Panama Pursuit

  PANAMA

  PURSUIT

  The Shenanigans Series—Book Four

  ANDREAS OERTEL

  Praise for the Shenanigans Series

  “A fabulously fun series.” —The Literary Word

  “Oertel keeps the tension mounting…leaving fans eager for the next installment.” —Booklist

  “A fun, engaging series for adventure and history buffs.” —Quill & Quire

  “It is Nancy Drew meets The Goonies with a twist.”—Children’s Literature

  “Two latter-day Hardy boys and a Nancy Drew may just awaken the Indiana Jones in young readers and teach a bit of history at the same time.” —Kirkus Reviews

  This one’s dedicated to you.

  Thanks for reading the Shenanigans Series!

  PROLOGUE

  ISTHMUS OF PANAMA, 1513 AD

  “WILL YOU FINISH the carving today?” Thiago asked his grandfather.

  The old man ignored Thiago and wiggled his stool closer to the window, allowing the sunlight to fall directly on the skull again. The giant crystal seemed to gather the sun’s rays and shoot them out as a thousand brilliant shards of light.

  Thiago cleared his throat and tried once more. “Will it be ready today?”

  His grandfather opened his hand and held it out to Thiago. “Perhaps,” he said.

  The thirteen-year-old boy’s eyes widened, and he placed another pinch of fine sand in the middle of the callused palm. This was not the reply he usually heard—Perhaps. Could his grandfather finally be finished? Perhaps. What an amazing development!

  His grandfather dropped the sand inside the left eye socket, spit on a small square of bat fur, and began polishing the quartz with his thumb. Thiago couldn’t believe it. Today might be the day. After six years of work, the copy of the crystal skull may finally be ready. The skull on his grandfather’s lap looked identical to the skull he had been replicating for months—at least to Thiago. But never to his grandfather.

  “Perhaps,” Thiago mumbled to himself, staring at the original skull on the pedestal under the window. He knew his grandfather’s two previous attempts to replicate that skull had failed. His father had told him stories about those early copies and how the enormous crystals shattered after several years of painstaking work. The fragments from those experiments were buried under the work area where they sat. Thiago glanced down at the many layers of fur on the floor, meant to protect the skull should it ever slip from his grandfather’s hands. And that had happened—at least four times—but the skull thankfully wasn’t damaged.

  Suddenly, his grandfather stopped polishing. He passed Thiago the new skull—the copy—and gently lifted the true skull with both hands. They sat side by side, each holding one of the human-sized crystal skulls. “Can you see a difference?” Grandfather asked.

  “No,” he quickly told his grandfather, “they look exactly the same.”

  Grandfather sighed. “Please examine them carefully, Thiago. They must be alike. My dreams were clear.”

  Thiago was ashamed. After the countless hours his grandfather spent creating the skull, he should at least pretend to scrutinize and compare the two pieces. He hefted the skull and held it close to his face. Rotating it slowly, he admired his grandfather’s work.

  The eyes were carved beautifully—spaced equally and set to the same depth as the original. The empty sockets stared back with guarded shadows that seemed to hold the same secrets locked inside the original skull. And the teeth—they alone had taken over a year—were a perfect match to the teeth in the skull resting in his grandfather’s rough hands. They sparkled and grinned with menace at Thiago.

  Not wanting to hear the story of his grandfather’s dreams again, Thiago carefully swapped skulls with the old man and began examining the secret skull—the real skull. Sure, the stories of his grandfather’s visions had enthralled and entertained him as a young boy, but he was thirteen now and almost a man.

  Had Grandfather wasted all those years creating this copy? Thiago wondered, looking at the head. Or did the spirits really demand he make a replica of this?

  His family and his village had always been responsible for protecting the skull, but it wasn’t until Thiago was born that his grandfather’s dreams began. In those dreams he was instructed to make a copy of the skull they were protecting. Apparently, a fake skull would be needed to trick a great foreigner into leaving this village in peace. And they needed to be left in peace so that they could continue to guard the original skull until the day—

  “Well?” grandfather asked, pulling him back to the present. “What do you think?”

  Thiago decided to be honest. “The shape of the skull is a perfect match... but... but the crystal of your skull is slightly hazy compared with the true skull, which appears to be more pure—more clear.”

  Grandfather nodded.

  “But you have matched its shape perfectly,” Thiago repeated. “And no one will be able to identify the copy.”

  His grandfather began wrapping the fake skull in puma fur. “So you believe it will fool the Spanish?”

  Thiago stopped trying to search for the skull’s secret hidden deep within the crystal. “Yes, especially the Spanish. They should be easy to trick.”

  Although Thiago had never seen the strange people from across the water, he’d heard many fascinating stories from the other tribes that lived and traded along the narrow isthmus. The Chibchan people reported that the Spanish were loud and possessed enormous boats. The Maya from the northern forests said they were violent and greedy. But it was the Ahshmitohren who insisted the Spanish were dumb, describing how they wore steel hats and far too many clothes in the hot jungle. Thiago always thought that was especially funny because other tribes often joked that it was the Ahshmitohren who were not very bright.

  Doctalubee, Thiago’s uncle, had confirmed some of these observations only days ago. Upon his return to the village from a hunting trip, he reported excitedly that he saw many giant ships. Those ships stayed well away from shore, but smaller vessels were quickly lowered and used to ferry hundreds of Spanish to the beaches. “And,” Doctalubee had said, “some were indeed wearing clothes made of shiny metal.”

  One of the youngest Spanish sailors had wandered off the beach and Doctalubee followed him. Feeling brave, he approached the lad and attempted to communicate with him. Perhaps the boy was sent to look for a water supply and Doctalubee could help. But the youth shook with fear and ran back to the beach. Thiago wished he could have been there to witness the encounter.

  “When the Spanish come here,” Grandfather pointed out the window at the stone homes of their small village, “we must be ready.”

  Thiago nodded. He knew what his grandfather intended to do.

  But the old man repeated the plan anyway. “We will ask the Spanish not to curse our village with their evil ailments.” He lightly touched the bumps on his forehead that had mysteriously appeared that day. “And in exchange, I will give them this magical skull.” He tapped the fake skull and smiled at the boy.

  “Just as your dream foretold, right, Grandfather?” Thiago asked. His tribe, the Chocoan, were the bravest people in the land, but they were terrified of the strange diseases the foreigners brought with them. If the stories were true, their horrible pox often reached villages long before they arrived—like the spreading smoke of a wildfire. “Their clouds of death will pass us over when they receive the new skull, yes?”

  Grandfather shrugged. “That part of my vision was not clear,” he admitted for the first time. “In my dreams I was told a powerful foreigner would be tricked with the skull. If not the Spanish and th
eir foul ailments, who is there to deceive?”

  Thiago didn’t like the sound of that at all. His grandfather had always been confident in the meaning of his dreams and in the purpose of the fake skull, but now he didn’t seem so sure.

  The old man coughed violently and spat out the window. He didn’t look well today. His face was pale and waxen, and the bumps on his head had formed blisters and were beginning to ooze an ugly pus.

  A wave of fear suddenly washed over Thiago, and he wanted to change the subject. Still holding the real skull on his lap, he said, “Please show me the secret inside this skull again.” He’d been twisting and turning the crystal, but he couldn’t find the symbols.

  “I will show you,” his grandfather said weakly, “but first you must retell the story.”

  Thiago didn’t think he’d be shown the skull’s secret without having to recite the legend, but it was worth a try. Although Grandfather was old, he could not be fooled as easily as the Spanish or the Ahshmitohren.

  “A long time ago,” Thiago began, “a man appeared in our village with this skull and—”

  “How long ago?” Grandfather interrupted.

  Thiago thought for a moment. “One thousand, five hundred and... and forty-eight moons ago.”

  He nodded. “And where was he found?”

  “He arrived near the stones—near the three stone pillars.” Thiago pointed outside and across the bay.

  “Yes. Continue.”

  “The man gave our ancestors the skull and said we must keep it safe and protect it until it is needed. He said it can never be sold or traded. The man spoke our language, but very poorly. He said eight thousand full moons will come and go before its message can be understood, but when it is finally understood it will help all the tribes of all the world. The stranger said it must be protected until then.”

  “And who must keep this crystal skull safe?” Grandfather asked.

  Thiago had been made to repeat the story many times and the words flowed from his mouth with little thought. “Our people, our village, our family.”

  The old man smiled. “Yes. Especially our family.”

  “Will you show me the proper way to hold it now?”

  Thiago’s grandfather took the skull and let the sun shine directly on the crystal forehead. A rainbow appeared on the mud-brick wall behind them. Thiago admired the colourful lines for a moment, but he had seen many natural rainbows and was more interested in seeing the symbols inside the skull. His grandfather turned the skull and examined the dent where an ear might be.

  “There!” Grandfather said. “Look right there.”

  Thiago strained to see the tiny people he hadn’t seen in months. “I can’t see...”

  “Don’t try so hard,” his grandfather said, steadying the skull with both hands. “Let your eyes relax... you will...”

  “Yes!” Thiago hissed. “I see it now.” The image of a man and a woman popped into focus and seemed to float inside the centre of the crystal. The colourful arc of a rainbow stretched over the two. “What does it mean?”

  His grandfather pulled the skull away. “It does not matter what the message means. It only matters that we protect it.” As he wrapped the special skull, the old man noticed more bumps appearing on his arms.

  Thiago saw his grandfather was deep in thought, so he kept quiet.

  “You are not scared of the forest or the jungle animals, are you?” Grandfather asked suddenly.

  Thiago quickly shook his head. “No. I am brave like my father, and like you”

  “Then I—” The old man coughed violently. “Then I,” he began again, “have an important task for you.”

  “What is it?” Thiago asked, eager for a mission.

  “I want you to take both skulls across the bay. Carry them to the three stones, hide them, and then wait there until someone comes for you. You may be alone for many days, but do not come back to the village unless... unless someone fetches you. Do you understand?”

  Thiago did his best to hide his disappointment. The assignment didn’t sound challenging at all. “Can I take Chachi and Kel-kel?” The trip would be a lot less dull, Thiago reasoned, if he could bring his two best friends.

  The old man thought for a minute. “Yes, take them. But tell no one else. Now hurry. Go before nightfall.” He gave Thiago both fur-wrapped packages and shooed him to the door. “And remember: the skulls must be protected—the future depends on it.”

  Chapter 1

  “I’M MUCH TOO nervous to sit,” Anna said. She lifted her legs, twisted away from the picnic table, and began pacing.

  Rachel got up too. “Come on,” she said to Anna, “we’ll show you Cody’s mom’s flower garden. She has some amazing roses.”

  Eric stood up to join the girls, but I yanked on his elbow and held him back. When Anna and Rachel had drifted out of earshot, I said, “What did your mom say?”

  Eric sat down again. “About going to Panama?”

  “Yeah,” I whispered. “You think she’ll let you and Rachel go?”

  “It’s hard to say, Code. But she probably will if your mom and dad are okay with it.”

  “That’s what I thought.”

  And that’s why we were all a bit edgy. You see, Anna’s dad, Dr. Bruno Wassler—I’ll call him Bruno from now on—was meeting in my house with our parents at that very moment. He was trying to convince them to let us go to Panama with him and Anna. If we were allowed to go, we would all hook up with Rudi—that’s Anna’s uncle—who was already working there on some kind of archaeological project in the jungle.

  Eric laughed. “My mom actually thought it was a joke when we told her we were invited on an archaeological trip. The emails proved we weren’t making stuff up, but it wasn’t till she spoke with your mom that she really took it seriously.”

  “Yeah,” I said, “those emails were pretty official looking.” I remembered my mom’s face when she saw all the travel documents and letters of support that Anna’s dad sent from Cambridge University. But what really surprised our parents was that he flew to Manitoba three days later (that is, today) to speak with them.

  “I wonder how Bruno’s interview is going?” Eric asked.

  I automatically looked over at the house. “I wouldn’t want to be in his shoes right now.”

  Bruno was a super nice, crazy-scientist-professor kind of guy, and I felt sorry for him. He’d have to do some pretty creative fibbing if our parents asked him why he wanted to take us on such a fancy field trip. I mean, he certainly couldn’t say that we all became friends after jumping into a wormhole to save his daughter, Anna. Sure, that was true, and it had all worked out in the end, but it’s just not the sort of story your average parent would believe.

  I suspected Bruno was inviting us to Panama as a way of saying thanks, for when we travelled back in time and rescued Anna. Plus, he probably also knew we were interested in archaeology and would enjoy a trip to an archaeological dig. That’s what archaeologists call big projects, by the way—digs.

  Anyway, the three of us really wanted to travel with Anna, and we hoped Bruno could talk our parents into letting us go. I had wanted to stick around the house to hear their conversation, but Mom firmly suggested we go outside for a while.

  Rachel and Anna returned to the picnic table and slipped back onto the benches.

  “Anna flew here all the way from England,” Rachel scolded, “and you guys are too lazy to walk around the yard with us.”

  “I’m saving my energy for Panama,” Eric shot back smartly.

  “You didn’t even know where Panama was when we got Anna’s first email,” Rachel said. “I had to find it for you in the atlas.”

  “I knew it was a country somewhere in that pinched, narrow part—somewhere between North America and South America.”

  “Tha
t’s why they call that area Central America,” I suggested, helpfully. “It’s between the two.”

  “Yeah, I knew Panama was in there somewhere,” Eric said, “I just wasn’t sure exactly which country it was.”

  “Riiiight,” Rachel said.

  “It’s true.” Eric blinked a few times like he always did when he wanted to look honest. “But all the names of the countries in that area sound the same.”

  “Okay,” Rachel said, “name one.”

  “The Banana Republic,” Eric said. “Banana sounds a lot like Panama.”

  “That is not a country, Eric,” Anna said frowning. Her English was perfect, but she spoke it with a German accent, because that’s where she was born—in Germany. Anna was the only person we knew who had travelled all over the world and lived in many countries. And right now she was living in England. “I believe that is a company that makes clothes.”

  We all laughed—especially Eric.

  I looked at my watch and stood up. “Well,” I said, “I suppose we should go inside and find out what they decided.”

  When we got to the back door, I took a deep breath and led my friends inside.

  Dad was leaning against the kitchen counter with his arms folded tightly across his chest. Eric and Rachel’s mom (Mrs. Summers), my mom, and Bruno were sitting around the kitchen table. Bruno looked hot and uncomfortable, and I don’t think the coffee he was sipping was helping him cool down or relax. He dabbed at his upper lip with the handkerchief he held tight in his hand.

  Everyone looked at us when we walked in.

  I made eye contact with my mom and she held a finger to her lips. Oops, I thought, we returned too soon. I glanced at my dad. He was now squinting and rubbing his chin, thinking hard. Yup, we were interrupting something important.

  Dad ignored us and said, “Okay, let me see if I have this all straight now. The contractors who have been working to widen and rebuild the Panama Canal recently found a bunch of interesting stuff.”