that meant it was very deep. This is no ordinary river. We’re in Mictlan now. It might go on forever.
As if reading his mind Xolotl growled a warning. “Don’t let go of me, not for a second. There’s no retrieving you if you fall. The depths of Chignahuapan are a dark corner of the universe that not even I dare explore.”
“Do you always swim people across?”
“People, never. You’re the only living humans to ever set foot in this place. I’ve ferried gods across, however, and a soul or two. The souls that once traveled this path to Beyond were buried with dogs, and the shades of those loyal beasts would bear their masters across. But those days are long past.”
The hellhound plunged into the inky waters, its legs pedaling beneath them. The light currents tugged coldly at the twins’ calves. Carol’s teeth chattered. Like mom, she can’t stand the cold. An image flashed through his mind: his mother, wrapped in a blanket, sitting at her worktable at 2am. The memory made his chest ache, but there was nothing much to distract him. Above them the gray sky stretched on forever, and on all sides the black waters steadily flowed. The twins and their guide advanced quickly, but the river seemed endless. That got Johnny thinking about the geography of the Underworld.
“So, Xolotl. What would’ve happened if we had, I don’t know, decided not to cross the river? If we just started walking along that black sand?”
“You would eventually circle back to where you started. Several years from now.”
“What about crossing back through the, uh, curtain?”
“You would be as lost as if you had tied a stone round your neck and dropped into the river. Like most hells, Mictlan is circular. The only way out is to head toward the center.”
Carol shivered violently. “Wait, ‘most hells’? You mean there’s more than one?”
“Yes, Carolina. But let’s focus on this one, shall we?”
What felt like hours passed in relative silence, empty except for the splashing of water and Carol’s steady breathing. But the quiet wasn’t so bad. It was the sitting still that was driving Johnny crazy. He hated having nothing to do. Like Mom , he mused. We both have to be active or we get antsy. Dad used to say we suffered from ADHD.
He was about to make some sort of clever quip when something grabbed his foot and pulled .
“Uh, Xolotl? There’s something under…”
It came again. This time, Johnny almost lost his balance. Carol twisted around, her eyes wide. “Put your arms around my waist!”
“What? No! I’ve got a good…”
A violent tug pulled his sneaker from his left foot.
“What the…Something just stole my damn tennis shoe!”
“Johnny, put your arms around me, now!”
An old anger rushed up within him. “Don’t tell me what to do, Carol. You’re not my mom. You’re not older than me. I don’t have to listen to…”
Now he felt the slimy thing curl around his foot, tightening like a noose. He tried to kick himself free.
“Crap! It’s got me!”
“ ¡Juan Ángel Garza ,” Carol shouted, “ que me abraces ya! ”
Grumbling but afraid, he did as Carol said, conditioned by years of his mother’s shouted commands in Spanish. She leaned forward and wrapped her own arms tightly about Xolotl’s neck. “Uh, if it’s not too much to ask, could you swim faster, please? ”
Snarling at some bone-white coils that broke the water beside them, the hellhound began to churn the water in earnest. The grip on Johnny’s foot was nearly unbearable.
“It won’t let go!”
One of the milky tentacles came closer, and Xolotl snapped its jaws on the creature, shaking it mercilessly. Johnny’s foot was released.
“Okay, I’m okay!”
Xolotl, perhaps drawing on deep reserves of energy, began to rocket across the water. The far shoreline was now visible, a broken horizon of jagged rock. After a few minutes of sustained speed, the hellhound slowed. Carol’s death grip on the beast’s neck
As if reading his mind Xolotl growled a warning. “Don’t let go of me, not for a second. There’s no retrieving you if you fall. The depths of Chignahuapan are a dark corner of the universe that not even I dare explore.”
“Do you always swim people across?”
“People, never. You’re the only living humans to ever set foot in this place. I’ve ferried gods across, however, and a soul or two. The souls that once traveled this path to Beyond were buried with dogs, and the shades of those loyal beasts would bear their masters across. But those days are long past.”
The hellhound plunged into the inky waters, its legs pedaling beneath them. The light currents tugged coldly at the twins’ calves. Carol’s teeth chattered. Like mom, she can’t stand the cold. An image flashed through his mind: his mother, wrapped in a blanket, sitting at her worktable at 2am. The memory made his chest ache, but there was nothing much to distract him. Above them the gray sky stretched on forever, and on all sides the black waters steadily flowed. The twins and their guide advanced quickly, but the river seemed endless. That got Johnny thinking about the geography of the Underworld.
“So, Xolotl. What would’ve happened if we had, I don’t know, decided not to cross the river? If we just started walking along that black sand?”
“You would eventually circle back to where you started. Several years from now.”
“What about crossing back through the, uh, curtain?”
“You would be as lost as if you had tied a stone round your neck and dropped into the river. Like most hells, Mictlan is circular. The only way out is to head toward the center.”
Carol shivered violently. “Wait, ‘most hells’? You mean there’s more than one?”
“Yes, Carolina. But let’s focus on this one, shall we?”
What felt like hours passed in relative silence, empty except for the splashing of water and Carol’s steady breathing. But the quiet wasn’t so bad. It was the sitting still that was driving Johnny crazy. He hated having nothing to do. Like Mom , he mused. We both have to be active or we get antsy. Dad used to say we suffered from ADHD.
He was about to make some sort of clever quip when something grabbed his foot and pulled .
“Uh, Xolotl? There’s something under…”
It came again. This time, Johnny almost lost his balance. Carol twisted around, her eyes wide. “Put your arms around my waist!”
“What? No! I’ve got a good…”
A violent tug pulled his sneaker from his left foot.
“What the…Something just stole my damn tennis shoe!”
“Johnny, put your arms around me, now!”
An old anger rushed up within him. “Don’t tell me what to do, Carol. You’re not my mom. You’re not older than me. I don’t have to listen to…”
Now he felt the slimy thing curl around his foot, tightening like a noose. He tried to kick himself free.
“Crap! It’s got me!”
“ ¡Juan Ángel Garza ,” Carol shouted, “ que me abraces ya! ”
Grumbling but afraid, he did as Carol said, conditioned by years of his mother’s shouted commands in Spanish. She leaned forward and wrapped her own arms tightly about Xolotl’s neck. “Uh, if it’s not too much to ask, could you swim faster, please? ”
Snarling at some bone-white coils that broke the water beside them, the hellhound began to churn the water in earnest. The grip on Johnny’s foot was nearly unbearable.
“It won’t let go!”
One of the milky tentacles came closer, and Xolotl snapped its jaws on the creature, shaking it mercilessly. Johnny’s foot was released.
“Okay, I’m okay!”
Xolotl, perhaps drawing on deep reserves of energy, began to rocket across the water. The far shoreline was now visible, a broken horizon of jagged rock. After a few minutes of sustained speed, the hellhound slowed. Carol’s death grip on the beast’s neck
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