Mañanaland: Chapters 1–3

He moved his hand to mimic the river’s erratic path as it circled the islets and giant boulders.

Why was Río Bobinado so indecisive?

“Once...” he whispered, "...a gargantuan serpent as wide as twenty houses and as long as three states could not decide whether to slither west toward the ocean or east toward the mountains.”

"As soon as the serpent chose one direction, the other seemed far more appealing. Back and forth it went, side-winding across the earth, its body leaving a huge chasm in its wake. The chasm eventually filled with rain and became the river.”

This was his favorite spot to make up stories and wonder about big and bewildering things: How long it would take to grow up and become a man, if he would ever see what lay beyond the horizon, and why his mother left and whether he’d ever meet her.

He pushed Papá’s words aside and gazed out at the village. The more prominent houses—greens, yellows, blues—hugged the riverbanks.

Citrus orchards and grape fields bordered the outskirts of town. Nestled in the foothills on dirt roads, modest white stone cottages perched like patient doves at roost.

Citrus orchards and grape fields bordered the outskirts of town. Nestled in the foothills on dirt roads, modest white stone cottages perched like patient doves at roost.

He let his gaze continue upward toward a jagged cliff where a stone tower loomed. Everyone called the stronghold La Reina Gigante, the giant queen, because she looked like the most powerful piece on a chessboard.

The palace surrounding La Reina Gigante had once been majestic, too. But that was decades before the cannons of ancient armies demolished the roof, an earthquake unsteadied the walls, and a war in the neighboring country of Abismo forced legions of people to flee a dictator, using the ruins as a safe place to hide.

Some said these “hidden ones” were poor innocents—women and children. Others said they were malicious criminals, filthy beggars, and the unwanted.

No one had ever seen a hidden one to know for sure. But it was rumored that their spirits returned each year on the wings of the peregrine falcon.

Sometimes when heavy mist shrouded the hills and Santa Maria fell silent, their ghosts could be heard whispering prayers to the giant queen for her protection and guidance, as if she was a saint or a guardian angel.

The entire property around La Reina Gigante and the ruins was fenced, abandoned, and off-limits. Only Papá had permission from the mayor to commandeer the rubble to build new bridges.

Max picked up the ball and threw it at the parapet, letting it ricochet back so he could catch it.

Max picked up the ball and threw it at the parapet, letting it ricochet back so he could catch it.

“Bravo!” Papá yelled. “Don’t unsettle any of the facing though. Or I’ll have repairs.” His cheeks flushed with ruddy circles and his forehead wrinkled from his usual troubled frown.

Before Papá could finish, a falcon swooped overhead, low enough that both he and Max ducked. Its sickle-shaped wings were splayed and taut.

The head and hooked bill stretched forward, baring a white neck and speckled breast. They shaded their eyes, mesmerized by the silent flight.

Chuy ran a hand over his shorn head. “Besides, I don’t want anyone to confuse you and me.”

“The great what?” said Max. “Fanfarrón?”
All the boys laughed because it was true. He was a braggart.

The boys jeered and quickly sorted teams.

Max and Ortiz went to opposite ends of the field where makeshift goalie cages had been hammered together from wood scraps.

Then Max, Ortiz, Gui, and Chuy huddled around an old water spigot sticking up from the ground and gulped long drinks.

The falcon sat on a branch, chest puffed, preening its feathers.

As they inched closer, the falcon opened her wings and lifted in a languid, elegant arc, her yellow legs like two spent arrows tucked tightly beneath a fanned tail.

In a somber voice, Gui said, “She has brought the ghosts of the hidden ones. That’s what my brother says.”

Chuy picked up a stick, too, and fenced with an imaginary attacker. “The guardians wore disguises and were invincible. No matter the danger, they carried on to help those in need.”

The clinics had the reputation of being skill builders—drills and scrimmages under the watchful eye of coaches all day, five days a week.

Solemnly, the boy nodded, then returned to the marble game.