by Lin Oliver
“Was that the trip where we were by the pond with all those orange and yellow frogs?” I asked her.
“Yes!”
“And I found an orange frog that we named Jessie. I caught it with your daughter. She had long brown hair, right?”
“Diana! Yes, Leo. She had a huge crush on you, you little rascal,” she said, and laughed with her opera voice.
“Diana,” I said, remembering the girl at school. “Does she wear a dog-tooth necklace these days?”
“Why, yes, Leo,” she said, surprised. “As a matter of fact she does. It was made for her by a tribesman in Borneo. But how would you know that?”
“I think I met her in school today. Does she go to Satellite North Middle School?”
“She does, but only while I’m teaching here in New York. The rest of the year, we live in Borneo. But tell me, Leo, why are you at Satellite North? I thought you were at the Academy of —”
“Yes,” Crane butted in, stepping in front of me and speaking only to Dr. Reed. “We’re doing everything we can to get him back into the Academy of Science and Arts. Those worthless bureaucrats at the school district switched up his file and dropped him from his classes. I’ve been on the phone with those blindworms all day, but all they know how to do is push a pencil and shuffle papers. I’d have more luck navigating Daedalus’s labyrinth blindfolded than getting them to fix this ridiculous clerical error.” And after that web of lies poured out of him as smoothly as spider’s silk, Crane asked me if I’d enjoyed my first day.
“It was great,” I played along. “I met a ton of smart kids, and all my teachers made me feel at home. Mr. Dickerson’s a really nice guy, too.”
“Wonderful, Leo,” Crane said, patting my shoulder awkwardly. “And as much as I’d love to discuss your schooling and listen to you and Dr. Reed wax on about the old days, I’m afraid Dr. Reed has to be leaving shortly, and I wanted to bring you into our conversation about this mask here.”
Crane picked up the burlap sack, clumps of dried red mud falling to the concrete floor, and carefully removed the mask.
“Dr. Reed has spent so much time in Borneo, she’s practically an Indonesian citizen,” he said. “And a little birdie told me that the Sultan of Brunei has offered her marriage no less than three times.”
“But what about Diana’s dad?” I blurted out, remembering a fuzzy image of a bearded man who was always tinkering around with a sailboat.
“Claudio,” Dr. Reed said, bringing her hand to her mouth. I noticed she wasn’t wearing a wedding ring. “Yes, Leo. That trip was just before Claudio and I parted ways. My life in Borneo didn’t interest him, and we were spending so much time apart….”
Her voice trailed off, and I was sorry I had asked the question.
“So do you like it in Borneo?” I asked quickly, not wanting to make her any more uncomfortable.
“Oh yes,” she smiled. “So much that I’m heading back in only a few days for a six-month assignment.”
“Well, I can assure you, Dr. Reed, you’ll not find any artifacts half as remarkable as this mask,” Crane said.
“I agree, Crane. It is quite remarkable. Have you been able to date it?” she asked him.
“I’ve had the wood carbon-dated. I just got the results, and they indicate that it is approximately three thousand years old.”
“That old? Hmm … Well, that date does correspond to when we believe the island was first settled.”
“But there’s more, Dr. Reed,” Crane said. “The teeth are made of alexandrite, a stone native to Brazil and Sri Lanka, but not Borneo. And though I have only managed to get a rough estimate, argon dating suggests that these stones were quarried more than ten thousand years ago, possibly much earlier….”
“That can’t be right, Crane. Have you repeated the argon dating?”
While they discussed argon dating, I studied the mask. It was the size of a human head. The face was made of a golden wood covered in a thick layer of black goop. But despite the goop, the wood almost glowed underneath it. It had only a smooth bump for a nose and giant batlike ears. The sharp teeth were made of stones that seemed to change from red to green, colors that almost seemed imaginary, which changed depending on how you looked at them. By its chin, there was a rough edge, probably where the other half of the mask, the twin side, had once been before it was snapped off.
But what grabbed me and wouldn’t let go were its giant hollow eye sockets. They were so eerie, almost like it had once had eyes, but they had been scooped out. The wood in the eye sockets became darker and darker until at their very centers, they were completely black. I kept trying to avoid looking into the depths of its hollow eyes, fearing that if I looked closely enough, I might see some ancient chunks of flesh. But those eyes seemed to follow me and draw my sight toward their black centers. I had the urge to reach out and touch the inner eye sockets with my fingers. The thing gave me the creeps.
“Leo,” I heard Crane say. “Stop daydreaming and pay attention. I asked you a question.”
“Sorry, I didn’t hear it.”
“I asked you to tell Dr. Reed how your father acquired this mask.”
The truth was that I had almost no idea how or where he got it, but I had made up an elaborate lie when Crane had first asked me about it. He was so desperate to know the facts that I made them up and traded that information, all false, for Crane’s permission to let me go to the dolphin island on his private jet. But now I was stuck in the lie, and I had no choice but to live with it.
“He was traveling up a river in Borneo for days on end,” I began, “through rapids and jungles until he finally reached a small village where the shaman gave him the mask. He said it was a Kayan village.”
Dr. Reed gave me a questioning glance.
“He said that?”
“Yes,” I lied.
“But the Kayan don’t make masks of this type.”
“Leo’s description perfectly matches the topography of the area near a fork in the Kayan River,” Crane said, “where it splits into the Kayan and the Bahau. I plan to go there and see if I can find the other half, its twin.”
“I just don’t know why a mask with these characteristics would be from that region,” Dr. Reed said. “It’s far more similar to Dayak work, but even then, it’s not typical of the region. And the alexandrite stones … I’ve never heard of them being used in any Bornean works. You said it yourself, Crane, the closest place they could have come from is Sri Lanka, an entire sea and almost three thousand miles from Borneo.”
“But are you aware, Dr. Reed,” Crane said softly, “that Dr. Eugène Dubois, discoverer of the Java man skull, was also given a Siamese twin mask, similar in all respects to this half here, by a village elder on Java? That mask also traveled great distances.”
“That story about Dubois is a legend, Crane. I know he made sketches of the mask and loaded it onto his ship, but the mask disappeared en route to France. Those sketches have always been viewed with suspicion.”
“Yet I’m sure you know, Dr. Reed,” he went on, his voice suddenly getting tight and agitated, “that many other explorers have also described being given masks such as this one? Explorers to Burma, to India, and even the Nepalese Himalayas. All of them conjoined-twin masks. All of them containing elements not native to the areas where they were found. And all of these masks mysteriously disappeared en route — none ever made the journey back, but simply disappeared like ghosts. And what’s more, Dr. Reed, every one of those adventurers who happened to discover such a twin mask, would find himself the victim of plots: sabotage, blackmail, even murder.”
“Legends, Crane, legends.”
“But, Dr. Reed, surely you know that there is an element of truth in every legend. Wasn’t the great walled city of Troy just one of your ‘legends,’ until Calvert and Schliemann dug it up? And wasn’t Atlantis a just a ‘legend,’ until Evans discovered the lost Minoan civilization on Crete? And what of the ruins found beneath the surface of Hera?”
&nb
sp; I couldn’t take my eyes off Crane. He was spouting facts and names like he had just swallowed a history textbook. His calm, deliberate businesslike manner was completely gone, replaced by a speedy almost hysterical tone. His hands were flailing so fast his diamond ring practically made streaks in the air.
“All right, Crane,” Dr. Reed said, not too impressed with his flood of historical facts. “Let’s say your legends are true. I still don’t know what you’re hoping to prove by finding the other half of this mask.”
I wanted to say, “Aside from earning a fortune from it?” but I resisted the temptation.
“That there is much we don’t know about the ancient world,” Crane said with absolute authority. “These conjoined masks that have cropped up all over might be relics of an ancient civilization, one that existed when there was a solid land mass between India and Australia. When ancient people could travel by land.”
Dr. Reed laughed, her operatic guffaw sounding not as kind as it had at first. Crane turned as red as the silk handkerchief in his suit pocket. He wasn’t someone who was fond of being laughed at, and I admired Dr. Reed for not caring.
“Come on, now, Crane,” she said. “You honestly think you know more than all the professors who have studied the ancient world their whole lives? That you, an amateur, are going to discover evidence of an entire ancient culture we know nothing about? That takes a lot of nerve.”
“You call it nerve, I call it passion,” Crane said, using his silk handkerchief to wipe his brow. “History fills me with passion.”
Dr. Reed shook her head.
“I know you, Crane. Your passion is money.”
“If there is a dollar to be made from the study of history, why not?” he said, neatly folding his handkerchief and placing it back in his pocket. In that single gesture, he completely regained his business voice and cool composure.
“A leopard doesn’t change its spots,” she mused. “So when do you intend to go on your expedition?”
“As soon as Leo here can help me pin down the exact location of the village,” he answered.
“Ah, the one near the Kayan,” she said, looking at me with a raised eyebrow. “I’ll be interested to see what you find, Leo.”
“Leo has remembered much of what his father told him about the location,” Crane said, “but I’m hoping that if I bring him along as a kind of guide, more details will emerge from his rather imprecise brain.”
I stared at Crane in disbelief. He had never mentioned taking me to Borneo, or anywhere else for that matter, other than to that crummy middle school in North Brooklyn.
“It’s a shame you cannot join me on my expedition, Dr. Reed,” Crane said. “Your expertise would be invaluable.”
“I’m flying to Samarinda in only three days, and there is much to do before then,” she answered. “Leo, I’m sorry you won’t get more time to reconnect with Diana. Perhaps we’ll all meet again soon.”
“Enchanté, mademoiselle,” Crane said, and kissed her hand. “Your intoxicating presence is welcome here anytime.”
“Stop it, you old mule,” she said, laughing. “And would you mind terribly if Leo walked me down? We have years to catch up on, and I’ll have to steal whatever little parts of him I can.”
“You may,” Crane said, and when she picked up her purse, Crane looked at me and discretely put his finger to his lips. “Au revoir.”
Dr. Reed took my arm as if I were some sort of English gentleman as we headed to the elevator. Klevko was waiting for us. Before we got in, she leaned in close to me and whispered in my ear.
“We have to talk,” she said.
“We do?”
“You may be able to lie to your uncle, but you can’t fool me. I know a lie when I hear one.”
And without another word, she dropped my arm, took Klevko’s, and strode into the elevator.
Klevko took us down to the street level, but he didn’t give Dr. Reed much time to catch up with me. He kept touching her dangling earrings and carved necklaces as if he intended to sell them at some point.
“You are very beautiful woman,” he said. “I have a gentleman’s — how do you say? — eh … eh crush. You have a husband?”
“Thank you, Klevko. But a gentleman should keep his hands to himself.”
“You are a handsome woman for being so old. You remind me of Leo’s mother, Yolanda. Two beautiful matkas. Not like my wife, Olga. She says you have the evil eye.”
“I’m sorry she feels that way,” Dr. Reed said as Klevko let us out of the elevator into the lobby.
“Stump, he waits for you outside,” he said. Before he had finished his sentence, we heard Olga screaming at him from inside their basement apartment.
“Klevko,” she hollered. “Get in here now. Your sausages, they get cold. I didn’t cook them for you so they could get cold.”
“Olga, she is mean old woman, but she makes kielbasa like my own matka made,” he said sheepishly, then turned and disappeared into his basement apartment.
Dr. Reed grabbed my arm, looked over both shoulders, and pulled me close to her, talking in a nervous stage whisper over the howling wind outside.
“Okay, Leo, I don’t know why you’ve told Crane that tall tale, but you’re in over your head. It’s not going to hold up.”
“So you knew that what I told Crane was a lie?”
“Of course. I was your dad’s contact in Borneo and set him up with the Kayan villages he visited.”
“Oh, then he actually was on the Kayan River? Wow, I just made a bunch of stuff up and fed it to Crane.”
“Leo, lies have a way of coming true if they’re repeated enough times. But your uncle isn’t going to let this go. He’s obsessed with that mask. Obsessed. I can see it in his eyes and the way his hands tremble when he touches it. He’s going to do everything in his power to find the other half, which is why I don’t want him coming anywhere near the Kayan villages, or even Borneo at all.”
“I don’t get it. My dad didn’t seem to think that mask was anything that great. I know Crane, and he only cares about money.”
“Obsession is about more than money, Leo,” she said, shivering from the icy air that was penetrating through the cracks in the floorboard. “Crane is working with some wild ideas, and I believe he wants to prove his theory right. He actually believes that mask and all the other mysterious masks were made before the end of the last ice age, before the glaciers melted, when the continent of Asia stretched all the way to Australia. He believes he’s going to uncover proof of a civilization that has never been documented.”
“Weird. Can you get rich from that?”
“You can get famous. You can get respect. Your uncle has a lot to prove that has nothing to do with money. You know about his mother, right?”
“His beloved mother, Marie?”
“Yes, Leo. What do you know about her?”
“Only that saying her name opens a secret panel. And that she married my grandfather Tiberius when Crane was eleven and my dad was six. They were stepbrothers. My dad loved Tiberius but didn’t like to talk about his stepmother much.”
A car honked twice outside over the wind. It was Stump, waiting to leave.
“I don’t have much time, Leo,” Dr. Reed said, “so you’re going to have to fill in the blanks yourself. It will help you understand Crane. What I can tell you is that Marie Rathbone was a famous medium, you know, a psychic. She led a number of spiritualist circles and séances.”
“Like talking to the dead?” I asked.
“Yes. But of course, she was a fraud, like most mediums — using slight-of-hand tricks and preying on people’s desire to believe. After she married your grandfather Tiberius, she accompanied him on all his archeological expeditions around the world. And soon, she began publishing her own ‘archeological’ books, all of them phony Hollow Earth fantasies —”
“Hollow Earth?”
“Yes, a bogus theory that was immediately disproven when we began peering beneath the Earth’s surf
ace with —”
“With sound waves, right?” I said. “Sort of like radar, or echolocation.” I’d read about that when I was learning about dolphin echolocation. Scientists would shoot high-energy sound waves through the Earth, and based on the way that they bounced around, they could tell what the interior of the Earth was like.
“Splendid, Leo,” she said. “Before we were able to examine the Earth’s interior scientifically, there were hundreds of books claiming the Earth was hollow inside. Some even claimed that the hollow Earth was populated by a species of humans far more advanced than us, possessing magical technologies, who had to retreat underground for reasons unknown. Of course, most of those ideas actually came from science-fiction novels. Marie’s books represent the very worst of the Hollow Earth field. Just dreadful gibberish.”
Dr. Reed eyed the door. “I have to go,” she said. “Crane’s driver is waiting.”
“Just tell me a few more things,” I said. “Stump can wait one more minute.”
Dr. Reed sighed, tapped her lips, and looked at the door. “Marie claimed she was in telepathic contact with these beings under the Earth, and that they led her to artifacts to prove their existence. Metal discs inscribed with bizarre symbols from Brazil, deformed skeletons, crystalline stones from lost cities of the Maya, the list goes on and on. Of course, every object she produced was quickly determined to be either completely ordinary or a total fake, and her reputation became a joke. I’m sure as a young teenager, this hurt Crane deeply. He was very attached to her.”
“So you think that’s why he wants to show the world how smart he is?” I asked. “To prove something?”
“Just my theory,” she said, “but I know a thing or two about human psychology.”
The lobby door swung open, and Stump stepped inside letting in the swirling wind, covered in white ice like a ghost.
“Lady, come on!” he hollered. “This ain’t a hotel.”
“One moment, sir,” she said politely to him, then got even closer to me, whispering, “Find out more about Marie Rathbone, Leo. It will help you understand your uncle.”