The Twelve

by William Gladstone

  “December 21, 2012, will mark the end of a twenty-six-thousand-year-long cycle. The ancients did not predict that this would necessarily be the end of the world. Our ancient beliefs are that human beings have free will, and there is the opportunity for a change that could create a better world yet to come.

  “Such are the teachings I have learned from my father.”

  Max was intrigued. Finally, one of the Twelve was expressing knowledge that might be linked to a higher concept that might lead to an explanation of their purpose.

  Of his purpose.

  Things began to fit together. Max had been born on December 12, or 12/12, and his father on November 11, or 11/11.

  Was his life’s purpose somehow linked to the 2012 prophecy?

  Based in part on what he had learned from Dr. Cho Sun Pak, he started to calculate the numerology of his father’s birthday, keeping in mind some of the dates he had just learned from Juan, pertaining to the Mayan calendar. Juan said he had heard about something called a “harmonic convergence,” which had occurred on August 16 and 17, 1987, introducing the final twenty-five years of the Mayan calendar, and for the first time Max started to see a pattern emerging.

  Recognizing that Juan’s background would cause him to accept what others might see as fantastic, Max described his near-death experience and revealed to Juan that he was one of the twelve names.

  Sure enough, Juan just raised his beer bottle and nodded.

  “This does not surprise me,” he said. “My father told me our family had an important role to play in the fulfillment of the ancient prophecies. He would always say, ‘The world is vast and strange and full of mysteries. Do not doubt, even in our humble circumstances, that you have an important role to play in this mystery called life.’”

  Once again, the words of Jane Doff echoed in Max’s head. He was intrigued by this latest connection and wanted to meet Juan’s father.

  “Let me know when you will next be returning to Izapa,” he said earnestly. “I want to meet your father and learn more about the prophesied end-times.”

  “Thus it shall be, my friend,” Juan replied. “I am glad you crashed your car. This has been a most auspicious meeting.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Into the Sunset

  May 2012

  MAX STOOD ON THE EIGHTEENTH TEE AT LA COSTA. THE SUN WAS setting as he powered his drive toward the left-hand side of the fairway, and at the last moment he noticed that there was a golfer in the left rough, just off the fairway about two hundred and thirty yards out.

  Max’s normal drive only went about two hundred yards, so the golfer wouldn’t have normally been in jeopardy. But this was one of the best drives of Max’s life—it traveled two hundred and twenty yards on a fly, hit, and rolled another twenty yards, passing the golfer in the rough.

  “Wow,” exclaimed his golfing partner Kim. “That came close.”

  “We’d better apologize,” Max said.

  As Max approached in his golf cart, with apology written all over his face, a tall African-American man wearing emerald green trousers, turned and smiled.

  “Didn’t even come close,” he said. “No worries. My motto is ‘chill,’ and that’s also my name. I’m Chill Campister.”

  “Well, Chill, thanks for being so gracious,” Max said gratefully. “I really should have looked more carefully before teeing off. And if you’re not too busy, let me buy you a drink in the clubhouse after this hole.”

  “Done deal. Make your par.”

  ***

  Later at the bar, after Max introduced himself, he learned that Chill Campister had become somewhat well known because he had, along with his wife Rachel, won The Amazing Race, a popular television reality show. With the million-dollar prize money, he had decided to take early retirement and go back to school to study filmmaking. Chill told Max that he had been an actor in his youth and had played the young Cassius Clay in I Am the Greatest, the documentary film about Mohammed Ali.

  Max was bowled over, not because of what Chill was telling him, but because Max realized that Chill Campister was the tenth of the twelve names.

  Whatever’s going on, he mused, it’s accelerating.

  In just two days, Max had met numbers nine and ten of the Twelve, when it had taken years for him to meet the others. He wasn’t sure how to react, but because there were other golfers close by, he didn’t feel comfortable revealing the story of the Twelve.

  So he kept his cool.

  He also learned that Chill had written a treatment for a motivational film, based on what he and his wife Rachel had experienced in winning The Amazing Race. When Max revealed that he owned a film company and said that he would be willing to review the project, Chill was thrilled.

  But Max had an ulterior motive. Once he had read the treatment, he felt he could continue his discussion with Chill in private and uncover more of the secrets of the Twelve.

  ***

  Max liked the treatment and felt he would be able to sell it based on the recognition Rachel and Chill had received as very popular winners of the television show. They were the first African-American couple to win the contest, and at the time they had competed, they were also the oldest.

  One of the qualities that came through in the treatment was their strong faith in Jesus. Even on the air, they had never quarreled the way other teams did during the stress of competition, and in their motivational film they wanted to emphasize that faith had been their secret weapon.

  Since the show, they had embarked on speaking tours and become popular motivational speakers putting forth the theme of using faith and teamwork to accomplish miracles.

  Everything they were doing, Max knew, would provide them with a solid platform for a film, a book, and many other materials they might want to develop. So he set up a meeting with both Chill and Rachel in his office and was impressed with their positive and upbeat approach to life. They genuinely exuded love and kindness. They told him even more of their story, and Max learned that at the time they won The Amazing Race, they were on the verge of bankruptcy. Money had been embezzled from a software company Chill had formed years earlier, and if they hadn’t won the television contest, they would have lost their home and all their possessions.

  Max felt as if he had never met a nicer couple, and he invited them both to dinner. They ate at the Chart House Restaurant, looking out over the sea at sunset, and as the evening progressed, Max revealed the story of the twelve names and told Chill that he was the tenth name on the list.

  “I still have no idea what the names are all about, but something is heating up,” he said. “I know it must sound fairly strange to you, but believe me, I’m not crazy. There’s got to be a reason for all of this. I only wish I knew what it was.”

  Chill smiled as he responded to what Max had told him.

  “The Lord works in mysterious ways,” he replied. “As a born-again Christian, I am certain Jesus has brought us together. I see His work in this. Why else would you happen to hit one of the longest drives of your life—right at me?” They all laughed at that.

  “But I was born Jewish,” Max countered. “I’m not sure I even believe in Jesus.” He talked about all of the superficial people he had met when working on the film In Search of the Historical Jesus, and both Chill and Rachel nodded.

  “Jesus is the savior for all peoples,” Rachel said, “not just those who believe in Him.”

  “Absolutely,” Chill agreed. Then he pointed the conversation back in a more analytical direction. “But let’s focus on what you experienced and how these names might be connected. Maybe Jesus has something to do with it and maybe he doesn’t, but the bottom line is that there are no coincidences—it’s all part of a plan.

  “So if there is a list of twelve names, as you say—and I have no reason to doubt you—then I want to know why I am on it.”

  Chill went on to tell Max that in addition to their winnings, he and Rachel had recently been awarded a judgment against their former partne
r who had embezzled the funds from their software company.

  “As a result,” he said, “I have the time and means to assist you in solving this mystery. Just tell me how I can help.”

  Max was relieved to hear that Chill was open to an explanation that might not include Jesus. He was also grateful for the offer of assistance.

  “I have to go to New York for the documentary and training film trade show next week,” he said. “But when I return, let’s get together and focus on solving the puzzle of the Twelve. Perhaps we can organize a trip with Juan to Izapa, Mexico.

  “I don’t know why, but I think Izapa may be one of the keys to this mystery.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Vietnamese Melody

  May 2012

  THE FLIGHT TO NEW YORK WAS QUICK AND PAINLESS. MAX’S MIND was racing for the full five hours. All thoughts of normal business had vanished.

  He had now encountered ten of the people on his list of twelve. Every name seemed to represent a different geographic area, a different religion.

  Chill and Rachel had pointed out that there were twelve apostles and suggested that perhaps that was the reason Max had been given twelve names. Perhaps these were the twelve new apostles, waiting for the return of Jesus.

  Max felt such conjecture fanciful, but he now knew that he had to pursue this mystery with all his energy—and all his focus.

  ***

  Max always stayed at the Yale Club when he visited New York. It was conveniently located near Grand Central Station and was a relative bargain compared to the Grand Hyatt and the other midtown hotels. Max’s company was celebrating its thirtieth anniversary, and he had rented out the Yale Library on the fourth floor, where he was serving French champagne and desserts to celebrate the accomplishment.

  Not many independent film companies had survived for so many years, and it was good business to celebrate the event. MAXimum’s foreign rights manager was especially eager to invite the foreign agents who were so important to the international network.

  Their Vietnamese agent had requested to bring a guest, and Max assumed the guest would be a girlfriend or wife. So he had approved the request.

  The party was a huge success, with more than two hundred guests. Toward the end of the event a short Asian man with a tall, slender, Asian girl as his companion introduced himself.

  “I am Do Van from Vietnam,” he said. “This is my niece, Melody Jones. Melody lives here in New York and is studying to be a ballerina. I am so grateful that you invited us to this wonderful event.”

  But Max found it impossible to concentrate on what the man was saying, as the now-familiar sensation assaulted his senses.

  Melody was the eleventh name from the list of Twelve.

  In the space of less than a week, he had met the owners of three of the final four names. Yet with the festivities still winding down, he didn’t want to show his excitement, so he replied calmly.

  “No, it is I who am grateful that you have joined us,” he said, shaking Do Van’s hand. “I am quite pleased with the wonderful work you’ve been doing with our rights in Vietnam.”

  Turning to Melody, he continued.

  “You are simply beautiful,” he said. “Thank you for accompanying your uncle and favoring us with your presence.” He wanted to say much more but did not.

  Melody was wearing an orange dress and moved with the grace of the dancer she was. She was confident and assured and clearly comfortable with social situations such as this one.

  He wasn’t certain how to reveal to Melody that she was one of the Twelve. Yet he knew he had to find a way.

  “Would you be willing to join me for dinner tomorrow night?” he said, addressing both of them.

  “Thank you, but that isn’t necessary,” Do Van responded.

  “It would be my pleasure,” Max insisted. “You do such excellent work on behalf of the company, I won’t take no for an answer.”

  Do Van accepted, but Melody explained that she had arranged to meet her boyfriend and wouldn’t be able to make it.

  “Nonsense,” Max said quickly. “I’d be thrilled if he could join us, too.”

  She agreed, and they arranged to meet.

  ***

  The next day Max found himself uncharacteristically anxious, uncertain as to whether or not Melody would show up as she had promised. After years of starting and stopping, with revelations followed by long periods of nothing, the mystery of the Twelve was moving forward at a headlong pace.

  And Melody was a pivotal part of finding the answer that had eluded him for so long—ever since that moment, years ago, when the names had first slipped through his fingers. He couldn’t allow anything of that sort to happen again.

  However, when he arrived at the restaurant, he was thrilled that Melody was there with her uncle and her boyfriend, Matthew Jordan. It seemed that Matthew had been an award-winning competitive surfer and had done a lot of hallucinogenic drugs in his day.

  During dinner Max chatted with Do Van and found him both refined and intelligent. Yet it was all he could do to keep his mind on any given topic.

  Then Max turned to Melody and asked her about her life. She told him that her grandmother and her mother—who was only seventeen at the time—had been boat people who had escaped from Vietnam in 1971, as the Vietnam War was coming to an end. They were brutalized by pirates and raped.

  After great suffering they had arrived in New York and were able to rebuild their lives, though it took Melody’s mother many years to deal with the trauma she had experienced. She had worked at many jobs and finally found her calling, working in set design for various theaters around town.

  She met a choreographer, Anton Jones, and after a year of courtship, they had married. Melody was their youngest child and the only one who had sought to pursue a life associated with dance and the theater.

  “My grandmother feels it was a real miracle they were not murdered at sea,” Melody said. “She told me many times that there’s a story that our family was destined to ‘create heaven on earth,’ and says that is why they were spared.

  “Whenever I misbehave, she tells me that I was born to fulfill a destiny and that I must behave better, or the miracle of their escape will have been in vain.” She smiled at the memory.

  Do Van remained silent and listened to her story. He simply nodded his head in agreement—and with some sense of sorrow.

  He excused himself so that he could make a phone call and Max—thoroughly taken with Melody’s story and family prophecy—decided to reveal the story of the Twelve.

  After he had recounted the details of his near-death experience, he named the twelve names, ending with “Running Bear.” He expected Melody to be skeptical, but to his relief she listened intently and was very curious.

  The entire time, Matthew just sat at her side, looking from Melody to Max and back again, listening intently.

  “Please write down all twelve names,” she asked Max. “Let me see if I can find a connection.”

  Though her request surprised him, Max wrote the names on a napkin, and Melody studied them for a long while. Finally, after several minutes, she looked up.

  “I’m afraid I recognize none of these names,” she said. “I can’t see any connection—there’s nothing I can do to help you.”

  Then Matthew asked to look at the list.

  “This last name—Running Bear,” he said after a moment. “Have you met him yet?”

  “No,” Max admitted. “That’s now the last name on the list. Why do you ask? Do you know such a person?”

  “No,” Matthew replied, much to Max’s disappointment. “But my dad, Toby, is part Native American. This must be a Native American name. If anyone knows a Running Bear it would be my dad.

  “He lives in San Clemente, not far from where you said you live. Let me borrow your cell phone for a minute, and I’ll check this out.”

  Max handed Matthew the phone, and within minutes Toby was on the line.

  He confirmed
that he knew a tour guide in Sedona, Arizona, who went by the name Running Bear.

  Max could hardly believe his ears. He and Toby talked and agreed to meet the following weekend in Sedona, where they would try to find Running Bear.

  Max’s hands trembled with excitement as he hung up, and the reality of it all set in. He realized that, within days, he might finally meet the last of the Twelve.

  But what then?

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Red Rocks

  June 2012

  TOBY JORDAN WAS A SURFING LEGEND.

  He had won many tournaments in his youth but was even better known for surfing photography. This had led him to surf films and later a career as an artist creating montages that used actual surfboards as well as paint and other materials in the creation of unique sculptures.

  In addition, Toby had founded a business for designing surfboards and selling surfing accessories. Because of his artistic temperament, he was friends with many major artists whose works he featured.

  Toby’s two sons had also been champion surfers, and his eldest son, Matthew, was known for acrobatic jumps and similar exploits that other surfers hadn’t even imagined.

  Toby had fought drinking problems as a youth. He always blamed it on his Native American heritage that he had no resistance to alcohol, and so, as a young adult, he decided never to drink alcohol again. Combined with his commitment to surfing, this contributed to a healthy lifestyle, and he added extensive hiking to his repertoire, thus opening himself up to an entire new world for his photography.

  One of his favorite areas for hiking and photography was Sedona, Arizona, a small city in the high, southwestern desert, famed for its stunning red rock formations. He made a pilgrimage there at least once a year, so it didn’t take much coaxing to get him to agree to make a quick trip with Max.

  They made the drive in a single day, and along the way Max shared the story of the Twelve. Toby, in turn, filled Max in on everything he knew about Running Bear, who he said was the best tour guide in Sedona. Running Bear knew all the secret caves and sacred Indian sites.