Neophyte

Findings

Metztli walked out of the church through another door connected to the path that led to the interior of the Mission. Through the brick walls, the protesters were heard loud and clear, outraged about what Pope Francis wanted to do. However, the young woman had work to do; she grabbed her brown bag and went on her way as she walked by the beautiful gardens filled with different flowers and cactuses. A couple of male gardeners cared for the garden; many greeted Metztli, and she did the same.

"Buenos dias, Metztli (Good morning, Metztli)," said a young male gardener. He looked in his mid-twenties with short, unkempt black hair and dark tan skin. However, due to working out in the sun for long periods, the young man looked to be in his late thirties to early forties. His eyes were dark as coal, and he had a crooked smile with light yellow teeth. The gardener was skinny, making him look gaunt.

"Oh, buenos dias, Carlos. ¿Sabías lo de los manifestantes (Did you know about the protesters)?"

He shook his head. "No, sólo oí gente gritando. También oí al Padre Santiago calmando la situación (No, I just heard people yelling. I also heard Padre Santiago calming the situation). E-Everyone o-okay"

Metztli smiled at Carlos's attempt to practice his English. Carlos and his family were from Oaxaca, Mexico, and were in California on a work visa. The young man wanted to learn English to become a citizen and have more job opportunities. Metztli tried to help him the best she could whenever the opportunity arose. "Yes, everyone is okay. Oh, Carlos, ¿tu madre tiene las hierbas que le pedí (Oh, Carlos, does your mother have the herbs I asked for)?" The young woman was also an herbalist who specialized in many medicines. It was a skill that her mother and grandmother had taught her. Since her father was always ill due to his illness, she and her mother did their best to make herbal medicines to assist him."

"Mi madre dice que llegarán mañana. Te los traeré cuando los haya recibido (My mother said that they will arrive tomorrow. I will bring them to you once she has received them)."

 "Thank you, my friend. I need to clean and help. See you later." She waved and continued forward until she walked out of the gardens. Metztli glanced back slightly and noticed Carlos still eyed her but eventually returned to tend the gardens. Carlos had a crush on her, but Metztli tried her best not to give him false hope. 

The interior of the Mission was silent. When out of the garden, Metztli walked by the small cemetery that had a couple of plaques of Padres that passed. Next to it was a space where it was said many Native Americans had been buried. They were places she didn't like to go into since the scene of death saddened her.

The protester's echoes became distant until Metztli arrived at the museum. The museum was part of the farthest section of the Mission but consisted of the most extended building. Five rooms were connected to one and the other. They showed maps, paintings, priest and soldier uniforms, pottery, musical instruments, farming equipment, schedules of the priests, and a theater that consisted of parts of the Tongva tribe's history.  

Upon arrival, Metztli took out a key from her bag that was given to her when she joined the Mission's volunteer group, went to the janitor's room, and got a broom and dustpan set. When putting her bag down on one of the tables, she began to sweep the museum's floors from the dust and small pieces of trash left by visitors. "Seriously, people can't pick up after themselves." While cleaning, there were times when the young woman would stop and look at the museum's objects and information board. Although Metztli had gone through the museum various times, the story of the objects still intrigued her. 

An hour later, she was done sweeping the museum. "Well, Padre Santiago just said that I should sweep the place. Since I'm here, I might as well walk around to keep my peace." The broom and dustpan were put away, and Metztli slowly walked around the halls of the Mission. A soft gust of wind blew by her, lifting strands of her hair midway. 

Something caught her eye as she walked: a 'DO NOT ENTER' sign. Metztli was used to seeing this sign whenever she visited the Mission. Once, she asked other volunteers what was hidden behind the sign, but no one ever told her, or they didn't simply know. The young woman stopped in her tracks in front of the sign. At the other end was a dark hallway; she wondered if something else was on the other side.

Metztli looked both ways to ensure that no one was in sight. There were cameras, but she knew the Mission was canceled and the security guard hadn't arrived yet for his shift. "I just want to take a quick peek. There's nothing wrong; it's not like I'm going to take anything." Again, she ensured that no one was in sight and crossed over the sign without difficulty. There was a simple wooden door; excitement got the best of her, and she went to it. Disappointment set it since a key was needed; Metztli pulled on the door handle to see if it was locked. To her surprise, it wasn't. "My lucky day."

The door slowly opened; the other side was surrounded by darkness, and it wasn't easy to see anything. "I left my phone in my bag; I must return to the museum. I knew I should've worn pants instead of a dress!" The young woman immediately ran back to the museum, got her handmade brown bag, and went back over the 'DO NOT ENTER' sign. Metztli returned to the door and slowly opened it; she got her phone and turned on the flashlight. She gasped when she noticed old mud brick stairs leading to a downstairs path. The flashlight was not strong enough to see through the darkness. "I broke certain rules; I can't turn back now." She held to certain parts of her yellow summer dress and phone with one hand while using the other on the mud-brick walls.

The mud-brick stairs were uneven, and Metztli almost slipped at times. The deeper she entered, the colder it got, but she was determined to see what was at the bottom. Once at the bottom, the flashlight hit something that caught Metztli's interest. She slowly walked forward, and her flashlight showed her what looked like prison bars. "What the...?" A couple of water drips landed on her hair, frightening her, but she continued. The flashlight was moved forward, and a long path with prison cells looked worse than other parts of the Mission. "It's a prison. This place was never mentioned in the maps or being part of the Mission. Why would this be kept secret?"

"UUUUGGGGHHHHHH...."

"EEK!" Metztli squealed when she heard an echo within the room. It sounded as if someone was with her. That was when she decided that it was time for her to return to the surface. The young woman went up the stairs, but the door was slammed shut. "What!?" When Metztli got to the door, she tried to open it, but it was shut tightly. "HEY, PLEASE, LET ME OUT! LET ME OUT!" she yelled while banging on the door.

"UUUGGGGHHHHH...." 

"Xitopalēhuicān (Help)!"

"Nimitztlatlauhtia (Please)!"

Voices echoed within the hidden prison, which made Metztli turn; to her horror, she saw men and women. They looked like Native Americans; some didn't have upper clothing, while others did. They all went towards her, pleaded, and tried to reach out to her. Metztli screamed in terror; she felt their hands grab her. She closed her eyes, covered her ears, and screamed. 

The fear became too much; Metztli fainted.