Solimar, p.10
Solimar, page 10
As the raft rocked wildly, side to side, Berto slipped and fell into the river.
“Berto!” she screamed.
“Don’t let gooo…” yelled Berto, his voice fading behind her.
Water crashed over La Magdalena. It remained buoyant but began to spin in the angry river. Solimar tightened her grip on the straps. “Don’t let go. Don’t let go,” she repeated.
Ahead, the confluence spread before her. She bounced through the wide breadth of churning water but couldn’t maneuver the raft to the left. In the distance on the right, the winglike spray from El Salto de Los Ángeles loomed.
The raft ricocheted off one boulder, then another, thudding and creaking. Solimar’s mind raced with visions of the logs splintering apart and her falling to a watery death.
A river swell lifted La Magdalena, and Solimar leaned as far to the left as she could, hoping to divert it. The wave shot the raft toward the bank. Solimar closed her eyes and braced for the impact. The bump almost threw her off. Trembling, she sat up to find La Magdalena lodged in a sandbar near the entrance to the caves.
Heart pounding, she scrambled to the edge of the raft and jumped into the shallow water. After tugging the raft over the sandbar, and just far enough into the tunnel that it couldn’t be seen from the river, she tied it to a rock.
Stumbling back to the opening, she looked upstream, searching. She cupped her hands over her mouth and yelled, “Berto! Zarita! Lázaro!” When there was no answer, panic gripped her. Had they gone past her and over the falls? She called again and again, her voice desperate as she ran upstream along the narrow bank. She stopped. Had she heard something? Or was it just the rushing water? She shaded her eyes to search the river.
Lázaro appeared above her, whistling, flapping his wings, and gesturing toward the river. “Lázaro! Did they…are they…?”
“Land, ho!” Berto, buoyed by his life jacket, floated toward her, leaning back, toes up, pushing off rocks, just like he’d instructed her earlier. As he drifted closer, he raised one arm. He held Zarita in his hand!
Relieved, Solimar ran into the water and dragged Berto ashore. “Are you all right?”
Wobbly, he sat up. “I think so. Just a few hundred bruises.”
“Lázaro and Berto are my heroes,” said Zarita. “I fell in and was drenched through. I sank like a rock. It was green and murky and toady at the bottom. Then this hand seemed to come from nowhere—”
“Lázaro pointed the way,” said Berto. “And she was only in a foot of clear water, practically on the surface. I could easily see those bright loopy things on her head, so of course I scooped her up.”
“My ribbons,” said Zarita. “Another reason to always wear them. And from now on, I’ll need my own personal floatation device.”
Berto smiled. “I think we can arrange that.” He tried to stand but quickly dropped to his knees.
Solimar pulled one of his arms across her shoulders and gripped his waist. “Come on. Let’s get into the caves before the guards catch up to us.”
As they stumbled toward the entrance, Berto looked around the beach. “La Magdalena? Did she make it?”
“She’s just inside. The dry bag is still attached, but the crates are smashed, save one, and the lashings came undone, so we lost the umbrella and all but one paddle. But if we tighten the loose ropes…” She shrugged.
Berto sighed and smiled. “I can fix that.”
Solimar waded in knee-deep water, farther and farther into the caves. With a long rope, she pulled La Magdalena behind her.
Berto sat in the middle of the raft, steering with the paddle to keep them away from the walls. Lázaro leaned out and over the bow, as still as a figurehead, watching for danger.
Zarita hadn’t left Berto’s shadow since he’d saved her from the river. She was pressed to his side and now sported the life jacket he’d made from a bandanna and tufts of kapok from his own vest.
The light from the outside world still illuminated the long tunnel, its rock walls curving in and out like the deep folds of draperies. The water was a chameleon, changing from turquoise to blue to green.
“The water is so clear,” said Solimar. “Like a crystal. I can see every grain of sand on the bottom.”
Berto nodded. “Not much action inside the caves to muddy the waters.”
As the tunnel widened, the water grew deeper. Solimar hoisted herself onto the raft. Lázaro settled on her shoulder.
Slowly, Berto paddled across the vast chamber.
Stalagmites rose from the cave floor, tapering like candles. Stalactites hung from the ceiling. The dripstones and spires met in some spots, creating twisted columns of mineral deposits. Where water had continually rushed down the walls and over rocks, minerals had built up, forming flowstones the color of cream.
“They look like waterfalls frozen in mid-descent,” said Berto.
“Or the petrified fringe of a rebozo,” said Solimar.
Berto stopped the raft in front of two tunnels, each veering in opposite directions.
Berto took a deep breath. “The first turn. A hard right.”
Distant shouts echoed. “Hello! We know you’re in there. Turn back! There’s no way out! We’re guarding the mouth. Call out and we’ll help you!”
“Guards at the entrance,” whispered Berto.
“It’s a trick,” murmured Solimar. “They won’t help us. We can’t turn back.”
Berto nodded. “Wouldn’t consider it. With any luck, they’ll be too afraid to follow.” He held a finger to his lips. “Shh. Until we get farther away. Sound carries far.”
He pivoted La Magdalena toward the tunnel on the right. As they drifted forward, the light faded. Ominous shadows danced on the stone walls. Wind droned through the hollow passageway.
Berto kept his voice low and soft. “The wind is a good sign. And it’s blowing in our face, which means it’s coming from somewhere outside.”
The raft scraped against something underwater and stopped.
“What happened?” asked Solimar.
“We’re stuck on a submerged ledge.” Berto pushed off the walls until they were clear. The raft crawled forward.
“Can’t we go any faster?” whispered Solimar.
“Too many boulders beneath. I can’t see where they are.”
Their progress slowed. When the raft lodged on another rock, it screeched and rasped as if it might split apart.
The guards’ voices reverberated in the chambers. “You’re in danger! Turn around now! Call out and we’ll save you.”
Solimar scoffed. “They’ll say anything to capture us.”
“Their voices do not sound sincere,” whispered Zarita.
Berto pushed off the rock. Another loud creak echoed, but the guards stopped calling to them. Were they following?
The water deepened, and they floated forward until they came to a second divide in the labyrinth. Berto stopped the raft as they considered the two shadowy tunnels. “A hard right, then look for a flash of light,” said Berto.
They sat and stared into one tunnel, then the other.
Solimar saw a brightening. Then darkness again. She pointed to the left. Under her breath she said, “I think I saw something.”
Berto leaned forward. “Where?”
Had she imagined it? She looked into the same opening and saw a flash, like lightening. “Yes, this way,” she insisted.
La Magdalena glided into the blackness.
The dark pressed in upon them. Solimar could not see her hand in front of her face. The raft bumped against the rock walls.
Lázaro peeped nervously and pressed against Solimar, trembling.
“In case anybody is wondering,” said Zarita, “I’m officially frightened.”
“Shh. It’s okay,” whispered Solimar, hoping it was true. Was Berto’s father right about the directions? A hard right. A flash of light…What if he wasn’t?
Ahead, like a beacon in a dark sea, intermittent light flickered.
“I see it.” Berto stroked forward with purpose.
Slowly, shadows and dim light appeared again. The wind calmed.
Berto pointed up. “Look.”
Far above, a flock of small birds flitted near a tiny gap in the rock ceiling, revealing a speck of blue sky.
“We’re going the right way,” whispered Berto.
“Thanks to your father,” said Solimar.
Berto smiled. “So far, so good.”
One chamber led to another. The morning wore on. They heard nothing more from the guards but were still skittish. Every sound was amplified in the caves and startled them—water dripping, the wind whooshing, a pebble falling and splashing into the water.
Time became as fluid as the river. How long had they been inside the labyrinth? Solimar wasn’t sure.
They passed through more narrow passageways until they sat in a cavern facing three dark tunnels. From a crack in the rocks far above, a blade of sun pierced the water.
“Follow your voice,” said Berto. “This is where my father had to turn around and go back.” He took a deep breath. “We can’t call out. The sound will travel. The guards will think we’re yelling for help, and an echo might lead them straight to us.”
Solimar closed her eyes. You have something special deep inside of you. The butterflies recognized it, or they wouldn’t have trusted you with their magic. Use it. “Move me into the sunbeam and ask me about the tunnels.”
Berto locked eyes with her. “Are you sure?”
“Yes. But ask nothing more.”
Berto maneuvered the raft until Solimar was positioned beneath the stream of light.
She nodded to Berto.
Berto took a deep breath. “Solimar, where will these three tunnels lead us?”
The words raced. “The tunnel on the right is navigable, but there is no through passage. The water is stagnant and the air is foul-smelling. The one in the middle has a rock ceiling that eventually becomes so low that the only way to pass is by swimming beneath it, underwater. The tunnel on the left leads to a long corridor and a bat-filled chamber.”
“Bat-filled,” whispered Berto. “They would need a way in and out. That’s the one.”
Solimar closed her eyes for a moment and said a silent thank-you to the butterflies, along with a promise of sunshine.
Eager, Berto dragged the paddle and entered the tunnel, carefully maneuvering around jutting rocks. They inched forward.
Lázaro moaned and chattered.
“He wants to know if we are there yet,” said Zarita. “He feels as if we’ve been in these caves forever. He wants to know what day this is. And he’s hungry.”
“I feel the same, Lázaro,” said Berto. “But it’s still the same day.”
“It must be late afternoon by now,” said Solimar.
“There!” Zarita pointed to an arched opening ahead. “Now we’re making progress!”
Berto paddled the raft into a large, dim chamber surrounded by boulders and rock formations. Above, thousands of Mexican free-tailed bats clung to the walls. Water trickled down the rock faces.
“It’s a dead end. There are no tunnels or corridors that I can see,” said Berto. “So how do the bats get outside?”
As he moved the raft slowly around the entire perimeter, Solimar untied the dry bag, retrieved the binoculars, and scanned the room. There was a natural progression of boulders that led to a plateau above them. “Move toward the rocks so I can reach them.”
Berto edged the raft close enough for her to climb off and wade to the low boulders. “What are you thinking?”
She tossed him the binoculars, put her hands on her hips, and gave a nod toward the ceiling.
He held them to his eyes. “The way out is up?”
She nodded. “It makes sense.”
“I’ll hide the raft the best I can. If the guards are ever brave enough to venture this far, hopefully they’ll turn around and go back if they think there’s no way out.” He tucked the binoculars beneath his vest. “Guess we’ll have to say good-bye to La Magdalena for the time being.” He patted the raft.
“We’ll come back for her. I promise,” said Solimar.
After Berto pulled the raft into an alcove, Solimar led the way. At the top, they sidled around an opening in the rock wall into a short tunnel. Before they emerged on the other side, cool air hit them.
They stepped out onto a ledge and found themselves in a massive, cathedral-like room. Threads of daylight filtered from somewhere above.
“How high up are we?” asked Solimar.
“At least ten stories,” said Berto.
“Look,” said Solimar, pointing to a natural rockslide slick with water and curving down and away to somewhere far below. “It’s smooth as glass.”
“Thousands of years of water will do that,” he said. “It’s a natural flume.”
“Berto, that’s it. A boat-less choice.”
Lázaro waved his wings and made an emphatic guttural sound.
“In case you didn’t get that,” said Zarita, “he said no. Absolutely not. It’s out of the question. Don’t even think about it.”
“We have no other option,” said Berto. “Besides, I don’t want to spend the night in here. So it’s either down the slide or go back the way we came and run into the guards.” He grabbed Solimar’s hands. “Everything has been exactly as my father said.”
Solimar set her mouth and nodded.
Lázaro walked to the edge of the slide and looked down the chute. He backed away, clacking and squawking.
“We know it’s against your better judgment,” said Zarita. “But if we fall, you have wings and can fly. And I’m a cloth doll wearing a cushy flotation device. We need to go first and try out the chute to make sure it’s not dangerous.” She turned to Solimar and Berto. “If it’s safe, we’ll…whistle! If it’s not, Lázaro will fly back to alert you.”
Lázaro looked toward the slide and groaned.
“Come on. Let’s turn worry into excitement!” said Zarita.
Sitting side by side, they disappeared over the ledge. Zarita squealed, her voice fading away, “This is fuuun.…”
Solimar and Berto leaned forward and listened.
Minutes passed.
“What could have happened to them?” asked Berto. He blew out a long breath. “What if Lázaro doesn’t return and we hear nothing?”
“We’ll hear from them,” said Solimar. “I feel it.”
Water trickled.
Wings fluttered nearby.
A bat screeched.
Two distinctive and familiar whistles echoed through the chamber.
“Finally!” said Solimar.
Berto laughed. “That’s our cue!”
Solimar sat at the opening. Berto sat right behind her, with his legs straddling hers, and wrapped his arms around her waist. “Cross your arms over your chest, lean back against me, and point your feet forward. If we start going too fast, press your feet toward the sides of the chute to help slow us down. Got it?”
She took a deep breath and nodded.
He pushed off and Solimar leaned back. Air whooshed around them. The flume twisted and turned, but the smooth rock sides kept them contained. They slid faster and faster.
Berto whooped, but Solimar was too scared to utter a word. She wanted it to be over and to know that they were all safe.
They flew into a dark tunnel. The speed and fear took her breath away! She pressed her feet outward to slow down, but it wasn’t enough. They slid up one side of the flume and then the other, almost flipping over. They were traveling too fast!
“I can’t see!” she yelled. Panic smothered her.
Berto held her tighter until they passed into a cavern as bright and blue as a cloudless sky.
The flume curved, and she saw what was coming—a long slide into a steep drop to the water far below.
Berto yelled, “We can’t hit the water together. You first!” He shoved her forward. “Lie down!”
She leaned back as far as she could and jetted down the chute. Her stomach turned. Her heart raced.
Solimar squeezed her eyes closed, too frightened to even scream…and the world fell away.
Solimar plummeted into a deep lagoon.
Underwater, she pushed off the sandy bottom to catapult herself upward. When she broke through the water and bobbed on the surface, Lázaro and Zarita cheered from the narrow shore.
Somewhere behind her, Berto yelled, “Incoming!”
Solimar dove out of the way.
Berto splashed down and popped up, spewing a stream of water. “Everyone okay? Everyone good? All arms and legs accounted for?” He scanned the grotto. “Whoa…look at this place.”
The cavern was an iridescent jewel. The water, sand, and the rock walls glimmered aquamarine. The shadows—dark azure and indigo.
“A sapphire room…” he murmured.
“And look,” said Solimar, pointing to the far end of the cavern, where an arched passageway led to the outside world. The incoming light created a narrow runway to the middle of the lagoon. “Bright of day. We made it. Think of what this means…a throughway to the port!”
Even though Berto was already wet, Solimar could see tears in his eyes. He nodded. “It could work. Put the goods on a boat, light and map the caves. Then figure out a way to get the goods to the top of the cathedral room. Maybe with a track and crank system, then longer flumes that zigzag in a gradual descent…but it can be done.” Berto brushed at his face. “My father was right!” He smiled. “I knew it.”
They swam to the sand and removed their life vests.
Lázaro flew ahead.
Solimar helped Zarita out of the tiny one Berto had made, then slipped the doll into her pocket. As she traipsed alongside Berto toward the opening, Solimar’s clothes clung to her and dripped. She wrung out the hem of her trousers and blouse the best she could and patted the rebozo wrapped around her waist.
Lázaro let out a panicked whistle.
“I’ll tell her,” said Zarita. “Solimar, sunshine ahead.”
At the entrance, Solimar stopped at the edge of the shade. She grabbed Berto’s arm. “Lázaro is right. The sun is still up. We could encounter anyone along the way. If I’m in the sun, and if someone simply asks me who I am or what brings me here, I’ll blurt out everything.”
