The Heliotropes

Miguel spent the next few weeks inside studying archeology. In fact, the only time he got out into the sunlight was to check his adobe brick. All of that was about to change.
“Miguel,” interrupted his father.
“Yes?”
“I think it’s time you got out in the sun for a bit.”
“But I’m studying.”
“What would you say to studying in the sun?”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m going to the Tres Rios for business next weekend. I was thinking of taking the entire family. Would you like to go?”
“You mean Riviera Maya?”
Sr. Vasquez nodded.
Miguel hopped to his feet and ran into the living room. The first thing Sr. Vasquez heard was his children’s joyful shouts.
“We’re going to the Riviera Maya! We’re going to the Riviera Maya!”
Sr. Vasquez arrived in the living room to see his children dancing and singing.
“I guess that’s a yes?”
“Absolutely!”
The week could not go by fast enough as Miguel and Juñeta counted the days. Before the next weekend arrived, their bags were already packed. Early that Thursday morning, they were on their way. At the airport, they boarded a propeller jet airplane that said ‘Mexicana Airlines’ on the side. It took them out of Mexico City and over the Caribbean Sea to the Riviera Maya.
The Riviera Maya, located on the southeastern tip of Mexico, was famous for two things: great beaches and Mayan culture.
All four of them would get plenty of that.
At the airport, they caught a taxi. It took them directly to their hotel.
Along the way, there were many things to see. Hotels towered alongside the highway on one side. The beach ran along the other side of the coastal highway.
Sunflowers gathered in a large field just next to their hotel. Every sunflower, with their bright yellow petals and dark brown faces, faced the highway. In turn, that also meant they faced the sea.
“Why are the sunflowers doing that?” asked Miguel.
“Doing what?” asked mother.
“Facing the same direction.”
“They’re trying to absorb as much sunlight as possible.”
“They’re called ‘Heliotropes’,” added father, “which means ‘to turn towards the sun. There are many heliotropic flowers.”
“So they follow the sun all day long?”
“Some flowers do, but Sunflowers don’t. It would take too much energy to turn that giant flower head. They just turn their leaves instead.”
“You’re making this up,” said Junie.”
“I promise I am not.”
“How do you know so much about flowers?”
“I don’t really know much about flowers, I just know heliotropes.”
Sr. Vasquez showed them exactly what he meant when they arrived at the hotel.
“Tilde, may I borrow your new make-up compact?”
Tilde handed it to her father. He opened it and turned it towards the sun.
“Litzie, I need your help, too. Will you take the surveying stick to the other end of the parking lot?”
Sra. Vasquez nodded.
Sr. Vasquez took a tripod out of the trunk and opened it. He attached a small viewing scope. He positioned the compact atop the scope. He pivoted the mirror back and forth. Finally, the reflected light shone in Sra. Vasquez’s eyes.
“In the old days, surveyors used reflected sunlight to draw a straight line between two objects. This was the original heliotrope, turning towards the sun to direct light to a distant marker.”
“Are you finished?” asked mother.
Sr. Vasquez nodded.
She brought the stick back to her husband. He loaded it into the car.
“Does anyone want to go with me to the construction site?”
Nobody volunteered.
“Miguel? Juneta?”
“I want to sunbathe,” said Juneta.
“I want to go swimming in one of the cenotes,” said Miguel.
“I think I’d like to go into town,” said mother.
“Alright then.”
Sr. Vasquez took his luggage to the hotel room and said his good-byes. After that, everyone parted ways.
Miguel changed into his swim trunks and sandals. He wrapped a towel around his neck and headed uphill from the hotel.
A narrow path cut through a thicket of palm trees, broadleaf ferns, and the jagged limbs of gumbo-limbo trees. The path was muddy and slick. Stones and branches were set into place as steps, giving Miguel’s sandals a steady foothold.
When he reached the top of the hill, he heard shouting and splashing. A group of teenagers circled a large pit.
“Ay! Venga! Venga!” called a boy.
Miguel jogged down the slippery rocks to the edge of the pit. He peered into the pit. Moss-covered rock walls encircled the pit. A pool of green-blue water, ten meters across, frothed as kids swam and played.
“Esta frio?” asked Miguel.
“Nada mucho,” replied one of the swimmers.”
Miguel kicked off his sandals and threw his towel to the ground. He dove in head-first.
Just like any other cenote, this sinkhole was filled with groundwater, It was brisk and cold. Miguel immediately swam to the edge of the pit and climbed out.
“Brrr.”
“I think it’s cold, too. You jumped in before I could warn you.”
“That’s okay. My name is Miguel. What’s yours?”
“I am Andres. That’s my brother and sister in the water.”
“Do you live nearby?”
“Yes, my family lives up the road. How about you?”
“I’m staying at the hotel down there.”
Miguel shivered.
“Maybe we should go to the beach,” said Andres.
“I think that’s a good idea.”
Andres invited his siblings, but they wanted to play in the cenote. Miguel and Andres headed toward the beach.
The bright sunlight quickly warmed Miguel’s body as he exited the woods. He jogged a little before breaking into a full sprint. Andres quickly gave chase. They ran the whole way to the beach, stopping only when they hit the surf.
The sand was sun-bleached white. The water was the lightest blue, just like the sky above. The beach was crowded with tourists and locals just like Miguel and Andres.
Miguel and Andres bodysurfed on the incoming waves. Miguel liked the warm surf much better than the water inside the cenote.
Windsurfers and jet skis zoomed along the coastline, just beyond the green shallows. Miguel and Andres played for a bit longer, then ran back to shore, where they collapsed on the beach next to Juneta.
Miguel introduced Juneta to his new friend.
“Mom’s not back yet?”
“She should be back any time now.”
The three laid side-by-side on the beach for most of the afternoon, soaking up the sun. When Sra. Vasquez returned, she placed a small brown grocery bag in the sand next to Miguel. There was a loaf of bread, plastic utensils, a jar of jelly and a jar of sunbutter inside.
“Quien es?” asked mother.
“Es mi amigo, Andres.”
“Hola Andres.”
“Hola Sra. Vasquez.”
With introductions out of the way, Miguel began making sunbutter sandwiches for everyone. Although it looked like peanut butter, sunbutter was made from ground sunflower seeds. It tasted very similar to peanut butter, with a nuttier, roasted taste. It also tasted natural, without the sugary taste of peanut butter.
“Why didn’t you get peanut butter?”
“I found this on sale. I like it better.”
“Me, too,” agreed Andres, “my mother sometimes makes it from scratch, but it turns out green, just like ripe sunflower seeds.”
“Green?” frowned Juneta.
“It tastes just as good. Sunflowers are plentiful here, anyway.”
“We noticed,” said Sra. Vasquez.
“Sunflowers are one of the most useful crops in the Maya Riviera.”
“We have corn in Mexico City,” said Miguel.
“Of course we have corn here, too. We just use sunflowers for everything – even our tortillas.”
“Aren’t they green?”
“Sometimes,” laughed Andres.
Everyone enjoyed sunbutter sandwiches as they lay on the beach. When the sun began to set, Andres excused himself. He had to pick up his brother and sister and take them home.
“Hasta manana,” he said to the Vasquez family.
“Hasta manana.”
It meant until tomorrow.
Miguel and his family gathered up their things. They returned to the hotel room, waiting for father to return from his work. When he did, Sra. Vasquez grilled stuffed corn tortillas on the stove for dinner.
After dinner, they sat on beach chairs and listened to the waves lapping at the shore until the ocean winds grew too cold. Then, they went inside.
Mother and Junie watched a telenovella. Meanwhile, Miguel studied his archeology books while his father studied his blueprints.
Miguel laid his head next to his book at the end of each page. Finally, he fell asleep. His father carefully pulled the book out from under his head and replaced it with a pillow.
Miguel stirred, half-awake.
“Suenos Amables,” said his father.
“Hasta manana,” replied Miguel.
Until tomorrow...