The Premise

by Andy Crossfield

  He had Colleen on his right arm and carried his briefcase in his left hand. When Jack saw Colleen eying it, he gave her a glance as if to say, 'everything in time, all will be explained'.

  The restaurant was packed, but with the help of a $200 tip to the Maître d’, they were seated right away at a table with a great view of the restaurant’s signature feature… a soaring, central wine cellar that extended from the ceiling down into the floors below the main dining level. To maintain the correct temperature, the entire wine cellar was encased in clear Lexan that allowed diners to watch the staff, dressed in black climbing gear, rappel up and down the sides to retrieve a guest’s selection. On busy nights such as this, as many as six climbers were kept constantly moving across the face of the stacks to locate different vintages.

  Jack and Colleen sat and marveled at the speed that a particular bottle of wine was located, pulled, and slid onto a moving belt that transported the bottle to the sommelier station for delivery and presentation at the table. The entire process was a guaranteed conversation starter that had an additional benefit for the restaurant: increased wine sales.

  Colleen welcomed the night out. Only once, during a lull in the conversation, did she drift into the consuming dread that was her constant companion just hours before. The larger, unknowable motive of why Colleen seemed to be a target, persisted, but they had agreed to sleep on it, and approach any solution in the morning when they both were fresh. Jack reassured Colleen that she was safe at the hotel, since switching rooms and moving to a floor reached only by keycard, kept her safe from the majority of hotel guests and all of the public.

  Colleen’s worry had also been lessened somewhat when Karen called that afternoon. She assured Colleen she was okay, having suffered just a bump on the head. She said she was going to start pulling the lab together tomorrow with the help of some of the staff. Karen stressed that there was nothing Colleen could do by getting back in a rush, and urged her not to worry. Colleen told Karen about her room being ransacked, and that she was holding on to Mark’s briefcase as if her life depended on it. She considered putting it in the hotel safe, but decided to keep it in her possession and hide it in the locked closet in her room instead.

  When they had finished their meal and the conversation ebbed, Jack placed his briefcase on the table and opened it so both could see its contents. He pulled on a hidden lever to reveal a secret compartment, then he took a strange looking wooden box from it and put the box on the table in front of Colleen.

  "I never travel anywhere without this." Jack said, his eyes glowing with anticipation.

  "What is it?" Colleen asked.

  "The mystery I promised you– remember?" "See what you can discover about it" said Jack with a slight grin.

  Colleen turned it over and over and was about to shake it when Jack placed his hand on hers to stop her.

  "Gently," Jack said in a soothing voice, "it's very old."

  Colleen noticed designs she didn’t recognize that were carved into the dark, dense wood. She wasn’t an archeologist, but was fairly familiar with the major civilizations of the world and could usually recognize the more prominent civilization’s figures or writing. The symbols on this box didn’t fit any of the familiar inscriptions she had learned about. The designs and writings covered every surface of the box and some extended over more than one panel, but while some were familiar, most were not.

  Colleen couldn’t see any joint or hinge, no lid or movable area, no slide of any kind that would allow access to the contents of the box, but instinctively, she knew there must be a way to open it.

  "I’ve got to hand it to you, Jack… this is quite a mystery!"

  "Don’t hand it to me just yet…" Jack said, word-playing her confusion. "See what you can discover about it on your own."

  Again, Colleen turned the box over and over. She began to notice the figures carved into the long sides of the box. Strange animals and human shapes with distended bodies and heads covered the surface. A jumble of creature-like arms filled one whole side. She closed her eyes, thinking perhaps another of her senses could better solve the riddle. She felt the figures with her fingertips. Eventually, when she held the box a certain way, it felt more comfortable to hold and molded to her hand.

  When she opened her eyes, a figure she had overlooked before was pointed directly up at her. It was a scarab… decidedly Egyptian. The base of the scarab was undercut away from the box, and that, she reasoned, might allow it to slide.

  She pushed in every direction but couldn’t get any movement and was about to give up, when out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Jack’s facial reaction urging her on. At last, when she both pushed in and slid the scarab toward the edge, she felt something move and a seam became visible. While she held the scarab figure pushed in, she slid the end away from the body and it was open!

  Before Jack could stop her, she plunged her fingers into the box and immediately pulled them out bleeding. Jack reached for a napkin to wrap her fingers to stop the blood, now dripping profusely onto the black tablecloth.

  "You are both impetuous and courageous, my dear." Jack said as he wrapped her fingers tightly. "Two characteristics, I confess, that I find irresistible." Their eyes met, but he dared not hold her gaze for long. He knew this woman was very special and he was starting to fall for her in a big way, and that always made him overcompensate and move too fast.

  Jack quickly changed the subject. "You have done well, and passed the first test of the mystery." He said as he broke off his gaze and turned his attention to the contents of the box.

  "I certainly hope there isn’t any more blood letting involved!" Colleen said as she removed the napkin and held her fingers to her lips.

  "I should hope not!" Jack said apologetically.

  Jack took the box from her and gently tilted the open end toward the table. As he increased the incline, a beautiful stone knife slid out of its puzzle box. The handle was golden onyx and intricately carved with more strange symbols. The blade was shiny and black, made of obsidian with a double edge as sharp as a scalpel.

  "This knife is no stranger to blood… as you can attest. Its origin however, is the mystery I would like your help in solving." Jack said, his eyes dancing again in anticipation.

  Colleen carefully picked up the knife and was impressed by its weight and balance. She began to examine the carvings and workmanship of the blade and puzzled at the way the blade fit into the handle without any visible seam or joint. She marveled how the handle fit so comfortably in her hand.

  "I’m no archeologist, but shouldn’t this be in a museum?" Colleen said after inspecting the exquisite craftsmanship of the piece.

  "Yes, probably, but I’m not keen on Honduran prisons… so, I think I’ll keep it with me for a bit longer." He said smiling.

  "Okay, …Honduran prison? What’s this all about?" Colleen said looking at Jack with a perplexed expression.

  "I guess you’ve earned some background, my dear." Jack said. "Twenty years ago I went to Honduras with an archeological dig team– one of my professors organized the trip for the summer. We were among the first to clear an area of Mayan occupation that had been discovered using satellite imagery. After a month, we were making pretty good progress on two of the sites."

  As Jack talked Colleen inspected her bleeding fingers.

  "I was just a college grunt on the dig… a "beast of overburden" as we called ourselves. Fit only to roll the growing piles of already sifted and inspected dirt off site. Anytime a real discovery was made, the site boss would kick us off and bring in the grad students. Ours was a pretty menial job. We used to joke that the mind-numbing, backbreaking work of actually sifting the dirt we hauled was our promotion in waiting, Jack chuckled.

  "Anyway, one day I was pushing a heavy wheelbarrow of dirt to a newly opened dump site when the weight of the load shifted, causing me to lose control of it on a steep hillside. I struggled to keep it from falling over, but finally had to go with it and ended up running
down the hill straight toward a tree. When I veered to miss it, I broke right through the ground and fell into a dark underground opening!"

  Colleen’s attention shifted from her injury to Jack’s story.

  "Luckily, my fall was broken by landing on my feet on the dirt in the wheelbarrow, and as my eyesight slowly grew accustomed to the dark, I realized I had blundered into an elaborately carved Mayan ceremonial room!"

  ‘Oh Jack," Colleen said. "How fabulous!"

  "I saw Mayan carvings everywhere I looked! They were on each wall, wonderfully preserved and so rich with color, it looked like a museum exhibit! There was just one hitch," Jack said as Colleen hung on his next sentence.

  "I was standing about six or seven feet below the opening I had made in the ceiling. At first I tried to stand on the wheelbarrow to get back out. No luck. I realized news of this discovery would get me that "promotion" for sure and struggled to come up with a way out. I started looking around for something I could use as a ladder, and that’s when I heard the gunshots from outside." Jack paused, and then began again with more urgency in his voice.

  "Tomb robbing had always been night work, and it had happened a few times on digs my professors had been on. They would show up the next morning and find their sites tossed about, holes dug, stones pulled over, that sort of thing. But increasingly, the robbers were getting bolder. As a deterrent, when a find was discovered, most groups brought in armed guards to secure the sites at night. This forced the robbers to anticipate who was making the most headway and attack once the heavy lifting had been accomplished, but before any night guards were hired. That meant a bold daytime attack and real casualties if the dig members didn’t give way and run into the jungle.

  "When I heard the gunshots, I knew it was trouble. Not so much from the danger of the robbers, but that I couldn’t rely on my buddies to come look for me and get me out! We had been told to drop everything and clear out fast if we were ever attacked, so I was looking at the prospect of staying in this hole for a long time!"

  Jack’s pace quickened more.

  "I started pulling at the carvings, looking for anything, loose stones or slabs on the wall, or anything lying around that I could pile up on the floor. I finally managed to pull a large stone slab away from the wall, almost crushing my foot when it fell!" Jack said excitedly, enjoying the rapt attention Colleen was paying to the story.

  "When I rolled it over toward the pile under the hole in the roof, I saw it had a compartment in it! And in that compartment was this box!"

  Colleen’s eyes got big as she picked up the knife with newfound interest.

  "So, where does the Honduran prison come in?" Colleen said as she slowly turned the knife in her hand again.

  "Well, I finally pulled enough stones from the wall to make a rubble pile large enough to drag the wheelbarrow up and climb out of the hole. Let me stop here and say how devastated I was to desecrate that room. It went against everything I believed in to harm a priceless relic like that, but I had no idea if the robbers would find me in there, and I wasn’t about to volunteer to be a sitting duck! Especially if it meant being the only "expendable" witness to a Mayan treasure like that!

  "I stuffed the box in my shirt and climbed out of the hole, and made my way back to camp as quietly as I could. All the vehicles were gone and I could hear the robbers nearby, so I grabbed my pack from my tent and took off through the jungle in a direction I thought was toward a nearby town."

  Jack stopped to catch his breath. He could see Colleen was being more than just polite; she was genuinely interested in his story.

  "By the time I finally found civilization, I had unknowingly crossed the border, automatically making me a criminal in the eyes of the Honduran government…."

  "I’m sure they would accept it back" Colleen said with a wry smile that acknowledged Jack’s attachment to the piece. "Perhaps anonymously?" Colleen teased.

  "Well, we haven’t gotten to the mystery yet…."

  "There’s more?" Colleen asked.

  "Oh yes. Much more. Now where was I?" said Jack. "Oh, in Guatemala… right. Realize, I just wanted to get home at that point, but I have this with me" Jack says nodding toward the box.

  "So I booked a flight and arrived at Customs back in Miami. They asked if I had anything to declare. Well, I had already decided to come clean and had put it on my declaration list.

  "I called it a 'wooden box', and put a $100 value on it." Jack looked a skeptical Colleen right in the eye as if to hammer home his claim.

  "Hey, I didn’t buy it, I found it, right? I hadn’t even gotten it open at that point! How am I supposed to know what this stuff is worth? I’m a beast of overburden, remember?" Jack said feigning defensiveness.

  "Well, you’d think I was smuggling in the crown jewels for God’s sake. Customs swarmed all over that box, turning it this way and that and I missed my connection. Then I missed the next one! And I’m about ready to tell them to keep the goddamned thing, when a specialist shows up and says I’m free to go! Then he hands me the box!

  "Not to push my luck, more out of curiosity really, I ask why he’s letting me keep the box.

  "You know what this so-called 'expert' tells me? He tells me it’s just a cheap tourist knockoff! Says it isn’t genuine, and any archeologist worth his salt would spot it as a fake in a minute!

  "I say why’s that?

  "He said because it has symbols and carvings from all over… Egypt and Mesopotamia, Central America, and some he’d never even seen before…impossible to be authentic because those civilizations never had any trade together– weren’t even flourishing in the same centuries!

  "Imagine that, I say, playing along…. a hundred bucks, shot to hell!

  "So I put it back in my pack and have had it ever since!"

  Colleen sat mesmerized by Jack’s story.

  "Later," Jack continued, "I did some checking. Governments do indeed want to repatriate stolen cultural items, but there's a catch. If an item can’t be identified as being from their culture, they have no claim to it. This thing has so many different heritages, it can’t be claimed by any single country!"

  Colleen was transfixed. Jack could see her mind working, heading down the same road he had when he first contemplated the pedigree of this amazing object. She turned the knife over and over. She picked up the box again and inspected it inside and out, how it held the knife securely inside while giving no clue to its contents from the outside. She slid the end on and back off… and each time she did, Jack could see her dismiss another theory.

  Finally, Colleen put it down and folded her hands.

  "This is indeed the best mystery I have ever seen," she said, looking bewildered and impressed at the same time.

  Jack was smiling. He only showed the knife to a few select friends, those who would appreciate its ancestry and who might just be able to shed some additional light on its history.

  "I have another piece of the puzzle that I’ve been able to find on the carvings," Jack said almost as an afterthought.

  Colleen looked up and into Jack’s eyes, distracting his train of thought for a moment.

  "More?" she said.

  Jack nodded. "It isn’t exactly what you'd would call an authoritative source, but, …I let a Guru look at it one time… to see if it had any karma, you know…" Jack looked a bit sheepish as he continued.

  "The guru said it had been on Atlantis. Said he was sure of it. How he was sure I don’t know, but it makes as much sense as anything else."

  After another minute or so of contemplation, Jack asked "Well, are you ready for my theory?"

  "Let me take a stab at it." Colleen said with a broad grin, obviously pleased to match awful puns with his.

  Colleen started off slow and built up her pace as she presented her theory.

  "This knife was part of some ritual in the Middle East around 2,000 BC, pre Bronze Age I’d guess, due to the lack of a metal blade. It is probably from the mountainous region of Iran, since obsidian is on
ly found in volcanic regions, and they were the only civilization capable of crafting such high quality at the time. Then it traveled to Mesopotamia, and collected some of its handle markings like this bearded bull." Colleen had seen photos of similar Mesopotamian carvings with the distinctive bulls with long braided beards in a book on the Louvre in Paris.

  "Then on to Egypt, where it acquired the puzzle box, a favorite craft among the Egyptian people for millennia. From there it went to Greece, and was probably owned by seafarers, who carved the many-legged creature here on the side. Then out the Mediterranean to Atlantis, where it acquired some of the more mysterious markings and text; before finding its way to the Mayan culture before about AD500! How was that?" Colleen asked through a beaming smile. Her eyes sparkled a vibrant shade of violet.

  It was Jack’s turn to be captivated. He knew he was in love now. How many times had he chided himself for holding out for the perfect woman? And yet, here she was, in the flesh, and he hadn’t even been looking for her.