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The serenity of the empty bookstore was rattled by my mother's entrance.
"Creature?" she called out, banging the front door, its brass chimes clattering. "Are you here? Awful Thing?"
"Ye-es," I called out from the shop's back room.
"Lola, where are you?"
"Here in the office, Mom. Hold on."
"Well, don't keep me waiting. Did you get my message about those copies I wanted? Are they ready? The cab's waiting at the curb."
Juana Sanchez stood in the middle of the store, her long silver hair glinting in the brandy-colored shadows, a duffel bag slung on one arm, her tweed cape flicking behind her meaty shoulders. She began impatiently humming an off-key tune while I put a third edition of Jules Verne's Mysterious Island down onto my desk. Being slim-boned and curly-haired, I don't favor my mother much, except in my taste for unusual clothing. I gathered up my western-style petticoat, and with my old red Patsy Cline boots came stamping out from behind a stack of books and onto the main floor of The Red Lion, the shop I owned in Long Beach.
She stopped humming when she saw me. "There you are. What are you doing in the dark?"
I walked over to her, and she began to push down my springing black bangs with quick bats of her hand.
"Just wrapping a few things up," I said.
"Has the store been busy?" She brushed imaginary dust off my shoulders and began to smooth the wrinkles on my collar with hard jabs of her thumbs, and then she finally planted a beaky kiss on my cheek.
I laughed. "What do you think?"
"Don't be negative. Things will pick up. Though the less time you have for work, the more time you have for me. Or did you forget that I'm leaving tonight? I'll just bet you did. That's what comes from sitting inside this shop all day and night reading these bloody books, instead of every once in a while coming out with me to the bush! I've told you this before. A couple of days in the jungle -- that'll put your feet on the ground, Creature. That'll grow some hair on your chest. And maybe then you'll remember when your own mother is going to leave the country."
"I did remember. I was just about to start up with your Xeroxing."
She thinned her eyes at me. "Likely story."
"And I didn't think I was invited on this trip."
"Actually, you're not this time." She crush-hugged me around the waist. "Little vacation of my own that I've whipped up. Going to traipse around the haunts of old de la Cueva -- that route she took, when she was looking for the jade. Just for fun. I need some time away." My mother cleared her throat. "But don't confuse the issue. I was speaking generally."
"That's what you were saying last night -- you're going to follow Beatriz de la Cueva's trail. And de la Rosa's, too, I guess. Right?"
"I suppose. But let's not talk about Tomas. It's too sad -- how he died."
"Pneumonia."
"So they say. Though no one seems to know where he's buried, do they?"
"Not that I've heard."
She turned away from me and studied some of the books on the walls. "I think your father is grieving a little, strange as that sounds. And it's got to be rough on Yolanda. She'll be missing her dad."
"I feel bad about it. I haven't talked with Yolanda in years -- "
"Yes. But we decided that it was better that way."
"I know."
"Though we all were friends, once."
I touched her shoulder. "I'm sorry, Mom."
"Let's just stick to de la Cueva," she said, in a firm voice.
"Fine by me. So. Old Governor Beatriz -- "
"She was the first European to go looking for the Stone, you know."
"I do know," I said. "I practically know the story better than you. I'm thinking about translating it into English."
"You are?" The corners of her mouth tugged up approvingly.
"I could desktop publish it, then sell it here, in the store."
"It's an amusing idea -- but I still doubt you know the story as well as I do."
"Good Lord, there was the legend of the magic queen of all jades, which could give you absolute power if you got your hands on it -- "
"But it also wound up destroying its possessors," she interrupted. "Any person who saw or touched the jade grew obsessed with it. At least two of its owners came to gruesome ends, and then it was hidden, and cursed by a witch. As the story goes, if anyone tried to steal it, the world would be destroyed by water and flame -- "
"No one was deterred by that threat, though," I said. "Especially the Europeans. In the Renaissance, there was a trip to the jungle, and a search for the Stone. Except it didn't go very well. There was the Maze of Deceit and the Maze of Virtue ... a lying slave ... some seriously naive Spaniards -- "
My mother raised her eyebrows. "All of which is why the work qualifies -- if I'm not mistaken -- as an Adventure. And so you should have it in stock, and be able to make me a copy of it."
"I do have it around here somewhere," I said. "It'll just take me a minute to Xerox it for you."
"And her Letters."
"I already copied the letters," I said, running off to get the book ...
The Queen Jade
Excerpted from The Queen Jade by Yxta Maya Murray
All rights reserved by the original copyright owners. Excerpts are provided for display purposes only and may not be reproduced, reprinted or distributed without the written permission of the publisher.
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