“It’s too frightening to think about,” Scott said.
“Yeah, like having your house burn to the ground with you in it,” Curt said. He turned to Sherri. “At least now we understand his comment about the family cat saving his life. By the way, where’s Tina?”
“The babysitter, Ms. Coy, is feeling better today. We dropped her off on the way back from the store.” Sherri paused. She curled her brow. “Curt, do you have any idea how the fire started?”
“No, but given what happened to Scott, and the fact that both my bedroom door and all the windows were sealed shut, I’m sure it was deliberate.” He paused in thought. “I’m a nice guy, as long as you don’t ask my ex-wife’s opinion. Why would someone do such a thing?” Curt sighed dejectedly, looking to the carpet. “Everything I owned was in that house. Thank God I was still wearing my pants with my wallet in them.” He looked up. “Any word from Sydney?”
Sherri shook her head. She wore a pained expression.
Even though he had just lost his house and all his worldly possessions, Curt felt for her.
Scott rose, walked to the window. “Curt, we’ve gotten ourselves wrapped up in something way over our heads. Someone tried to kill us both. My gut tells me it’s related to the Fish. And don’t forget about poor Father En, who was beaten for information after we left Bolivia.”
Sherri looked perplexed. “Fish? Bolivia? What are you talking about?”
Curt looked to Scott. “I’m going to bring her into the circle. She did save my life.”
Scott shrugged in agreement. “Sure.”
Thirty-seven minutes later, Sherri sat back on the bed and looked at Curt, then at Scott, as if both men were insane. “This is a joke, right?”
“You know, Marvin said about those same words when he first saw the skeleton of that creature wiggle,” Scott said.
“Okay,” she held her hands up as an attempt to slow the train of bizarre information bombarding her. “Let me do a Reader’s Digest recap: A man is caught and sealed in the Castillo gunpowder magazine in the 1600s because the Spanish couldn’t kill him.”
“The ‘couldn’t kill him’ part is our speculation, but yes, that’s correct,” Scott said.
“Then, in early July of this year when the gunpowder magazine is discovered and reopened, a man comes out alive.”
“Albeit insane, blind, with no tongue, and with only remnants of a heart and lungs,” Curt added as he took a seat on the bed beside her.
“Got it,” Sherri said with a mocking wink, “and now a Bolivian monk, who lives in the residence once occupied by Guillaume LeFlore, a French Huguenot explorer from a 1500s settlement in Jacksonville, claims the man from the Castillo was Pinot, Guillaume’s brother; a man who would be somewhere in the neighborhood of 500 years old. The monk is sure because of Pinot’s triton-shaped birthmark that Guillaume had described in his journal.
“Then, after you leave Bolivia, you get a call that the monk’s been beaten up for information, but you don’t know what information.”
“Beaten by Americans,” Curt added.
“Americans who may or may not have been in People Magazine,” Scott said.
Sherri looked confused.
“Ignore him,” Curt began, “he gets silly when someone tries to kill him.”
“You seem to be pretty blasé about this whole thing. Is this a typical week for you two?”
“No,” Scott and Curt said in perfect unison.
“Okay, so after all this, you two find the skeleton of a quirky-looking fish inside the gunpowder magazine where Pinot LeFlore had been sealed for centuries…a Fish you believe he hid there. And this Fish, which is currently staying nice and dry in Professor Marvin Sellon’s oven, comes to life when it comes in contact with water.”
“And destroys bathrooms,” Scott said.
“Have I summed up everything correctly?”
“Yeah, pretty much.” Curt responded.
“Okay, this is formally beyond fiction.” Sherri began rocking on the bed. She laughed uncomfortably. “Is there a category beyond fiction? Science fiction? Fantasy? No, what you just described is beyond that. What’s after fantasy?”
“A cigarette and a restraining order,” Curt said.
She ignored the humor. “Wait, how could the attempts on your lives be related to the Fish if no one besides Marvin Sellon knows you have it? Isn’t it possible your lives were threatened because of your involvement with me? Remember the warning I got from Sydney before he disappeared that I was in danger? God, now I really feel bad.”
“You’re not to blame, Sherri,” Curt said. He took her hand and gave it a consoling squeeze.
“I agree, Sherri,” Scott said.
Curt drew in a breath, and released a long exhale. “I need to let both of you know what happened at the Castillo yesterday afternoon. It’s obvious to me it is somehow linked to our discovery of the Fish. Just don’t tell a soul, or Dr. Peklis will have my ass.”
Curt explained about the opening of the second sealed room that had been found yesterday morning in the opposite corner of the Castillo. He told them about the scratches in the coquina walls that were similar, although fewer in number and not as deep, as those in the gunpowder magazine. The size and shape of the enclosure indicated it might have been a prison. For all they knew, it may have been the first place Pinot was retained by the Spanish before being moved into the gunpowder magazine.
“Oh, one other thing: inside the room, we found a plastic tube which was bulbous at one end and had a nipple at the other end. In the nipple end, there was a small hole. It was obviously left there by the perpetrator. Unfortunately, neither Dr. Peklis nor I have any idea what it is.”
Scott spoke. “In case you haven’t seen the news this morning, Curt, if things weren’t weird enough, Hurricane Fernando is still drawing a bead on St. Augustine and expected to strike with full force in the morning. It’s increased from a Category 4 storm to a Category 5. The latest forecast shows it has the potential to be the strongest hurricane ever to make landfall. A voluntary evacuation of Northeast Florida began this morning. By 7 p.m., it will be mandatory.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Wednesday, August 17, 10:47 a.m. – St. Augustine, Florida
Scott, Curt, and Sherri came bounding down the hotel stairs.
“He’s still not answering,” Scott said as he closed his cell phone.
“He’s probably out to breakfast,” Curt replied. “I wish the man would invest in a cell phone.”
Scott secretly agreed. Marvin’s resistance to a cell phone was almost comical. Scott did not share Curt’s optimism that Marvin had left the house though. He had tried calling the retired anthropology professor earlier when he and Sherri were shopping for Curt. Now he had a bad feeling. If what happened to Curt and him was related to the discovery of the Fish, he had been negligent not to consider that Marvin might also be in danger, especially given that the creature was sitting in his oven.
Curt drove them to Marvin’s house across the bay on Anastasia Island. It was just after eleven o’clock when they arrived. Marvin’s car was parked in the driveway. This did not make Scott feel any better. It was possible Marvin had just arrived home, but his gut told him otherwise. If something had happened to his friend, he would never forgive himself.
They parked on the street. As they approached the house, they could see something was wrong.
“Look,” Scott said, pointing to the front door, which stood slightly ajar.
The two men and Sherri moved timidly to the entrance where cold air was leaking outside through the opening. They slowly pushed the door inward. The frame was splintered where the bolt had been ripped out. A sinking feeling overcame Scott. He led the way as they entered the living room.
“Marvin, are you here?!” he called. Everything appeared normal. The saturating, white coat of dust from
Monday’s episode with the Fish was gone. The house was tidy.
Curt moved into the kitchen and returned. He shook his head back and forth.
Scott’s concern for the professor waxed palpably in the eerie stillness.
“Marvin!” Scott yelled down the hallway toward the back bedrooms. They entered each room and turned the lights on.
“Something’s happened to him,” Scott said despondently as they returned to the living room.
Curt looked at his friend with an empty stare.
Sherri stopped by a bureau and pointed to a framed photograph. “Is this Marvin and his wife?”
Scott nodded. “Yes, Julia passed away about 10 years ago. If she hadn’t died, Marvin would still be in Tallahassee and not mixed up with us, or some godforsaken fish.”
As if on cue, both men spoke.
“The Fish.”
In unison, Scott and Curt rushed to the kitchen, followed by Sherri. The oven light was on.
The two men knelt and stared at the plate inside. It was empty.
“We should call the police,” Sherri said.
Curt withdrew his cell phone from his pocket. As he did, it chirped. The caller ID displayed the name.
****
“Lila?”
“Curt? Can you hear me?”
“Yeah, I’m here, Lila. Go ahead.” There was a moment of static. “Are you there?”
“Yes. Yes, I can hear you now. I’m standing outside on the small plateau. The wind is rather strong, but never mind that. Curt, we discovered something truly remarkable on Monday: Aramaic writing high on the wall. This time, it’s an entire story. The whole Noah’s Ark account; far beyond what’s in the Bible.”
“And you waited two days to call me?” Curt said.
“Oh, stop complaining. I waited with good reason. When we found the writing on Monday, part of it was covered with fungus. We had to take great care to clean it properly without erasing the text. There’s still a small section to go, but I wanted to share the news. What the text says so far truly makes it a fantastic discovery. The detail, the way Ham articulates his version, supports the Bible story, but the most brilliant piece is a story regarding a fish that...”
Lila continued her sentence but it was garbled. Curt’s mind had seized at the word fish. “Whoa, Lila! Hold on. Can you say that again?” He pulled the cell phone away from his ear and hit the speaker button. He laid it down on Marvin’s kitchen table where he took a seat, placing a finger to his lips to signal Scott and Sherri for silence. The other two quietly drew up chairs to listen.
“I said, there’s an amazing story about a fish. The creature was described as unique. It was created by God and originally given to mankind in the Garden of Eden. Then, at the time of the Great Flood, it was adopted by Noah to use per God’s instructions.”
“Use? In what way?”
“The story says God told Noah to use the fish to keep the human and animal passengers alive during the forty days and nights at sea. It was unclear what is meant by use, but the text said those using the fish would no longer need food. Also, the fish was said to extend life expectancy significantly, and, for the first portion of that time, the recipient was invincible. It’s amazing when you consider some of the Biblical characters and how they lived incredibly long lifetimes. Noah himself lived until the age of 950 according to the Bible. Maybe this fish is how they did it?”
The threesome listening in looked at each other with astonishment.
“Remarkably, this massive room is a shrine, a memorial, to the fish. God instructed Noah to have one of his three sons, Ham, carve out this room, create the images of the Ark’s passengers on the walls, and place the fish here, since its use had concluded. As we’ve discussed, the presence of Ham off the coast of Africa fits perfectly with the Bible, which states he was sent to repopulate the African continent while the other two sons, Shem and Japheth, were sent to Asia and Europe, respectively, to do the same.”
“So the fish...it’s there?” Curt asked.
“Not anymore,” Lila responded. The phone crackled again, and the wind whistled in the background. “Can you still hear me, Curt? The wind is picking up again.”
“Yes, go on.”
“At the base of the concentric stairs, I noticed in the pan-shaped cavity there’s a crack in the stone floor. This area, by the way, is the focal point of the shrine. If the fish was here, that’s where it would have been kept in water, but with the crack in the base, the water drained out through the crevice leaving the fish high and dry. Unfortunately, this must have happened so long ago that any skeletal remains of the fish have long since turned to dust. It’s a pity, if such a creature truly did exist. Can you imagine if we had found the remains?”
“Lila, since the walls are filled with creatures that traveled upon the Ark, is there a picture of this Fish and its mate?”
“As a matter of fact, there is. I’ve taken hundreds of snapshots, and I’m looking at it now, but it has no mate. It’s the only image on the walls with a single subject. It truly is a ghastly looking creature; not something I’d perceive credited to God. It appears more demonic with its angry teeth, bowed backbone, and split tail that looks like it would give it fits when it tried to swim. That Mother Nature can be prickly sometimes.”
Lila continued. “If you’d like, I can send the pic to your email.”
“Please do, Lila.”
“Curt, one more thing. We weren’t the first ones to discover this cave. There was writing in Spanish on the stone staircase near the recess in the center. Seems the original founder chose to keep it a secret and reseal the walls. There are tool marks where the walls had been repaired. The single line of Spanish text reads, ‘Visitado por un caballero pobre en su viaje. El símbolo me dirigirá y existirá donde estoy limitado,’ which translates to, ‘Visited by a poor knight on his journey. The symbol will guide me and exist where I am bound.’ Does that mean anything to you?”
“Not a thing,” Curt said. He cut Scott, then Sherri, a glance.
“Well, I better get back at it. My assistants are at work, and I don’t like to leave them alone for long. I’ll be back in the States on Saturday, and we’ll discuss plans for a formal press conference then. Remember, you must keep quiet on this. Don’t tell a soul.”
“Understood.” Curt said. “Talk to you soon, Lila.” He hit the end call button.
“I don’t believe this,” Scott said, rising from his chair and pacing around the kitchen.
“Which part?” Curt asked, as he tinkered with his cell phone.
“All of it.”
“Faith is when you believe in things that challenge our basic understandings of science and probability.”
“We’ve been through this before, Curt. My faith is in tangible reality, not nonsensical stories and organized religions.”
“Wait. I never said I’m for organized religion,” Curt said, looking up from his cell phone screen.
“I’m still amazed someone like yourself, an archaeologist who was schooled to deal in facts, believes in an all-knowing deity you’ve never seen.”
“Scott, you saw firsthand what happened to the skeleton of that Fish when water touched it. You don’t think that defies science and physiology as we know it? What about a 500-year-old man? Everything Lila told us about the text matches our Fish. It also answers the question of why Pinot LeFlore was sealed in the gunpowder room by the Spanish. He was still within the period of invincibility. It must last at least several hundred years. The Spanish were unable to kill him.”
Sherri cut in. “Gentlemen, as fun as it is to hear you two banter about religion, can we get back to the matters at hand?”
Curt looked back down, now eyeing the photograph of the Fish from the cave wall that Lila had emailed. It was identical to the picture Marvin had shown them from the Indian legend book that Scott confirmed mat
ched their Fish. “Here, does this convince you?” He turned the cell phone around so the screen faced Sherri and Scott, who approached the table. Scott’s expression confirmed Curt’s conclusion.
“Is it the same Fish?” Sherri asked.
Scott nodded, speechless.
They had found the one-of-a-kind Fish mentioned on the cave walls; a creature with amazing abilities to extend life that was said to have been aboard Noah’s Ark. The historical and theological significance was too staggering for Curt even to begin to comprehend.
“How in the world did it end up in Northeast Florida?” Sherri said.
“I have a theory,” Curt said standing. “Remember when Lila mentioned the Spanish text found in the cathedral cave translated as ‘Visited by a poor knight on his journey. The symbol will guide me and exist where I am bound.’”?
Scott and Sherri nodded concurrently.
“Well, I lied. I think I know what it’s referring to. Actually, it’s another incredible discovery. My head’s swimming with all the archaeological firsts I’ve come across in the last eight weeks. It’s more than most in the field will experience in a lifetime.”
“Curt, get to the point, please,” Scott urged.
“Okay, I have to start by breaking down the two lines of text so you’ll understand the relevance. Fortunately, I did listen to my ex-wife sometimes and retained some of the Biblical archaeological and theological knowledge from a few of her lectures I attended. Take the second line first: The symbol will guide me and exist where I am bound. I believe ‘the symbol’ is referring to the fish, which was originally pagan. Long before Christianity, the fish symbol was known as ‘the Great Mother,’ a pointed oval sign called the vesica piscis or Vessel of the Fish. Its link to fertility, birth, feminine sexuality, and the natural force of women was acknowledged by the Celts, as well as pagan cultures throughout northern Europe. The ‘Cult of the Fish Mother’ has been traced as far back as the hunting and fishing people of the Danube River Basin in the sixth millennium B.C.”
Death in the Beginning (The God Tools Book 1) Page 17