“No, this is the real thing, gringo.”

“What’s a gringo?”

“You are, amigo.”

They walked by the fronton building near the Plaza Caleta, and Joshua saw the billboards advertising jai alai inside.

He stood there, wide-eyed, and Jennifer asked, “Would you like to see the jai alai games?”

Joshua nodded. “If it’s not too expensive. If we run out of money we won’t be able to get home.”

“I think we can manage.”

They went inside and watched the furious play of the teams. Jennifer placed a bet for Joshua and his team won.

When Jennifer suggested returning to the hotel, Joshua said, “Gosh, Mom, can’t we see the divers first?”

The hotel manager had mentioned them that morning.

“Are you sure you wouldn’t like to rest, Joshua?”

“Oh, if you’re too tired, sure. I keep forgettin’ about your age.”

That did it. “Never mind my age.” Jennifer turned to Mrs. Mackey. “Are you up to it?”

“Certainly,” Mrs. Mackey groaned.

The diving act was at La Quebrada cliffs. Jennifer, Joshua and Mrs. Mackey stood on a public viewing platform while divers carrying lighted torches plunged one hundred and fifty feet into a narrow, rock-lined cove, timing their descent to coincide with the arrival of incoming breakers. The slightest miscalculation would have meant instant death.

When the exhibition was over, a boy came around to collect a donation for the divers.

“Uno peso, por favor.”

Jennifer gave him five pesos.

She dreamed about the divers that night.

Las Brisas had its own beach, La Concha, and early Sunday morning Jennifer, Joshua and Mrs. Mackey drove down in one of the pink canopied jeeps that the hotel supplied to its guests. The weather was perfect. The harbor was a sparkling blue canvas dotted with speedboats and sailboats.

Joshua stood at the edge of the terrace, watching the water skiers race by.

“Did you know water skiing was invented in Acapulco, Mom?”

“No. Where did you hear that?”

“I either read it in a book or I made it up.”

“I vote for ‘made it up.’”

“Does that mean I can’t go water skiing?”

“Those speedboats are pretty fast. Aren’t you afraid?”

Joshua looked out at the skiers skimming over the water. “That man said, ‘I’m going to send you home to Jesus.’ And then he put a nail in my hand.”

It was the first reference he had made to the terrible ordeal he had gone through.

Jennifer knelt and put her arms around her son. “What made you think of that, Joshua?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess because Jesus walked on water and everyone out there is walking on water.” He saw the stricken look on his mother’s face. “I’m sorry, Mom. I don’t think about it much, honest.”

She hugged him tightly and said, “It’s all right, darling. Of course you can go water skiing. Let’s have lunch first.”

The outdoor restaurant at La Concha had wrought-iron tables set with pink linen, shaded by pink-and-white-striped umbrellas. Lunch was a buffet and the long serving table was crowded with an incredible assortment of dishes. There were fresh lobster and crab and salmon, selections of cold and hot meats, salads, a variety of raw and cooked vegetables, cheeses and fruits. There was a separate table for an array of freshly baked desserts. The two women watched Joshua fill and empty his plate three times before he sat back, satisfied.

“It’s a very good restaurant,” he pronounced. “I don’t care what kind of food it is.” He stood up. “I’ll go check on the water skiing.”

Mrs. Mackey had barely picked at her food.

“Are you feeling all right?” Jennifer asked. “You haven’t eaten anything since we arrived.”

Mrs. Mackey leaned forward and whispered darkly, “I don’t want Montezuma’s Revenge!”

“I don’t think you have to worry about that in a place like this.”

“I don’t hold with foreign food,” Mrs. Mackey sniffed.

Joshua ran back to the table and said, “I got a boat. Is it okay if I go now, Mom?”

“Don’t you want to wait a while?”

“What for?”

“Joshua, you’ll sink with all you’ve eaten.”

“Test me!” he begged.

While Mrs. Mackey watched on shore, Jennifer and Joshua got into the speedboat and Joshua had his first water-skiing lesson. He spent the first five minutes falling down, and after that, performed as though born to water skiing. Before the afternoon was over, Joshua was doing tricks on one ski, and finally skiing on his heels with no skis.

They spent the rest of the afternoon lazing on the sand and swimming.

On the way back to Las Brisas in the jeep, Joshua snuggled up against Jennifer and said, “You know something, Mom? I think this was probably the best day of my whole life.”

Michael’s words flashed through her mind: I just want you to know this has been the greatest night of my life.

Early Monday morning Jennifer arose and got dressed to attend the convention. She put on a full-flowing dark green skirt and an off-the-shoulder blouse embroidered in giant red roses, that revealed her patina of suntan. She studied herself in the mirror and was pleased. Despite the fact that her son thought she was over the hill, Jennifer was aware that she looked like Joshua’s beautiful thirty-four-year-old sister. She laughed to herself and thought that this vacation was one of her better ideas.

Jennifer said to Mrs. Mackey, “I have to go to work now. Take good care of Joshua. Don’t let him get too much sun.”

The huge convention center was a cluster of five buildings joined by roofed circulation terraces, sprawled over thirty-five acres of lush greenery. The carefully tended lawns were studded with pre-Columbian statues.

The Bar Association Convention was being held in Teotihuacan, the main hall, holding an audience of seventy-five hundred people.

Jennifer went to the registration desk, signed in and entered the large hall. It was packed. In the crowd she spotted dozens of friends and acquaintances. Nearly all of them had changed from conservative business suits and dresses to brightly colored sport shirts and pants. It was as though everyone was on vacation. There is a good reason, Jennifer thought, for holding the convention in a place like Acapulco instead of in Chicago or Detroit. They could take off their stiff collars and somber ties and let themselves go under a tropical sun.

Jennifer had been given a program at the door but, deep in conversation with some friends, had paid no attention to it.

A deep voice boomed over the loudspeaker, “Attention, please! Would you all please take your seats? Attention, please! We would like to get the meeting started. Would you sit down, please!”

Reluctantly the small groups began to break up as people started to find seats. Jennifer looked up to see that half a dozen men had mounted the dais.

In the center was Adam Warner.

Jennifer stood there, frozen, as Adam walked to the chair next to the microphone and took a seat. She felt her heart begin to pound. The last time she had seen Adam had been when they had had lunch at the little Italian restaurant, the day he had told her that Mary Beth was pregnant.

Jennifer’s immediate impulse was to flee. She had had no idea Adam would be there and she could not bear the thought of facing him. Adam and his son being in the same city filled her with panic. Jennifer knew she had to get out of there quickly.

She turned to leave as the chairman announced over the loudspeaker, “If the rest of you ladies and gentlemen will take your seats, we will begin.”