Maya Princess

             An elegant young woman walked into Professor Slade Walker’s office. He did not recognize her as one of his students, nor did she appear senior enough to be an adjunct professor. So, who was she, this woman in tight jeans who commanded his office the moment she entered? He abandoned a half-graded term paper and stood as she confidently approached, her black leather boots noisy in his small office.

            “You’re from my agent’s office; she’s found a publisher for my manuscript?” Walked asked, grinning.

            The young woman shook her head. “I’m afraid I can’t help you there.”

            “You must be lost?”

             “This is Davidson College, Archaeology Department. You are Dr. Slade Walker,” she stated, pointing at a name plaque sitting on his desk, a wooden pyramid amid a landscape of ungraded term papers.

             “You’ve got me. What can I do for you?”

             “My name is Lupe Alvarez,” she said as they shook hands. “I need your help.”

Lupe’s dark eyes were intelligent and probing. Strange, Walker thought, she made him think of a panther stalking its prey.

             “Well, Ms. Alvarez, take a seat, and let’s see if I can be of assistance.”

             Moving gracefully, Lupe sat. Walker settled into a chair close by. He studied her, searching for clues; there were none to be found. Walker waited, letting his visitor begin, however before Lupe could say anything a black Lab emerged from behind his desk and trotted over to her. Lupe smiled and petted the dog, which then curled up next to her Stuart Weitmans.

             “Meet Chimu. She’s been my companion for eleven years. She’s making sure I’m not in any danger.”

             Lupe chuckled lightly and said, “She’s got gray hair around her nose.”

             “I call her my bearded lady.”

             “She’s beautiful.”

             “Alvarez,” Walker said quietly, his voice subdued by the workings in his brain. He studied her intently, almost to the point of rudeness. He sighed slightly when memory caught up with query; Walker knew of this girl.

             “Ricardo Alvarez,” he said softly. Lupe leaned back in her chair, satisfaction arching her eyebrows. Then Walker added, “And Ruth.” Walker’s eyes misted as ghosts from the past moistened his vision. He and Rico Alvarez had served together in Vietnam.

Lupe nodded. “You’re quick. Dad said you were one of the smartest guys he ever knew.”

             “How is Rico?”

             “Dad passed away five years ago.”

              Walker shook his head, remorse pressing against his heart. The two had been so close; they had shared so much together, and yet when he received his Marine discharge, they never contacted each other again.

             “Cancer.”

             This simple word unleashed a surge of emotion within Walker. Rico had been such a vibrant, fun guy to be around. How could he be gone? Walker shut his eyes for a moment, slipping back among historic vistas, leaving Lupe alone while he wandered a solitary journey, recalling Rico standing atop a sandbagged bunker, waving a small Mexican flag and taunting the Vietcong to attack. God, Walker had laughed so hard that day, especially when his friend mooned the jungle’s distant tree line, even as bullets cracked through the air. Walker smiled at that memory and then put it back into its hole. He looked at Lupe, “To lose a loved one; there is nothing more horrible. I’m so sorry.”

             Lupe nodded, her dark eyes hard, boring into him. Uneasiness scratched at his brain; why did she make him feel this way?

             “How is your mother?”

             “Mom’s not well right now. That’s why I’m here. If Mom felt better she’d be talking to you, not me.”

             “I’m saddened to hear this. Does she still sing? Rico used to play her cassette tapes every night when we were in Nam. Ah, the way she could sing Crimson and Clover. What a marvelous voice. You can’t imagine how much her tapes meant to me.”

             “Mom doesn’t sing anymore, not since Dad died.”

             “I never met Ruth. She was just a beautiful girl in Rico’s photos, and a magical voice on his cassette tapes. Ruth knew about me because Rico wrote her, and in her letters, she ordered me to keep him safe, and she threatened me with terrible consequences if I ever let Rico get hurt. We were almost a threesome; Rico and me suffering in some stinking hooch together, and Ruth’s voice to soften the pain.” Walker grimaced as his memories warred with his heart’s barriers. “You must give Ruth my regards.”

             “You could do that yourself, you know. All you have to do is pick up the phone.”

             Walker shrugged off the harshness biting her words. What did Lupe want? Walker knew he could bore Lupe for hours with ‘back-in-the-day’ stories but she was not in his office to hear about her parents. He leaned forward and asked, “How can I help you?”