Andean Experience Ch. 03: A Shining Path

Jaguar's Andean Experience transports tourists to ancient sites across Peru and northern Bolivia. In Chapter 1, "Jaguar's Curse", an especially obnoxious passenger, Wayne Rasmussen, is badly injured in a fall at one of the sites. Was it an accident or had Jaguar's secret incantations caused it?

In Chapter 2, "Marina's Choice", Rasmussen's wife must decide whether to return to America with her husband or continue the tour. Again, Jaguar appeals to the spirit world to shape her decision. He finds a new passenger who leaves Jag wondering if it was a big mistake.

I invite you to read these stories before or after Chapter 3. Please evaluate or comment. Thanks.

Chapter 03: A Shining Path

Jaguar's tour group was clustered around the glass-cased exhibit, staring in awe. Some of them had tears in their eyes, while others seemed to wring their hands in sympathy. Everybody displayed an intense response to the exhibit- everyone that is, except for Lorenzo Martinez, who, as always, hung back from the others, scarcely interested at all.

What held their attention that bright Peruvian morning? After all the amazing cultural phenomena the group had already seen on this tour, what now rivetted their attention in this small, dark museum?

It was a young girl. Staring back from within the temperature-controlled glass case was a teenage Incan, frozen in time for more than 650 years.

Called Juanita, after the scientist who discovered her high on a Peruvian volcano, her remains appeared almost perfectly preserved. However, the skin was withered like dried fruit, drawing it closer to her bones. The young woman bore no signs of injury- though probably killed by a sharp blow to the back of the head. She seemed to stare back at the awed tour group, her hair, and other features fully intact.

'Juanita the Ice Maiden' had been sacrificed to the Inca gods, in a ritual where she was brought live to the crest of a snow-capped mountain. She was dressed in her best gown, accompanied up the slope by high priests and perhaps even her proud parents. No doubt, she knew what awaited her, but it was a great honour to serve the gods. Other children had been sacrificed this way on other peaks.

Juanita had been laid out with offerings for her journey to the afterlife, including food and little toy llamas to transport her there. After a quick death, the young girl had frozen solid and remained that way until discovered in 1995.

The response to Juanita was visceral- tears of sympathy, and some disgust with the idea of a young life being taken this way. Jaguar had seen her many times and the group reaction was always the same. It was a very moving experience for most people.

There was no denying that seeing her frozen in time was the closest anyone today could come to a way of life more than half a millennium before. It wasn't hard to imagine her standing up to tap on the glass, urging them to release her from the glass prison.

Jag stood beside Marina in front of the case, for she had become his constant companion since that night in Lima when they were together. He could see tears streaming down her cheeks as she fought to maintain her composure. Then she turned to him and squeezed his hand, seeking some support. He slipped his arm around her waist and pulled her closer to him.

While seeing Juanita was a very moving experience, it was by no means the last emotional event that would unfold in the days immediately ahead.

****

The bus ride from Nazca to Arequipa, Peru's second largest city, had been relatively uneventful. It was a ten-hour drive in the old Mercedes, with regular stops along the way. At first, they followed the long, straight Pan American Highway south along the length of the relatively featureless Nazca Desert which they'd flown above yesterday. Then the minibus turned inland, passing into the foothills, following the broad valleys between elevated land.

They had stopped for a portable lunch alongside a picturesque stream close to the road. Jaguar's destinations were far apart, so his tour group was eager to stretch their legs and feel the almost constant daytime sun on their shoulders. Lorenzo stayed apart from the others, shouting in an animated way on his phone, though Jaguar was unable to hear anything he said.

Night was falling in Arequipa when the Mercedes pulled up to their small hotel, home for the next two nights. After dropping off their packs in the four rooms, everyone except Lorenzo assembled in the adjacent cafe for supper. Conversation was boisterous, everybody eager to see this new city on their way to their ultimate destination, Machu Picchu.

Later, Jag and Marina shared another night to remember. There could be no denying that they were falling for each other. She was free from Wayne now and had seldom thought about him the past three days, apart from a sympathetic phone call to the hospital. Jaguar was her new man, and she was eager to show him how strongly she felt about that.

Though Marina had only been an intimate companion to Jaguar for a few days, she knew that there was no comparison between the two men. With Jag, she felt safe and wanted. With Wayne... nothing. This one was all male, while Wayne was so complicated, so difficult. The feelings she once held for him had died in the wreckage of their failed marriage. There would be no going back to him now.

Marina thrilled to Jaguar's ways in bed. He was so much better than Wayne had ever been- so attentive, so fervent, and... so manly! They kissed passionately as he caressed her lithe body. This was physical love like she'd never experienced before, like she'd only dreamed of. And she wanted more of it!

Marina clutched her lover tightly, pulling his muscular body against her. It was difficult for them not to cry out in their pleasure, but they knew that walls were paper-thin. Both were rising higher, temporarily lost in a world of their own.

However, their bliss was abruptly interrupted by Lorenzo's shouting. They stopped and listened to snatches of conversation as their next-door-neighbour thundered into his phone, confirming what Jaguar already knew.

"Mediodia sabado"... Saturday noon... "escalones de la basilica"... Basilica steps"... "preparate"... be ready... "quien viene?"... who's coming?... "No jodas!"... Don't fuck up!

That brought the lovemaking to an abrupt halt as Marina asked what that was all about. She could see the concern on Jag's face, and had already noticed that the new passenger didn't seem like a typical tourist at all. They were still in bed, so she knew that it would be easy to get her lover to tell her what was going on.

"What was he saying? Translate for me, Jag."

"Marina, there is something strange about him," he whispered. "I think he's some sort of fugitive or criminal on the run- maybe from drug dealers, the police, I don't know. He's not interested in seeing ancient sites. He's just using our tour as a cover to get to the Bolivian border."

"How do you know he's going to Bolivia?"

"I heard him on the phone the other night. His contacts are meeting him at the basilica steps in Copacabana. That's just across the border. Then he's going to LaPaz, the capital."

"So, what are you going to do, Jag?"

"Nothing. Right now, I plan to drop him off there. I don't want to do anything heroic to endanger anybody else in the bus. So, I've decided to make the basilica in Copacabana our first stop. I'll be sure he gets out first, then we'll just drive away without him. Whatever happens to him after that is none of my concern."

"Don't you think you should try to find out more about him. Who you have on the bus and with us in the hotel for the next few days? What if he has a gun? What if he is a wanted man? I think we need to know that for our own safety."

"Yeah, I hear what you're saying. OK, I have a friend with the police in Lima. I could give him the name to see if there's anyone called Lorenzo Martinez they're either looking for, or is a known drug dealer."

"Do that, Jag. He could be dangerous, and we need to know it."

"Sure. I think that I have his number in my phone. I'll text him the name and ask him to run a routine check- as a friend- on one of my passengers who is acting suspiciously."

"Do it now, Jag. Do it now."

"You mean we're finished in bed? Just like that?"

"Just like that. You've got me too worried to get back to it now. Maybe tomorrow night?"

Jaguar got up and slipped on a shirt because the cold mountain night was already setting in. Evidently the outer walls of the two-star hotel were no thicker than those between the rooms. He found the number and texted his friend, Jose.

"Suspicious passenger on tour. Check name Lorenzo Martinez for me. Thanks pal."

It was already late, so he didn't expect to hear from Jose until next morning. Jaguar slipped back into bed and pulled Marina close, his body tired now, but his mind fully alert. She had raised his earlier thoughts from suspicion to fear, and he hoped that his friend in Lima would get back to him by morning. But his thoughts became muddied, and the jaguar fell asleep with the warm body of his feline companion curled up against him.

****

Arequipa is an old colonial Spanish era city, somewhat off the beaten path as Peruvian international tourism is concerned. Most overseas visitors would arrive in Lima, spend some time there, then fly to Cuzco, the ancient Incan city not far from the sacred mountain-top ruins at Machu Picchu. While they might go to Puno to see Lake Titicaca, most would simply return by air from Cuzco to Lima, and then fly home.

The Andean Experience was different, taking passengers between destinations in the old Mercedes. Their tour would end at Machu Picchu after almost three weeks and the passengers would return to Lima by air.

Then Jaguar would for rest a few days in Cuzco before beginning a second tour with new passengers, in reverse order, ending in Lima. It was a grueling schedule, so afterward, he would hole up at his apartment for a month or more before his next two tours.

Travelling by minibus had already brought his travellers to Chavin and Wari ruins north of Lima, and to Nazca sites south of the capita. Arequipa was about a ten hour bus trip from Nazca and another five or six from Puno, at Lake Titicaca.

This made it an ideal stop for two nights along the Andean Experience route. Having compacted the stop at Nazca by one night, the tour was now back on schedule, after delaying in Lima to determine Wayne Rasmussen's condition.

What made stopping for a full day at the city worthwhile was the Inca Ice Maiden, and the huge volcanic cone- El Misti- on the edge of the city. They fit together to tell a compelling story which most international visitors wouldn't normally hear.

This morning, the group was on its way to the little Andean Sanctuaries Museum and a walking tour of old Arequipa. Jaguar still hadn't heard from his police contact in Lima, so he resolved to watch Lorenzo closely until he learned more from his friend, if in fact he would?

The museum was a small place, and Jaguar's group hadn't been told much about it at all. He deliberately kept it that way to maximize the emotional experience when passengers looked upon the frozen sacrificial girl in the large glass-enclosed case.

They learned that like other Peruvian cultures already visited at Chavin, Huari and Nazca, the Inca appeased their gods with sacrificial victims. These might be enemies, prisoners taken as the Inca expanded their growing Andean empire. But they were sometimes the supreme sacrifice, the gift of a virginal child.

Perhaps the belief was that the hardest sacrifices to make were the ones most appreciated by the gods? In any case, the Ice Maiden is the best-preserved of a half-dozen similar Inca child offerings found atop mountains.

After a walking tour through the beautifully restored old Spanish core of Arequipa, the group had an big meal at a good restaurant in the area- a real treat! Then Jaguar loaded them into the Mercedes again, this time to drive them a short distance out of the city to better view El Misti, the volcano which loomed over it.

The drive took them steadily up the slightly angled foot slopes, through ramshackle neighbourhoods which crowded the curving road. Eventually the bus was clear of the suburbs, affording an unobstructed view of El Misti as they followed the curves and switchbacks leading uphill. The old Mercedes was working hard, and Jaguar knew not to go much higher.

Finally, they reached a point where there was a small area to pull off the twisting road. Jaguar eased the minibus into the tight spot and turned off the tired engine.

"This is as high as this old girl will take us. I'll park here for a while to let her cool down, so come off and have a look around. Great views of El Misti from here. You can see the snow cap up there and get a good sense of its height."

Some of the tour group decided that they wanted to hike at least partway up the volcanic cone. Jaguar reminded them that at 19 000 feet above sea level, the snow-covered peak was another ten thousand feet up!

Four of them- Mike Edwardson and the three young women- were not deterred by this, noting that they would only go as high as that little building visible upslope. Jaguar agreed, then stayed back with Marina and Lorenzo.

For the first time, Jag noticed that there was a distinctive bulge in Lorenzo's ever-present rumpled suit coat. It was just below heart-level. He noted that the man was right-handed and could easily reach across his body to draw a gun from that inside pocket, if necessary. A small handgun would fit neatly in there, and if the bulge was a pistol, it might even be mounted in a small leather holster strapped to Lorenzo's body, gangster-style.

As they made small-talk while watching the hikers, Lorenzo was his usual nervous self. He mostly spoke in short bursts of words, while shifting about from his good leg to the one obviously injured at some point

.

"What happened to your leg, Lorenzo?" Marina asked him.

"Bad fall," was all he offered.

"Recently, or long ago?" Jaguar inquired.

"About ten years back."

"Does it still bother you much?"

"I get by."

That conversation wasn't going anywhere, so Jaguar embarked on another avenue, a bolder one.

"So, what do you think of our newly-elected government in Lima?"

"Bastards! All of them," Lorenzo spat out. "Self-serving bastards!"

"In what way do you mean?"

"Don't give a shit about the people!"

"That's democracy, I guess," Marina commented to keep the exchange going.

"Yeah. Shows that it doesn't work worth a damn!"

"So, you're for the people are you, Lorenzo?" Jaguar suggested.

"Fuckin' right!" he exclaimed in his coarse vocabulary.

Then he walked away, as if to say that the conversation was finished.

While the three of them stood quietly at the base of the volcano, Lorenzo chain-smoked furiously. Their exchange seemed to have set him off, and he began pacing back-and-forth with determined steps.

Jag had to wonder why the man might have been so upset by the talk about Peruvian politics. He had total disgust for elected politicians and claimed adamantly that he was for the people. Jaguar concluded that Lorenzo might be some sort of radical communist.

Eventually the four hikers returned to the bus, eager to tell what they'd seen from several hundred feet higher up El Misti's flank. Jaguar asked if they had seen an Incan Ice Maiden up there, then used the opportunity to link sacrifice and the volcano where they stood.

"Andean cultures were in awe of the active volcanoes that followed the backbone of the mountains. You can imagine that the sound and fury of eruption, the fiery lava and choking fumes spoke to them of the gods. A volcanic blast was the most powerful force in their world. This had to be where the gods lived.

That girl we saw in the museum wasn't found in the ice you see up there," he said, pointing to the peak. "But it was on another volcano like this one, not far away. In fact, all the other frozen child sacrifices were found on mountaintops like this one. Imagine that five or six hundred years ago, high priests are forming up here to carry another child to the peak for live sacrifice."

Everyone was quiet as they let that thought sink in. Then Lorenzo broke the spell.

"Hey, let's go back. I need a beer!"

****

Jaguar's phone pinged on the way back to the hotel where they were staying for a second night. He hoped that it was a message from his friend Jose in Lima, but he didn't dare check with Lorenzo sitting across from him in the front seat- where he had the best chance of getting out quickly if necessary.

As soon as he was in the room with the door locked, Jag got to his message. Sure enough, it was from Jose.

"Jag. He might be armed and dangerous. Details in your email. Don't show this to anyone. Jose."

Just then there was knocking on the door and a woman's soft voice, "Let me in, Jag."

It was Marina, so he went out of his messages and pocketed the phone to let her in. The email would have to wait until later.

"Why is it locked, Jag? Trying to keep me away? Not giving you enough sleep?" she smiled and teased playfully.

"You are wearing me out, but if you want an appointment for tonight, I'm your man!"

"You certainly are my man," she said in a coquettish tone, as she hugged him and kissed his neck. "And yes, I do want an appointment for tonight. And make it another long one!" she whispered into his ear.

"The best kind!" he confirmed as he brought his arms tightly around Marina, forgetting all thoughts about Jose's message for the moment.

After they came back from supper, Marina wore a look that told Jaguar what she wanted. She was burning with desire for her new man, and she wasn't making any attempt to hide that from him.

He'd seen the same sort of look before- with Miranda, with Elena, with the parade of women who had been in his bed. But there was something about Marina that was different. This wasn't all about the sex with her. Somehow, this stealthy feline had used her claws to secure a tightening grip on the jaguar. He had strong feelings for her too.

This night was different than the others. Kisses lingered and the pace was slow. They took time for fingertips to brush sensitive skin and tongues to lick ears. They loved slowly enough that Marina could communicate in body language how she was feeling inside. Jaguar sensed what she was telling him without words, and he found himself replying in the same gentle ways.

They didn't just have sex that night, they made love. Marina, who had decided to say goodbye to her husband, and Jaguar, the man who wouldn't let any woman tie him down- both felt themselves succumbing to very powerful emotions.

The feeling building inside them was like a candle, flickering at first, then gradually burning brighter. Marina and Jaguar grew more heated in desire, their damp skin shining in the low light of the small, dark bedroom. Then their passion swept over them like a wave, leaving them gasping for breath.

When Marina had dozed off- a peaceful, contented look on her face- there was finally time to open the email attachment from Jose. First he read a bold print header.

JAGUAR: MAYBE A BIG FISH. REPORT ATTACHED.

He opened it immediately and eagerly began to scroll down the page.

"Julio Olivera Gutierrez [fictitious]

CONSIDER HIM ARMED AND DANGEROUS. DO NOT ATTEMPT TO CONFRONT OR APPREHEND.

Aliases: Andreas Arturo Fernandez; Antonio Rivera Bandini; Lorenzo Salvadore Martinez

Wanted: Domestic terrorism. Human rights abuses. Murder. Conspiracy to commit murder. Unlawfully at large from prison. Multiple narcotics offences. Many lesser offences.

Age: 54

Born: January 15, 1967

Place of Birth: La Paz, Bolivia