat on the edge of his bed in a white singlet.
Tobias.
J
essamine slept soundly. A short distance away, a mother and child slept in one bed while the men slept on the floor. The child opened her huge dark eyes, staring at Tobias. She crept from her mother’s arms and over to the rug on the floor.

Tobias’ eyes crinkled as he smiled at her. “You remind me of Jessamine when she was your age.”

Then he frowned deeply, as though he’d just had another thought. He leant to scoop up his coat which was neatly folded on the floor beside his bed. He pulled out a battered book—a book with a cover of indeterminate color. The mirrored image of a tree was barely discernible on the cover.

He handed it to the child. "You know a hidey-hole? A cave that no one knows?"

Philomena nodded.

"I'll give you this,” He took a handful of coins from the coat and held them out to her. “if you can take the book and hide it where no one can ever find it. The book is worth nothing. It's just some old writing. But it's special to me."

Her eyes grew large. She dropped the money into her pinafore pocket and dashed off with the book under her arm.

Tobias’ eyes closed and he fell into sleep, still sitting—tired from the small effort of speaking.

“Cassie? Are you okay?” Molly’s voice filtered through.

“I’m okay,” I told her.

Dark clouds blotted the sky as the child skipped and jumped from rock platform to rock platform on her way up to the caves. Men in suits walked near the caves, stooping here and there to peer in.

Philomena stood on a high rock outcrop, hugging the book under her shirt. She turned and ran. The men barely seemed to notice her. The little girl ran tirelessly, all the way to the outskirts of Batopilas, to the massive arched entrance to a tunnel. A line of mules stood near the entrance as men and women loaded their packs with a dark metal. Silver. The arched tunnel led to a silver mine.

The little girl slipped inside. Dimly-lit tracks disappeared into a network of narrow tunnels. The girl ran through a tunnel barely large enough for a man to pass through—with rough, rocky walls and a rubble-strewn floor. She stopped before a shrine that had been cut into the wall. Religious statues—small wooden carvings of Mary, Joseph and baby Jesus in a hut—were arranged inside, candles flickering around them. A man in ragged clothing walked through the tunnel, halting to kneel and cross his chests in front of the shrine. He spoke words in Indian to Philomena, and pointed to the way out emphatically. I could tell he wanted Philomena to leave quickly. The man continued on through the tunnel. Philomena checked behind her before sliding the book behind the shrine.

Her hand reached into her pinafore pocket, jingling Tobias’s coins as she retraced her steps out of the mine. A man with blond hair and sharp features strode bent his tall frame as he strode along the tunnel. A group of white men walked behind him. None of them were dressed like workers.

“You there,” shouted the blond man at Philomena. “You little beggar. What are you doing in here? Stealing silver? Come here and let me check your pockets!”

She backed away, her eyes large in the brunt of an angry language she didn’t understand. She fled further into the mine. Further and further, dodging wooden pylons and rattling mine carts.

My breaths squeezed short and painfully through my chest. I wanted her to run the other way. I wanted her to show the men she had none of their silver.

“Cassie, get out now,” warned Molly.

I couldn’t tear myself away from the sight of Philomena’s small limbs as she clambered over a set of still mining carts to reach a deep part of the mine, where the tunnel hadn’t even been dug out properly yet. She wriggled through a hole in the wall.

“Come back…” I breathed.

“Get out now!” Molly grasped my arm, shaking it.

A blast rocked the mine. Pylons toppled and fell. Mine workers scattered as the ceiling fell in and rubble exploded around them. The hole that Philomena had crawled through was now a large, gaping space. Dirt thickened in the air.

“No!” I screamed.

“Cassie, you get out—now—,” yelled Molly. “Now!”

I opened my eyes, staring at her, with the last image of the little Indian girl burned into my mind.

My father, true to his word, was waiting for us to begin the days hike. I’d been hoping he’d change his mind or have urgent work to attend to—anything to keep away today. But it seemed even a herd of wild elephants wasn’t going to keep him away.

The only positive was that, with his SUV, we could get back to Batopilas quickly. My father took us to The Lost Church of Satevo and the ruins of Hacienda first—the things any tourist to Batopilas would want to see
.
The silver mine was last on his list, and we just had to be patient.

Finally, we stood before the arched entrance I’d seen in my vision.

“Why do you kids want to see this so badly?” my father asked.

“I’m studying the Tarahumara Indians for school, Mr. Claiborne,” replied Zach. “I believe they worked in this mine.”

“Well, it’s going to be pretty dark and confined in there. Maybe not the best place for my daughter to go, considering.”

“Yes sir,” said Zach.

“It’s okay,” I told my father. “I want to see it.”

Zach secretly slid his hand over mine as we stepped inside. I glanced across at Molly. Her expression was tense. I reached for her hand and she turned to give me a thin-lipped smile. The air inside the mine smelled of dirt and age. It was already warmer inside here than it was outside. I hated to think what it was like in summer.

Emerson and Parker flashed their torchlights ahead in the tunnel and we followed after them. I looked over my shoulder, just to reassure myself the entrance was still open to the bright day outside, and caught Molly doing the same.

I gasped as Parker shone his torch on the shrine in the wall. It looked exactly as it had when I had seen it. I nodded at Zach to tell him that was it, and he looked uneasily towards the shrine.

“Well, I’ve seen enough,” I announced.

Part of me wanted to run through the cave and search for Philomena. My rational brain told me that the explosion had happened a hundred years ago.

Molly walked beside me as we made our way out into the sunshine.

A shout echoed from back inside. The torches were thrown up into the air, landing with a loud clatter. Zach and Emerson emerged, their arms around my father’s shoulders. He dragged his foot, his face screwed up in pain. Parker walked behind with the torches.

“What happened?” I cried.

“Someone else is in there.” Zach drew his eyebrows together. “They just ran at us as we looking at the shrine. We all got tripped up, and your dad fell to the ground and twisted his ankle.”

“We should get the police,” I said.

“No, probably just a local who’s angry there’s tourists poking around in there. Let’s just get out of here.” My father limped towards his car, still aided by Zach and Emerson.

“Did you three… find anything?” Molly said in a low voice to Parker.

He shook his head. “Nothing. If there was anything there, it’s long gone.”