After postponing it at least four times, he still found himself on his mother’s doorstep the day before departure. He still had the house key. Or had she changed the locks by now? It felt strange to simply walk in, so he rang the bell instead. Hopefully she isn’t home. He shifted his weight from his left foot to his right while peering through the window. The curtains obscured about a quarter of the view on either side. He saw no one in the living room, though that wasn’t a space his mother spent much time in anyway. During the day, she was usually at work, and in the evenings she often sat at the kitchen table while Juan lounged on the couch with his brother, gaming or watching TV.

The light in the hallway flicked on, a shadow moving toward the door.

Juan clenched his fingers together. What was he supposed to say? Unease gnawed at him as he frantically searched for words he might use once his mother stood before him.

When the door cracked open, all he managed was a hoarse, “Hey.”

The door opened wider. His mother planted a hand on her hip. “Well… look who we have here.”

Juan’s neck prickled. He scratched at it with his nails. “Hey,” he blurted again. Shame washed over him—he couldn’t even hold a normal conversation with his own mother.

She merely raised an eyebrow.

“Can we…?” When the rest of the words stuck in his throat, he gestured awkwardly inside.

“You want to come in? After earning your diploma, did you lose the last few brain cells that allow you to speak?”

“You didn’t exactly make an effort to talk to me this past year either,” Juan muttered, staring at the threshold. He thought it might be easier to step over the Great Wall of China than over that.

She scoffed. “It was your choice to leave.”

Juan pressed his lips together. It wasn’t as if they’d had all that much to say to each other before, either.

His mother sighed and opened the door the rest of the way. Without a word, she turned and walked down the hall.

Juan scraped together his courage. This is going fine. At least she didn’t slam the door in your face. Clinging to the idea that this counted as a reasonable start, he forced himself across the invisible barrier and stepped into the hallway. He hesitated, wondering whether to hang his coat on the rack. Holding onto the illusion that keeping it on meant he was free to leave whenever he wanted, he left it on and entered the living room.

Even if only to avoid the comment “you might as well have kept your coat on.”
He’d rather hear that he could take it off.

Juan perched on the very edge of the couch. His mother remained standing in the doorway to the kitchen, her hand once more on her hip, watching him expectantly.

He cleared his throat. He couldn’t help feeling like a small boy again, convinced he’d done something wrong without knowing what.

“I, uh… I’m going to Peru for a few weeks. Next week.” His thumbnail scraped along the buckle of his watch strap. Another gift from his brother. He couldn’t even remember the occasion—maybe there hadn’t been a specific reason at all.

“To Peru?” His mother scoffed. “With what money? You’ve just finished your studies. A normal person would start earning something first.”

“It’s a gift from Mateo. For my diploma. E’s coming with me. Because Mateo’s in prison.” He glanced up at her nervously. “I don’t know if you already knew that?”

"Knew?" she sneered. “What do you think! The entire neighborhood is talking about it. I can barely show my face outside—I’m mortified! And you still dare to accept gifts from him? Do you realize that’s practically the same as taking bribe money? You need to distance yourself from him, Juan. I’ve told you that so many times. What more has to happen before you do? Does he really have to kill someone? Or do you not care, as long as he keeps showering you with gifts? It’s disgusting.”

Juan bowed his head, staring stubbornly at the faded reddish-brown tiles. He had no idea how to respond.

The silence dragged on. It felt as though his mother were draining all the energy from him, intent on wearing him down completely.

I have to say something. Defend Mateo. Defend myself.

The air he inhaled felt too thick for his lungs, and a wave of panic washed over him. He wanted to make himself small, disappear—and at the same time, a sliver of awareness told him that shrinking away wouldn’t save him from the suffocating feeling.

He stood up and nearly tripped over his own feet on the way out. Away, away, was all he could think. Just like before.

The world spun when he reached the street, but the farther he got from the house, the steadier everything became. A honking car made him jump, his heart pounding in his throat. He calmed a little when he saw Emilio leaning out of the rolled-down window. “Come on. I’m craving pizza.”

Juan hurried over and slid into the passenger seat.

“You already assumed it would go wrong?” Juan muttered.

“You never know with her.” Emilio shrugged. “Hey, you tried. From now on, we’re just going to focus on our vacation. I’ve even done some research—stocked up on bottles of mosquito crap, and believe it or not—killer hiking shoes. Oh, and a solar-powered power bank! For when we’re stuck without electricity in some jungle hut.”

Juan felt a smile creep up. If even Emilio genuinely wanted to make something of their trip to Peru, things had to turn out all right. Surely it wouldn’t take long before he forgot this conversation with his mother.

***

Juan took a sip of his Inca Kola, the yellow soda popular here in Cuzco which, despite its name, tasted nothing like cola at all. Around him people laughed loudly and chatted, and after such a busy day he actually longed for a bit of quiet. They’d visited the salt terraces of Salinas, as well as the Inca terraces of Moray. That was where they’d met James, a Canadian a few years older than they were. He knew an astonishing amount about the Incas and other cultures, and Juan found it incredibly interesting to have a personal guide. Other cultures had never really interested him much—even though his own roots lay in Puerto Rico—but seeing these structures now, he was deeply impressed by what these peoples had built hundreds of years ago.

That afternoon they’d visited Sacsayhuamán, a fortress made of enormous stones fitted together so precisely that no mortar had been used. And to think they’d stacked those massive blocks without machines… it was astonishing.

“You’re going to Machu Picchu too, right?” James asked. “Tomorrow?”

Juan nodded. Earlier that day they’d discovered they’d booked the same tour, even though some of the activities differed.

“Awesome! I can tell you a lot, if you like. Of course you can also follow one of the official guides, but—”

Emilio groaned and rubbed his face. “I’d actually prefer not to hear you ramble on all day. Jesus—don’t you ever shut up?”

James gave him an apologetic look, but Juan waved it off. “Complaining is kind of his specialty. Don’t mind him.” He took another sip of Inca Kola. “I’d actually like it if you joined us. I’m not really a fan of big groups anyway—it never gets anywhere and you just end up in each other’s way.”

James’s face brightened again after Emilio’s outburst. “Exactly, I much prefer a smaller group too.”

“And you’re traveling alone because small groups don’t really like you?” Emilio asked with a provocative grin.

Juan knew his friend didn’t care for all those “piles of stones.” After two days of excursions (with two more to go), he was clearly looking for another outlet for his energy—and James was paying the price. The man fiddled with a beer coaster. While plenty of young people traveled solo simply because they enjoyed it and easily met new people, Juan suspected it hadn’t entirely been James’s choice. Maybe there hadn’t been anyone willing to go on this adventure with him.

“I’m helping out on an excavation on the coast,” James said then. “Now I’m on break and wanted to see more of the country.” He took a sip of beer, keeping his gaze averted, which gave Juan the sense that this was only part of the story. He didn’t press further. They’d only just met—James didn’t have to lay all his problems on the table. It didn’t have to be anything dramatic. Maybe he simply hadn’t clicked with the other archaeologists. Because they were older, or boring, or something like that.

“Found anything yet?” Emilio asked. The idea of treasure hunting clearly appealed to him. “Gold or something? Or are you digging up dinosaurs?”

“We did come across a burial ground, though it seems to belong to common folk, without many valuable grave goods. Most of the graves were looted long ago. There was a lot of pottery, though—extremely detailed—and—”

Emilio yawned. “Pots and pans. You’d really get hard over that. Though that’s not the only thing you get hard over, right? Juan here isn’t some disgusting—”

Under the table, Juan kicked his friend hard in the shin. He shot him a warning look.

“I need to use the restroom,” James muttered, pushing his chair back and walking away.

“Don’t be such a child,” Juan snapped irritably at Emilio.

“Oh, come on—that guy just wants to screw you. We weren’t even three seconds at that ruin before he was all over you.”

Juan shrugged. He didn’t believe James was interested in him like that. And even if he were, that was no reason to talk to him like that. “I find what he has to say interesting, and he seems like a decent guy.”

He hoped Emilio hadn’t chased him off with those idiotic remarks. They’d been friends since kindergarten, and Juan would go through fire for him—but that didn’t mean he ignored his antisocial behavior. By now, he’d accepted that Emilio would probably never change in that regard; it was part of the package.

Emilio didn’t respond and took a sip of beer.

Juan looked past him toward the restrooms. James didn’t reappear. He suppressed a sigh, feeling the urge to get up and apologize on his friend’s behalf. But he couldn’t exactly walk into the men’s room to say that…

***

James splashed water on his face, settled his glasses back on his nose, and took a deep breath. How could Alva ever have meant that jerk? All day long, he’d commented on everything James said or did. He’d never encountered anyone so unpleasant in his life.

Since meeting Alva, the line between fantasy and reality had grown razor-thin. Time and again he’d told himself he was a fool for being swept up in this nonsense—but her details had been so precise…

If she was truly right, an illustrious career awaited him—and that was why he’d carried out her insane request to go to Moray today and look for two English-speaking early-twenty-somethings of Central American descent. Emilio and Juan—she’d even known their names. It was eerie, and part of him still refused to believe he was dealing with anything supernatural. She could just as well have found the tour registrations online. Maybe she’d tracked their plans through social media. Yes—that made far more sense than her knowing the boys from a past neither of them remembered. The thought alone made him dizzy.

And yet… Alva had demonstrated an astonishing depth of knowledge about Peru more than a thousand years ago.

But time travel… that’s absurd, James. More likely the woman had access to some old archive or a family inheritance—something not yet available to the public. Something she was willing to grant him access to if he completed this task. All he still had to do was give the two a tour of Huaca de la Luna. And judging by Juan’s enthusiasm, that wouldn’t be difficult. He’d gathered they were also spending a week on the coast, so a trip to the ruins near Trujillo was easily arranged. He worked there, after all—he only had to suggest showing them his latest excavation.

He ran a hand through his hair. He could manage a few more days with these guys.

The door opened. He startled when Juan stepped inside. James quickly grabbed a paper towel to dry his hands. I was just washing my hands. Nothing strange.

“Everything okay?” Juan asked.

James genuinely wondered how this guy could be friends with such a first-rate buffoon. “Yeah. Just ate something that didn’t agree with me.”

It was a painfully transparent lie. Juan’s face clearly showed he didn’t believe it for a second, but he only nodded. “That sucks. We should probably head back to the hotel. The bus leaves early tomorrow.”

“Yeah, that’s right.” James left the restroom.

Juan stopped in the hallway. “Sorry about Emilio’s behavior. Sometimes he’s just a real jerk. When he’s bored, he tries to provoke people.”

James nudged his glasses higher on his nose. “There’s not much you can do about that.”

“I was supposed to make this trip with my brother, but he unexpectedly couldn’t come. Emilio took his place—ruins just aren’t really his thing.”

Had Juan’s brother backed out at the last moment? Then how could Emilio matter so much, if it had never been his intention to come here in the first place?

Juan smiled. “I do think it’s impressive that you’re traveling on your own. I don’t see myself doing that.”

Juan was social—James could easily imagine him fitting in anywhere. James himself wasn’t like that at all; his task had forced him into this awkward position. He should just be glad Juan was here. If Emilio had been alone… he’d never have been able to carry out his assignment.

“It still takes some getting used to,” James replied. “When I started working as an intern on the excavation, I didn’t know anyone either. At some point, you have to.” At least that much was true.

“How long have you been in Peru, actually?”

“Almost two and a half years, though I’ve gone back to Canada twice to visit family.”

“And you’ve been an intern all that time?”

“They’re long-term projects—and fortunately I get room and board. I’m currently working on my dissertation on the fertility cult of the Moche. Since we uncovered new graves, it’s yielded a lot of interesting information.”

Information Alva had fed him. A woman as shrouded in mystery as the civilization he studied.

“That’s awesome,” Juan said with a smile. “Sounds exciting.”

“It’s pretty intense, especially in the blazing sun. There are days we hardly find anything. But when you do stumble upon something remarkable… it’s incredible.” He hesitated. Could he bring it up already? “You’re heading to the coast too, right? Maybe I could give you a tour of the excavation.”

“That would be amazing! If we get to see an actual skeleton, that might even win Emilio over."

James resisted the urge to snort. I bet it will.