Three weeks with my brother - Nicholas Sparks [30]
“I’ve got to call Cat,” I said, feeling the need to share this with her. I dialed the number and I heard the phone begin to ring. This amazed me. I was making a phone call from the middle of nowhere. When she answered, the first words out of my mouth were, “I’m standing on top of a Mayan temple in the jungle!” and I heard Cathy whoop with the same excitement I was feeling.
“Is it great?” she asked.
I stared around me in wonder. “It’s incredible,” I said. “The only way it could be any better was if you were here beside me.”
“Aw,” she said. “I miss you, too.”
Later, when I hung up, Micah asked for the phone to call Christine. Unfortunately, she was out, and, disappointed, he hung up after leaving a message on the answering machine.
A minute later, our moment of solitude ended with the arrival of the rest of the crowd.
That night at the hotel, there was a cocktail party followed by dinner. Dinner was a buffet, and despite the warnings about eating salads and vegetables, we saw many people eating them anyway. And just as the doctor predicted, more than a dozen would become ill within days; some would remain sick throughout the rest of the trip.
We dined that night with Bob and Kate Devlin, who split their time between Connecticut and New York City, and with whom we formed an immediate connection. They had two sons approximately our age and they said we reminded them of their kids. For us, the connection seemed just as personal.
“Doesn’t Kate remind you of mom?” Micah asked, as we were heading back to our room.
“Yeah, she does,” I answered, amazed that he’d been thinking exactly the same thing as I.
Lost in thought, we didn’t say much else the rest of the night.
Because it was the hub of Mayan life, Tikal has been declared a World Heritage site by UNESCO. Discovery, excavation, and repairs have been ongoing for decades, and despite the number of visitors, it takes a small army to keep the jungle at bay.
At one time, the area surrounding Tikal was home to a hundred thousand people, all of whom depended on the city for protection and trade. By the end of the tenth century, however, the civilization began to disintegrate. A number of theories abound as to the reason—overpopulation, wars, an overthrow of the ruling class, drought, famine, dwindling nutrient capacity of the soil, or simple discontent of the people that led them to find opportunities with other invading tribes. But within a few generations, the city had been completely abandoned and the people dispersed back into the countryside. The rise and sudden fall of the Maya is still considered one of the world’s great mysteries, and I was thinking about it as we made our way to the ancient city.
The ruins of Tikal include some three thousand structures, including palaces, temples, platforms, ball courts, plazas, and terraces, built over a period of six hundred years. Thus, some sections are significantly older than others, and it’s possible to observe the changing architecture of the Maya, which enables archaeologists to accurately date other Mayan sites throughout Central America and Mexico.
It was the sacrificial stones, however, that intrigued my brother. These were the stones upon which people had been killed as offerings to the gods. Our Maya guide was proudly discussing the historical and cultural reasons for the stones when Micah leaned over and whispered, “Have someone get a picture of me lying on the stone, while you pretend to stab me. Wouldn’t that be cool?”
Actually, I found the thought a little morbid, but I reluctantly agreed. I handed over the camera and we got ourselves into position. Just as the picture was about to be taken, the guide came rushing over, waving his arms to stop us.
“No, no!” he was shouting, his face reddening. “You can’t lie on the stones and take pictures! They have great religious significance!”
“I know,” Micah countered, “that’s why I want the picture.”
“It’s not allowed!”
“Just one picture.”
“No!”
“Aw,” he