by B French
“Can you tell us any more of this ‘Custodian’, Magnus? I remember you teaching some of this in class, about trans-Atlantic crossings, and migrations of early native tribes- huge demons with glowing, red eyes; the stuff that kept us interested in this boring ever had. I believe he and the over some incident regarding a field-of-archaeology.”
Magnus gave a chuckle and thought for several moments, “If we look to the ancient scriptures, they tell us of a battle in the heavens. One third of the heavenly hosts were cast from above, to this earth; whether, we deem this true or not, there are incredible stories of Greek gods and oracles that spoke prophesy; also, Nordic tales of great wonders and wisdom. In the archaeological sites around the world, there are amazing designs and structures, some built with outstanding enginerial calculation of which we are still analyzing to this day. If these structures were built by the intellect of man alone, then we have lost the gift.” He reached over to grasp the small, stemmed crystal glass and took a sip of his aperitif.
“Apart from very few gifted individuals, we have been unable to break beyond the constraints of our limited thought-processes. Technologically and spiritually, we are still struggling to find our identities and place in the universe. Some academia would have us right dead-center at the apex of intelligence. We know for a fact, that the earth occupies one billionth of a billionth of space, if there is such a thing. I have come to believe that all animal life, up till man’s introduction to earth, was to form a ‘prototype being’ of systematic, bodily functions. This body-vehicle allows us, a ‘spirit based being’, to live within the density of the earth’s environment, and yet not be affected, for the most part, by the gravity, electronic fields, and the bombardment of cosmic rays from the sun. You may ask, why so isolated spiritually from this collective genius; the creator wishes to share and cohabit with us, His creation.”
Magnus took another sip and thought for several more seconds. All sat quietly, listening and digested his words along with much mutton and desert. “But, we cannot do it alone, without example,” he continued. “The Gods of Greece and the pantheon, were meant to inspire us, but did quite the opposite. This being, the Custodian, has manipulated us into his own domain for his own purpose and survival.”
“Come on Mag, lighten up,” Henry chimed from the kitchen.
“The human race has become like a rich man’s son, who has no desire to go out and work to make a place for himself in society. Instead, he wishes to stay at home and laze, and on occasion go out and party with his friends. In so doing, he visualizes only one aspect of his existence. His father begins to realize that his son can never be like him, because there is no way for him to absorb the valuable lessons needed to be learned to make him a treasured participant in the world. He needs to go out and experience, first hand, those involvements that will help him develop an understanding, empathy for the entire physical world around him. Once the son begins to see the potential for his existence, the son begins to grow.”
Steve sat wide eyed in quiet dismay, moving every few moments to ease the ache of bruised bones and stretched muscles. “So you think this guy has been around for thousands of years?”
“Really,” Edmundo suggested, looking toward Amalia who seemed intent on hearing the story.
“More wine,” asked Henry adorned with wash apron, bubbling out from behind the kitchen counter, wine decanter in hand.
“I’ll have some more,” reacted Brian, reaching out his empty glass. “This is interesting stuff. Alchemy has been around for centuries and has slowly developed into what we have today.”
Shawna sat quietly by his side.
“There have been some very brilliant men throughout the ages, with some very out-there stuff.” Edmundo interjected. “Are you suggesting that, this Custodian, may have been there all along, influencing the science of the time?”
“It would have needed to be in isolation,” Shawna eased in. ‘ The Crusades and the Reformation of the church, would have made, and did make, a very dangerous, intellectual climate for those forward thinking individuals – definitely for some, a life of isolation and hiding.”
“Consider Galileo,” Brian interjected. “He was a brilliant mathematician and astronomer, yet found to be in opposition to the Pope and luckily not put to death, but instead spent the rest of his days in isolation under house arrest. I’m beginning to see a paradox forming in the attitudes of the science community at that time. If what you say is true, the need to adhere to known, and accepted, evidential theories of the church and governing bodies, would be paramount. Yet, still have the requisite to reach out to new concepts and possibilities impelled by commodities and products from new and uncharted lands. The Custodian, even though aloof, would be catalyst to this change through his research and experiments. He could not do this alone and would have had assistance, and that would be in secret.”
“Yes! The Custodian,” Magnus continued, “would need secrecy, and anonymity to continue hiding his intent and existence in the time of inquisition.”
Henry walked over to where Mag sat and refilled his glass, then returned to the kitchen.
“So you believe, this creature was in Central America a thousand years ago, maybe more, and then was present in Europe during the great transition, and then back to Central America?”
“Well, yes! The key is isolation; especially for the Custodian.” Magnus thought again and grabbed his knees to give them a rub. “He has travelled around the world for centuries, stirring things up to a state of near anarchy with unresolved murders and mutilations, then quietly hopped on a boat and disappeared to a new country to proceed with his sordid ways. It has only been recently, that events like these once isolated and unnoticed by the rest of the world, have become more visible with the advent of modern communication and the web. He could have been, to quote the old axiom, ‘foiled-by-his-own-petard’, by instigating the basis for these new technologies. “But,” he stated with a firmness in his voice, “I believe the biggest conundrum that vexes him still is, he can’t figure out how we tick.”
Magnus got up to remove himself from languidity of the couch to the window and its fresh breeze that blew in from the paddock.
“This is why the Custodian wishes to experiment with us,” Magnus stated as he turned to face them all. “He is unable to realize his potential as a spiritual being, because he cannot. In the ‘Popul Vah’, it talks of the four sons of the creator, and how they have lived on earth, and those sons’ birthed nations. Whether the text speaks metaphorically, or these be angels of the bible, Arch-angels, or just stories, we may never know, but this one, I believe to be the Custodian, was different. The story tells us, he chose not to procreate. Why, because, he could not? Instead, I believe, he chose to experiment with us genetically, to find a way to morph, as we do, and evolve, as we will, and as the ancient scriptures tell us happened two thousand years ago, to one individual.”
Magnus cheeks became moist as he tried to explain, “He needed the purest genetic material he could find, and he killed my wife for it. He searches far and wide using blood banks, like the one in Belize and others in Central America, to get DNA samples for scrutiny. He found yours Shawna, and others.” He took a deep breath keeping his emotions at bay, “His bride to be, a thousand years ago, at the temple at Xunantunich, I believe, is a direct ancestor of yours, as well as my wife’s. The ‘Pillars of the Moon’, a wedding gift, he has finally acquired once again. I am happy I was able to help save you.”
Shawna, who had until now remained seated, eased herself from where she sat and came to stand beside Magnus. With arms around him, she kissed him on the cheek and said, “Thank you.” They wept tears of anguish at his loss, and relief at her liberation.
All was quiet until Amalia got up from her place on the opposite couch. “Come look at this,” she notioned to the others as she peered out of the large bay-window that overlooked the valley.
Edmundo and Brian eased themselves from their sitting spots and responded to he
r desire for them look. The distant hills were alive with little specks of light that danced and twinkled, and then disappeared only to reappear at another reserved spot. Fireflies danced their whimsical way to proclamation, then procreation, and finally, annihilation, all on this warm, late, spring evening.
“Come,” Amalia motioned to Edmundo, and taking his hand. “Let’s walk down to the meadow and feel the grass beneath our feet.”
Feeling stuffy and full, Brian motioned to Steve to get up and take a look, “Let’s go for a smoke.”
“You don’t smoke,” Steve asserted.
Brian bent over to lend him a hand up off the low couch. “I know, but you do.” Then looking over to Shawna, still talking with Magnus, “Come on Mag, time for a smoke and a walk.”
Henry, watching from behind the kitchen counter, as two, and then four, retreated out of his front door, thought it had been a good day. He shuffled over, in his Mohawk-Indian slippers, to his wife and gave her a gentle hug in appreciation, “The dinner was delicious.”
FIFTEEN The Aero Mé xico plane stood idle on the tarmac in the baking sun. A light breeze blew through the open door just off to the right past the curtains of the galley and cockpit vestibule. The young, boarding stewardesses stood patiently by and chatted while the Brian watched out the window, waiting for Shawna. Steve, across the aisle and stretched out in a first-class lounge seat, leafed through a day old US Today paper.
A young boy, with a face somewhat familiar, passed by being dragged by his mother and swatted at Steve’s paper in mischief. Steve, without motion apart from a quick swing of his lose slipper which hit the boy’s butt, continue reading unfazed.
The immigration, clearance paper-work for the clay figurine Shawna had found in the dig at Caracol, was taking a little longer than expected. He could see Henry through the glass windows of the office, signing papers and chatting profusely with an officer. The Archaeological Department, which was more or less Henry, had allowed the release and courier-ship, of the little pregnant lady, to Shawna, to be delivered to the University of Washington State. It was to be put on display in the Natural Sciences Department. Very much a favor for Shawna and the head of the department there, much notoriety and fanfare would be forth-coming for the find. The up-and-coming archaeological student writing her thesis, who found it, would be the toast of Seattle.
It had been a week since dinner at Henry’s, and much had transpired in relation to the inquiry into the Xunantunich escapade. ‘Pillars of the Moon’ had been brought out of the archives and put on display with a number of other jade artifacts in the Museum of Belize. There had already been inquiries, according to Maria, requesting its presence on a world tour with a number of other Mayan and Olmec artifacts to circle the globe for several years. Due to its recent arrival, all requests, to date, had been turned down.
The archive catacombs had been under lock-down for a number of days, while investigations continued in the gruesome discovery of an American business man’s remains in a secluded area close to Belmopan. He was last seen leaving his premises for a meeting with officials of the archives and not seen alive again. Amalia had gone into seclusion in the
awarded her temporarily by the Attorney mansion,
General, under recommendation of several ministry officials and witnesses of her nuptial arrangement with Doug Baldwin. She was being consoled daily by a young, fledgling, archaeological student, who doubled as a Department of Tourism Agent.
Magnus had chosen to stay aloof, and steer clear of the proceedings surrounding the Xunantunich affair, deferring all inquiries to Henry and his office. After Henry’s dinner, he drove late to Belize City, and called upon his daughter, who was happy to see him. She doted on him for several hours with tea and cakes while they talked, sat and walked through the secluded gardens of her condominium compound. As the sliver of a moon tried to lift itself into the night sky, he left and retreated to his private quarters and continued with his clay figurines and artwork. The two had talked briefly, weeks before, about the blood samples that had been securitarily compromised, and the names of the donors having been released. The integrity of the blood, screening department of the Health Services Department was shaken, but little was done, and little could be done to rectify the breach. The investigation alluded to the impropriety of two, fledgling labtechnicians, with evidence pointing to funds being released by a local pharmacy to them, but nothing could connect the infraction to the Custodian. A large, pharmaceutical conglomerate in Europe, footed the lawyer’s bill.
Doctor Magnus would continue with his endeavors to expose the custodian for who he was and the illegal practices he conducted in genetics and stem-cell research; it would take more time, but he was not alone.
Henry waited and waved to Shawna as she entered the doorway at the top of the mobile staircase. She turned gave him a smile, waved and retreated into the shadows of the interior of the plane. The small, almost square, brown, imitation- leather suitcase remained by her side as she passed the stewardesses. The exterior door was quickly secured shut. She proceeded to her seat beside Brian, across from Steve.
“Glad you could join us,” Brian teased, as he gently squeezed her hand. “The acquisition had to be faxed through from Washington State with a different signature. I managed to talk to my friend Julie, and she was able to get the documents signed and faxed,” Shawna sighed, with a puff of air that blew several strands of loose bangs from her forehead. “Man, what a hassle.”
As she settled down and fastened her seatbelt, she couldn’t help but wonder about the feeling of great relief that overwhelmed her. With tears welling her eyes, Shawna glanced at the man beside her, thankful that he had loved her enough to pursue her down to Belize. Without his involvement and inquiries to Dr. Magnus, and Maria at the museum, things would be very different; in fact she owed her life to him. Could she ever repay him? With the roar of the jet engines drowning her thoughts, she figured she could try.
The seat belt sign blinked off allowing Brian to switch seats and talk to Steve across the aisle. The dense jungles of Belize, and then Mexico, grew less defined as the plane ascended to greater altitudes. The lush greenery reminded her of her home near Neah Bay, and the emerald carpet of trees that would melt into the aquamarine hues of the coastal seas. Shawna became homesick for the ruggedness of the coast, and the gentle hugs from her aunt and grandma. Her mind wandered to the little wood cabin and the smells of cooking that would greet her as she rushed through the gnarled, wood door that protected the presence within. Fond memories of her childhood flooded her thoughts as she recalled the years she had spent in the custody of her grandparents. She squeezed Brian’s knee as she relived in her mind, the passionate, first night the two of them had spent together by the hearth of the cabin’s huge, stone fireplace; the smell of the wood burningthe blanket of fur caressing her sensitive skin-the smell of his sweet perspiration as their bodies entwined. Trying to get her thoughts under control, she blushed, crossed her legs and grabbed a magazine from the seat pocket in front.
The tourist magazine Shawna opened was encouraging travelers to come and visit
Belizean jungles and the Mayan heritage the lush that lay
within. Her mind drifted back to the ubiquitous foliage and her incarceration. She thought of the Mayan woman who had so selflessly given her life so Shawn’s might be spared. Her emotions began to well; she began to tear and tried to control the lump that was growing in her throat: she leafed through the pages without regard.
“Rose is going to meet us in Seattle, with a car to take us back to B.C.,” Steve stated, looking up from his paper.
Steve had been pensive, and excited to get back home with the kids. Several quotes for building projects, needed to be completed, so his presence north was necessary. The last week had been arduous with all the meetings, seeming interrogations and medical appointments. His ankle had shrunk from its swollen state of a week earlier, and could now walk without the aid of a cane. His knuckles had now reverted back t
o their normal size and color, and did not hinder him at all. All expenses had been taken care of by Henry, through the ministry, and even a little extra on the side to compensate him for his suffering. Magnus had also given him several relief rubbings of stone stelae, which he hid in his luggage, to take home and consider the possibilities of retail in the north.
“That’ll be great,” Brian said, “but I will be spending a few days in Seattle with Shawna while she gets things settled with the university. Plus, I haven’t touched my camera in weeks,” looking down to the leather back-pack tucked beneath the forward seat. “I’ve got to go through a lot of pics and videos.” He rubbed the arms of his seat and thought for several moments, “There’s also Victoria I have to deal with, my cars being repaired.”
Brian had left Victoria Harbor, with his relationship with Marese very much up in the air. The month he had spent in research at Vincent’s study, the University of Victoria, and travelling back and forth to Vancouver, had not left much time for socializing, not to mention the uncertainty of furthering their relationship. He had felt drawn, determined with the near obsession of finding Shawna and the where-abouts of the little, jade bowl. Guilt had sprung up from timeto-time, but not strong enough to pull him away from his resolve. His heart was drawn to another. He would have to make an effort with Marese to alleviate any animosity and ill-feeling that may have resulted from his seeming selfish actions, but not for his sake, but for hers.