Jungle Crossing Read Online Free PDF Page B

lungs, causing some sort of irreparable damage.
    "Corn is my favorite vegetable," Barb said. "Now the story.
Por favor.
"
    "Many hundreds of years ago, during a booming thunderstorm, a baby was born to a wealthy elite family in Cob´. The priests named the baby Muluc, after the thunder and rain, because it was a strong name and it was good to please the water gods. Her name was the same as the day she was born; the Mayans had names for every day. We have Sunday, Monday, Tuesday ... but they had twenty day names representing different gods, elements, or animals, like rain, wind, or rabbit. Daykeepers and priests kept track of the calendar, and people could tell the future by tracking the days."
    I loved reading my horoscope, so keeping track of the days made sense to me. Despite reason number 40 (mean tour guide), I leaned in closer so I could hear Nando's story and ignore the laughter and talking behind me.
    Nando went on. "When Muluc turned fourteen, her parents began to arrange for her marriage to her father's apprentice."
    At fourteen? Oh-so popular Fiona's not even allowed to date yet. I imagined my parents trying to find me and my flatter-than-flat chest a husband. I'd end up with someone like that kid in our neighborhood who eats his scabs.
    "Who was the apprentice?" Barb asked. "Did she love him?"
    Nando closed his eyes and sighed.
    "Sorry. No more questions." Barb waved her hands frantically. "Promise."
    "Muluc's father was a scribe, which meant that he made books about the gods and kings and priests. He was a powerful man because he could read and most of the kingdom could not."
    "The Mayans had books?" Barb asked.
    Nando snorted. "Libraries of books, until the Spanish burned them."
    "Burned them?" I asked in spite of myself.
    He looked right at me. "No more interruptions, or I'll stop."
    "Sorry." I tried to sound really sarcastic. "Like I care."
    "My story begins on the day called ten Manik. Manik means war and sacrifice. Ten was an unlucky day."
    ***
T HE D AY 10 M ANIK
    War and Sacrifice
    Ten was an unlucky number.
    Muluc rose from her reed mat when she heard the spider monkeys chattering in the trees. A warm breeze fluttered through the compound, so maybe a storm would finally come today. Her mother slept with her little brother in her arms as Muluc walked barefoot across the cool marble floors, stopping at the doorway of her father's workshop, where she heard the servants beating bark to make paper. Her father was up and working, preparing a screen book honoring the rain gods. The king had ordered a special ceremony and ball game to appease the gods and to bring rain so the corn harvest would not be lost.
    Muluc smiled at her father's short hair shooting out of his headband in a tangle. Quills and brushes dripping with paint stuck out of the headband at all angles, making him look like a strange bird. Parrot Nose leaned over him, nodding. Her parents wanted her to marry Parrot Nose because he was one of the king's nephews and might rule someday, but Muluc didn't like his looks—his forehead was too short, he was a little too tall, and his nose looked just like a parrot's beak. He treated her kindly when he bothered to notice her at all, but Muluc figured he'd rather be married to her father. She wasn't ready to be a boring married woman, spending her days weaving and nursing children; she enjoyed her freedom, what little she managed to have.
    She tiptoed past the workshop and walked down the steps outside, despite her mother's warning not to leave the compound, because the royal priests had predicted raids from other kingdoms. Muluc thought her mother simply wanted to keep her home to fetch things—like a common servant!
    "Muluc! Come back now." Her mother's voice startled her. "You know what I said."
    "I was just looking for the monkeys."
    Her mother raised an eyebrow.
    "Really!" Muluc said.
    "Come help me prepare the chocolate for your father."
    "And Parrot Nose?"
    "You know we don't want you calling