The Lost Book of Wonders

by Chad Brecher

  “To the east,” Ellie nearly whispered. And the LORD God planted a garden eastward in Eden.

  Alex nodded silently, allowing his gaze to drift from her brilliant eyes to above her right shoulder. He could see the man standing in the piazza slowly pan the telephoto lens from the basilica towards the Church of San Procolo. The lens sparkled in the sunlight.

  33

  The interior of the church was dark and considerably less ornate than the larger, neighboring basilica. An ethereal mix of yellows and whites streamed through the octagonal window and cast a wide circle of light upon the stone surface. The church appeared deserted as they quietly filed inside. Clay wandered around the nave examining frescoes depicting events from the New Testament.

  “What exactly are we looking for?” Jonas gave Alex a sideways glance.

  “I don’t know.” Alex found himself whispering the response, unwilling to disturb the unsettling silence that filled the church.

  “Wonderful,” Jonas groaned sarcastically.

  “Look…we know that the notary of Marco Polo’s last will and testament, John Giustiniani, was the priest of this church during Marco Polo’s final years. We’ve recovered two symbols associated with his tabellionato. The message in the box also points to Saint Procolo…”

  “Welcome, friends.” The voice interrupted Alex and appeared to emanate from the darkness. Alex could detect out of the corner of his eye Jonas’s hand slip under his coat in search of his weapon. They turned to see an old man dressed in a priestly vestment emerge from the shadows of the church. The man was diminutive in height with an anemic countenance that matched the white of his collar. His stooped frame only served to accentuate his feeble state.

  “Welcome. This church does not see many tourists these days,” the man wheezed. “They flock to the basilica but take little notice of this church at the edge of the piazza. This is truly a shame.” The man shook his head and muttered, “Tsk, tsk.”

  “It’s a beautiful church,” Clay responded, having rejoined the group.

  “Indeed. It is the oldest church in Verona.” The priest smacked his lips and attempted to moisten his mouth. His hands shook from a resting tremor. He studied each of the visitors with a look of curiosity as if trying to make sense of the motley group before him — an elderly, aristocratic man, a brooding, muscular companion, and a young couple. “I am Father Fermo, the priest and curator of San Procolo.”

  “We are historians of sorts,” Alex said, avoiding eye contact with Jonas. “We would love to hear more about this church.”

  The man smiled and Alex could detect a flicker of pleasure in his eyes. “Historians, you say? Si, of course…hear more. Where do we begin?” The priest closed his eyes as if asleep.

  “How old is this church?” Ellie prompted.

  The priest opened his eyes, cupped his hand over his ear, and leaned in. “How old you ask? Very old. The church dates back to sometime in the sixth or seventh century. No one knows for certain. The records have been lost long ago. This unfortunately is not the original church though. What I would give to see it in its original form! The church was destroyed by the great earthquake of 1117 and was subsequently rebuilt. It has been updated through the centuries, a new fresco here and there, but has remained fundamentally unchanged throughout much of the last millennia.”

  “It is as Polo might have seen it. Pretty amazing,” Ellie whispered to Alex.

  “What’s that young lady, Polo?”

  Ellie glanced at Alex who nodded his approval. “Is there any connection of this church to Marco Polo?” Ellie asked.

  The priest tapped his index finger against his pink lips. “Marco Polo, the Venetian? No connection that I’m aware of, I’m afraid.”

  Clay pushed his body slightly between the priest and Ellie. “Father, have you heard of a priest named John Giustiniani?”

  “Giustiniani, you say? I grew up with a Leonardo Giustiniani who became a priest. I haven’t seen him since I was a child.” The priest smiled.

  “This priest was from the fourteenth century,” Clay added.

  “I may be old but not that old.” Father Fermo chuckled. Alex could see Clay’s shoulders sag.

  “We need to explore the inside of this church,” Ellie whispered through clenched teeth to Alex.

  Alex tugged on the priest’s sleeve.

  “Father, if you are not too busy, we would really appreciate hearing more of your insight on this church.”

  “A tour…si, si a tour. I’m afraid it won’t be long.” He raised his arms. “You see it is a small church.” The priest motioned for them to follow as he walked towards the back of the church. “There are only two parts — the nave and the crypt.”

  The crypt! Alex thought. Not escaping eternal sin. What better place?

  Alex trotted next to the priest. “Could we see the crypt?”

  The priest ushered them to follow him further into the church. He looked back as he walked and winked. “The tourists always want to see a crypt. Priceless frescoes? No, where are the dead bodies, they ask. A fascination with the grotesque, I suppose.”

  As they neared the back of the church, the ground became uneven. Careful inspection revealed that many of the stones were disturbed and piled high in the corner. Clay tripped suddenly, only to regain his footing at the last second, avoiding toppling into a larger hole.

  “Mind your feet. It’s the University. They bring their archeology students to tear up the church every now and then. They’ve found ancient burial grounds beneath the stones and portions of the original church.” The priest looked away in thought. “Come to think of it, I haven’t heard from them in a while. I wish they would come back and clean up their mess.”

  They reached a series of stone steps and descended into a small crypt. The walls of the staircase contained several carved-out graves emptied of their previous inhabitants. A Roman lead coffin sat on a pedestal within the crypt. There were two aisles with chairs, an altar, and an elaborate display of lit candles that flickered from an unseen draft and cast a reddish glow.

  “Welcome to the crypt of San Procolo.” Father Fermo stood to the side as the group entered the crypt and silently dispersed. Alex walked around the perimeter looking for any clue. The walls were constructed from a dark stone. There were iron sconces fastened to the walls, each with a single light bulb that provided a modicum of illumination. The walls were unadorned except for a gilded cross, secured to the wall opposite the stairs.

  “Father, would John Giustiniani, the priest of San Procolo during the fourteenth century have been buried here?” Alex asked as his eyes scanned the interior of the crypt with frustration.

  “I do not know this John Giustiniani, I’m afraid. Some were buried on the church property, I suppose. Others were buried in the place of their birth. The records have long since vanished. The crypt was reserved for men of great stature. The remains of San Procolo, himself, are beneath us. In those days, the elite of Verona paid a considerable fee to be interred here.”

  “Sounds like they didn’t let just anyone into this place. Expensive real estate I suppose…” Jonas muttered.

  Clay leaned in to Alex. “You see anything?”

  “No,” Alex replied as his eyes drifted across the interior of the room. He studied the ceiling, finding it to be soot-covered and claustrophobically low. “The lack of lighting doesn’t help.”

  “Well, Alex. One thing this old fart realized many years ago is that anything worth achieving is never easy and what one is searching for is usually right in front of your eyes.”

  “That’s a bit cliché, Redmund,” Ellie teased.

  “Its only cliché because it’s true. Once when I was in the Amazon trekking with a bunch of botanist in search of a plant used by the indigenous people for centuries…”

  Alex walked several feet away and dropped to a crouch position. The floor was constructed out of large square stones. A thick strip of mortar ran the length of the sides, securing the stones together. The surf
ace of the stones, blackened with silver streak, rose and fell unevenly. Alex tilted his head and peered at Clay’s shoes. Alex stood up and made his way to the altar. Father Fermo followed his movement with interest.

  “May I?” Alex did not wait for the priest to answer. He reached out, gripped the large white candle by its base, and lifted it out of the golden candleholder.

  Father Fermo looked perplexed as Alex held aloft the candle with the wax dripping down his wrist as he wove his way through the chairs and once again squatted near Clay’s feet.

  “…and that’s how I was able to extract the essential oil, johimbo, that is the active ingredient in Clay Pharmaceutical’s newest breast cancer drug, lactophyton.” Clay peered down at his feet, surprised to see Alex examining the ground near his shoes. “Lose something?”

  Alex ignored Clay and positioned the candle over the stone Clay was standing upon. Clay and Ellie responded by backing away. Alex shuffled forward on his knees, his fingers tightly gripped around the base of the candle. The flame flickered wildly as he neared the stone. He cupped his left hand in front of the flame to shield it from the unseen air escaping from the edges of the stone. The light settled on the stone’s surface, revealing a series of silver symbols. “It’s not right in front of our eyes,” Alex announced. Clay and Ellie kneeled down beside Alex and examined the stone surface. “It’s right under our feet.”

  “Polo.” The name escaped Ellie’s lips.

  The symbols — three walking birds — were chiseled into the stone. Weathered and trotted upon through the centuries, the stick-like avian images were faintly perceptible against the jagged, dark stone surface.

  “What do we do?” Ellie whispered as the three of them huddled together and Jonas looked on from above. Alex peered back at the priest. Jonas had engaged the priest in a discussion on Ancient Rome’s role in plumbing. Jonas feigned a scholarly demeanor. Between nods of agreement with what the priest was mumbling, he would periodically shoot the rest of the group a pained expression.

  “We need to pry this stone up. We need to see what’s under it. See this air?” Alex withdrew his left hand that had shielded the flame. The flame danced violently. “There is air coming from below the crypt. There has to be a void.”

  Ellie glanced back at the priest who had finished conversing with Jonas and was busy replacing the candle Alex had taken with a new one. She motioned towards the priest. “We can’t just come in here with a backhoe and tear apart the place.”

  The group grew silent. Alex traced the edges of the stone, his fingers settling in a gap where the mortar had corroded and disappeared.

  “Leave it to me.” Clay rose to his feet and conferred with Jonas in the corner for a moment. Ellie could see Jonas nod his head in agreement and approach the priest.

  “Father Fermo, we would like to make a donation to the church.”

  The priest’s eyes widened with interest.

  “A donation?”

  “Dr. Clay would like to make a very generous donation. If we could move into the nave, we could discuss this further.”

  “Si, discuss…donation.”

  34

  Ellie watched as Alex squeezed his fingers into the void separating the two adjacent stone slabs and fruitlessly pulled upwards with a grunt.

  “It’s pointless, Alex. You’ll never be able to lift it.”

  They could hear footsteps on the stairs behind them. Clay and Jonas descended into the crypt with their arms full. Clay squatted down and placed several flashlights in a row. Beside the flashlights, he delicately deposited an old battery-powered lantern. Jonas followed with a bundle of sturdy pieces of wood and two black crowbars. Ellie panned around, expecting to see the priest hovering behind them.

  “What happened? What did you do to Father Fermo?” Ellie asked suspiciously.

  “That’s awfully accusatory, Ellie. It seems that our pious priest is an agreeable soul. A hefty donation to support his Church of San Procolo and more importantly an even heftier donation to purchase a villa on the shores of Lake Como were enough to buy us the items before you and whatever time we need to tear up this place. I can assure you of one thing, privacy.” Clay reached over and turned a knob on the lantern. The lantern emitted an insect-like buzz and bathed the crypt in a yellow glow. “Where do we begin?”

  Alex surveyed the items resting on the ground and grimaced. “We need to free up the stone.” He pantomimed a digging motion. “Get the bar into the crack and pry it upwards.”

  Jonas grabbed a crow bar, jabbed the straight end into the narrow opening, and pulled the fulcrum down. The muscles in his arms strained and his face turned purple as he struggled to elevate the stone.

  “We need to loosen the mortar connecting this stone to the adjacent stones. Otherwise, it’s useless,” Ellie directed.

  Alex retrieved the second metallic bar and brought the tapered straight end down against the edge of the corroded mortar. With repetitive stabs, he drove the end into the gray material and watched as it crumbled into a heap of curdled pieces. Jonas, upon seeing Alex’s success, joined in at the far end of the stone and began to carve away at the mortar, revealing a black gap between the edges of the stone slabs.

  After thirty tedious minutes of chipping away at the grout, Alex eased the last remnant of the clay-like material out of the gap and blew away the debris. He sunk back with exhaustion and dabbed at the sweat collecting on his forehead.

  “Excellent job.” Clay rose to his feet and patted Alex and Jonas on the back. “Now all we need is to pry up the stone.”

  “The stone probably weighs five-hundred pounds,” Alex sighed.

  “Then it’s a good thing we have four people. Let’s go,” urged Clay with excitement.

  “O.K.” Alex pushed himself onto his knees and lifted the crow bar. He slid the end of the bar into the gap on the far end of the stone and watched as Jonas reciprocated on the opposite end.

  “When the stone moves up, you need to slide in that piece of wood.” Jonas directed Ellie towards the piece of lumber in the corner with a motion of his head.

  Jonas shot Alex a fatigued look and nodded. They simultaneously pushed the handles of the bars downwards. The metal scraped against the stone surface, sending forth a deafening screech throughout the crypt. The stone initially resisted as unseen mortar cracked and broke away beneath it. The stone then slowly rose from a narrow stone ledge upon which it had rested for centuries. Ellie watched intently as Alex struggled to maintain his grip on the crow bar. His triceps quivered uncontrollably as the bar slipped from his sweaty palms, sending the stone crashing back down with a bang. A cloud of dust wafted into the air. Ellie coughed into her fist.

  “Five-hundred pounds! I think it is a lot heavier than that. We might just need that backhoe after all.” Alex paced around the room massaging the palms of his hand, which had turned a scarlet red. Jonas panted as he fixated on the stone with disappointment.

  “Let’s go, my boy. Do you need an old man to do a young man’s work?” Clay picked up the bar and replaced it into the gap. He nodded to Jonas who, still panting, followed suit by slipping his crow bar into the crevice. They began to push down. The stone once again began to budge, rising slightly up in the air. Clay groaned as he pushed down with all his might. The two men began to run out of steam and the ascent suddenly halted. The stone bobbed up and down, threatening to drop. Alex ran to Clay’s side, slipped his hands next to the old man’s, and joined in the effort. The stone inched further off the ground. As it cleared the surface, Ellie encouraged them to keep pushing. Just as the men could not hold up the stone for a second longer, Ellie slid the wood underneath the stone and backed away. The three men eagerly relaxed their grips on the bars and allowed the stone to settle onto the piece of wood. The wood squealed uncomfortably but managed to hold the slab of stone up.

  Clay smiled painfully. “Just a couple of more pieces of wood and I do believe we could squeeze through.”

  Alex looked at Jonas and grimaced. The
metal bars were once again wedged beneath the slab and the stone was slowly lifted off the wood. Ellie rapidly slid additional pieces of wood underneath the stone until the slab leaned precariously on the pile at nearly a sixty-degree angle like a hatch partially swung opened.

  “I think we’re good,” Ellie announced.

  “Hand me the flashlight,” Alex urged as he positioned himself prostrate and eased his body up to the hole. He looked with some concern at the stone slab perilously teetering on the pile of wood and shook off the thought of what might happen if the wood snapped. Flashlight in hand, he peered into the darkness beneath the stone and turned on the light. He panned the beam of light into the blackness, revealing a short drop onto a stone surface. Clay gripped his ankles as Alex swung his body over the edge and hung partially suspended. He could make out the far wall of a small room beneath them. Alex motioned with his right hand to be pulled up.

  “What did you see?” Clay asked as he knelt down.

  “Not a heck of a lot. There’s a room below us. I can’t see very far. There is a small drop, not too far.”

  Jonas wordlessly began to gather up the flashlights. The three of them looked up at him.

  “Well, what are we waiting for?”

  35

  Alex was the first to descend into the darkness. Squatting next to the opening, he pivoted his torso and allowed his feet to slip through the gap. He wiggled his hips until half his body hung over the side and gripped the edges of the hole. Ellie knelt down next to him and tried to direct the beam of the flashlight into the abyss, without success. Alex gave her a ‘here goes nothing look’ and pushed his body backwards into the hole. He suspended himself momentarily as his knuckles turned to white. With a slight swinging motion, Alex released his grip, fell backwards, and disappeared into the darkness.

  Ellie rushed to the hole and fumbled with the flashlight. “Alex!”

  The beam of the flashlight bounced about as Ellie frantically searched for Alex. She could make out coarse stone walls and explored the ground below her, expecting to see Alex’s body splayed out upon it. The floor was bare. “Alex!”