by Adam Hiatt
“It’ a good thing you said something, I might’ve lost respect for the next name on the list,” Reddic deadpanned.
“I thought as much,” Jaxon said, missing the sarcasm. “Greene’s an accomplished author of over thirty books and fifty articles concentrating on the Christian era to the present. Next is Robert Foster. He teaches at Duke University and is most renowned for his publications on symbols in stone as well as both pagan and Christian iconography. Raymond Hall is the most unrecognizable of all the scholars. He is a professor at a small liberal arts school right here in Salt Lake City called Westminster College. Notwithstanding the obvious void of an elite university backing his name, his work is exceptional. He has managed several important archeological digs of great academic significance. He is an expert in ancient languages and has a propensity for translating documents, like the Sumerian version of the Deluge story found near Nippur. That’s about as much of their biographies that I can remember off the top of my head.”
“It sounds like they’re all extremely qualified. Here,” Reddic said, extending his arm. “Take my phone and call them up. Let’s ask them a few questions.”
“Did you know your battery is almost dead?” Jaxon turned the screen outward so Reddic could see. Reddic reached down to the side of the couch and brought his backpack to his lap. He searched inside until he found the phone charger. Plugging it into an outlet on the floor lying underneath a glass end table, he inserted the other end into the phone.
“There, you’re all set. Start from the top,” he said.
One by one Jaxon called the numbers scribbled down next to each name. The news he received was inauspicious and untimely. Dr. Greene was doing research in Egypt and not taking any calls or messages. Dr. Foster just started his sabbatical, also in Egypt and was not expected to return stateside for months.
All the excuses were legitimate yet purposefully ambiguous. They must have really not wanted to be disturbed, otherwise why the obvious vagueness? Still, the fact that nobody had communicated with any one of them was incredible. Something wasn’t right.
But there was one name left to call. Jaxon considered the implications if it too was unavailable? They couldn’t return to Ithaca anytime soon. They were almost killed twice in one night.
“Jax,” Reddic said calmly. “There’s one more call to make.” Methodically, Jaxon typed the number and moved his thumb over the send key. He brought it up to his ear and listened to the call tone.
“Hello,” a deep voice said.
“Hello? Hi is this Dr. Hall?” Jaxon asked, sitting upright.
“Yes it is. To whom am I speaking?”
“My name is Jaxon Smith. I am a doctorate candidate at Cornell University under the tutelage of Dr. Matthew Langford.”
“Oh?” Hall said, cutting in. “You have a good mentor. How is old Matt these days?”
“I’m afraid he’s not in the best condition. That is part of the reason why I’m calling you. Is there any way you could spare a few minutes to meet with me today? I know it is a terribly inconvenient request considering it is a Sunday morning, but I just happen to be in town and it is important that we speak.”
“Any student of Matthew Langford is welcome to meet with me anytime,” Hall stated cordially. “He inspired me to get into this field, you know. I’ll have to tell you about it sometime. It’s about eight o’clock right now. I can probably slip out and be at my office by nine. Why don’t you swing by campus and we can talk.”
“Thank you, sir. That means a lot to me. I will see you in an hour.”
***
In a small house in a suburban residential area across town, Hall replaced the cordless phone on its cradle and walked to the bedroom to change. On the nightstand next to his bed he noticed a red blinking light coming from the cellular phone sitting next to his car keys. He had a voicemail. After typing in his password, a voice familiar to him came through the tiny speaker. He listened to the words carefully before erasing the message.
Holding the phone in his hand, Hall contemplated the information he had just received. It was disconcerting and almost unbelievable. Could it be true? He stuffed the phone in his pocket and put on some shoes. He decided to walk to the office. He needed some time to think before the meeting. After all, he didn’t get to this point of his career by believing everything he heard.
Chapter Twenty-One
The white Mercedes Benz smoothly scooted down the city streets. The rays of the morning sun penetrating its front glass, prompting its passengers to pull down the visors to shade their eyes. The car was the property of the Hilton Hotel, but the manager, Ed Turner, saw no harm in allowing Reddic to borrow it for the day, as long as he returned it in one piece.
They drove up 400 South, climbing the sloping east bench of the Salt Lake Valley, and reached a traffic light where the street leveled off. Through the intersection they could see the towering grandstands of Rice-Eccles Stadium, the University of Utah’s football field, also the site of the opening and closing ceremonies of the 2002 Winter Olympics. Directly behind it loomed the silver dome of the Huntsman Center.
The car turned right onto 1300 East and traveled southward. Brown brick craftsman bungalows and Tudor houses lined both sides of the street. Some were difficult to see, virtually hidden amongst the various shadows cast by the massive trees hovering overhead. After twelve blocks they took another right turn at the 1700 South intersection. In less than sixty yards they made a left and entered a narrow parking lot, swinging into a space behind a yellow brick building.
Reddic got out of the vehicle and closed the door behind him, locking it with the fob in his hand. He looked up at the edifice facing him and compared it with those that neighbored it. Not only was the architecture dissimilar, the color conspicuously stood out. Every other building adorned a shade of brown. It was also the only structure with gabled windows protruding from the roof.
“This is where Dr. Hall’s office is. I hope that he’s here, it’s almost nine o’clock,” said Jaxon, breaking the silence. They moved up the steps leading to the backside entrance of the building. “I heard that Westminster is the smallest college campus in the world, as far as total area goes,” he commented wistfully.
“No argument there,” said Reddic. It looked like it would take only a few minutes to walk through the entire campus. It barely covered three blocks in total length and less than two in width.
What the campus lacked in size, however, it made up for in visual appeal. Many of the educational facilities appeared to be newly constructed, despite their neo-gothic motifs. Lush vegetation dominated the grounds between the manmade edifices, giving the college a welcoming feeling of life and vitality.
Ascending the old creaky steps to the fourth floor, a wide corridor awaited. To the left of the stairwell were three doors, equally spaced on each side of the hall. From the far corner a beam of light struggled to spill into the vacant passage. They began to approach it, seeing that the office door was ajar. Poking his head in, Reddic saw the profile of a man reclining in a chair with his feet resting on top of his desk. He had a full, graying beard and neatly trimmed salt and pepper-speckled hair. The man wore old tan slacks with scuffed white sneakers and a faded red polo.
Jaxon cleared his throat. “Dr. Hall?” The man used his feet to push off the desk and spin in the chair to face the door.
“The same,” he responded cheerfully. “You must be Jaxon. Come in and take a seat.”
The office was the first of its kind that Reddic had seen. The gabled ceiling slanted downward at a sharp angle, cutting the office size in half until it opened up in an inset that was enclosed by a pane of glass. The professor’s desk was nudged in near the window with filing cabinets flanking it. Books and magazines scattered about on the floor.
“Dr. Hall, this is my brother, Reddic.” Reddic stood and took the man’s hand in a firm grip.
“So what do I owe the honor, gentlemen?” Hall asked, crossing his legs and interlocking his fingers. “You
boys are a long way from home.”
“I’m actually here on Dr. Langford’s behalf,” Jaxon lied. Reddic peeked at his brother out of the corner of his eye.
“Oh? I thought you said he was in a substandard condition.”
“He is, hence the unannounced visit.”
“I see,” replied Hall skeptically. “Was there an accident?”
“I wouldn’t classify it as that. It is more exhaustion than anything. Anybody who knows Dr. Langford understands that he is prone to overwork himself. He checked himself into a clinic for a few days to recover.” Jaxon looked ill. He was consciously lying to this man’s face as Reddic had instructed.
“What’s the name of that clinic? I would like to phone him and give him my regards.” Jaxon looked over to Reddic, pleading for help with his eyes.
“Cayuga Medical Center,” said Reddic. “He just checked in yesterday.”
“Thank you. I will call him soon,” said the savant. “I’ve known Matt for some time now. He is a great man. You’re very lucky to be working with him.”
“Yes, I know,” responded Jaxon sincerely.
“Are you a historian as well?” Hall cut in, addressing Reddic.
“Unfortunately, I am not. I’m just a younger brother who got duped into helping with his homework.”
“Outstanding!” Hall beamed. “You’re levity is much appreciated.” The sudden change in mood wasn’t lost on Reddic.
“That’s why I brought him along,” Jaxon added playfully.
“So, what exactly does our mutual friend have you researching?” Hall inquired solemnly. Reddic unobtrusively made eye contact with Jaxon before any response was given. The message was clear: do not trust this man.
“The fundamental idea of my dissertation is to find common traits or characteristics that existed amongst the major religious cultures in the eastern and western hemispheres in order to more accurately prove that the two have always been related, i.e., that they originated from the same crock pot.” Jaxon inhaled deeply before continuing. “In my research I came across nebulous references to a mysterious empowering stone. I asked Dr. Langford about it and he directed me to a few books, but since he’s now unavailable, I have nowhere else to go. That’s why we’re here, Dr. Hall. I need your help.”
Raymond Hall nodded pensively. He uncrossed his legs and leaned forward, cupping the bottom of his chin with the palm of his right hand. His eyes seemed to bore into Jaxon’s skull, reading his soul, but he didn’t say a word.
In one smooth motion he jumped out of his seat and rushed passed Reddic and Jaxon, pushing the door closed. When he turned around his countenance appeared to have changed. The cautious, fearful expression was gone. His eyes were wide and looked to be glowing in the semi-dark office. He placed his hands on the back of his chair and delicately swiveled it back and forth.
“Of all the incredible things that you may have studied throughout your life,” said Hall in a low yet compelling voice. “There is surely nothing more fantastic than what I am about to tell you.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
The professor strolled over to the filing cabinet on the left side of the desk and pulled open the middle drawer. He reached into one of the green dividers and removed a tan folder full of loose sheets of paper. Returning to his seat, he faced his audience again. From his pocket he removed a set of wire-rimmed glasses and put them on.
He opened the folder and shuffled through the pages lying on his lap. “What do you know about the Urim and Thummim?” he asked without looking up.
“I know that out of all the twelve gems on the ephod of the High Priest of Israel it was the chief jewel,” Jaxon said hesitantly. “The Hebrews considered it to be an actual symbol of God’s presence. I personally believe that one of its historical uses was to translate ancient records. Other than that, I’m afraid my knowledge is limited.” Jaxon grimaced. It was subtle, but Reddic noticed. The lies were flowing out of his mouth easily now. But there was no getting around it. If they were to convince Hall to divulge information Jaxon had to prime him with calculated ignorance. Reticence was the key, Reddic had told him. Besides, how could Jaxon even begin to intimate that he could work with the esteemed Dr. Langford on a project of this magnitude and not have at least a rudimentary understanding of the principal element of research?
“Sadly, what you have just stated is more than the majority of all educated persons know,” Hall said, looking over the top of his reading glasses. “There simply has not been enough information made available to vigorously pursue it academically. Having said that, I’ve committed several years of my career researching and writing about the symbolic nature of sacred stones, as you may or may not have already known. Of particular interest are the legendary Urim and Thummim.”
The scholar lowered his head and thumbed through the pages in the folder. “The first thing you should know is that the words were not etymologically connected to Hebrew, as most people surmise,” Hall explained. “They go back further, to a language that was terribly arcane, possibly from the Hurrians of the north. The root of the word Urim (Or-m), maintains a special connection to light, but it also insinuates an existence of some sort of shining stone. As you said, it maintained a position of prominence amongst the Israelites. It was believed to be a representation of God’s presence, as many of its possessors somehow received instruction and enlightenment through them. For instance, you may be familiar with the biblical character Samuel. It’s been recorded that he had two small smooth stones that he held in his hands when addressing the heavens. If the answer to a question was yes, one of the stones would illuminate, if no, the other would shine.”
“When did this legend first come about?” asked Reddic.
“Biblical scholars postulated that most prophets in the Old Testament had access to its divine preponderance. However, others will also tell you that it was first introduced by Moses, but that would be a wild deception. This type of stone was known to man long before then.”
Hall energetically slammed the folder closed and spun around in his chair to face his desk. He reached for a brown leather-covered book resting under the telephone. He swiveled back around and handed it to Reddic, opening it to a page near the front. “Read the sixteenth verse of this chapter.”
“Okay,” Reddic responded slowly, reaching for the book. Jaxon ran his eyes over the writ on the page and quickly noticed that it was a Bible. Reddic started to read. “It says, ‘A window shalt thou make to the ark—”
“Stop right there!” Hall exulted. Reddic flinched with the unexpected voice fluctuation. “I apologize for the dramatics,” he said sheepishly. “I just get excited when I talk about this.”
“There is no need to apologize. We completely understand. Please continue,” Jaxon urged.
“Very well…this question is for you, Reddic. How do you interpret what you just read?”
“Well, from what I can tell, Noah, it’s Noah right?” Hall nodded. “Okay, Noah is being ordered or commanded to construct a window in the Ark. For what purpose I don’t know.”
“Quite perceptive you are. That singular sentence is one of the most puzzling and perplexing of all the lines in this book and has been subject to endless debate and ridicule for generations. In fact, the Jewish rabbis are still incapable of offering a consistent explanation.”
“Why’s that?” Reddic inquired.
“No sources,” the bearded professor said. “It all boils down to speculation and conjecture.”
Reddic brought his hand to his cheek, tilting his head toward Jaxon. “Are you following this?” he asked.
“I think Dr. Hall is referring to the original language that was used to write the passage.”
“I am indeed. The Hebrew version for window in the verse was zohar, signifying shiner or illuminator. Yet, lest we forget the secondary text found in the library of Assurbanipal at Nineveh, we must acknowledge the Babylonian word for window, which is nappashi, meaning breather or ventilator.”
�
��But windows do serve a double function, right? A source of light and ventilation,” Jaxon interposed.
“You’re exactly right. They are typically used to satisfy both purposes. However, the rabbis couldn’t accept the zohar as being a simple window. It had to be more than that, they assumed. According to the Midrash Rabbah, a few rabbis did agree that it involved some type of light in the Ark, but that’s where their conformity concluded. Some believed it to be a skylight, while others thought it was a miraculous light-giving stone.”
“I don’t want you to think that I’m trying to disprove what you’re saying,” Reddic said calmly. “But what is your source for that?”
“Aw yes. Most of it goes back to one single source known as the Palestinian Talmud.” Jaxon’s head shot up as at the sound of the words. Hall seemed to have noticed. “Have you heard of it before?”
“Yes I have. Langford has spoken of it. I believe he said that there were only four printed editions in circulation. The first came about around 1523 and the second in the early 1600s. I want to say 1609. The other two didn’t make it to press until after 1860. He told me that it’s one of the rarest and most difficult books to read because it was written in the West Aramaic dialect, not the more common East Aramaic.”
“He wasn’t misleading you. Many of the brightest academics have cowered at its presence. Out of a stroke of pure luck my mentor demanded that I become familiar with all Aramaic dialects when I went through school. As a reward for my efforts, I was able to peruse the Palestinian Talmud. While doing so, I came across a brief passage that recounted Noah having a pair of polished gems that became dim by day and brilliant by night during the twelve months he sailed in the Ark. As you know, in ancient Jewish culture it was imperative to determine the exact moment in which day ended and night began, and vice versa of course.”
“I don’t know,” Reddic insisted. “Polished gems and shining stones? It sounds a little like medieval folklore.”