Previous: Chapter Ten: The Ghosts of Faro Bagdad
The ferry slackened speed, switching from gliding on hydrofoils to conventional displacement buoyancy. The captain engaged reverse engines to stop, and the ferry was presently lashed safely to the Progreso Quay.
A few moments later, the massive cargo doors unfolded. Thanks to Jo’s stack of magical UNESCO paperwork, and a call to the state government of Yucatán, the Rocket Rancher’s caravan, with its mixed and peculiar cargo of people and gear, took only two hours to clear Customs.
Even Feliz had never been to Mérida, so the group relied on GPS to reach the home of Feliz’s cousin and family, a lovely house which seemed to grow as a living thing from the green coastal hillside overlooking the Gulf. MaryLiz marveled at the Perrera-Perez’s front garden, filled with cultivars of native flower species.
After dinner, the ranchers brought the Perrera-Perezes up to date. Frances made an effort to speak Spanish, but even with Feliz’s intervention, conversation lapsed between English and Spanish.
Feliz summed up. “So, what we’d like to do, while we’re here, is to talk to people here in Mérida, in this part of Yucatán. Does anyone know stories of mysterious creatures that might be our wallabies? It even could be a family story from generations ago. We don’t know how long they were here.”
MaryLiz added, “Of course, it could be that we don’t find anything. That would be valuable information, too, it would let us know we’re looking in the wrong place.”
Gaby was Feliz’s cousin’s spouse, and from the region. “I think the best thing would be to go to the market. We should leave now, before it closes. I can explain on the way.”
MaryLiz said, “Well, okay, should we drive?”
Gaby smiled. “The quickest way is through the back of the house.”