“What time is it?”
“Six-twenty. We are nearly there. Besides the delay from the fog, I had to pull over in the night because of the rain. So I went to sleep. It is why we did not get here sooner.”
“Tell me how that TV screen up there works.”
Manuel laughed. “I am no technician. I cannot even tell you why a lamp comes on when I stick the plug into a socket.”
Fair enough. Ian couldn’t explain it, either. “Then tell me about the
brujos.”
Manuel pressed the heels of his hands against the steering wheel. “That is a difficult question.”
“Give me a simple answer.”
“Lost souls. That’s what the
brujos
are.”
Lost souls. Fine. But was he speaking in a religious sense? Metaphorically? And what did he mean by “soul,” anyway? Before Ian could ask, the bus drew up in front of a huge metal gate with a high concrete wall shooting off on either side of it and disappearing into the fog. Manuel flipped a switch on the dashboard and the gate swung open, creaking noisily.
Manuel drove through and continued along a narrow, twisted dirt road lined by the oddest-looking trees. They looked like a cheerleader’s pom-poms, tufts of green sprouting from the branches in uneven clusters. “Those are monkey-puzzle trees.” Manuel pointed off to the right. “And over there, through the opening in the fog, see the alpacas?”
A group of them grazed in the dawn light, beautiful creatures with long legs and necks, short tails and small heads, most of them perhaps three feet tall. Interspersed among them were their llama cousins, who looked nearly identical except that they were taller and weighed more.
“Do you have alpacas or llamas where you live, señor?”
Ian laughed. Alpacas and llamas in Minneapolis? “Nope. Are they friendly?”
“They can be shy, but they love people. Here in Esperanza, they supply wool and are used to carry heavy loads. The alpaca wool is the best, soft, like cashmere.”
“Can we take a closer look at them?” Tess asked, joining them.
Ian noticed that her request surprised Manuel. “You do not want to go first to your hotel? To rest until later?”
“The hotel sounds great, Manuel, but I’d like to stretch my legs first,” Tess said.
“Me, too,” Ian agreed. Nomad barked and trotted up behind them, slipped past Ian and stopped in front of the door, tail thumping against the floor of the bus.
“The majority wins, eh?” Manuel stopped the bus, opened the door. The dog bounded off first, with Tess and Ian close behind him.
The fog swirled across the damp ground, twisting vinelike around their legs. But it burned off quickly as the sun pushed higher into the sky. Ian now had a clear view of the alpacas and llamas in the distance. Their heads seemed to swivel around, mouths chewing patiently, and although they gazed curiously toward the humans, they didn’t move any closer. Ian and Tess made their way toward the creatures, Nomad trotting alongside, Manuel hanging back, calling, “Please, my friends, do not go too far.”
Ian raised his arm, indicating they heard him, but he and Tess kept inching closer until maybe eight yards separated them from the animals. “They’re beautiful,” Tess breathed. “Their eyes are huge.”
The sun broke through the fog, showering the alpacas and llamas in a soft, celestial light that tinged their fur a reddish gold. Spellbound, Ian wished he had a camera. Then the fog closed in again, rolling toward the animals on every side, thickening, rising. Something spooked them and they turned in unison, like dancers in some choreographed ballet, and tore off across the grass, headed for the far trees.
At the same moment, Nomad started barking fiercely, the fog rolled toward them faster and faster, every hair on Ian’s body stood on end. Nomad suddenly sprang at him, knocking him back.
“Hey, what the hell is wrong with you, Nomad?” Ian snapped.
The dog barked again and dashed off into the fog. “I think he wants us to follow
“Six-twenty. We are nearly there. Besides the delay from the fog, I had to pull over in the night because of the rain. So I went to sleep. It is why we did not get here sooner.”
“Tell me how that TV screen up there works.”
Manuel laughed. “I am no technician. I cannot even tell you why a lamp comes on when I stick the plug into a socket.”
Fair enough. Ian couldn’t explain it, either. “Then tell me about the
brujos.”
Manuel pressed the heels of his hands against the steering wheel. “That is a difficult question.”
“Give me a simple answer.”
“Lost souls. That’s what the
brujos
are.”
Lost souls. Fine. But was he speaking in a religious sense? Metaphorically? And what did he mean by “soul,” anyway? Before Ian could ask, the bus drew up in front of a huge metal gate with a high concrete wall shooting off on either side of it and disappearing into the fog. Manuel flipped a switch on the dashboard and the gate swung open, creaking noisily.
Manuel drove through and continued along a narrow, twisted dirt road lined by the oddest-looking trees. They looked like a cheerleader’s pom-poms, tufts of green sprouting from the branches in uneven clusters. “Those are monkey-puzzle trees.” Manuel pointed off to the right. “And over there, through the opening in the fog, see the alpacas?”
A group of them grazed in the dawn light, beautiful creatures with long legs and necks, short tails and small heads, most of them perhaps three feet tall. Interspersed among them were their llama cousins, who looked nearly identical except that they were taller and weighed more.
“Do you have alpacas or llamas where you live, señor?”
Ian laughed. Alpacas and llamas in Minneapolis? “Nope. Are they friendly?”
“They can be shy, but they love people. Here in Esperanza, they supply wool and are used to carry heavy loads. The alpaca wool is the best, soft, like cashmere.”
“Can we take a closer look at them?” Tess asked, joining them.
Ian noticed that her request surprised Manuel. “You do not want to go first to your hotel? To rest until later?”
“The hotel sounds great, Manuel, but I’d like to stretch my legs first,” Tess said.
“Me, too,” Ian agreed. Nomad barked and trotted up behind them, slipped past Ian and stopped in front of the door, tail thumping against the floor of the bus.
“The majority wins, eh?” Manuel stopped the bus, opened the door. The dog bounded off first, with Tess and Ian close behind him.
The fog swirled across the damp ground, twisting vinelike around their legs. But it burned off quickly as the sun pushed higher into the sky. Ian now had a clear view of the alpacas and llamas in the distance. Their heads seemed to swivel around, mouths chewing patiently, and although they gazed curiously toward the humans, they didn’t move any closer. Ian and Tess made their way toward the creatures, Nomad trotting alongside, Manuel hanging back, calling, “Please, my friends, do not go too far.”
Ian raised his arm, indicating they heard him, but he and Tess kept inching closer until maybe eight yards separated them from the animals. “They’re beautiful,” Tess breathed. “Their eyes are huge.”
The sun broke through the fog, showering the alpacas and llamas in a soft, celestial light that tinged their fur a reddish gold. Spellbound, Ian wished he had a camera. Then the fog closed in again, rolling toward the animals on every side, thickening, rising. Something spooked them and they turned in unison, like dancers in some choreographed ballet, and tore off across the grass, headed for the far trees.
At the same moment, Nomad started barking fiercely, the fog rolled toward them faster and faster, every hair on Ian’s body stood on end. Nomad suddenly sprang at him, knocking him back.
“Hey, what the hell is wrong with you, Nomad?” Ian snapped.
The dog barked again and dashed off into the fog. “I think he wants us to follow
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