CHAPTER FOUR. Discoveries in the Underbrush

Tyler wiped his forehead.

"Is there a reason we have to be hack-n-slashing through this jungle?" he asked. "Isn't there like. A trail or something?"

Paco laughed.

"You sure have a sense of humor, Tyler," he said. "This is the trail. We're making it."

Tyler paused to consider this, as it had never occurred to him that the trail had to be started somewhere, by someone. He felt a little stupid for not realizing that before.

"Wow," he commented. "It's just. I never really thought about how hard it must've been for everybody to cut through all this stuff."

"Yes, and massacre people," Paco bit back. "I'm sorry. You are just a child, or so you say, at the tender age of twenty-three."

He snickered.

"But all ages should know the truth, in the hopes that the same errors will not be made again. I trust Joe in this because I know he isn't after money or riches or fame, or likely to murder anyone."

"But you said you have no idea why he's searching for the lost continent of Atlantis or whatever."

"This is true. I never wanted to pry. But I do know what isn't driving him, and so I help him out."

"It must be awesome to have friends like that. Loyal. Honest."

"Sí," agreed Paco. "I would say it is like having a brother. But I have many brothers. And I don't like a single one of them. And they don't like me."

He laughed.

"Such is life."

"I get along okay with my sister," said Tyler. "She's annoying as hell, but I dunno. She's my little sister. I can insult her all day long but man. You try and insult her and I am on the warpath."

"I am very familiar with the concept."

Tyler was glad he had this Joe dude's constitution, because what with all the sweat and mosquitoes, which they generally didn't show in the serials, he would be absolutely dying out here. But he was still Tyler inside his head, and he was exhausted in the heat of the midday sun, despite the jungle canopy filtering the light.

He was looking down, but he still stumbled on something hard and square.

"What's this?" he asked, since it was something very strange to encounter in the middle of a jungle, where he had been accustomed to rugged terrain or the general slop of the underbrush, but not the hard and obvious lines of something clearly man-made.

"Well, why don't you pick it up?"

"Because I really don't want to be in beheading range of a machete."

"I promise I won't behead you."

"Do you think I'd be wise to believe you?"

"You're wearing my friend's body. Maiming, yes. Beheading, no."

Tyler wondered just how much reassurance that would be the longer this went on and the more likely it became that Paco's friend Joe Mulcahy wasn't coming back.

He really hoped the prof jumped back into his body, with the express addendum that Tyler be returned to his own, and his own time.

He realized Doritos hadn't been invented yet and he kind of panicked.

Not sure why that held such sway over him in comparison to possible machete-related head loss, but the mind and heart did strange things.

"Joe's twenty-nine, you know," said Paco. "Not that much difference in age."

"What? You're joking."

"No. I take it you are from softer place where the men don't do hard work."

"More like, where the men don't get so lost in tequila and nicotine," commented Tyler.

"Hm. Interesting."

Tyler remembered what he'd seen in films about archaeology, and gently dusted off the thing on the ground, which looked at first like the bungled up potholders that Trixie had made him back when she had a home ec class the year before. They were made of little strips of fabric and a total disaster and Tyler absolutely loved them. They held pride of place on his computer desk because he wasn't sure when he'd ever have an apartment to speak of, and therefore pots that needed holding, and while he knew he could give them to his mom and dad for cooking at the house, Trixie had been very intense about how they were gifts for his first apartment, they're for luck! and the pang in his heart looking at this thing that put him in memory of the potholders was a strong one.

"Looks like the potholders my kid sister made me last year."

"Ah, so they do still work with their hands where you come from."

"Eh. More or less. Depends on the person, I suppose."

"You'll have to tell me more about it."

"Long as you don't machete me first."

"Like I said, you're wearing my friend's head. I wouldn't separate it from his body. But don't think I won't - "

"Maim me, right. Yeah. I know."

Tyler turned the thing over in his hands. It was soft on the outside, and he wondered if it was some kind of protective cover. He took the tip of the machete and cut into the fabric surrounding it.

"What are you doing?"

"Well, if this is anything like what Trixie made me," he said, "this isn't really the important thing. It's what's behind it that counts."

"You are quite the philosopher."

"Not so far in life. Then again, I've never had the occasion."

"If you destroy a priceless artifact, I think Joe will find and kill you himself."

"Relax. I'm pretty sure it's just the wrapping."

But he still heeded Paco's warning, and was very careful that the sharp blade of the machete never touched the solid thing inside the fabric.

He slowly slid it out.

A heavy square sat in his hand, glowing dully in the jungle sunlight. There were words written across it in a language that Tyler did not recognize. When he turned it this way and that, it shone golden in the sun.

"That's real gold," said Paco, with a quick intake of breath.

"Wow," said Tyler, completely entranced. "What does it say? Can you read it?"

"No," admitted Paco. "I'm just the local guide. But this might be one of the best clues yet. And just think - if you hadn't seen it on the forest floor, we may never have found it at all."

Tyler didn't really want to admit that it had nothing to do with his amazing perceptive abilities, and a lot more with his crankiness about being out in the hot jungle sun and being tired, having happened to look down at his boots when he almost tripped over the thing.

"And we're lucky that we happened to cut into the jungle at just the right place," he said, wanting to give Paco some credit, although really, both things were random chance. "And you were the one who chose the direction, so I'd say we should both get the credit."

Paco smiled at him.

"I knew I liked you," he said. "Well then. Let's get back to Aguascalientes. We'll need to find the Professor."

"I thought I was the professor."

"Joe is a professor. Not the Professor. And you, Tyler, are not a professor at all."

"Touché."

"Now, let's get back to civilization."

Although he didn't show it, or at least he thought he didn't, although he was sure he was probably failing spectacularly, Tyler rejoiced inwardly that they would be returning to a town, with all the blessed perks and trappings of civilization.

Tyler hadn't really contended with the reality that his concept of civilization would clash with the fact that it was 1888, and they were in Ecuador.

Such luxuries as he was accustomed to had not even been thought of yet, let alone Doritos.

Still, at least he could sit in a chair with a drink in his hand, contemplating his life choices, while Paco was on the hunt for the Professor, whoever that might be. As well as they seemed to be getting along, it was still very clear that Paco didn't trust him. But that didn't faze him too much, since Tyler didn't trust him, either.

"Well, well, well. Look who bothered to show up."

The voice was just this side of a smoky whisky. Tyler looked up to see a woman in a form-fitting red dress, with red lipstick, and long white gloves. Her hair was curled neatly, framing the sides of her face. He thought she was dressed oddly for the time period, but also thought it wise not to mention it.

She sat down in the chair beside him and drew a long cigarette out of a little silver holder she took out of her purse. Then she just sat there, smoking at him for a while, one leg crossed over the other. She was wearing white high heeled shoes.

This woman seemed so completely incongruous in her surroundings that Tyler didn't really know what to say. It was clear that she knew him, though. Maybe a woman that Joe had spurned? Maybe a woman who had spurned Joe? Maybe someone who wanted his assistance?

As it turned out, it was none of the above.

"Hello, Tyler," she said. "So. How are you finding it, so far?"