This story is by Cristina Dominguez and was part of our 2025 Fall Writing Contest. You can find all the writing contest stories here.
Kenzo brushed away the dried clay dirt away from the earth’s clutches. I watched him over my shoulder using gentle strokes until we could see the artwork on the old pot. It revealed a broken rim of a pot open to the musty air of the brick pyramid. I softly finished packing the artifact in my hand and placed it down with caution. “How’s it going?” I asked my colleague and best friend.
Kenzo stopped and smiled softly. “It’s going great, another beautiful pot with an interesting design. The museum is going to love it, Lee.”
I lowered myself down to the dusty, dirt floor. “Yeah, they will.”
Kenzo’s eyes jumped from the pot to me. “Okay, that sounded very excited,” he pointed out.
With a heavy sigh, my head drooped down. “Yeah, I wish we found what we originally wanted. We’re not the first ones to find Aztec pottery. No one will take us seriously until we find something…..really worth finding. Something that gives us more insight to their life,” I explained with frustration. “The Aztecs were an incredible civilization with mighty gods. I wish we could find something else that would further explain them like Quetzalcoatl, Tezcatlipoca, or Tlaloc. It’d be amazing to find something of theirs?”
Kenzo shrugged. “Those have been found too. What difference would it make if we found one? We wouldn’t be the first ones,” he countered gently. “Plus, our generous benefactor funded our dig here. If we were to change anything, we need to bring it up to him.”
He was right, like usual. Kenzo balanced me very well and made sure I never did anything reckless. And although he was right, something still bothered me. “You’re right, but I still think we need to go for something more important.”
Kenzo sighed but smiled as if he had no choice. “Alright, Lee. Call Sal. Let’s tell him you want to change sites from Tenayuca.”
Satisfaction seeped into my soul. El Templo Mayor had always revealed more artifacts than this site of Tenayuca, so it should be worth it. Although, it is true that we gave our benefactor the idea of this site. The moment we mentioned Tenayuca, the businessman became excited and offered to fully fund the dig here. We couldn’t pass up the opportunity. Hardly anyone offers new archaeologists’ money to dig anywhere without the promise of finding something spectacular. And these pots were not spectacular. “Great! I’ll call him for coffee in the morning.”
The next morning, we sat nervously in the little café closest to the site. It was a repurposed shed with a few patio tables and metal chairs, but they made a great cup of Joe. Kenzo and I stopped by every morning. They knew our orders by heart. Minutes later, I spotted a luxury rental car parking. Once parked, Sal, who I assumed was short for Salvador, walked out with all eyes on him. Some of the locals admired that a Mexican man could reach such heights. Others eyed him with “mal-ojo” or an envious eye. Sal’s smile was that of a leading man, and it never faded as he made his way towards us and took a seat. “Gentlemen,” he sighed. “I was pleasantly surprised to hear from you yesterday. Find anything interesting?” he asked rubbing his palms together.
My apprehension was starting to show as Sal’s smile started to fade from his lips. “Sal, listen. Although, we’ve been finding a lot of Aztec pottery over at the Tenayuca site, but nothing else of value. I think it might be better to switch to El Templo Mayor. I have a feeling it might be more……fruitful,” I explained. “We wanted to hear your thoughts. I know you had donated to discover more of your heritage, but we figure you want to be a part of something big…not just pots.”
Sal was no longer smiling; he was quite serious. Kenzo eyed the table, afraid of what Sal had to say. I hadn’t realized that I was feeling the same. Finally, Sal sighed, and a hint of a smile returned. “I think you should continue your work Tenayuca. And if you feel that you can’t, I’ll have to stop funding.”
Speechless. I was left completely speechless. He was so serious and sure of his words. “Sal, you heard what I said, right? We’re just finding pots. I thought you wanted something like weapons or sculptures. Why stay at Tenayuca?”
Sal sipped from the coffee we ordered for him. “First, anything you find in that temple is sacred and a part of history. It’s all important,” he said sternly. “Second,” Sal continued. “I know that….I mean there’s…. There’s something buried there, and you just haven’t found it yet.”
“Alright,” I struggled to say, both dumbfounded and uncertain of what he meant. “Why are you so sure?”
“Trust me, Lee. Something special is there. Well, a few feathered somethings. Buried right at the corner of where the sun kisses the moon. Stay at Tenayuca,” he said with a mysterious smile before getting up from the table.
The next day, Kenzo and I were back on site. Kenzo quietly dusted away on something while I lacked the motivation to help. His eyes caught mine. “Aren’t you going to start?”
I shrugged. “Yeah, I will.” I knew Kenzo had sensed my displeasure and nodded. It continued to bother me. “I just don’t get why Sal’s so obsessed with this place. And why did it seem like he knew something is here? And the clue? It’s as if he buried it here himself but no one has been here since…?” My fingers ran through my hair, mixed with sweat and dust. The clue kept me distracted. “Buried right at the corner of where the sun kisses the moon,” Sal said. Where light meets the darkness? I started to look at every corner in this partially demolished temple wall. Sal had mentioned this specific area when we started. Why was it special?
Suddenly, my eyes became glued to a corner of the temple wall. The edge of sunlight had been hitting it since it was partially uncovered. And it was likely touched by the moonlight on a cloudless evening. I crept closer and stared at the brick placed in that corner. The crack in the brick indicated that it had been removed before. With my pocketknife, I carefully removed the dirt and clay that held the brick in place until it finally budged. With enough edging, it loosened and allowed itself to be pulled. I dropped the knife and stuck my hand inside where I had just pulled out the brick. My fingers brushed against something, and I grasped at it. When I pulled it out, in my hand was a statue of what the Aztecs called the “feathered serpent”. The god, Quetzalcoatl turned into the feathered serpent and that image was adorned in many temples and places of importance. And now I was staring at the “feathered” something Sal said would be there.
I caught Kenzo staring at me with it with his mouth open. “Holy crap, he was right.”
Suddenly, I recalled what he had said, a few somethings. I handed Kenzo the sculpture quickly and went to work on the brick on its opposite side. I reached for the knife while Kenzo wrapped the serpent and laid it safely in our box for transport. Right as I removed the brick, Kenzo returned and watched with awe. I found another. He rushed to the next corner and repeated everything I had done. When we were done, we had four sculptures. Somehow, I managed to call Sal and let him know that we think we found what he alluded to. It didn’t take long for the man to arrive on site. Sal jumped down to where he had been digging, unbothered that the dust plumed onto his luxury suit. I handed him one of the serpents and took a step back. Sal stared at it with so much adoration, as if he had missed it. His smile was easily brighter than the sunlight. “You did it! You boys found them!” he called out glancing at the other three below.
With shock over the discovery, I placed my hand on his shoulder. “Sal, how did you know they were there? Honestly….” I pleaded.
Sal chuckled. “Because I put them there….to protect them so I could go and protect my people when everything fell.”
Kenzo and I simply stared at him, not processing what he was telling us. It prompted him to continue. “My name is Sal, short for Quetzalcoatl. And you returned something dear to me. Turn in those three to a museum, take the credit, whatever, but this one I’d like to keep.”
“So, you’re saying this was carved in your image?” I laughed in disbelief.
“Yeah,” he simply answered. “We’ll keep in touch. My friend, Herman or Hermes will be contacting you soon for a future excavation in Greece.”
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