Treasure of the World Tara Sullivan (inspirational books for women TXT) 📖

time when there is a day to waste. The price for zinc is higher than it’s been in ten years. Tin is on a rebound too. I’m not going to waste this opportunity because Daniel has a sniffle. Until the boy’s back on his feet, Ana will take his place.” When Mami starts to talk again, he holds up a hand to stop her and points at Daniel. “If you don’t like it, focus on making him better.”

He slams his helmet on his head and stomps out the door.

“Ana! Come!”

I glance an apology at Mami and Abuelita. Mami is shaking and Abuelita won’t meet my eyes. Daniel looks shocked, but he’s still wrapped in blankets and propped on pillows. He’ll get a chance to heal. I know I’ve done the right thing.

Without a word to any of them, I follow Papi.

Papi doesn’t talk to me as we walk the long road to the big mine entrance on the other side of the mountain where he works. The Cerro Rico has hundreds of mine entrances, some huge, some no bigger than the little manhole near my house. I sometimes think about all the tunnels snaking their way through the rock and wonder how the whole thing, hollowed out from the inside, doesn’t fall down around us.

The big mine is a long way from home, nearly two hours of walking, and we’re not lucky enough to meet up with any trucks going our direction, only trucks coming down the mountain. We stand aside and let them pass. It’s downhill for the first hour until we get to the intersection with my school. I give it a wistful glance, then follow Papi up the road leading away from it for the last forty-five minutes of steep uphill walking.

Finally, we round a last blind curve and the El Rosario mine stands before us. The cleared area in front of the main tunnel is a hive of activity—the tromp of heavy boots competing with the whump-whirr of the air compressor machine and the rattle of an electric jackhammer.

I feel deeply that I don’t belong here. Sure, I’ve come to the mine before, once or twice, when Papi forgot his lunch sack. But every other time I’ve come here as Ana, Mauricio Águilar Agudo’s daughter, who was doing a nice, daughterly deed. People smiled at me and patted my head.

But now I’m not running an errand, not wearing a skirt. Instead, I’m in a dusty miner’s suit, cinched tight at the waist. There are mud-caked boots on my feet, and my braids are wound around my head so that the helmet doesn’t wobble. The acetylene tank is strapped uncomfortably to my right hip and a spike jabs into my left. Over my shoulder, in Daniel’s bag, are a simple lunch, a few handfuls of coca leaves, and the small plastic water bottle I carried with me when I left home. No one is smiling at me now.

“Well,” says Papi, cracking his knuckles one by one and looking around him, “now you just need to convince César to let you stay. Don’t make me regret bringing you.” He sets off at a brisk walk across the lot.

I swallow. I didn’t realize I would have to have this fight with more than just Mami and Abuelita.

Heart hammering in my throat, I force my feet to follow Papi as we walk toward the chaos of the mine entrance. Men strain, their feet slipping in the gray sludge as they struggle to keep huge wheeled metal bins of rock fragments on their narrow tracks. I scrabble sideways to get out of their way and bump into a column of workers lighting each other’s acetylene lamps. The glow from the open flame on their helmets shadows their faces even in daylight.

“Sorry,” I mumble, and hurry away.

I hug the rock face, scuttling to catch up to Papi, who is standing in front of a tin-roofed hut off to the left of the gaping archway. Just as I get there, a man comes out. I pull up short to avoid smashing into him and recognize César Jansasoy Herrera.

“Don César,” I squeak. I hate how high and girlish my voice sounds, but I can’t help it, so I don’t try again. César is a huge slab of a man: his shoulders are wide, his face is wide, his knuckles are wide. He’s the kind of strong you can see coming ten meters away, not the ropy, sneaky strong that Papi is, that surprises you when you’re not expecting it.

About to walk past, César does a double take when he hears me and peeks under the brim of the helmet at my face.

“Ana?” he asks, shocked.

I nod and glance at Papi, but he just waves a hand for me to go on. “Daniel is sick today. We were hoping you’d let me take my brother’s place, just until he gets better . . .”

“Ana . . .” he starts, holding up his hands in front of him in apology, but Papi claps César on the shoulder. Even though he’s shorter and slimmer than César, Papi moves with an intensity that tends to make people do things his way. Steering César away from me and other listening ears, Papi leans in and starts talking to César in a low, focused voice. I can’t hear their words, but it doesn’t take hearing to see César shaking his head back and forth. This is not good. I can’t imagine how angry Papi will be with me if this doesn’t work out. Not only will he have to go home this evening and have his mother’s way be the way things are, but his work buddies will have watched him fail to convince his boss. None of that will go well for us. I break into a cold sweat under my awkward gear. This idea is all my fault. I have to make it work.

Without any more thought than that, I run over and grab César’s hand in mine.

César startles and tries