A DISMAYING FAILURE 41
The Mayas broke off at Tom’s approach and stared at him rather apprehensively out of their almost jet-black eyes. Tom greeted them: “Que tienen, amigos? Are you five not going to the Estados Unidos as you promised? Surely a Maya does not break his word!”
The volunteers looked at one another uncomfortably. Being courteous and trustworthy by nature, they seemed embarrassed at Tom’s words.
“We do not wish to break our promise,” one stammered in his broken Spanish. “But we are afraid. That storm was a bad omen.”
Tom’s brain worked swiftly to find a suitable answer. “As you see, the storm has caused no harm,” he pointed out. “Perhaps your ancestors in the sky were merely weeping at your departure. But you will return to Yucatan later.”
“Sf, that is so,” the Mayan spokesman said, brightening.
After conversing together for a few moments, the volunteers finally agreed to return with Tom to the plane. Tom told the two guides that his father was sending down a car by plane, and therefore he would not need their services for the return trip. He thanked them and they started back to the village.
Arv Hanson and the crewmen greeted Tom with grins of relief when his party arrived at the cargo ship. Arv, a first-rate amateur chef, was al-42 ELECTRONIC RETROSCOPE
ready preparing the evening meal in the plane’s galley. The Mayas sampled the food a bit suspiciously, but soon broke into broad smiles of enjoyment and wolfed down every morsel.
“Even they like your Swedish smorgasbord, Arv!” Slim said with a chuckle.