The Twelve

by William Gladstone

  “I have been to those places as well, thanks to the work I did on the films,” he said. “For now, however, I want to thank you again for tonight. It has been more than a relaxing break from my search. I have never felt so much love in a single home. To see you with your grandchildren and entire family was so special.”

  “No, it is I who must thank you,” Maria insisted. “Your call could not have come at a better time in my life. In Izapa I reconnected with my sense of higher purpose. I have had a wonderful life, and yet somehow I feel my life is just beginning again.”

  Then she shooed him out toward the front door of the house.

  “There is a taxi waiting to take you back to your hotel. We have a 1:00 p.m. flight, and we will have many chances to catch up as we travel. In Izapa, with so many people, I did not get a chance to ask you about your life and family. I look forward to getting to know you on this trip.”

  ***

  Max and Maria searched for the One for the next ten days but without success.

  Max had arranged for separate rooms in each hotel, as was appropriate, but they discovered that the deep love that had first united them so many years ago had never died. Alone, and without others to distract them, they could not help but fall in love again.

  They fell into a natural rhythm together that made traveling effortless and fun. They laughed at the stories they told each other, the observations they made, and the people they met. On the train trip to Puno from Arequipa they played cards, and Max was shocked to see how competitive Maria was and how though she never seemed to be paying attention, more often than not she beat him at gin.

  On the hike to Machu Picchu, Max gently took Maria’s hand to help her cross some of the difficult parts of the trail. He could hardly believe the electricity he felt in so casual a touching and once again desire was alive and pulsing throughout his body and his mind.

  By the time they were in Copacabana, Max was holding her hand whenever there seemed a likely excuse. He literally could not keep his hands off her, nor his eyes.

  But Maria kept them focused . . . and searching. Finally, on the last day of their travels on a small island in Lake Titicaca, Maria admitted that she, too, had once again fallen in love with Max.

  “I am disappointed that we have not found the One,” she confessed. “I truly thought that today, on this island, we would succeed. One of our legends is that the era of feminine spirituality will be starting, based right here on Lake Titicaca, just at this time. My Incan ancestors believed that Virachocha had come from this lake and had gone back into it.

  “I am sure that, for most of my ancestors, Virachocha himself would be considered the One,” she explained, “and it seemed hopeful that he might appear to us today.”

  She smiled and looked into Max’s eyes and then continued.

  “But in reality, I am not disappointed at all. When I first met you I knew that on some mystical level you would be the love of my life. That magical moment we shared in the park in Trujillo never ended for me. I loved my husband and the wonderful family we created together, but part of me never stopped loving you.

  “I love you now, and unlike the circumstances when we met, I see no reason we cannot pursue our hearts.”

  Maria held both of Max’s hands and kissed him full on the lips in a kiss that he reciprocated with a passion and gentleness that transported them both, back and forth in time, to places they had been or were destined to travel, in their current and future incarnations. The kiss seemed never-ending, but ever so delicately Maria drew back just as tears from Max’s eyes touched her cheeks.

  “These are tears of joy, my love,” he said. “I have dreamed of this moment throughout my life. I can hardly believe after all these years, I have finally found true earthly love.

  “Somehow I have always felt drawn to you, and safe—knowing that I could be my true self. Seeing you with your children and grandchildren and how giving and generous and nurturing you are with all of them has only confirmed my inner knowing that being with you for all eternity would be the greatest reward of my life.”

  She smiled at him.

  “Max, to know you is to love you. I cannot resist you, and believe that we will be together the rest of our lives. But in this moment you must ready yourself for the boat that will take you back to Puno, and then the train and the flights that will lead you to the remaining members of the Twelve, with whom you must resume the search for the One.”

  Max started to laugh with a combination of relief and pleasure.

  “Yes, but now I have an even greater reason to find the One and to ensure that this planet does not self-destruct in chaos and anarchy.

  “I will see you in Izapa in a little more than a month,” he added, “and on December 22, once the One has been found, we will make plans on how we shall live the rest of our lives in bliss and love.”

  Max smiled as he kissed Maria one last time and prepared to continue his search.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Obstacles

  November–December 2012

  HIS FUTURE WITH MARIA LENT MAX NEW IMPETUS. THEY HAD TO succeed, or all of their dreams would amount to nothing.

  Thus spurred on, he landed in London, where he was met by Yutsky.

  The Israeli had spent some of the best years of his youth in England, making films at Stonehenge, Glastonbury, the Isle of Iona, Glendalough in the Wicklow Hills just south of Dublin, and many of the same sacred sites Max had visited while scouting sites for In Search of Ancient Mysteries. Their tour of these locations, coordinated by the concierge at the Claridges Hotel, was a whirlwind of activity but yielded nothing.

  Finding no trace of the One in the British Isles, Yutsky and Max proceeded to Germany, where they explored the Black Forest and several ancient German castles.

  Still nothing, and Max was beginning to worry. What had seemed to be a sure thing was beginning to feel like a fool’s quest.

  I can’t let myself think like that, he thought grimly. We will succeed.

  From Germany they traveled across France, stopping in Lourdes, at ancient sites in Provence, and then into northern Spain, where they had each had powerful experiences in their youth filming at the prehistoric caves in Santillana del Mar outside of Santander.

  In a little more than a week of traveling, they visited more than twenty sacred sites, yet there was no sign of the One.

  So Yutsky returned with Max to his birthplace of Jerusalem, where they explored the old city, Jericho, Masada, Bethlehem, the Dead Sea, and Galilee.

  Still nothing. Almost one hundred days had passed when he arrived in Istanbul to meet Erol.

  “Max, you must remain calm—it’s always possible that the One will save the best for last,” Erol reassured him. “Yet we must move forward as if he may appear at any moment. First we will make a quick visit to Greece, where I visited as a boy, and then I will show you the true beauty of the world, which is my homeland of Turkey.

  “Turkey is the most sacred of all countries. If the One has chosen to enjoy life he will have come back as a Turk. I will show you sites you never dreamed of and beauty beyond all imagining—including the site where Noah’s Ark was found. I know every inch of this land, and I have made arrangements for us to visit it all within the allotted time.”

  Despite his friend’s unquenchable enthusiasm, however, and the beauty of his Turkish homeland, their search proved fruitless.

  ***

  From Istanbul, Max flew to Nepal to meet with Rinpoche and retrace Rinpoche’s flight from the monasteries, where the Buddhist himself was believed to be a sacred reincarnation of their ancient masters.

  They continued to the forests in which Rinpoche had toiled while imprisoned in the work camp, but despite the magical mists and the stillness in which they hiked for many days, there was no sign of the One.

  When Max said goodbye to Rinpoche, both of them knew that they would reunite in just twelve days in Izapa. Max’s anxiety was beginning to show, and Rinpoche tried to reassure
him.

  “Do not worry,” he said. “I am certain the energy of the One is with us even now—I can feel it. I know we have not yet found him, not in incarnated form, but surely the One is waiting for you in India with C.D.

  “Travel safely, and we will reunite soon.”

  ***

  Max flew directly from Tibet to Delhi, where he learned that Shilpa and C.D. had planned their internal travels throughout India beginning with Leh, high in the Himalayas and back in the direction of Tibet.

  From Leh, they visited an ancient monastery where Shilpa had studied as a child and where she had taken a long summer vacation when C.D. had just been born. This monastery was the most sacred in all of India, and there were even rumors that Jesus Christ himself had visited it.

  Shilpa thought it would be a likely place for the One to reside. But she was wrong.

  From Leh they trekked by car back to Srinagar. It was now almost mid-December, and they narrowly overcame the snows in the passes, which were treacherous to maneuver. Nevertheless, they came no closer to finding the One in Srinagar, so they flew to Rishikesh on the Ganges, where as a boy C.D. had spent summers with one of his uncles.

  Rishikesh proved to be a dead end, as had all of the rest, and it was December 18—time to board the flight to Mexico City and then to Izapa.

  ***

  Having begun the quest with so much optimism and enthusiasm, Max was surprised by his apparent failure. C.D. had been his greatest hope, yet the One had not revealed himself to the young Indian or to any of them.

  Yet he refused to give up. There were still two days remaining, and until the twenty-first arrived, there was hope.

  There has to be! he thought passionately.

  With that, he sought out a computer. During his trek in Tibet and the Himalayas, he had been without access to the Internet, and his cell phone had been useless.

  Perhaps the One had appeared to another member of the Twelve.

  ***

  Such was not the case.

  It was time to return to Izapa—with or without the One—and to meet again with the Thirteenth Apostle.

  Then they would learn what was destined to happen on that fateful day when the Mayan calendar—and so many other ancient calendars—ran out.

  With the search at an end, Max spent countless hours poring over B.N.’s book of numbers, beginning with his stay in India and continuing with most of the flight from New Delhi to Mexico City.

  It was clear to him that 21122012 was the answer. It was an eleven and a two and represented both a beginning and an end. The value fluctuated, based on the number system in which it was considered. The number indicated both light and dark and held almost infinite variations of prime and non-prime numbers within it.

  Max’s own extraordinary mathematical talents were tested as never before. The number 21122012 seemed to beg for a human interpretation that would vary, based upon the human who did the calculations.

  Yet try as he might, he could not find that interpretation.

  ***

  When Max, Shilpa, and C.D. arrived at the hotel in Tapachula, it was late in the evening of the twentieth, and all the other members of the Twelve had gathered expectantly, hoping to greet the One. Maria was the first to greet Max, but as soon as she saw his expression, she held back to give him time to speak.

  When he told them that he and C.D. had come alone, they all were crestfallen.

  “How can this be?” Melody said plaintively. “We were certain you and C.D. would find him—or her. What’s going to happen to us and what will become of the world when the calendar ends tomorrow at sunset?”

  Max could tell that several of the others shared her desperation, too. This mysterious mission had demanded complete faith and trust in the process of discovery.

  Each one of the Twelve had entered into what might be their final adventure on Earth with enthusiasm and a certainty that they would prevail.

  Now that the time was drawing near and the One had not surfaced, fears were creeping in.

  “We must not doubt our destinies,” Erol reassured her—and the entire group. “We have searched with open hearts and done all that is possible to serve the request of the Thirteenth Apostle. Surely we shall be rewarded.

  “Tomorrow will be an eventful day, perhaps the last day on this planet as we know it,” he continued. “Let us all be well rested for the challenges. Running Bear, Juan, and Manuel have again secured our meeting place near the cave. We will meet there at 4:00, and the sun is to set at exactly 5:02. That is the minute when the solstice will occur, and the Mayan calendar will end.

  “So, tonight, sleep well, and let no one worry. We must trust in the wisdom of a universe that has brought us all together for this special moment in this special place.”

  ***

  Exhausted from his travels and his unsuccessful attempts to decipher the equations in B.N.’s book of numbers, Max slept until almost noon.

  When he awoke he saw it was a bright, sunny day and decided—just in case this was to be his last day on Earth—to take a swim in the nearby Pacific Ocean. He found Dr. Alan finishing a late breakfast and suggested they take one of the vans to the beach.

  Alan had brought his surfboards and had an extra one for Max to try.

  “I’ve never surfed before,” Max confessed. “It seems strange to have my first lesson on the day that might be our last here on Earth.”

  “Well, when I’m surfing, I feel as if I’m most in touch with whatever the rest of you think of as God,” Dr. Alan replied. “If today is to be the end of time—which I seriously doubt—then there’s nothing I would rather be doing.

  “So let’s go!” he said.

  They loaded the boards into a van. On the way to the beach, Alan confessed that he still had his doubts about the prophecy, despite his encounter with the Thirteenth Apostle and had never entirely believed that the One would be found.

  Yet the experience had been too profound to ignore entirely.

  During the drive Max noticed that a beat-up, old, brown Chevy seemed to be following their van, but after a time he lost sight of it and gave it no further thought. By the time they reached the beach, there was nothing but blue sky and sunshine.

  Dr. Alan handed him a surfboard, and soon Max was crouching and falling, then straddling and falling again.

  Finally, he managed to get into a squatting position on the board, and before he knew it he was catching a ride on a small wave. It was a euphoric victory, and he managed to hold on for a yard or two before losing his balance and crashing into the gentle waves.

  Dr. Alan was enthusiastic in his praise.

  “You have a natural talent, Max,” he said. “I can’t believe you wasted so many years not surfing.”

  “I can’t believe it either,” Max agreed. “My one commitment, if the world is still here tomorrow, is that I’m going to spend more time learning how to surf.”

  “That’s the best idea you have had in a long time,” Dr. Alan shouted over his shoulder as he headed back into the surf. While Max followed, he caught a big wave and took it all the way to the shore.

  Max lay on his board, admiring Dr. Alan’s ability to ride the wave, reaching the beach with a gentle dismount, maintaining his balance all the while. Once on the beach, Dr. Alan pointed to the sun, and then to the van as he started walking away from the water.

  The sun was high in the sky, and Max realized that it was time to go. But he wanted to catch one full wave, so he signaled Alan to start packing up the gear and, with hand signals, indicated that he would be there in five or ten minutes. Then he crouched on his board, looking behind him to see when the next good-sized wave might start to break.

  Suddenly and without warning, Max felt a hand grab his ankle and pull him off the board. Then a second hand grabbed him around the neck and started to pull him down to the bottom of the ocean. The water was only about eight-feet deep, but Max was instantly disoriented and had no idea even where the bottom was or what direction the
shore was.

  He tried to fight off the attacker, but he had been caught off guard and was already choking, entirely unable to breathe. He fought desperately and managed to get to the surface for a brief second—just enough to catch a breath, but then he was overpowered and forced under again.

  He started to lose consciousness.

  He felt weak and unable to resist.

  Before blacking out, Max remembered all the times Louis had tried to choke him, and in a blur he thought he could make out the face of his attacker. It was a man with long, gray hair and vicious eyes that had haunted Max throughout his childhood.

  But it did not matter. Max was already leaving his body.

  He was returning to the peace and bliss of another dimension, of white light, love, and contentment. He looked down and saw his body being grappled and held under the surface.

  He experienced again the twelve names and the twelve colors, and this time a message of forgiveness.

  It’s okay . . . you did your best.

  The end of the world is not your fault.

  ***

  Louis had been placed in a mental institution for thirty days after the incident in Yosemite National Park. When Max failed to appear at the legal hearing, he was released.

  He had remembered what Chill had said about the meeting in Izapa, on December 21, and as soon as he had been released, he had driven down to Mexico and staked out Tapachula’s only modern hotel.

  Finally his patience had been rewarded. He had followed Max and another man to the beach, and once the other left, he had struck.

  Louis wanted to ensure that, whatever else might happen in his life, Max would not be able to achieve his final goal. He gloated to himself as he held Max down. He was also gasping for breath but did not care.

  He was willing to die himself, if it would prevent Max from triumphing.

  ***

  Max resigned himself to the fact that he had failed in his mission, and made ready to enter the white tunnel. Suddenly he saw what looked like Dr. Alan swimming toward the two struggling figures. He turned away from the light.