Gods of Jade and Shadow - Silvia Moreno-Garcia Page 0,126
to figure out whether New Orleans or Quebec is more appetizing. What do you think?” he asked her.
“I don’t know anything about either.”
“Do you like gumbo, that’s the question.”
“I don’t know what that is.”
“Want to taste it?”
“Taste,” the raven said. It hopped down from Loray’s shoulder and onto the back seat of the automobile.
“Are you asking me to tag along?” she told him.
“Well, you’re in my automobile.”
“Is it your automobile if you stole it?”
“Right of possession, girlie,” he said cheerily.
Casiopea ran a hand down the dashboard, considering the situation. She did need a ride, and she wasn’t too inclined to remain in Tijuana, even though she had not planned her next stop. Going home was out of the question. She wanted to remain in motion.
“Why would you take me with you?” she asked.
“For a lark. Also, I can’t read a map to save my life. Can you read maps?”
“Of course,” she said. She had spent enough time contemplating Grandfather’s atlas and tracing routes with her fingertips.
“Good. I have no sense of direction.”
“You called me a soiled parcel,” she reminded him.
“Lady Tun, I tried to make it up to you by getting you nice dresses. By the way, very fetching skirt. I appreciate someone with a sense of color.”
Casiopea wasn’t ready to concede. She let out a hmpf and gingerly placed her hands on her lap.
“So…want to go to New Orleans or Quebec?”
“I don’t know if I want to make up my mind now,” Casiopea said.
“Take it from me. Now is always the answer. Besides, do you have anything better to do? Mope around for a decade or two?”
Casiopea drummed her fingers against her skirt and chewed her lip. The dramatic poetry she’d read would have called for this and more. There was sadness in her, of course, but she didn’t wish to crack like fine china either. She could not wither away. In the world of the living, one must live. And had this not been her wish? To live. Truly live.
Loray took out a silver flask from his jacket and pressed it against his lips. He offered her a swig, and she declined.
“Should you do that? Drive with one hand?” she asked, alarmed.
“I’m a demon, remember? Don’t worry,” he replied, tipping his head back.
“I know you’re a demon. That’s why I’m worried.”
“Oh, small potatoes. I won’t steal your soul, promise.”
Casiopea slumped back against the car seat, watching his hands upon the wheel, the feet on the pedals. She’d wanted to drive an automobile; she had confessed this truth to Hun-Kamé. Here was an automobile, at last.
“Would you teach me?” she asked.
“What? To steal souls?” he said, raising an eyebrow at her.
“To drive!”
“What if you crash the car?”
“It looks like a straight line,” she said, scoffing and pointing at the dusty path they were traveling. There didn’t seem to be any art to moving the vehicle down the road. He certainly handled it in a casual way.
“Same with life, and then it branches off.”
“I want to drive.”
“But now?” he asked, looking doubtful.
“Now is always the answer.”
Loray had a constant look of mischief about him, and her answer made him give her an even more mischievous smile.
“Got me there,” he admitted. “But if you drive, who is going to handle the maps?”
“Show me how to drive a bit, and I’ll show you how to read a map properly.”
He removed his cap and smirked. “After this you must call me your friend, you know?”
“We’ll see.”
He stopped the automobile, just stopped in the middle of the road and got out. She pushed her door open and they switched places. Casiopea sat very straight, contemplating the wheel. The sun had reached the highest point in the sky, and there wasn’t a single shadow in sight, the desert burning bright, the sky a canopy of blue. No other vehicles were on the road. She felt bold.
“What do I do first?” she asked.
“First,” said the raven.
Loray took a sip from his flask and mimed the turning of the automobile keys, then he explained how the vehicle worked. Casiopea chuckled as the automobile began to move. It was a long road, and she feared the automobile would get away from her and she wouldn’t know how to stop, but she smiled.
There is no such thing as a homogeneous Mayan language. There are twenty-nine recognized Mayan languages spoken throughout Mexico and Central America. The way these languages are represented in Latin script has changed over time. Therefore, if you open a nineteenth-century Mayan dictionary you