To Peet’s relief, John appeared to be in perfect health. His stout frame was as robust as ever. His skin seemed a shade darker, his wrinkles a degree finer, his smile as white as the jungle-filtered sun shimmering through tufts of thick, silver hair peeking beneath the brim of his straw, panama hat. He looked as content as Peet had ever seen him, perched there as though nothing could be more ordinary than sitting on an ancient throne in the middle of a wilderness.
“What do you think of her?” John asked, rising to his feet and stepping aside to allow them full view of the stone slab.
Matt dropped the laden pack he’d had thrown over his shoulder and immediately surveyed the structure. “You mean this has been here the whole time?” he asked incredulously.
“In situ,” John said.
Matt shook his head. “All this time it’s been right under our noses. How did you find this?”
John smiled sheepishly. “Nature took its course,” he said with a shrug.
Peet noticed the hacked branches and brush piled against the undergrowth nearby. “Don’t tell me you cleared all of this yourself,” he said.
A glimmer in John’s eye flashed before his smile. “I had a few days to kill.”
Of course he didn’t.
Matt was kneeling at the throne now, examining something inscribed on the stone surface. He shifted his position to get a better angle. “Is this…this isn’t. No wait. It is. This is Seven Macaw.”
John nodded. “That was my assessment.”
“That doesn’t look like a bird to me,” KC criticized, peering over Matt’s shoulder. “Looks like a hailed out chunk of rock.”
Peet stepped in for a closer look himself. He could see KC’s point. The carving atop the throne was quite weathered, but he could still make out some sort of psychedelic picture.
“It’s iconography,” Matt explained. “Very much in the Izapan style.”
He traced one of the two main figures with his figure. Peet could make out a human face and legs, but the rest of it appeared more birdlike. “This is Seven Macaw, the vainglorious polar god,” Matt continued. “You see this figure frequently on the stelae in Izapa’s monument group A.”
“I believe the similarity lies more with the monuments in group F,” John interceded. “If you look closely, you see that Seven Macaw is upside down. In fact, he’s falling from his perch.”
“Oh yes,” Matt agreed. His finger shifted to two small anthropomorphic figures standing just below the toppled deity. “And there’s the Twin Boys, having just defeated Seven Macaw.”
“But that’s not all,” John prompted. “Look who sits within the ball court just behind the Twins.”
“One Hunahpu,” Matt said.
“Exactly.”
KC sighed impatiently. “Okay, none of that makes any sense to me.”
John was quick to respond. “According to Mayan mythology, the Twins were sons of the solar deity, One Hunahpu, who was decapitated during a battle with the Lords of the Underworld. Along the way to resurrecting their father, the Twin Boys had a number of adventures, including the defeat of the polar deity, Seven Macaw, which is illustrated here. But this throne also displays the resurrection, or rebirth, of One Hunahpu.”
“These are both episodes within the Popol Vuh,” Matt said.
KC threw her arms into the air. “Well, that explains everything.”
Peet sensed her frustration through the dripping sarcasm in her tone. Luckily, he knew a little about the Popol Vuh through the curriculum he taught back at the university. “The Popol Vuh is a sacred book of the Maya—”
“The Quiché Maya,” John quickly inserted.
“Right.The Quiché Maya. The pre-Columbian priests created a complex writing system using pictures and hieroglyphs which they recorded in stone, ceramics and even in bark codices. Unfortunately, as the Spanish conquest sought to destroy the indigenous cultures, starting with the leaders and priests, the knowledge of Mayan writing was lost.”
“However, their cultural stories were not,” John interrupted. “These Mayan stories had evolved from the Izapans before them, and even the Olmecs before them. During the sixteenth century, Maya all across Mexico were being instructed by the Spanish friars on everything from Christianity to the Latin alphabet. Armed with this new form of writing, the Maya began preserving their own history and traditions in books. The sacred book for the Quiché Maya is the Popol Vuh.”
“These books were virtually unknown to the rest of the world until the eighteenth and nineteenth century,” Peet added. “Once they were discovered, they were quickly translated and inserted into the archaeological record.”
“Thank heavens for that,” Matt said, straightening from his hover over the throne. “Without the translation of the Mayan creation stories, we may have never understood Izapan iconography. The stories that we read from these sixteenth century texts have helped us identify characters that have been on display on Izapa’s stelae for some two thousand years.”
KC appeared unimpressed. “Stories? Who cares about two thousand year old stories?”
“Oh, many people,” John said. “Take the Bible for example. It’s the world’s number one bestseller.”
“The Bible is the inspired word of God,” Father Ruiz interjected. He’d been leaning against a pillar of stone so quietly and for so long that Peet had nearly forgotten he was even there.
“Then there’s Stela 5,” Matt said. “It’s perhaps the most well known stela discovered in Izapa. It clearly shows one of the lost tribes of Israel arriving in the Americas.”
“That’s the Mormon interpretation,” John countered. “Stela 5 also conforms to the creation story in the Popol Vuh. In fact, the central theme to Izapa’s monuments and stelas appears to be creation mythology with a particular emphasis on the Courageous Twin story.”
“Perhaps the Twin story was created in Izapa,” Peet offered.
“That’s quite possible considering, in all likelihood, the Long Count Calendar was developed here too. We are currently approaching the thirteenth Baktun in the Long Count Calendar. The earliest stelae found in Izapa date back to the seventh Baktun.”
John stepped up to the throne to look down upon its carvings. “However, when I first discovered the writing on this throne, I thought it might be a stela from the eighth Baktun instead. In fact, I still can’t help but wonder if this isn’t a stela that was removed from Izapa’s Group F and taken here to be converted into this throne. But a couple things don’t seem to adhere to that thinking.”
“Such as?” Peet asked.
“No other throne platform in Izapa is carved like a stela and stelae are intended to stand erect. Also, the stelae in Group F each depict a single scene. But here…” He swept a hand over the throne’s carved surface. “Here we have two separate episodes on the same panel—the defeat of Seven Macaw and the rebirth of One Hunahpu.”
“But again, it’s a story,” KC argued. “Who really cares in the big scheme of things.”
“Actually,” John said, “The Courageous Twin story ties perfectly into the big scheme.”
KC looked doubtful.
John smiled. “There is far more to the Twins than just a story.”
Mythology
John loved sharing knowledge. If that knowledge had anything to do with Mesoamerican cultures, he loved it even more. Teaching had once been his passion and watching the light come on in his students due to something he’d just presented was the highest joy of the profession. So when the opportunity arose to head the Effigy exhibit at the Museum of Anthropology in Mexico City, he jumped at the chance. But entertaining curious tourists wasn’t nearly as satisfying as delivering academic instruction and so, for the first time in ten years, he’d begun to seriously consider reinstating his emeritus professorship to the classroom. Part time, of course, and if the university could offer such a position.
He was still waiting for them to respond to his petition.
In the meantime, he needed to fulfill his
stint in Mexico, including this small interruption presented by Matt Webb. Ordinarily, John wouldn’t consider such a last minute request to take on a baseless venture into the field. But Matt had intrigued his curiosity when he mentioned a revisit to an old site John had worked on seventeen years ago – John’s most favored site in all of Mexico.
Izapa.
This was the place where early Mesoamerican theology was compiled, perfected, manufactured and distributed across some of the most fascinating pre-Columbian cultures in the New World. This was the birthplace of Mayan mythology. This was where the brilliance of the Long Count Calendar was conceived.
“Izapa is home to the Twin Boys,” he said.
“Don’t tell me these twins were real people,” KC said.
“Oh, they are real,” John said. “They just aren’t people. You see, the Twin story is a brilliant representation of the astronomical observations made during the seventh Baktun. In fact, using my astronomy software, I believe I’ve pinpointed the exact date of the Twin Boys’ conception.”
“I don’t follow,” KC prodded.
John smiled. He knew he’d captivated his audience and he was anticipating their hunger to learn more.
“You see,” he began, “the skywatching priests of Izapa developed a brilliant mythology around the different bodies moving within the night sky. The First Father, One Hunahpu, was represented by the December solstice sun, which makes sense considering the December solstice was considered a time of creation and renewal. It’s the time when the sun passes through the shortest day of the year and begins renewing its strength. Basically, the December solstice is the Mayan equivalent of new year’s day.”
“So if One Hunahpu is the solstice sun, who are the Twins?”
“Jupiter and Venus.”
Peet snapped his fingers. “I see. This is similar to the way the feathered serpent, Quetzalcoatl, was represented by the star group, Pleiades, to the Toltecs and Aztecs of central Mexico.”
“Exactly,” John said. “Now, when we read the mythology recorded in the Popol Vuh we learn that One Hunahpu was defeated by the Lords of the Underworld and his head was hung in the crook of a tree. When Blood Moon Woman discovered him, his skull magically impregnates her and thus the Twins were conceived.”
“Now how in the world did the Maya read all that in the stars?” KC asked.
“It’s simple when you know how to decode them. In the Mayan world, the great Milky Way represented the tree of life, and the dark rift within the Milky Way was the womb of all creation. When I read about the conception of the Twin Boys, I see an astronomical conjunction occurring.”
“An astronomical what?”
“Conjunction. It’s the coming together of different heavenly bodies. In other words, I believe the Twin conception story explains the observance of the moon, Jupiter and Venus coming together in one point in the night sky—the dark rift of the Milky Way. When I consulted my astronomy software, I discovered that such a conjunction did in fact occur in the dark rift during the seventh Baktun.”
“What day was that?” Peet asked.
“On the December solstice, 165 BC.”
Silence slipped between them as John watched that light come on in the minds of his audience. He took pride in that. Another job well done. Only Matt seemed unaffected, but he knew the story all too well. To him, this was nothing but a re-run. However, John could see the man had fallen deep within his own thoughts. He looked confused, as though he’d found a piece to the wrong puzzle.
“This complicates my working hypothesis considerably,” he murmured.
* * * *
The last thing Matt Webb expected was interference from One Hunahpu and the Twin Boys. Maybe interference wasn’t the right term for it. Whatever the term, he saw no room for their association with Jesus. Even more irritating was the fact that their presence on the throne had distracted Dr. John Friedman from their original task.
“I don’t see how this throne ties into the pillar,” Matt said aloud.
Father Ruiz straightened from his post at the stone pillar as everyone’s attention turned there. It stood slightly taller than the priest and less than ten yards from the throne, itself cleared of vegetation with only a leafy mat of undergrowth lying between them. Peculiar lines were chiseled down the pillar’s cylindrical length and the top was flat with a hole carved three inches deep into its center. A gear shaped hole.
“So this is what brought you to Izapa,” Peet said, stepping around the surveying equipment that hadn’t moved since Matt left John with it nearly a full week ago. Further evidence that progress on his project had ceased.
“We came all this way for a chunk of rock?” KC asked.
“It’s not so much the rock itself as it is its location,” John explained, abandoning the throne alongside Matt. “There are dozens of pillars like this throughout the Izapa complex. It’s peculiar that this one stands alone.”
“That, and the fact that it has a hole in the top,” Matt added.
“The others don’t have holes?” Peet asked.
“If they do, we don’t know about it,” Matt said. “They have balls sitting on top of them.”
Leave it to the woman to ask the uneducated question. “Can’t you just remove the balls?”
“We’re talking about bulky pillars with stone balls too big to wrap your arms around. That’s several tons of rock you’re talking about. Certainly not something you just pick up and set aside.”
“Unless it’s a small pillar with a smaller ball,” Peet added, giving the top of the pillar a tap with this finger.
“That’s right,” Matt said. He stepped up to the pillar as he fished the Kin artifact and a length of kite string from his pocket. “And just as I suspected, the Kin piece we found in Yucatan fits perfectly.”
He demonstrated by stretching the string out over the top of the pillar and gently placed the Kin piece at its center, letting its weight pull the string down as it slipped into the hole. The piece filled the gap snugly with the two ends of the string protruding from opposite sides. However, the hole was deeper than the thickness of the Kin piece, resulting in a slight recess that remained with the piece completely inside.
Matt gave Peet a moment to observe the fitting before he pulled on the two ends of the string and popped the Kin piece back out of the hole. “We discovered that string makes it a lot easier to retrieve the piece than digging it back out with a knife blade,” he explained, catching Peet by surprise as he flipped the Kin piece at him. The anthropologist still managed to catch it with as much care as he would a falling crystal vase.
“Great,” KC snorted irritably. “That’s just great. You mean to tell me we came all this way and lost my plane over two men playing with rocks?”
John’s face fell with a blank expression. “What is she talking about, Anthony?”
Peet stepped away from the pillar looking suddenly sheepish. Perhaps he too was losing the rational for their trip.
He cleared his throat as he turned to John. “The reason I’m here is, well…you.”
John’s round face contorted with confusion. “Me?”
“And Martha. She’s worried about you.”
“What’s to worry about? I told her I would be in the field for a while. I fully expect to be home in time for Christmas.”
“I don’t think she was worried until the FBI came knocking on her door.”
John’s eyes widened with surprise. “The FBI? What were they looking for?”
“You.And the Effigy.”
“What does the Effigy have to do with anything?”
Peet mindlessly fidgeted with the Kin piece as took a seat on the throne. Feeling suddenly troubled, Matt shuffled quietly around them, hands in his pockets, eyes to the ground but his ears fully tuned in as Peet explained the theft of the Effigy of Quetzalcoatl and its unlikely recovery from the cathedral chapel.
This was getting too complicated.
“They believe the Effigy was taken to deflect at
tention from another artifact that was stolen at the same time,” Peet was saying.
“And what could that possibly be?” John asked.
“A pillar ball.” Peet retrieved his cell phone from his vest pocket and powered it up. “You might recognize it,” he added. “It looks like…” He paused.
As Matt expected, the phone struggled to find reception. “It looks like this,” Matt finally interrupted, kneeling over his pack. He buried his hands deep into the canvas bag and when he lifted them back out, they held between them a round stone just slightly larger than a bowling ball. Handprints were chiseled on each side.
It was none other than the museum’s missing pillar ball.
A flabbergasted grunt escaped Peet’s throat. “You stole the pillar ball?”
Matt didn’t care for the accusatory tone in Peet’s voice. In fact, he was beginning to regret the man’s presence all together. The operation had been moving along smoothly until Matt made the heroic rescue from the Zapatistas. Ever since then, he’d faced one question after another, having to explain himself each and every step of the way. Now, the issue with the pillar ball was taking an ugly turn and it was up to him to clean it up.
Who would have thought Peet knew anything about the museum breach?
“I didn’t steal it, exactly,” Matt said. “John sent me to get it.”
“I sent you to get a research loan from the museum,” John retorted. “What exactly did you do?”
Matt rested the pillar ball on the throne where Peet had vacated his seat. “I went to the museum just like you told me to but the curator wasn’t there,” he explained. “They said he would be gone until after the new year.”
“You couldn’t wait two weeks?” Peet asked.
“No,” Matt said matter-of-factly.
“But how did you get access without…” John’s face went blank. He stepped over to his own pack spilling a collection of tools and mapping equipment near the base of the pillar. He knelt down to rummage through the pack only to stand up again empty-handed. “You took my museum pass?”
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