The Mythical City

Chapter 3.1

Upon reaching the room, Teresa asked permission to use the hotel phone to communicate with her family.

“They haven´t received news from me in several days and must be anxious.”

“Hola! It´s Teresa” no answer came on the other side, although loud voices could be heard in the background. Marcelo guessed those were relief cries of family members to hear the voice of the young woman after a period of uncertainty.

“Yes, I'm well... I was assaulted and kidn*pped by armed people, for several hours...No, outside the scare nothing happened to me, but I have run out of money, documents or credit cards. In addition I lost all my camp gear and the clothes I am using are tattered and dirty.”

The conversation lasted a while yet, during which Marcelo went out to the hall to allow a bit of privacy for the woman. When he heard running water of the shower, he decided to go down to the lobby and read some newspapers. None made mention of the disappearance of Teresa. He returned to the room a half-hour later, hit the door with the knuckles, and inside Teresa replied that he could come in.

Entering he saw the girl with a towel knotted around his body, his hair was wet and the curves of her body could be guessed under the cloth. Marcelo could not avoid a fleeting erection.

 “No need. In the archaeological expeditions we not always have privacy. I'm used to moving in the midst of men and women without false modesty while maintaining decorum.”

“And what was the reaction of your family?”Marcelo changed the subject.

“They were very nervous. Apparently some farmers found my camp looted and stirred, and gave alert the authorities. As I had some college papers, they were able to identify me as the camper, and called my family. I spoke with my grandfather; he will send his driver for me tomorrow morning.”

“How long will it take him driving from Mexico DF?”

“He is not going to come by car, but in a private plane” when she saw the expression of surprise in the man´s face she added with a smile not without pride “My grandfather is a man of many resources, even though the plane is not his.”

Teresa approached one of the beds, where she had left her clothes before taking a shower. Indeed, they was a shirt and pants, both made out of rustic fabric, full of tears and dirt when she was thrown from the truck to the ground, and by wandering through the jungle for about six hours according to her calculations. She shook the shirt in order to remove dust and with the vigorous gesture unwillingly opened the towel that surrounded her torso, exposing briefly her breasts, abdomen and back. The young woman quickly wrapped up again the towel while she blushed. Marcelo suddenly stood up like a spring and for an instant existed between both a current of attraction that they were barely able to master. Without adding anything, Teresa returned to the bathroom with her clothes in hand, leaving the man free alone with his fantasies.

That night Marcelo invited her to dinner in a typical cantina not very far from the hotel, where both tested all kinds of Mexican dishes selected by the female, sprayed by several Margaritas. Marcelo could barely discern if the fire was in his mouth, throat or stomach, and if it was due to alcohol or tacos.

As they returned to the hotel Teresa began to sing boleros and some Mexican melodies, accompanied by the man, who barely knew some parts of the lyrics. Marcelo placed his left arm around the waist of the girl, who willingly accepted the gesture. As they were approaching their destination, the songs ceased while he constricted his embrace bringing both bodies closer, until their hips touched. In front of a public square, Teresa pointed a full moon that stood as a giant coin above the tops of the trees. There they remained in silence, enjoying a few moments in silence in the warm breeze.

They went the staircase up to the top floor, always keeping the silence. When entering the room their bodies touched unintentionally. The man shut the door, took Teresa´s face between his hands and kissed her on the mouth. The woman gently hugged him. When he checked her favorable reaction, Marcelo started passionately caressing her. Each one began to unbutton the clothes of the other, and the contact of flesh over flesh unleashed long repressed hormones. Marcelo removed her shirt with certain brusqueness, kissed her erect n*****s and sank his face between her perky breasts. Then he descended patting kissing her belly, as he got his hands inside her pants and panties, caressing her buttocks. Finally they fell on one of the beds and proceeded to take off the rest of the clothes. Marcelo kissed her thighs focusing on their inner side; Teresa began to moan and grabbed his head between her legs.

Fiercely, they joined with a mixture of joy and pain to achieve together a vigorous and liberating o****m. Only then they realized that despite the air conditioning they were soaked in sweat. The anticlimax lasted several minutes, after which they re”-launched the caresses, now with less heartburn and more pleasure, recognizing their bodies with delicacy and thoroughness. That night they joined several times, ending fully exhausted and asleep in the pleasant climate of the room.

Despite his tiredness Marcelo woke up startled. He opened his eyes in the midst of the darkness of the room, the air conditioning was still running silently, and the man wondered about the origin of the sound that had awakened him. After a while without further news, the sleep again invaded him and he was already yielding to it, when he clearly heard strange words, and this time he could clearly discern the source. Teresa, lying completely asleep by his side, pronounced isolated words in an unknown language. Somewhat restless, Marcelo paid attention to understand the terms to ask its meaning to the woman when she was awake. At last he could understand diffusely two words, which he sought to remember. The girl shook and turned her head to left and right; for her gesture, it was clear that she was going through a nightmare, so Marcelo decided to shake her slightly, taking her by the shoulders. Teresa gave a sigh, her frown distended; she then turned towards her right side and went on sleeping, this time calmly.

Marcelo decided narrating the episode to his partner the next day, and asked her to explain also the premonition she had on the road, when she anticipated the approximation of trucks with armed militiamen. Finally, and despite the concern triggered by the incident, he fell asleep again.

Teresa woke up by some soft blows given to the door of the room; when she sat on the bed saw Marcelo opening the door to a waitress who entered carrying a tray with breakfast for both. They took the collation quietly in bed, and after that, the woman rested her head on his shoulder, closed his eyes with a pleasant expression on his face.

Marcelo let it stay for a while, after which he whispered in her ear:

“When you feel ready to talk, I would like to ask you some questions.”

Somewhat surprised, Teresa replied immediately:

“Of course, whenever you want.”

“You remember when you alerted me about the presence of the militia on the trail, I wonder how was it that you knew…” he left the sentence unfinished not knowing how to end it.

Teresa delayed her answer; she was debating with herself if she had the degree of familiarity with the man to confide very intimate issues. Finally she decided that after the shared night, she could open to him certain facets of her life.

“I happen to have certain psychic powers for anticipation. It is a... don't know if called gift or a load that... runs on my mother's family, and carriers of this gift are precisely some women of the clan, not all.” She then narrated him how she had found the object submerged in the cenote after one of her intuitions “I believe that the men we saw along the way were related to my captors. That would explain that I have associated the intuition on their proximity to danger.”

Marcelo remained silent; the answer, although unconventional, somehow was satisfactory and consistent with the facts he had witnessed.

“On the other hand, last night you had a very restless sleep; talking "in tongues"” he said using the biblical verbal image.

“What do you mean” in tongues?”

“Using a language incomprehensible for me, only I could retain some words or names.”

“And what were those words?”

“Something like: Shchil and Ushmal.”

The girl had a chill, she remained silent a moment and said:

“Xchil and Uxmal.”

“Then they do make some sense? What do they mean?”

Teresa hesitated a moment, then, resigned, tried to explain something not even she understood.

“It is about some recurring dreams that I have, and up to the point I can understand, are related to my ancestors. One of them, who supposedly introduced in my family the power of prescience was a Mayan Princess of classical times called Xchil, who would have lived in a town called Dzibilchaltun, permanent rival from the great imperial center of the time, Uxmal. I guess that those two words are those that you have heard.”

“So you have Royal blood? Asked rather sarcastically Marcelo, who repented immediately to make jokes with something that for Teresa was obviously real “Sorry, I didn't want to sound irreverent.”

“No problem, I myself do not take it seriously, at least not entirely. Particularly having in account that the Princess is only part of the story.”

“And who else is in the history?”

“Her husband, who, in my dreams, is a kind of... god” the last word came out with difficulty from the girl´s throat “ I know, it sounds as absolute nonsense, but I cannot rid myself of these ideas, and they are linked with the prescience, that is very real.”

At that time someone called again at the door of the room. Marcelo authorized entry to the Concierge, who announced that a certain Mr. Guerrero was looking or Miss Cifuentes at the lobby.

“It is my father´s driver” said Teresa, rising from the bed of a jump. “Come with me. I want to introduce him to you.”

Marcelo accompanied Teresa and Guerrero; who turned out to be an impressive fellow, without a doubt not only the driver but also bodyguards, as well as owner of a very Mexican friendliness.

The woman was preparing to climb to the private flight that would her take back to Mexico DF. The young couple held their hands together.

“And what about our thing, does it end here?” asked she in a helpless voice.

“I hope not, I will go to look for you as soon arrange some things both personal and working in Buenos Aires. Meanwhile we will remain in contact by email and through Skype.” His firm and sincere tone convinced the girl, who simply turned and went to the plane without looking back, so that her tearful face would be hidden.

In mid-flight, despite her efforts Teresa could not keep out of her mind everything that had recently happened. She realized that she was in love for the first time in her life, and didn't want to delve further in those thoughts, to avoid that their dreams would wither when coming into contact with reality. She also thought that she should cut her relationship with Magnus McPherson, which was admittedly empty and formal. Only new love experience allowed her to analyze her previous life in a new light.