I spend over a week winding down the Yucatan Peninsula. I stay in camp sites and explore the city of Playa del Carmen, before making my way to Tulum. The food is incredible, the ocean is majestic, and I find myself smiling more than I have in a long time.
It was a little unnerving the first night at an unfamiliar campsite, surrounded by strangers, but everyone was here for their reasons, and everyone was polite if not kind. I'm definitely off the beaten path. If I had that TikTok account, I would be videoing the hell out of this place, but I don't and I'm not. Instead, I'm soaking it all in.
Today I am going to explore what a Google search told me was one of the most magical caves in all of the Yucatan. I'm just south of Tulum and the underground caves supposedly run for miles. I'm a little excited. Okay, more than a little excited. Hell, if the caves are as nice as the picture looked, I might even put on my swimsuit and take a dip in one of the cenotes.
It's a little strange being on my own as a woman, but I have my pepper spray, and my working knowledge of the language has helped me so far. Besides, I trust myself, my instincts. And as I go deeper into the cave, I start to really believe that.
Sure, my life hasn't panned out the exact way I wanted. I grew up in foster care. My dad was an asshole who never got his life together to take care of me. My mom? Never even met her. I haven't the first idea what love is, which is probably why I have that bad dick detector. But today, all that stuff in my past is behind me. I'm focused on one thing and one thing alone, the present.
All seems well until a group of rowdy guys run into the caves, laughing. They're speaking a language I don’t recognize, with hard consonants and fast syllables. One thing leads to another and I realize they have firecrackers with them.
"Stop," I shout, feeling like this is completely inappropriate, all things considered. We're in one of the most magical places I've ever been. The cave is cavernous and beautiful, stalactites hanging above. It's dark in here and cold. But it feels special and sacred.
I know there are bats in the ceiling, but they don't scare me. The only thing that's scaring me in this moment are these jackass guys who are trying to create chaos during my moment of bliss. It's not okay.
"Just knock it off," I say in Spanish, hoping they can understand. "Go do that somewhere else. Please. Leave me alone. What did this cave ever do to you?"
But it's too late. They've already lit them. And those firecrackers, they're big, and they go off fast. I'm fuming. For a moment, I hold my breath as they crackle and pop, but then I scream, feeling like the blast is bigger than those boys anticipated.
I duck low, covering myself with my arms, screaming as the entire cave seems to rattle and roll, rumbling around me. I gasp, falling on my back as rocks begin to fall from the ceiling of the cave, and the entire thing is shaking in a way that is otherworldly.
Before I black out, my last thought is this: I was so busy spending my whole life avoiding dickheads that I never even got the chance to fall in love.
And now? I never will.
3
Stone
I hear her before I see her. A woman shrieking, swearing like a sailor. I frown, on high alert. I haven't heard a human voice besides my own in five long years. That's a lot of days to count by marking with a stick on a stone. One day merging into a week, a month, a year.
Five long ass years in this prehistoric world. And now, there's someone else. A woman.
It takes me a moment to realize I’m really hearing a woman’s voice. Am I hallucinating? Years of wishing have finally paid off… is the portal open?
I quickly leave what I’ve labeled my safe zone. I have a cave, sure. But I've also built a hut for myself for when I need more light.
Leaving the area, I realize the sky is quickly growing dark. Light rain falls on my bare shoulders. I look up to hear the crack of lightning, thunder rolling.
And yet, a woman runs toward me. Behind her is W.M., the neighborhood woolly mammoth, who likes to roam this area snacking on grasses. For the most part, he's pretty tame. But right now, he looks like he's got a stick up his ass because he's charging her with the intention of attacking.
She should just stop, turn around, hold up her arms and talk slow. I realized a few years back that W.M.'s favorite thing is a lullaby. I begin humming as I walk toward her, as she races towards me, her eyes wide.
And, fuck, as I begin to sing, "Hush little baby, don't say a word," I realize this woman is no baby.
And I don't want her to hush. Hell, I'd like to hear her scream my name.
She's gorgeous. If I had to describe her beauty as she's racing toward me, it would go like this: curves for days, muscles on her thighs, a narrow waist, long, wavy dark hair.
She looks like she belongs out here. Fit as fuck. Does she live here, somehow? Or has she just traveled through time?
She's certainly not from the Stone Age, not with her high-tech backpack, her hiking boots, wool socks, and cute crop top.
No, she's from the real world, from the 21st fucking Century.
And she's scared.
I remember what it was like when I first got here, I was goddamn terrified. For weeks, I stumbled around in a daze, crawling through those fucking underground caves, trying to figure out what triggered the travel through time to bring me here.
I'd hoped, of course, that my brothers I was on the mission with would have landed here somewhere with me. But I've never found them. And if they did land here, hell, maybe they didn't make it as long as I have.
I hold up a hand as I keep singing that song. When the woman reaches me, she stops, turning around, realizing nothing’s chasing her anymore. W.M. stopped charging and is instead looking at me.
" Mama's going to buy you a mockingbird. And if that mockingbird don't sing, mama's gonna buy you a diamond ring." I pass the woman, my skin electric as I stand a few feet away from her. I want to talk to her, but first I need to tell W.M. that she isn’t an intruder.
This woman, she's mine.
"Hey W.M., it's all good," I say.
He leans down, offering me his nose to rub. And I do. I take the last piece of fruit from my satchel, offering it to him. "Sorry, buddy," I tell him, "I don't have any more." I pat his nose again and I turn around. Knowing W.M., he's probably ready to go search for some food, realizing that’s all I have.
"Where am I?" the woman asks. "What was that? And who are you?" Tears fill her eyes, eyes that look like chocolate, coated in long lashes. She's beautiful. But she is terrified, shaking her head, scared.
"You from around here?" I joke, running a hand over my thick beard, knowing she's not.
"From around here? Where are we?" she asks, lifting her eyes to the sky as a squawk above catches her attention. Polly has decided to make an entrance, my yellow tailed bird swooping down, checking out the situation.
"It's all good, Polly," I tell her. She circles us, but once she realizes I'm fine, she flies away.
"Did you just talk to a bird? Are you a bird whisperer?"
I shake my head. "No, she's my friend."
"You're friends with a bird named Polly?"
"Yeah," I say. The rain begins to pelt down harder. I'm used to it. Tropical storms come in fast and pass just as quickly.