I shook my head.
‘Want to come on survey with me? We tramp through the monte and look for mounds. Fight with the bugs and try to avoid heatstroke. Lots of fun.’
‘The monte?’
‘Second-growth rain forest,’ Barbara said. ‘All this.’ She waved her hand at the scrub beyond the huts. ‘The Maya divided the world into the col – the cultivated fields – and the monte – the wild lands. In a week on survey, you’ll learn more about the monte than you ever wanted to know. I’ll teach you how to read a compass and follow a transect.’
‘Sure. That sounds all right to me.’
‘Great.’ She looked at Tony. ‘What do you think? She’s on survey, all right?’
Tony grinned at me over his drink. ‘She didn’t tell you that you’ll have to get up at six AM.’
‘That’s okay.’
Tony lifted his glass as if making a toast. ‘Barbara wins again. You’re on survey.’
At the other table, Carlos turned up the volume on the cassette player, and a Mexican version of a Beatles tune filled the plaza. Maggie made an inaudible comment, and Carlos reached over to touch her hand. My mother was drinking a gin and tonic and staring off into the darkness beyond the lantern light.
‘You’re in the same hut I’m in,’ Barbara was saying to me. ‘Want help setting up your hammock?’
‘Sure.’
We said good-night to my mother and Tony, and headed toward the hut.
‘I get tired of watching the courtship rituals,’ Barbara said as we left the plaza.
The sound of Carlos’s cassette player was fading in the distance. Barbara snapped on her flashlight and shone it on the path before us. ‘The first summer, it was an interesting sociological phenomenon. But you watch it four years running, and it gets tedious. The players change, but the moves never do. I steer clear of it.’
‘You’ve come here for the past four years?’ I asked.
‘Not this site. Last year I was at a site up by Mexico City; year before, I was at an Anasazi site in Arizona. Every site is a little different, but some things don’t change. You always feel filthy; there’s always a graduate student like Carlos who wants to play late-night games, and there’s always someone like Maggie who’s willing to play. I got a chance to watch Carlos in action last year. He’s smooth, but callous as hell. When he makes a play for you, watch out.’
I glanced at her face, but could not read her expression in the dim light. ‘Who says he will?’
‘You’ve got to be kidding. You’re pretty and you’re the new kid in town. It isn’t a question of whether he will; it’s only a question of when.’
She stopped by a large black rubber barrel equipped with a faucet attachment. On top of the barrel was a battered metal dishpan. A grimy bar of soap sat in a makeshift soap dish: an old temple stone with an oval indentation. Barbara set her flashlight beside the soap. ‘Welcome to the washroom,’ she said. ‘All the comforts of home. The outhouse is at the end of that path. It’s the best outhouse in this part of the country, though that doesn’t say a hell of a lot.’ She rinsed the dishpan, then filled it with water and washed her face. ‘You can hang your towel in the tree right here,’ she said, tugging her towel from a branch. ‘Like I said, all the comforts of home. The showers are down that path, past the outhouse and upwind of it. They remove very little of the dirt, but they do rearrange it a bit. You’re better off taking a swim in the cenote instead of a shower except when you want to wash your hair.’
I ran water in the basin and splashed it on my face. The water was lukewarm and even after rinsing I could feel soap on my skin. I guessed that Barbara was right; I never would feel clean. My eyes still felt hot and dry from crying.
In the hut, Barbara lit a tall white candle in a clear glass chimney. The flame cast a pool of yellow light on the footlocker where she set it; shadows wavered in the corners of the hut.
By the candlelight, I found the shelf where Tony had set my bag earlier. I dug through the bag for the oversized T-shirt I had brought to sleep in. Barbara undressed and, casually naked, rubbed herself with insect repellent. She offered me the repellent, advised me to use it, then instructed me on the best method for sleeping in a hammock.
‘There’s a knack to it,’ she said, laying one hand on her hammock. She took a sheet from the shelf and tossed it to me, took another for herself. She wrapped the sheet loosely around her, held one side of the hammock away from her, spreading the webbing of cotton strings, then sat back in it, lying diagonally. She arranged the sheet around her, tucked one arm under her head, and smiled at me. ‘See. Comfortable as your own bed.’ She was rocking slightly. ‘Could you hand me my cigarettes?’
I took the cigarettes from the footlocker, used the candle to light one, and handed it to her. She puffed and silently watched me attempt to duplicate her maneuver. My own rocking motion was somewhat more frantic and the edges of the hammock tried to close over me.
‘Lie crosswise,’ Barbara suggested.
I managed to squirm around until the length of my body kept the webbing spread. I tucked the sheet around me.
‘Comfortable?’ she asked.
‘As long as I don’t move.’
‘Want a cigarette?’
‘No thanks.’ I felt more comfortable than I had felt for many months. I had seen my mother and survived the meeting. ‘Hey, who’s going to blow out the candle?’
‘I can get it from here,’ she said. She leaned over and blew the candle out.
I propped up my head on my arm and my hammock rocked furiously. ‘Seems like a tough place to make love,’ I said, thinking of Carlos and Maggie.
‘It can be done,’ Barbara said. ‘Trust me.’
‘You sound like an expert.’ I could see only the glowing tip of her cigarette, rocking slowly in the darkness. For a moment, she was silent, and I thought perhaps I had said too much.
‘Stick around here, and you can find out firsthand,’ she said slowly. ‘I’m sure Carlos would be delighted to help you learn.’
‘That’s all right. I think I’ll pass.’ I watched her cigarette glow brighter as she took a puff.
‘You married?’ she asked.
‘No. I’m just out of a bad breakup.’ I tried to sound casual. ‘That’s one reason I’m down here. He was the art director at the advertising agency where I worked.’ I could visualize his face clearly: dark hair with a touch of gray, blue eyes.
‘He was married?’
‘Sure enough.’ I managed to keep my voice light. I was glad the hut was dark.
‘Aren’t they always,’ Barbara said. Her voice had softened. ‘I had an affair with a professor of mine. He was married and had two kids. He finally said it was over, cut me off, wouldn’t have anything to do with me. When I was sure it was all over, I changed schools. I couldn’t stand seeing him, up there in front of his classes, so very sure of himself.’
‘I quit and left town.’ It felt good to tell someone about it. Especially someone who did not know Brian, did not judge me to be a fool.
‘I know how it goes,’ Barbara said. ‘Well, if you’re looking for a place to escape and forget, this is a good one. They’ll never find you here.’
‘Thanks for helping me with everything,’ I said awkwardly.
‘No problem,’ she said. ‘Any time you need to talk, let me know.’
I watched her silhouette lean over and stub the cigarette out in the dirt on the hut floor. I heard the sheet rustle as she turned over. ‘Better get to sleep now,’ she advised.
‘Good-night,’ I said.
‘’Night.’