The Jungle’s Secret, Part Two
Photo by Isaac Quesada
Rose and Vero — realizing the density of the overgrowth of brambles beneath shorter-than-most palms and the variety of scraggly deciduous trees, which were all difficult to wade through, and them being dressed in shorts and flip flops- decided to wait in the cart for the help to arrive to point the way.
Leaving the women to direct the helpers, Michael, Keith, and I started out on the narrow trail we found, in search for my wife, who had disappeared the night before. Dodging the thorny bushes made the walk arduous. It was especially bad for me with my blurred vision and pounding head, from my concussion, wanting nothing more than to lean against a tree and sleep. But I had to press on; I had to save Lola.
It wasn’t long before we heard shouts behind us.
“Ah! The Calvary has arrived,” Michael stated.
“I hope Roberto is amongst the group, because he knows this area well, and maybe even knows of a hide-out where Lola could be kept,” I stated.
“Ben! Keith! Michael!” It was definitely Roberto’s voice. I felt relieved.
“We’re here, just ahead!” Keith shouted back. We’ll wait for you.”
It wasn’t long when we heard chopping sounds, as the men chopped their way through some of the worst of the bushes with machetes, widening the path or making a path of their own to reach us quicker.
“Thank you for coming,” I told the three men when they appeared. “The perfect guides.”
Roberto had brought along two of the community’s Mayan workers, Abi and Bartolo.
“Rose and Vero told me what happened,” Roberto said, and asked, “How are you feeling?”
When I told him that I felt lousy, and my head seemed as if it was splitting open, I also told him that I was okay, and needed to go with and help find my wife.
He said, “I have an idea where she might be. There is a cave not far from here.”
The Yucatán Peninsula, the site of the Chicxulub crater impact, was created 66 million years ago by an asteroid of about 10 to 15 kilometers (6 to 9 miles) in diameter at the end of the Cretaceous Period. This resulted in the formation of the Yucatan peninsula and its limestone base. That porous limestone created caves and sinkholes called cenotes that were used by the Maya to access the groundwater. There were hundreds of grand and small cenotes and caves throughout the peninsula, even in our area near the Caribbean, and Roberto had explored many of them.
Photo by Jared Rice
“I think I know of these people.” Roberto continued. “They are very bad. We need to find your wife quickly, because they may take her away soon to a place where they can sell her for lots of money. I have heard that there is an auction going on somewhere near Cancun that sells women and children as slaves, or whatever, to wealthy assholes overseas.”
My eyes widened and my mouth dropped open at this news. “Are the authorities doing anything to stop this?” I asked.
“They try, but someone in the police department must be on the take because when the cops make a plan to raid the place and capture these people, there is no one there. They had moved. It’s sad,” Roberto lamented. “So, we need to find her before they leave. It is early enough that we may have a chance. They probably stayed up late into the night drinking, which seems to be their habit, and will sleep late. Let’s hope. I will call the guardhouse to have them get a hold of the Policía Federal Ministerial to bring some men. The local police will not come here.”
While Roberto was on his mobile phone talking in his rapid Spanish to the guards in our community, my stomach was clenching from fear, and I desperately tried not to throw up. My head wasn’t helping the situation.
“Okay, let’s go!” Roberto announced, and was off, with the rest of us following.
It seemed like a really long time, to me, when we finally stopped and Roberto told us that the place was just ahead, but someone else said, “That didn’t take as long as I thought.”
I guessed that no matter the time we walked, it would have been too long for me. I was feeling miserable, mentally, emotionally, and physically. It was a struggle to keep from throwing up in my state of being at that moment.
“Abi and Bartolo will scout out the cave. They can be silent and will know what to do. Then one of them will come back and report while the other keeps watch,” Roberto told us.
I groaned. I had to sit. Just as I put my hand on a tree as leverage to let me down gently, Roberto screamed, “No! Not that tree. Move away quickly! That’s the poison one.”
I looked at my hand that had started to look a bit red. Roberto then took his machete and cut a vertical piece of bark from the neighboring tree, put it on my hand, and rubbed it around. “This is the antidote tree. If applied right away, you won’t get the rash as bad.”
My hand, which had started burning, soon cooled down.
“Wow! That was amazing,” I told him. “Thanks! That’s all I would have needed to send me over the edge.” And with that realization, I suddenly felt a bit better. Not a lot, but enough to keep going.
“What are those trees?” I asked, to keep my mind from spiraling into panic when thinking about what Lola might be going through.
“The tree you touched is called the Chechen tree, or Black Poisonwood tree, and the one I cut the bark from is the Chaca tree.
“Mayan legend tells a story about these trees, which is interesting, but I don’t have time to tell you now. Maybe later.”
My hand, which I thought would be on fire and blistering by that time, was merely tingly and only slightly red. I showed it to Roberto and said, “You saved me from a greater discomfort with your quick thinking and knowledge. Thank you!”
Before he could respond, Bartolo came running up, chattering excitedly in Spanish to Roberto. My Spanish was passable, but when spoken so quickly, I only caught a few words that I understood. Something about four men.
Roberto responded, and the man ran off again.
“Bartolo told me that they could see four men passed out around the entrance to the cave but didn’t see the señora. He said that she may have been further inside the cave where it was darker, where they couldn’t see.”
“What about weapons?” Michael asked. “Did they see any weapons?”
“I asked him that, and he shook his head. Only a machete was leaning up against the nearest man’s chair. But, of course, that doesn’t mean they don’t have more. They likely would not want them out in the open where they could be seen,” Roberto explained.
“What do we do now?” Keith asked.
Photo by Juan Jose Porta
“The women will be waiting to talk to the Federales when they arrive, and when they come, Vero, who speaks Spanish, can explain what is happening and can direct them to the path. But we want to get there before those bastards wake up, so we need to get going.
“I’ll take you guys closer to keep watch to make sure they don’t leave with Lola or harm her. I have my machete and a knife and will chop a couple of sturdy branches for clubs.“ Which he then proceeded to do.
“We may be able to keep them at bay until help comes,” Roberto stated, and then added, “At least I hope we can if there aren’t more men than what Bartolo and Abi could see, and there aren’t firearms within reach.”
With the chagrined look on our faces, Roberto added, “It is my guess that these guys are likely some of the Chicleros. These guys are generally considered to be the true guardians of the Maya Forest because, thanks to their activities, they’ve protected the second largest rainforest in the world. But, they are also driven by the increased popularity and demand for chewing gum, because they tap into the Chicle trees for sap that makes chewing gum. They’ve lived in the jungle, and more recently have gotten a bad reputation for being mean bastards. They also won’t likely have more than rudimentary weapons.
“They wouldn’t have access to firearms, and even if they did, they’d not have ready access to bullets, so they likely wouldn’t bother with that kind of weapon. They are masters with a knife, which they probably make from obsidian found in Chiapas, as well as handmade axes, and machetes. They’d get by and would do a lot of damage with those tools, their meanness, and their hands.”
I let out a groan, not liking this new information.
Roberto looked at me and said, “You need to stay here, too, because you would be more of a hazard than help in your state.”
“I can’t stay. I have to do what I can. I won’t be in the way, and I won’t be a hazard. I’m going with you.”
“Okay, but if you feel at any time that you are too dizzy or weak to proceed, just stop where you are, and we’ll go on.”
When I nodded my assent, Roberto said, “Let’s get going.”
The path seemed to get worse instead of better, but with Roberto’s hacking, it was easier for us to make our way into the density of this wild habitat.
At a point when I thought I needed to rest, Roberto stopped. We could see a clearing ahead through the trees.
Not wanting to go barging out into that treeless space, he said to us, “I’ll take a look, find Abi and Bartolo, and then come and let you know what we need to do. But keep quiet. Sound carries.”
Fine with me, I thought, relieved that I could take a break without holding anyone else up, and not needing to feel I needed to chat.
I sat at the edge of the path where it looked safe from poisonous trees, while Michael and Keith walked closer to the tree line to see what they could see.
Photo by Ashim D’Silva
Soon Keith came back and said, “It looks like an elongated cenote, but with no water that I could tell. More like a wide fissure. Since we’re up a bit higher than it is, I could see Bartolo’s white shirt on the far side, and Abi’s red one closer to the path. I couldn’t see Roberto, though, as he was likely going around to the left to get a better look at the cave, which would be below him, but with denser cover, and he can get a better angle for looking without being seen. At least that’s my guess.”
I thanked him for the report and asked him to help me up. We walked together to meet with Michael and watched for any kind of activity. Nothing was moving.
Soon we saw Bartolo waving a long stick when he spotted us across from his location. He could barely be seen behind the brush.
“It looks like he made a spear,” Keith whispered. “That’ll help.”
“These Mayans are sure gifted and skilled,” I whispered back. “Guess they’re used to fending for themselves, and making do, rather than running to the nearest weapon or supply store for their needs.”
The other two chuckled. “You’re right about that,” Michael said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t know what I’d do without Home Depot or a Sporting Goods Store. These guys are amazing.”
We spotted Roberto, but we also spotted movement from the cave. The Chicleros had started to stir.
Will Lola be rescued? Click to read Part Three of this story series NOW!
If you missed Part One, go back and read it HERE.