The Amazing Mexican Secret Part 2

Only Chef Lillou remained, with Stanley under his arm. Carmen stepped toward them.

"Please, madame madame. Come no closer!" the chef said, brandis.h.i.+ng the upper half of Stanley's body in an attempt to ward her off.

Carmen was now less than three feet away. She winked at Stanley.

In one graceful motion, Carmen bent at the waist and grabbed Stanley's hands. She pulled him from the chef's grasp and spun around like a dancer. Stanley's feet sailed through the air. Completing their round, his shoes. .h.i.t Chef Lillou square in the middle of his crisp white chest.

"Zut alooooooooors!" the chef cried as he crashed all the way down to the bottom of the pyramid. the chef cried as he crashed all the way down to the bottom of the pyramid.

The children cheered as the chef and his staff scampered back into the jungle.

They all hugged Carmen.

"You were wrong to go off without telling anyone," she said. She repeated herself in Spanish so that Isabel, Esteban, and Felipe would understand. Isabel's eyes welled up with tears.

"Now, you must return home. I will take Stanley from here."

"But we are so close!" said Eduardo.

Carmen lifted her eyes to the low building at the top of the pyramid.

"It is lucky you were not closer," she said. "Or La Abuela's secret would be a secret no more."

5.

The Plunge Carmen waited until the other children were out of sight before continuing up the steps with Stanley.

Stanley wished she hadn't sent his friends away. "Why couldn't they come, too?" he sulked.

"Because they could not," Carmen declared.

"They were just trying to help,"

Stanley said. "They came all this way, and you made them stop just steps from La Abuela's house. It's not fair." He kicked a step hard with his toe.

"Stanley," Carmen said. "How did you become flat?"

"The bulletin board over my bed squashed me in the middle of the night," Stanley grumbled.

"Was that fair?" said Carmen.

"No." Stanley shook his head. "It wasn't fair at all. People make fun of me. They stare at me. Sometimes I wish it had been my brother, Arthur."

Carmen nodded thoughtfully. Together, they climbed the last step. Stanley took a moment to straighten himself and flatten his hair before stepping inside to meet La Abuela.

"h.e.l.lo?" Stanley called, leaning through the archway. "Hola? La Abuela?" La Abuela?"

His voice echoed from one end of the building to the other. It was empty. There wasn't even any furniture.

"Where is she?" Stanley said.

Carmen walked across the floor. She turned to face Stanley, her silhouette framed by an archway identical to the one they had entered.

"When I was your age," Carmen said, "only boys were matadors. Even then, I knew I wanted to fight bulls. I cried very much, because it was not fair. It was not fair that I was a girl. It was not fair that I had this body.

"But then, someone very wise told me a secret. And now I will tell that secret to you: It is not what you have that matters," said Carmen. "It is what you do with it."

She beckoned for Stanley to come and look.

Stanley gasped. There were no steps down the other side of the pyramid. In fact, there was no other side to the pyramid at all. There was only a cliff that dropped from this side of the building like a huge wall, all the way down to a blue pool of water far, far below.

The green of the jungle made a blanket over the land. Stanley felt as if he could see for miles.

"So where does La Abuela live?" he said.

"I don't know," said Carmen.

"What?"

"No one has ever been able to go beyond this point to find her. I know only that the water leads to her."

"But how are we supposed to get down to the water?"

"We are not," said Carmen. "You are."

Stanley was speechless.

Carmen's dark eyes twinkled. "What are you going to do with what you have, Stanley?"

Stanley peered over the edge. He could not float down like a kite, because there was no wind. And this was nothing like Niagara Falls, which had been an accident, in any case.

In a flash, Stanley knew what he had to do.

He took several big steps back.

"Buena suerte," Carmen whispered. "Good luck."

He took three deep breaths.

And then he ran and dived over the edge.

6.

La Abuela Stanley had seen Olympic divers on television: their bodies perfectly straight, their hands like arrows piercing the water. Stanley made himself as flat as he could. The wind rushed around his ears. The side of the cliff blurred before his eyes.

He barely made a splash.

Stanley shot toward the bottom of the water like a bullet. Suddenly, he noticed an underwater cave to his left, swarming with fish. He went for it.

Inside, Stanley knew he couldn't hold his breath much longer. His hands broke the surface and hit the cave's rocky ceiling.

There wasn't nearly enough s.p.a.ce for his head.

How am I going to breathe?! he thought in a panic. he thought in a panic.

Then he remembered Carmen's voice: What are you going to do with what you have? What are you going to do with what you have?

Stanley swung himself into a back float. His flat body barely rose above the surface. The ceiling of the cave was inches from his nose.

He gulped the air hungrily.

A current began pulling him along. It started gently and then got faster. Soon, Stanley felt like he was riding a water slide-except it was pitch-dark, and all the sides were covered with sharp rocks.

The current rose to a roar. He swung into the wall and sc.r.a.ped his leg. Stanley cried out.

Vroosh. He shot out of the cave. He shot out of the cave.

Stanley found himself in a calm, clear pool of water shallow enough that he could stand.

Around the pool was a small field of herbs, planted in rows.

And at the edge of the field was a tiny cottage.

Stanley walked ash.o.r.e, careful not to step on any of the plants. He was about to knock on the door when it opened.

A very small, very old woman stood before him. Stanley swallowed hard. "La Abuela?" She was smaller than Stanley was, with big cheeks and short gray hair. She wore a colorful dress and a patterned scarf around her neck.

She looked at him curiously.

Stanley reached into his pocket for Carlos's letter, but all he found was a few soggy bits of paper.

"I'm not a spy," Stanley said quickly.

Without responding, La Abuela reached for his hand. She raised his arm before her eyes and turned it this way and that, examining its shape.

Then she turned her gaze to Stanley's face. Stanley held his head high so she could look.

When he looked down again, La Abuela's eyes were moist, as if she were about to cry. Her lips quivered.

"Estaba esperandole," she said. "I have been waiting for someone like you."

Stanley was about to ask what she meant when he heard a series of splashes-one, two, three!

"Oui!" a familiar voice said triumphantly. "We have arrived at last!"

Somehow, Chef Lillou and his spies had followed Stanley!

7.

The Secret Chef Lillou burst into La Abuela's cottage, dropping his climbing harness and his scuba tank in the middle of the floor. He looked around the dim room.

"Where is she, you little crepe crepe?"

Stanley s.h.i.+fted uncomfortably in his chair. "I don't know," he said, shrugging.

The chef walked over to the lumpy bed. "You cannot fool Chef Lillou," he said. "She is hiding beneath these covers!" He whisked the blankets off. Nothing.

He held a finger in the air. "She is in the closet!" He bounded over to a wardrobe and threw it open. Empty.

"She's gone," Stanley said. "I came all this way just like you, and she's not even here." He pointed to the sc.r.a.pe on his leg and frowned. "Now I can barely walk."

"Do not look for sympathy from moi moi," Chef Lillou waved his hand in the air. "After that woman on the pyramid, I have more bruises than an overripe tomato." He scanned the room one more time.

"I do not care," he said, sticking his nose in the air. "Outside is an entire field of La Abuela's secret ingredient. I have spent nine years seeking perfection, and now I have found it. I will be the greatest chef in history!"

He marched into the field, leaving the door wide open. Stanley leaned forward to see. Chef Lillou bent down, plucked a green leaf, and held it up to his nose. He inhaled deeply.

"Chef," called Patrice the saucier, "do you smell what I smell?"

The chef furrowed his brow. "This smells like common coriander."

"No, not coriander," said Reynaldo. "It is cilantro, I think."

"Coriander and cilantro are the same thing, you fool!" Chef Lillou cried. "It is the most common spice in all of Mexican cooking!

"This isn't the secret ingredient," he choked.