"I've been busy, a string of meetings, but I still think you might want to check out the phone book." It was the second time he'd made the suggestion. He was practically ordering me to do it. Why? "You never know. I'm afraid that's about the best I can do."
"Maybe I will," I said. "I've been a little busy too."
The phone call was feeling stranger and stranger. He was sending me to see something, probably in hopes it would make me go away. It was actually more unnerving than if he'd done nothing at all.
"Well, in any case, I hope you have a good visit," he declared diplomatically. Another pause. "Planning to be here long?"
"I'm not sure yet." Why did he want to know that?
"I see. Whatever happens, I hope you find what you're looking for. Best of luck."
He hung up, leaving me with the feeling he already knew the answer to every question he'd asked. The guys at the airport, and now the embassy—I was the best-known tourist in the country.
Okay, maybe I should just play along and see what happens. In any case, I'd just lost my appetite for fried eggs with hot sauce, but I had a definite interest in the phone book.
And there they were. Ninos del Mundo. Complete with an address, way out the Boulevar R. Aguilar Batres.
Well, why not see where it leads you? Sarah's card said the place was in the Peten, but who knows?