CHAPTER 17: BOTO

Finally, Obadiah's career was turning around. He smiled at the red lines that marked a topographical map—the first accurate account of the Barrier's layout, however partial. And it was all thanks to one agent.

"When can you get back out there, Mano?" he asked.

Agent Hyde's discomfort didn't go unnoticed; every time he reentered the Safe Zone, he looked paler than a Jincho. "Isn't this enough information?"

Obadiah smiled across the war table towards where his subordinate sat. The younger Hispanic instantly straightened up.

"I mean," Agent Hyde added, "you already know more about the land than you have in the last five decades. It should be more than enough to set up—"

"Oh, Mano," Obadiah interjected. He rounded the war table with a sigh then wrapped an arm around Agent's Hyde's neck. In a friendly manner, of course. "You aren't backing out, are you?"

"N—no, Señor."

"Por la maceta! I'd hate for you to join Rizzo. I hear those scientists have done a nasty number on him. And he only stole a rock. Imagine what they'd do to the first human who can withstand the Barrier's effects, hum?" The skin that Obadiah's elbow pinched heated up as he squeezed Agent Hyde. "I prefer you stick with me. Yeah?"

"Rizzo didn't steal just any rock," Hyde answered.

Obadiah chuckled. "That charlatán had balls to run with something so precious. But it returned. And our groundwork here must be perfect once Bishop's brains figure out how the Davvu Stone functions."

"It'll take more than three months to decipher that."

"The science division is doing its part. Focus on your own."

"That'd be easier if I could at least talk to mi chica."

"You know the deal, Mano." Obadiah grinned, folding his arm tighter. "No reward without effort."

"I've been helping you map shit forever. How much longer—"

The senior agent flexed his large bicep just enough to silence his subordinate. "Trees make satellite imaging impossible. The Barrier obscures all thermal readings. The few Strike Teams we deploy hardly remain standing. And estoy encabronado!" Obadiah threw his head back with a groan. "We've been blind too long. Now we have you. So you'll map for however long it takes you to upturn every leaf, report every path, every river, every landmark, every shred of life you see. Comprende?"

Agent Hyde kept his tan features controlled, although his dark eyes betrayed him. "Sí," he whispered.

"Uva!" Obadiah released the younger Hispanic then tapped the war table with a pocket knife that he pulled from his belt. "Let's talk about the next sector then, hm?"

Coyolxauhqui could not possibly suggest so many outlandish requests that the word 'come' should make Leonardo deadpan. The turtle-man eyed her hand, unmoving.

"Ayotl smart," said Tlaloc. He shifted along the bird-nest-like roots exposed above the swamp waters. "No time for play. Focus on Xelihuiyan."

"Huehuei Ometeotl." Splashing sounded as Izel swam behind Coyo. "You want guard us? Guard."

The warrior scrunched his fat nose, avoiding the water that the skinhead sprayed upwards. "We no children anymore."

"If Tlaloc only complain, why come?" Coyo interjected. She eyed the man, challenged him.

He stood down with a scoff then climbed to a higher root when Leo spoke up, "What are Botos anyway?"

"Monsters," Tlaloc said—a grumble barely heard over Izel's backstrokes.

"Tlaloc fear Boto," Izel told Leo.

The man turned redder than usual. "They violent!"

"You unkind. No wonder Botos want drown you."

Leo's head whipped toward Tlaloc as he huffed. "Th—they tried to drown you?"

"Seasons ago," Izel answered, floating. "When Tlaloc young. He never swim again. But water safe, Leo. Promise. Boto keep tecuixin away."

"What's a—"

Tlaloc spoke over the turtle-man. "Alligator. Boto, uh"—he paused in search of the English word—"hit. Beat. Kill."

"Nonsense," Coyo said in Nahuatl while waving. She grabbed Leo, urging him towards where the roots faded below the swamp's brackish surface. "Boto kind if Leo kind. Trust Coyo."

Leo wanted to; his eyes said as much. Still, he planted a heel and pulled back.

"Ometeotl's love. Swim!"

Who knew when Izel had left the water? The skinhead materialized behind Leonardo then shoved him. His body rammed Coyo, clipping his chin against her forehead, and they tumbled off the roots before the woman had the chance to catch her breath.

A sudden coldness assaulted her body. It invaded her nose, stole what little air she had left, and her nerves burned as she tried swimming around Leo's front shell. Had he always been so massive? She tapped his bicep, bubbles streaming from her face. The turtle-man wasted no time in wrapping an arm around her waist and surfacing with the grace only a water animal possessed.

"Yo—you okay?" he asked.

Coyo convulsed with a cough, saying, "Cualli, cualli."

"You sure?"

"Quema. Izel!" The Chieftain glared through matted, wet hair at her best friend.

The skinhead, already back in the water, shrugged. "He swim now, yes?"

"That was reckless!" yelled Tlaloc in Nahuatl. He looked more displeased than the wounded party and hung from a weak root as if he had frozen seconds away from diving into the swamp.

Coyo smiled at him. "Coyo okay, Tlaloc," she replied, also in Nahuatl. His expression softened until she added, "Leo helped."

"Yes," he grumbled, "I see."

"Should I"—Leo hesitated, hand twitching around Coyo's waist—"let go? This swamp is deeper than expected."

True; even in shallower areas, Coyo had no hope of touching bottom. But she prided herself on being an excellent swimmer when not weighted down by a giant body. She pushed away from Leo then trod water with a lopsided grin.

"Boto come," she said. "Leo enjoy."

The turtle-man made a face. "You've said that about a lot of things these last few weeks."

"Coyo be wrong?"

"Multiple times. Particularly the one with the beehive."

Coyo flinched when Leo rubbed his neck. Thank Ometeotl its swelling had eased. "Coyo thought hive…old."

"If it was old, why were we looking for—?"

Izel splashed Leo, snorting as he sputtered water. "Less talk, more swim."

Leonardo stopped protesting at last. He followed the women to a less obscured section in the swamp, where Coyolxauhqui signaled for silence, eased her movements, exhaled, and then closed her eyes. She opted not to tell Leo why; his experience should be as untainted as hers was in childhood. She recalled the subtle current, the buzzing insects, the contrast between the chilled water and humid air. And seasons later, the anticipation of a Boto call disturbing all that left her grinning.

"Shit!" Leo smacked the water's surface as he jerked sideways. His head twisted back and forth, making Coyo laugh. "It—I"t's not funny! Something—"

Coyo touched the turtle-man's cheek with her fingertips, and he froze. "No fear, Leo," she whispered. "No think. No worry. Feel. Remember Zaddir's words."

Leo released a shuddering sigh in reply. His eye ridges remained furrowed, yet he tolerated a Boto when it brushed against him and Coyo. The Chieftain loved the sensation of its hide—a smooth, slick defense that felt stronger than bone. The animal was powerful, she admitted, except caution would not keep her stationary.

"Hold breath," Coyo told Leo.

She submerged with him and heard Izel do likewise. Below, visibility was akin to searching through Chicha, only with less burning in the eyes, albeit slightly. Any pain was worth the view, however. The Botos' chirps sounded from all around like laughing children as they barrel-rolled in and out of the murky depths. Leo watched, wide-eyed, cheeks puffed with air and arms still. Perhaps he found their length surprising; it matched that of two K'ekchi men. Or maybe he debated their coloring, which adopted an orange tint from the swamp. Should she tell him they were pink?

'No,' she decided. 'He will see when they come closer.'

She need not wait long. A juvenile Boto neared Leonardo with jerking head motions. Its needle-like snout revealed jagged teeth, but Coyo floated beside the turtle-man, reassuring him with strokes over his bicep. The Boto chipped as it nuzzled its way up Leo's front shell and he stiffened as the Chieftain guided his hand across the Boto's flipper.

Another Boto joined. Although Coyo felt Leo recoil when it emerged from the darkness, she held firm. She shook her head, gesturing towards the animals. Mother and child, both of which sought attention. They wiggled from fin to tail, and Coyo shared a smile with Izel when they began nibbling the turtle-man's legs. Secretly, she hoped they would refrain from drawing blood. Boto did enjoy eating turtles.

Great Ometeotl. She shook the idea from her mind. Nothing would happen; the pair only wanted to play. Judging by Leonardo's smile, he did as well. So who was she to deny them fun?

Leonardo met Huitzilopochtli's stare from his hut's bed mat, almost forgetting the dull sting over his shin.

"Boto swimming?" the tribesman asked.

"Yeah," answered Leo. "She took me to a swamp. It smelled terrible, and I'm sure more than one kind of bug drew blood, but…"

"But?"

Leo stared at his hands. They held a lingering enchantment from his encounter with the Botos like wet silk that left them tingling. Usually, when his heart raced in the presence of wild animals, that animal was either bent on eating or maiming him.

"It was incredible," he said. "They were powerful. Graceful. Almost like"—dare he say it?—"ninjas. I could never experience that at home."

"Boto revered by K'ekchi," Huitzi added. "They symbolize childhood, innocence. Many, like Coyo, find them soothing when troubled."

"She mentioned that. It's part of the reason we…" Leo trailed off, hands clenching. While he no longer felt the Botos, the boyish glee they uprooted remained like helium inside his body. "I felt fifteen years younger. I—I had thought Coyo was exaggerating about that."

"Seems you know her well." The tribesman grimaced. "But reckless girl failed to consider Boto diet."

"Oh, this?" Leo lifted his bloody shin. "I moved too quickly. That's all." Huitzi shook head, so the mutant added, "Don't worry. It's nothing compared to falling out of a tree or being bit by some super spider."

"Forgive me, Leonardo, no concern for you. Coyo left village without warning, was impulsive."

"We just went for a swim."

"Children swim. Adults contribute."

"Now you sound like Tlaloc."

"Cuamahui." Huitzi glared, drilling into Leo with orange eyes and curt words. "You troubled. I only imagine battle in your mind. That said, Coyo spend much time with turtle-man. She trust too much." He meant Zaddir; Leo was confident, even if neither the mutant nor Chieftain told anyone except Izel of their meeting. "Coyo no think of struggles. She occupy mind with distractions."

The smile that had lasted for so long on Leo's face fell as the joy inside him hardened. "You saying I'm her excuse to avoid what's important? Do you regret bringing me here?"

"No," Huitzi growled, thumping his staff. When he looked at Leo again, the mutant noticed how much skinnier his tattooed face had become. "Turtle-man need help. Coyo does, too. She follower in position of leader. Make matters worse."

"If that's such a concern, why hasn't anyone stepped up to show her what leadership is? All I've seen are people who scold her."

"Understand: Coyo knows leadership, but no want to grow up. To win against Yaoqui, naive sister must be merciless. Otherwise, tribe doomed."

That's right, the unsaid war that hung over K'ekchi Village. Coyo had mentioned it in passing on numerous occasions, and yet Leo never questioned it. For some reason, today, the idea felt nagging. He thought of the sadness behind the Chieftain's eyes whenever she would change the subject or walk away. Had it been callous of him to ignore the pain for so long?

'Blinded by yer own shit, eh, Freak?'

Leo clenched his teeth, focusing harder on Huitzi's grim expression. He hadn't seen Donald since yesterday and wanted to keep it that way.

"Please," continued Huitzi, "if turtle-man Coyo's friend, urge her to be responsible. Help her. Like she help you."

The tribesman turned without giving the mutant a chance to reply. He left the Library just when Coyolxauhqui and Yolotli entered. The siblings ignored one another—as if they had already fought—and Yo squawked as he landed on Leonardo's head.

"You upset we went swimming too?" he asked. Kneading talons answered him, massaging with their sharp tips. "Uh, ow!"

"Leo amo cualli!" Yo screeched. His wings beat air against Leo as the mutant flailed an arm. He lost the battle, though, and retreated to the rafters with fluffed feathers.

Leo sent the McCaw a pointed look. "You can stay longer once you learn to be softer."

"Is no bad," Coyo said.

"Says the woman with talon scars along her shoulders."

"Leo notice?"

Should he not have? They were faint, yet evident. And Leo glossed over them as Coyo kneeled at his feet.

The mutant attempted to distract himself; however, he found the task difficult. Not because he considered Coyo's touch intrusive or alien, but because every time she brushed his skin, a weird jolt ran through his body and left his chest tight for hours afterward. He never got such a feeling when April touched him. So it made little sense how something as simple as applying Tetani paste could raise his body temperature to feverish heights.

"Leo?"

Leonardo jerked his head down to met Coyolxauhqui's frown. "Uh, yeah?"

"Coyo sorry."

"It'll heal. It's not your fault."

"But—"

The mutant faced the tribeswoman, despite the heat across his face. "Really. I just…panicked. I—I thought the big one was going to hurt you."

Coyo ducked her head, and Leo heard her stifle a giggle. The sound sent a new jolt through him—not entirely unpleasant yet also unexplainable.

"Hey, Coyo?" he added.

The Chieftain glanced up through her drying hair.

"If—if you want to know I, uh, I'd like to tell you where I come from."

Coyo flashed a smile that about stopped the mutant's heart. "Will he?"

"Yeah." Leo returned the tribeswoman's smile, though not as brightly. "You've trusted me with a lot, and I feel ready if you—"

"Quema! Yes! Please!" Coyo smiled wider, an oddity for one with such a petite mouth. She sat at attention on the floor, watching, and Leo admitted to a little nervousness as he continued.

"Al—alright. As my brother Mikey would put it: it all started twenty-some years ago with a can of ooze…"

A/N: Hope you enjoyed some therapy fluff and Leo FINALLY talking more. Depending on matters, I may be able to wrap this story up by the new year. We'll see.

Duckie - I'm both proud and sad to read that review. Proud the emotion struck you but also sad that it roused bad memories/feelings. *lots of hugs*
Sciencegal - Zaddir has been fun to write with. :)