The Island of Forgotten Gods: Chapters 9–15

Past a decrepit strip mall, up a too-steep hill, and the asphalt-cement town was behind us, gave way to pavement and unkempt grasses, trees and dark hills in the distance.

Past a decrepit strip mall, up a too-steep hill, and the asphalt-cement town was behind us, gave way to pavement and unkempt grasses, trees and dark hills in the distance.

He walked along the periphery of his fence, and we followed, cigar smoke trailing him.

Tío led us to a shack deep into his backyard, made of corrugated aluminum and wood slapped together.

“This is the other thing no one realizes. The four-legged version of the chupacabra, the one that ended up being a diseased dog—that was the chupacabra they found in the rest of Latin America. Not here. Ours has always been described as a bat, a gargoyle, or an alien.”

I stood up on the pedals, head held high, feeling the inimitable Puerto Rican breeze tickling my entire body as we whooshed down the long hill, fields on either side of us dotted with horses here and there that were actually visible thanks to the pale glow from above.

Nessi let out a slow whistle, like she wanted us to harmonize with it. Instead, the creature scuttled over to a tree, its shadow peeking out from behind the trunk.

For the next thirty seconds, there was just our breathing and the silence of the balmy night.

As if reading my mind, Abuela boomed out, “Nico, ven aca.” That’s all the invitation I needed to escape that nexus of negative energy. I shot up and strode over to her bedroom.

“Things are not good with Titi and Tío.” Kira and Nessi’s parents. That sounded like the understatement of the century. “The divorce is not going well.”

Now imagine taking those crayons and coloring rows of connected concrete houses with them—and the only rule was that you couldn’t use the same color twice until you’d used all of them. So you’re walking through a psychedelic tropical rainbow, but when you look down, you realize the street is all blue cobblestones (imported from Spain five hundred years ago, BTW).

“If we run into it again, Nico. Big, huge, ginormous if. Okay, vamonos,” Kira said, pointing toward our destination. “If this Hermancito guy is as classic as they say he is, he’s a prime first interview.”

“It’s the same reason we were destroyed by the hurricane. And before that, Zika. And the economy. And corrupt politicians. Now, an exodus. Boricuas are leaving the island by the thousands. Why?”

“It’s the same reason we were destroyed by the hurricane. And before that, Zika. And the economy. And corrupt politicians. Now, an exodus. Boricuas are leaving the island by the thousands. Why?”

“It’s the same reason we were destroyed by the hurricane. And before that, Zika. And the economy. And corrupt politicians. Now, an exodus. Boricuas are leaving the island by the thousands. Why?”