After two slow miles of increasing raindrops, the road narrowed into a set of twin trails worn from years of tire treads.   As they continued up an embankment and around a gentle curve, holes in the road increased both in depth and frequency, causing Townsend to reach for his bouncing case beside him and to lift it onto his lap to keep it secure.

“You sure we’re on the right road?”

“Pretty sure.”

Reaching and rounding the next bend, Rickards slowed the car and soon eased to a stop just outside a small village.

Dozens of huts constructed of adobe-like mud bricks and metal roofing lined both sides of the road.  A few of the nearby structures sat open with no doors and several children began to gather, curiously peering out at the dirty rental car.  Then several adults followed in the children’s wake.

Rickards exhaled and opened his door, stepping out into the drizzle and nodding politely at the growing group of people, all of whom were dressed in colorful, modern clothing.

As the other two climbed out of the car, Rickards searched the dark faces of the Quechuan children, finding who he was looking for in a small boy who stepped forward, grinning.

The boy approached and stared at Rickards before speaking in English. “You are back.”

Rickards returned the smile.  “Hello, Julio.”  He then walked around the front of the car and motioned.  “These are my friends Angela and Leonard.”

The boy smiled politely at them before turning back to Rickards.  “She is the one?”

He nodded.  “She came with me the first time.”

It seemed enough, at which point Julio turned and looked behind him, waving more children over and speaking in rapid Quechua.

“You’ve made some friends,” said Angela.

“Julio is a bit of a prodigy with languages.”

Behind Rickards, more Quechuans continued gathering and grinning, welcoming them forward into one of the open buildings to escape the rain.

Julio, who looked about twelve, turned back and stated with some excitement, “Your mother was here a few days ago.”

“Mother-in-law,” corrected Rickards.  “I thought she might have been.”

The three followed the others into the open structure where several children examined Townsend’s shiny metal box, touching it and tapping on it.

Julio peered up at Townsend.  “You have come to see the Wank’a.”

The professor turned to Rickards as he bent down toward the boy.  “Actually, I’d like to show him.”

The boy nodded.  “The Wank’a is for everyone, but we must visit Urcaguary and get her permission.”

Rickards smiled appreciatively and checked his watch, then turned back to Angela and Townsend.  “We’d better get a move on.”

***

The second visit was different for Angela.