“Are you going to let me finish?” Blair arched her eyebrow at me and I compliantly pretended to zip my mouth shut. I spared her any zipping sound effects so as not to roil her temper. I didn’t want to ruin my chances of getting every detail.
She took a deep breath and said, “Inside the cave, Patrick noticed there were constellations etched into the sandstone wall. Not too shocking since we were near the observatory. They were basic and easy to recognize—even I knew what most of them were. Patrick’s Hacky Sack rolled down into the middle of the cave and it seemed to spiral around a depression in the floor. He had to chase it around this sunken circle to retrieve it and he got double vision when he looked up. That’s when he noticed the cave was designed to be unlocked while you are spinning in the center of it. At this point, I started to get a little freaked out because the back of this cave had the same feeling as St. Mary’s sacristy. You remember the time we went back there and had that weird feeling that we weren’t supposed to be there?”
I nodded. Mrs. Delaney had to drop something off in the church office and we had wandered into a door behind the chancel. Blair and I did not say anything to each other but there was a heavy hush to the room and we simply looked at each other and ran back out to the open area under the great dome of the church.
“It was just like that. You know, like I was trespassing but didn’t know why. I was about to tell Patrick it was time to leave when he started following a trail of small red stones that were in the constellations on the wall. They had not looked related to me but then he reached his hand up to touch a white rock and the wall in front of us moved. When he gave it a push, it revealed a small hidden chamber filled with spectacular books.”
“How cool…” I said in awe.
“It was so amazing, Whitney. I got completely carried away and ended up giving Patrick a hug! Me! Before I had time to feel completely mortified, he kissed me. Right there in front of one of the biggest treasure finds I had ever seen. Can you believe he did that?” I nodded vigorously to encourage her to keep talking. “It was the best first kiss ever,” Blair sighed. She tucked a curl behind her ear. “It was so effortless. So incredible. Do you know what I mean?”
I dreamily thought back to the most recent kiss with Reid where his mind swirled mists of color into a cloud of purple haze and he managed to overwhelm all of my senses.
Blair laughed. “OK, I can see by the look on your face you know exactly what I mean. I don’t need to ask who you are thinking about but let me tell you what we found because I think you will want to check it out before we see the spiritual leader tomorrow.”
The wafting smell of smoke and onions from a dinner fire reminded me Reid and I had not eaten. My stomach rumbled and I went into Reid’s backpack to grab a container of Helga’s food.
A scrap of paper had gotten caught under one of Helga’s yellow post-it notes, and scribbled in Reid’s handwriting was a phone number. The paper was an ATM receipt for $300. Silently, I flipped the piece of paper over to search for more information. It was blank.
“Any idea what this could be about?” I asked Blair as I showed her the scrap of paper. Blair scanned it and I knew Blair would know if it was the phone number for someone at Gramercy. She easily had memorized the school directory.
“That’s Jeb Gillis’s phone number. Maybe it is something for football? That’s a nice chunk of change, though, and exceeds my ATM withdrawal amount. I’ll keep my ears open.”
I nodded in appreciation. The fact that I could count on Blair meant everything to me. I had once told Reid it was an elite and sparse list of those I trusted. What was special about Blair was her depth of character and drive to support the greatest good for the greatest number of people.
“Yeah, all right. I hope we can get the spear tomorrow and get out of here. I’ve got a ton of homework waiting for me back home.” I looked up into the darkening night sky and saw it was unfolding with stars. There was no electricity in the village and the expanse of celestial horizon was astonishing. I returned the scrap of paper and noticed there was a snack-size bag of Rold Gold pretzels. In mock Helga style, Reid had used his best cursive to write “DPD Antidote” on a yellow post-it note followed by a prescription for Whitney Forbes. According to the note, warning signs of DPD included crankiness, silence, hunger, and unprovoked bouts of stubborn behavior. I couldn’t help but smile as I opened the bag and savored his cleverness. Where were they anyway? Buying water couldn’t take this long.
Blair pulled out a flashlight and her sleeping bag. She started to inflate a travel pillow and it made me wish I had brought one. A balled up shirt on a hard floor wasn’t much but it would have to do. “Don’t look at me like that,” Blair said in between puffs. “I didn’t bring one for you as a favor. Duh. This way you can snuggle up with Reid. I’m sure his chest will be a comfortable headrest.”
I was about to protest except I heard the sound of the gate bang shut followed by the deep boom of Reid’s laugh in the courtyard. It silenced me on the subject and Blair couldn’t resist pausing long enough to say, “Don’t worry, you’ll thank me later. Besides, this solves all the sleeping issues. You and I will sleep in the middle and Reid and Patrick will each sleep on the end. I have my own air mattress in my sleeping bag so I will be like my own island above the three of you.” She was right. It did solve everything without any awkward explanations. Blair relished operational management and I loved her for it.
“Good. Excellent planning, as per usual,” I said with relief.
Reid called up the stairs, “Blair, I hope you brought plenty of medicine on this trip. I’ve given away my first aid kit.” What? Had there been another emergency? He reached the top of the stairs and pointed at the Rold Gold pretzels. “Looks like I’m out of DPD pretzel antidote as well. No worries, better to stabilize our fearless leader before tomorrow.”
Patrick and Blair gave him a confused look and he read the unchanged question of worry on my face about his first aid kit. He cleared his throat and explained, “Apparently, as white-skinned people we were already regarded as healers and this impression was further validated when I held up the bottle of chloroquine medicine to the doctor for the little village girl’s bee sting. But, thanks to Blair and her quick draw on the EpiPen, the villagers believe we have the power to bring back the dead.”
“Will you stop joking around and start making sense?” Blair scoffed. She closed the valve on her puffed travel pillow and patted her velour-covered rectangle with satisfaction.
“I’m not joking. That’s why I was mobbed on our way to get bottled water. People were calling Patrick and me ‘Zeru’ as we walked down the street. Tiembo said this was a dangerous term because it was usually reserved for African albinos. ‘Zeru’ is Swahili for ghost or a ghost creature and that doesn’t sound real positive,” Reid explained as he grabbed a can of Chef Boyardee out of his backpack and a small tub of sterno.
“Blair? Patrick?” he offered as he held up the can. They declined, probably because they had eaten in the village and knew Reid could not eat much of the food here. “Whitney—we don’t have Helga but we do have Chef Boyardee. Spaghettios or ravioli? It’s a limited selection but Helga packed enough for you. Do me a favor and eat it so I don’t have the extra weight on my back.”
I nodded my agreement before my stomach rumbled and answered for me. He lit the sterno with a lighter and used the can opener from his Swiss army knife. Blair eyed the knife across the blue sterno flame to see what model he had and how many tool features would be on it.
I felt Reid in my mind and thought about what Diana had told us about Vlad Dune. Albino people were in grave danger in Africa and if we were grouped with them we could be as well. Somehow, our purpose here must be greater than the spear if “Zeru” meant ghost and Dr. West claimed I was the leader of a ghost army. Army seemed like the wrong word for our small group of four people. There must be some mistake.
Blair paced, obviously anxious. Reid tried to calm her concern. “Tiembo and s
ome of his friends are out front guarding the door to the compound. There is no reason to worry about the villagers bothering us tonight. Tiembo and I told them we would be staying here for at least a week. We can stay and try and locate the spear or head back to the cave transport tonight.”
“We can’t head back until you see those books Patrick found, Whit,” Blair vented. It surprised Reid and the rest of us that Blair was not anxious about the villagers but that she did not want to leave until the books were recovered. “It would be criminal to let them waste away there. Who knows what is inside them? And their exterior alone is like nothing I have ever seen. The covers are embedded with gems and stones and rich calligraphy. These books are works of art. I don’t know how they got into this cave but I do know we need to find out their meaning.” Blair had an unshakable sense of responsibility. Doing the right thing no matter the surrounding circumstance gave her incredible courage and determination. Her vote to stay was loud and clear and she made a strong case for it.
I scooped up more of my Spaghettios and nodded. “OK. I hear you. I know that Timbuktu was once one of the great spiritual and intellectual capitals of the world. When the Malian empire began to fall, many books from the great libraries were removed and hidden in caves. It sounds like you have found some of them. We will go there tomorrow on our way to see the Hogon.”
“The books have great value and I agree with Blair that we must get them out. I could tell some of the books’ pages were gilded with gold. I’m certain I can find the passage again…” Patrick added.
The word gold triggered the thought that was ambling through my mind since we landed in Timbuktu: that the city was said to be an African El Dorado. It was bizarre that the city had this name since it was a city of earth and sand. There was no visible gold and culturally the only accepted display of wealth was through books. Even accounting for my American bias, there seemed to be something missing from the historical record of Timbuktu as the city faded into legend and then virtually disappeared into myth. Was it possible for something to have been lost in translation? Lost in translation—I mulled over the phrase. Maybe that was it. Perhaps I was misunderstanding El Dorado. I decided to ask the best language specialist I knew to clarify the meaning. “Reid, can you define the word dorado?”
Reid did not even take a second to think about it. He automatically answered, “It comes from the root of dorar and it means ‘to gild.’” Reid looked up and considered this was an odd time for a pop quiz. I could see the shadow of interest cross his face from the pale glow of the sterno. He recognized Patrick had said the word “gilded” with gold a second ago.
“Bear with me a second. Would you mind translating dorado in the context of El Dorado for me, please?”
His eyes glinted with intrigue and he confidently squared his shoulders. “Technically, it means ‘The Golden One’ or one who outshines the others. The Spanish Conquistadors popularized the meaning as a city instead of a person and that is how we commonly know it today. Are you thinking this might have something to do with a Light Bringer?” Reid asked with excitement in his eyes.
I nodded. Something of great importance brought the Cloccans here and caused them to create a silent and sophisticated transport. The technology was cutting edge but the pathways were old. I had a feeling the Cloccans had known the spear was here all along and we were waiting for the right person to retrieve it. But why me? Why us?
“There is a saying here, ‘Salt from the north, gold from the south and silver from the country of the white men, but the word of God and the treasures of true wisdom can only be found in Timbuktu.’ The thought occurred to me when Patrick mentioned the gilded pages of the books. The wealth is IN the books. It is knowledge that leads to enlightenment and this is important information for us to get to the spear.” I was breathless as my thoughts came tumbling out into words. Enlightenment was what a child of the Way sought above all else. It was true harmony with nature and involved the knowledge of innate timing.
“That was one heroic answer. I must have missed Alex Trebek and the awful thinking music. Clearly, I had no idea it was time to reveal the final answer on Jeopardy,” Patrick joked. “Are you disqualified since you forgot to say it in the form of a question?”
Blair laughed and I laughed. Blair added, “Get used to it, Patrick. She retains the strangest bits of information but can’t remember her license plate.”
“Jokes aside, the real question is does Whitney think we are in actual jeopardy? This is sounding a lot more complicated than dropping into the Hogon’s hut and picking up a legendary spear that’s been on loan for centuries. What’s your call, Whit?” Reid’s casual tone did not hide his undercurrent of worry. From the beginning, this trip made him edgier than usual. It was one more thing on this trip that did not seem to fit.
I looked at him suspiciously but he simply blinked back at me. He was not going to try to sway me, although I understood he must have been feeling something I could not sense. I would make the decision based on what I felt was right and then confer with him later.
“At this point, we are staying and going to Patrick’s cave at first light.” Patrick and Blair looked visibly relieved through the ashy darkness. “One final translation I would like to know is if the word ‘Dogon’ has one. I was not able to find out what the name means at the library.”
The way Reid considered my request for a second gave me a clue that there was not a direct translation. “The tribe calls themselves Dogon but they are also called ‘Habe,’ a Fulbe term meaning ‘stranger.’ The Dogon tribe is not originally from here.”
“Yeah, like Diana said, the Dogon are thought to be actually of Egyptian descent. That is how astronomers explain their advanced knowledge. They picked it up before they came to the desert,” Patrick said nonchalantly.
The image of the Masonic National Memorial from our hometown of Alexandria, Virginia, appeared in my mind. The monument was a replica of the ancient lighthouse of Alexandria, Egypt. I did not expect a waking vision of it while sitting on a rooftop in Mali.
“Whitney, are you shocked about the Dogon or that I know a lot about astronomy?” Patrick joked. I closed my third eye and wiped the shock off my face. I didn’t want Reid to question me about it since I didn’t know myself what the lighthouse vision meant.
I cleared my throat and regained my composure. “I thought you had a brain rattling around in there, Patrick. Everyone on this team has something to contribute to our success and I am glad you shared it with us.”
“Thank you. Thank you very much.” His voice was thick and had a southern slur like Elvis. Patrick jerked his shoulders in an awkward dance move and Blair started laughing. Then he finished explaining about the Dogon. “In that case, allow me to explain further the magnitude of their knowledge. For thousands of years, the Dogon oral traditions said that the Earth revolved around the Sun, that Jupiter had moons, and Saturn had rings. They also claimed that the brightest star in our sky, Sirius, was more than one star even though Sirius B was not confirmed via telescope. They even believe a third star exists called Sirius C that no telescope can find at the moment.” Patrick’s information was curious and interesting but did not seem to warrant the degree of Patrick’s excitement.
“That’s cool,” Reid said politely but was more interested in scraping the Spaghettios up the side of the bowl.
“Yeah, but what is REALLY cool is what the Dogon claim about Sirius C. It is most likely a red dwarf and linked to an ancient ‘Red Controversy,’” Patrick whispered as if it was classified information. Reid looked up from his Spaghettios and we all paid closer attention. “The Red Controversy stems from a handful of ancient astrological observers who list Sirius as one of the red stars of the sky. Some say those ancient observers were mistaken while some say people learned not to admit it.”
“Why wouldn’t they admit it?” Blair questioned, honing in on the oddest part of the mystery.
“Because the people who can see the red radiation of a third
Sirius star have powerful eyesight others do not. The Dogon are thought to be a tribe that still has people with this rare optical ability. Today, the Dogon astronomer told me that he has seen Sirius C with his own eyes.”
Reid gave me a knowing look. I was starting to get a better understanding of how the pure energy exposure had impacted my eyesight.
Patrick continued, “The Dogon astronomer called this theoretical red dwarf the house of mystical energy for future souls. He said it is energy in its purest form and this is exactly the same terminology the ancient Egyptians use. None of it is proven but it is pretty uncanny.”
Patrick’s explanation of the terminology led me to ask Reid one more question. “Reid, one last translation. What does Sirius mean?”
“It is ancient Greek and means to ‘glow or scorch’ as in through heat. The hottest time of the year is called the dog days of summer because Sirius, the dog constellation, is visible at that time,” Reid answered.
“Let me recap all of this. The Dogon say that the mark of their deity, the Nommo, is that they are scorched white. White is the sign of a healer. Sometimes magical healing properties are attributed to an albino person also known as the derogatory term of ‘Zeru’ or a ghost. There seems to be a white link here but I could be mistaken,” I mulled.
“I definitely think this is all linked somehow, Whitney. White, albino, healer, and ghost might all be interchangeable somehow or have various translations of meaning. If the deity is scorched white and that is the mark of someone with higher powers, that could be something we do not want to overlook. Or maybe it means something about the scorched star Sirius itself. Knowledge is power and the more information we have, the better. It’s that one, right?” Blair asked Patrick as she pointed to a twinkling, bright star shining in the darkness.
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