She runs barefoot, stepping on outcropping tree roots and scattered twigs and branches on the damp forest floor. She knows the feeling; the discomfort of her feet being stabbed, scratched and roughened up doesn’t even make her wince. She is used to it. Margarita breathes in short and frantic motions, like the forced puffing of someone who’s having an intense belly laugh; her shoulders hopping rhythmically and her ribcage swelling and collapsing spasmodically like that of a giant hamster. Beads of sweat have formed on her forehead and upper lip; her mouth is parched from where her lips meet the row of her front teeth. Down to her throat, her tongue and palate in the back of her mouth have a sandy, dry sensation. She’s gasping.

But she keeps moving at an anxious pace, her focus is unwavering, and her mind swirls and twirls, shifting between thoughts as she looks relentlessly for her older sister Luisa, who disappeared behind a curtain of leaves and lianas, only seconds ago. The cacophony of a myriad of forest creatures: birds, monkeys, insects and frogs would make for an exotic musical canvas to this scene, except Margarita can’t listen to any of it. She relies on all her other senses to guide herself out there in the wild. To survive. 

It’s late September, and the few scattered but torrential rains have begun to announce the upcoming rain season with its bounty. The moderate saturation of the soil is pushing all instances of life to crawl up out of the ground.

The girls ventured out into the forest, foraging for mushrooms, and herbs. An activity that procures them food and some pesos at the local village market. That money, together with what their Mother makes washing and cleaning in the nearby town of Cárdenas, is essential for their subsistence.

But Luisa likely got sidetracked once again – she always does. Holes in the bark of old trees, lizards, tree bugs and the flowers of wild pitahaya plants – the dragon fruit- dangling from the high forest canopy, are to blame for her distraction. A curious, nerdy kid, always in need of that extra stimulation and excitement, Luisa is in awe at the succulent diversity of lifeforms surrounding her. She is ecstatic.

She has undiagnosed ADHD, but that’s a condition that won’t be recognized and treated as a mental health disorder in this recessed region of Mexico until 30 years later. For Luisa, the forest as a provider of food and an opportunity to escape the dull routine in the village fascinates her. The bush is her giant playground. Her privilege. 

Meanwhile, Margarita’s bloodshot eyes scan the lush landscape of never-ending shades of green. Suddenly, out of the misty, muggy atmosphere of the thick jungle, a figure materializes before her eyes. Floating above the tangled, mulchy floor, in a small clearing, the vision is so close to her, she believes she can touch it. For a moment she hesitates, but she’s not frightened. A familiar outline takes shape, complete with features she can easily recognize. A known face fleshes out in front of her. Her grandma’s grey hair tied up in a high bun. The elderly woman’s tender smile and the outer corners of her half-closed eyes, pointing down over high fleshy cheekbones. Margarita is in a state of bliss, and a deep serenity makes her feel warm in her core. The tension on her fists, calves, back and neck almost disappeared entirely. Now replaced by a sense of peace that fills her tiny 7-year-old body. 

The girl knows that her late grandmother is there either to relay a message, to give her news of something that is going to happen, or to protect her from danger. Margarita then feels a sudden, dry, hefty thud on the ground. A faint vibration that crawls up from the soles of her bare, murky feet to the crown of her head. A snappy jolt that rushes to the executive department of her brain, sending a warning sign. “It must be something big”, alerts her the voice of her subconscious mind as she begins to turn around to find out…

Before she can articulate any further thoughts, and still holding onto the image of her grandmother, Doña Raquel – the one who sat her on her lap and rocked her in her arms, always making her laugh with old songs and stories of yesteryear – she shifts her body 180 degrees around, standing the opposite way she was initially.

Her mind then turns blank in the blink of an eye, feeling how her broad smile melts into a cold, stiff grimace, making her eyeballs look like they will puff out at the sight. Her two little feet firmly planted on the ground. She’s faced with the unthinkable. A set of deep-staring, reddish-yellow eyes, with round pupils is cold-set on her. The silence is overbearing, and for a moment she feels as if the universe is stuck in absolute stillness. Margarita stands frozen still, locking eyes with the magnificent creature, about six times as heavy as her.  

It’s impossible to tell who’s under whose hex, who mesmerizes who, and who’s going to break this silent spell first; but one thing is blatantly obvious: who’s going to come out of it in one piece. As if in an urge, the golden feline flexes his powerful legs, crunches down ready to jump like a mighty dart and sink his long fangs on the juicy flesh of her juvenile prey, rip her neck open and feel the metallic taste of blood gushing over his snout and claws.

Instead, in a slow, elegant move, followed by an instant, lightning-fast motion, the king of the night leaps out of sight and disappears into the deep moving ocean of green, leaving a set of footprints in the soft ground beneath him. At once, two arms surround Margarita from behind and hold her in a grasp so tight, she’s knocked entirely out of her breath, and she faints. 

When she opens her eyes again, she’s lying flat on a cot. Taking stock of her surroundings with slight, calculated twists of her neck –right and left – she knows this place. She is comfortable but confused and very thirsty. Her sister Luisa comes over by her side, stretches her arm out and offers her a terracotta cup with a concoction of “ruda and matali” -medicinal plants picked at the edge of the bush – sweetened with wildhoney; believed to make her relax, and bring her spirit fully back into her body after a big scare, like the one she’s just had out there in the wild.  

Luisa’s eyes are watery. Reading her lips and facial expression, Margarita feels she can almost read her sister’s mind as well: “how are you feeling? What happened? Tell me everything! Where did you go?… I lost you for a minute!”; Luisa’s string of questions reverberate inside of her head. She’s madly concerned and eager to know. But Margarita has closed her eyes, the medicine tea has put her in a soft trance, and now she sleeps.