Incarnate: Mars Origin "I" Series Book III (13 page)

“You scared
me.” I said in an agitated voice. I put my hand over my racing heart and tried
to slow down my breathing.

It was a man.
Short, thin and smiling. Fully clothed – so definitely not a “jungle man.” He
wore a short-sleeve blue shirt and a pair of blue jeans.

“Mom,” Logan
shouted. “Why were you screaming? You scared the life out of me.”

“He scared the
life out of me.” I pointed to the man. “Who are you?” I asked in an offensive
tone.

“Jairo.” He
nodded toward Logan with his head. “She knows me.”

I looked at
Logan. “Do you? You know him? Because if you don’t, I’m ready to start running
and screaming.”

“I know him,
Ma.” She didn’t seem too happy about it. “I work with him.”

“Oh,” I said
slowly. “So he probably shouldn’t’ve seen us here, huh?” I looked at him, and
then at Logan who was staring at him. “He probably shouldn’t’ve seen
me
.”

“It’s okay. I
already knew about this place.” He smiled at Logan. “And I am so happy to meet
you, Dr. Dickerson.”

He stuck out
his hand for me to shake, “I’m Jairo Zacapa.” I grasped his outstretched hand
loosely and looked at Logan.

Uh oh
was the first thing that came to mind.
Hope Logan doesn’t get into trouble.

“How did you
find me out here, Jairo?”

“It’s my job to
keep up with what you’re doing, Logan. Make sure you’re doing your job.”

“You’ve been
following me.” Logan spoke as if she was finally understanding something.

“No. It wasn’t
my habit. I did follow you once. That’s how I knew about this. I noticed you
spending a lot of time in the observatory. Well, I thought you were in the
observatory, but never any reports from there. So I followed you out here.
After that I left you to your work.”

“I’m not so
sure this is part of my job,” Logan said. “Or, I guess, I wouldn’t have been
keeping it secret.”

“I know.”

Logan looked at
him thoughtfully. “What does my benefactor have to say about this? Am I being
summoned or something?”

“He doesn’t
know.”

“He? My
benefactor is a ‘he.’ Good to know.” Logan pursed her lips and nodded her head.
She glanced over at him and down to the ground. “So . . .”

“So when I saw
your mother here. I couldn’t resist. I had to come over and meet her.” He
grinned at me.

“How did you
know she was my mother?”

“There’s a
resemblance.”

He was staring
at me the whole time he was having this conversation with my daughter. I didn’t
think him creepy, I was leery of him because I wondered what was going to
happen to Logan’s ability to work on her dig. She hadn’t done a good job of
keeping her secret slab secret.

Or me for
that matter.

“Are you going
to tell him?” she asked.

“No. I want to
help.” He smiled at Logan. “If you’ll let me.”

Cayo District,
Belize

Jairo lived in
a one story house, the kind my mother used to call a “storybook” house because
it was reminiscent of the pictures in books of fairytales. Only this house was
hoisted up on stilts. It was painted a turquoise blue, with a red slate roof.
We had gone there at his invitation, to print out the pictures.

Once inside the
rooms were larger than I would’ve imagined. Everything was neat and bright and
had a freshly cleaned smell. He led us across the living room and through the
dining room. That room had a table in it that took up almost the entire room.
At the back wall he pulled back a curtain to an alcove. In stark contrast this
room was a mess. It was filled with books, papers and pictures of pyramids and
the like strewn across the floor and hanging on the walls. There was an
overstuffed bookcase that was leaning to one side. And on a table amidst a mess
of papers was a late model computer.

“Work room?” I asked.
He just smiled.

He pinned the
curtain back so it stayed open, and swept his hand in an arc, gesturing for
Logan to enter.

“You’ve got
Internet here?” Logan stepped over the papers and books and headed toward the
computer.

“Satellite. Hot
spot from the satellite phone. Courtesy of your benefactor. Just like you.” He
pointed with his head to the phone Logan held in her hand. “But you don’t need
it to print pictures. Go ahead sit down. I’ve got a USB cable to hook up to
your phone.”

“That’s okay. I
emailed them to myself before we left the site. As long as I can get on the
Internet.” She sat down and powered up the computer.

“Yep, you can.”
He put his hand in the small of my back and led me back around the table. “Come
on, Dr. Dickerson. We can sit in here while she prints the pictures.” He
pointed to the living room. I sat down on the sofa. He sat in a chair facing
me.

We spoke in
general to break the ice. I found him likeable and funny. He was nice looking
with an easy smile. He made me laugh and I found myself innocently flirting
with him. I don’t think Logan liked our conversation. I noticed her more than a
couple of times turn and look at us. After a few minutes, the conversation fell
off and we sat quietly. But e
very time my eyes found Jairo
Zacapa, his were staring at me. I’d try to hurriedly look away, but before I
could I’d see him smiling at me. Finally, I just gave in.

“Is
there something you want to say to me?”

“I’m
very happy you’re here in Belize, Dr. Dickerson.” He had a silly grin on his
face.

 
“The
pictures are good,” Logan yelled from the backroom. “Really clear.”

He looked at me
thoughtfully. “You know, there are many pictures in ancient Maya history that
depict space travel,” Jairo said and gave me a sly grin.

I almost
choked.
Where did that come from?

Coughing, I
said the only thing I could think of, “Really?”

“Yes. Pictures
that look like a man sitting in a spaceship. Stories about man coming down from
space. And then there is knowledge that they possessed that was far beyond what
they should have been capable of, like little golden trinkets of
aerodynamically correct airplanes.”

He
had convinced Logan that her secret slab was safe with him. And he had
convinced her to come back to his place to decipher the writings on the slabs
from the pictures she’d taken. He’d help in whatever way he could and he
wouldn’t tell a soul, he had promised.

I’m
guessing that included her benefactor.

Right
now the “whatever” she needed included using his computer and printer. But I
knew for a fact what she didn’t need – or want – was me telling anyone that I
thought the Maya bore some proof to the fact that man originally haled from
Mars.

“I
read your book,” he leaned in and whispered. “I liked it very much.”

“My
book?” I tried to look clueless.

“Don’t
be modest.” He gave me a wink. “I think your theory is spot on.”

I
coughed again.

“How
about if I get you something to drink,” Jairo said to me. “I’m sure all that
time in the jungle has made you parched.”

“Thank
you, but-”

“Be
right back.”

“
. . . I don’t want anything to drink.” I mumbled the last part of my sentence.
Undoubtedly he hadn’t heard me because he was already off to the kitchen to
grab something for me.

 “Do
you want something to drink, Logan? I can tell him to get you something.”

She
didn’t answer.

“Logan.
You want something to drink?” Still no answer.

Maybe she couldn’t hear me.

“So,
Dr. Dickerson,” Jairo said returning with a large glass of ice filled with a
yellowish liquid. “You’re here to help your daughter discover all of the Maya
secrets?”

“No.”
Logan and I spoke in unison. She didn’t even turn around.

I guess she could hear me
.

“No,”
I repeated. “I’m just visiting.” I lied. “Are there Maya secrets?”

“Oh,
I don’t know.” He lifted an eyebrow. “I guess you would know better than me.”

I
wasn’t going to touch that comment with a ten foot pole. At least not when
Logan was in striking distance. I took a sip out of my glass. “Mmmm.” I smacked
my lips “This is good. What is it?”

“
Limonada
con soda.”

“Delicious.”

“Mom,” Logan
called over her shoulder. “Don’t eat the ice, my daddy would be very upset with
me if I let you get sick while you were down here visiting.”

We both looked
toward the back room where she sat then at each other.

Jairo leaned in
and lowered his voice. “The ice is fine, Dr. Dickerson. It’s made with purified
water.”

“Call me,
Justin.” I lowered my voice equal to his. He smiled.

“What are you
two whispering about?” Logan called over her shoulder.

“No one is
whispering,” I said.

Jairo sat up
straight.

“We’ll have to
call Daddy when we get back to the hotel and let him know you’re okay.”

“Why would he
think I wasn’t okay?”

Jairo and my
eyes met again and I started to giggle.

“Mom, can you
come here for a second.”

“Sure, what’s
up?” I went to the back, glass in hand. “Your pictures coming out okay?”

“Yep. They are.
Can you grab that one off the printer?”

“The printer
that’s right here next to you?” I took a sip of my drink.

“Mom.”

“No problem.” I
picked up the picture and moved it the two inches from the printer to the stack
she had already printed out. I started back to the living room.

“Can you just
wait here? I only have two more to print.”

I stood there
feeling foolish. Jairo had gone back to staring at me and grinning like a
Cheshire cat.

“Okay. That’s
the last one.” Logan stood up and grabbed the picture off the printer. Her eyes
darted over to Jairo. She leaned in and whispered, “Did you tell him you were
married.”

“What?”

“Logan, I’m
sorry. Did you want something to drink,” Jairo came to the back, cutting into
our conversation.

“No. I’m fine,
Jairo.” She turned and looked at me. “I think we should go.”

“Go?” Jairo
looked at me. “Why? I thought you wanted to decipher the inscription on the
slab?”

“We can do that
at my trailer.”

At her
trailer? Wasn’t I banned from the trailer?

“Don’t go,
Logan. Let me help,” Jairo said, almost pleading. “I want to help. Look I have
all these books.” He waved his hand the length of the bookcase and picked one
off the shelf. “This one is all about Mayan hieroglyphics.”

“We can stay,”
I said.

Logan shot me a
look.

“We can stay,”
I said firmly. I leaned in closer to Logan. “Is that why you keep mentioning
your father? Did you think I’d forgot about him because I’m around Jairo?” I
smiled patronizingly and patted her on her back “It’s okay. I know I’m
married,” I said with a smirk. “Now don’t be silly. Be professional. And don’t
be rude.” I smacked her on her arm.

She drew in a
sharp breath. “Fine.”

Jairo
was pulling books by the armful off of his shelf and dropping them on the
table. He seemed quite happy with his collection.

I
went over to the table to get a looksee. I moved the books from on top of one
another to view the titles. I noticed one of the books he was so proud of was
Erich Von Däniken’s
Chariots of the Gods?
It looked worn and dog-eared
like it had been read many times.

No wonder he liked my book.

“What’s this?”
I picked up one of the pictures off the dining room table and pointed to a
hieroglyphics. She had just started going over them.

Logan held her
breath, and closed her eyes. She opened them and looked at me and then closed
them again. “I don’t know, yet,” she said in a sing-songy voice.

I held up one
hand, I didn’t know if she saw me. “Okay. Let me know if you need some help.”

I walked back
into the living room and sat down. Jairo followed me. Before he could sit down,
Logan called me.

“I do need some
help, Ma. Can you come in here?”

I sauntered
back into the dining room. She narrowed her eyes and gave me a sideway glance.
I just shook my head and stood next to her. I knew what she was up to –
jarring
my memory. I’d been married for more than thirty years. How could I forget
that?

“What’cha
need?”

I really did
want to help her.

“I don’t know
if these are clues to the carving on the side of the slab. I need you to help
me figure it out.”

“I’ll try, but
I told you I’m not good with clues.”

“I am.” Jairo
popped up behind me. “I’d love to help.” He squeezed by me and picked up one of
the pictures.

Logan exhaled
and glanced at me. She pulled out a chair from under the table and sat. She put
the picture so close to her face it nearly touched her nose. Without looking up
from the picture, she asked, “You know anything about Mayan hieroglyphics?”

“A little,” he
said. “That’s the reason for all the books.” He picked up a picture and pointed
to a glyph. “For instance, this is the symbol for what the Shellhas System
denotes as God D.” He looked up at Logan. “The god Itzamna.”

She raised an
eyebrow. “Yes.” She chuckled.
That’s right. “But I already knew that the slab had something to do with
Itzamna.”

“And here,” he
pointed to something on the picture, “is God H.”

“God H?”

“Yeah. The Maya
deities of the Earth’s interior and also of its waterways. Bacab. The Bacabs
father was Itzamna, the creator of humankind.”

“Bacab,” she
said quietly. She picked up another picture, similar to the one that Jairo held
and looked at it closely. Logan let a smile escape. “It sure is.”

“Let me see
it,” I said. I figured I may as well learn about this stuff. Logan pointed to
the two symbols for me. “Oh. Okay.”

“I’ve got a
book on them.” Jairo dug through the pile he’d unloaded onto the table.

“Them?” I
asked.

“Yes, there
were four of them. One name. Four deities.” He pulled out the book and handed
it to me. “And I’ve got a magnifying glass for you, Logan. Hold on.” He left
scurrying off back behind the curtain to the alcove.

“You got a
notebook in that knapsack?” I asked Logan. She shook her head. She was
concentrating hard on the picture. “Jairo, bring a notebook too,” I called to
him. “One I can keep. If you have it.”

The notebook
was more for Logan than me. Although it was nice to flip through the pages and
read on the research I was using it for, my eidetic memory kept everything I
read stuffed safely inside my brain.

“Thanks.” I
took the notebook from Jairo when he got back. I noticed he had one for
himself. I dug a pen out of my purse, pulled up a seat and starting jotting
down what we’d got so far. First thing I wrote was “Follow the Corn.”

 “Let me
see that.” I pointed across the table. “Is that another book about the Bacab?”

“Just Bacab,
Ma? That’s the only thing you’re going to look at?” Logan said. She pushed it
over to me. “Jairo, where’s the book you’ve got on hieroglyphics?”

“I have lots.
But I’ve got a good one by the computer. Let me grab it.”

Okay
. .
. I looked at my daughter.
Maybe I could learn more than just about Bacab.

I got up and
grabbed a few of the other books. I put the two on Bacab on the bottom. I’d
look at them last. I laid the notebook on the table and the pen on top of it and
opened up a book and started thumbing through it.

“Okay,” Logan
exhaled. “One line at a time.” I heard her mumble. She reached out and with her
fingertips and slid the notebook I’d been using over and started writing.

Jairo picked up
a picture and cracked open a book as well.

My first book
was about the
Popol Vuh
. Apparently,
that was the bible of Maya culture. It was comprised of narratives of mythical
and historical events. The Maya creation story and genealogies. And like Logan
said, everything corn.

The
book’s creation story piqued my interest. I remember that Logan told me one
myth was that man was created from corn. It relayed that animals were created
first, followed by humans. Just like the Holy Bible. Although, in my years of
excavations, I found that most religions had stories similar to biblical
accounts. But what was fascinating to me, was that the
Popol Vuh
said
that there were two sets of humans. The second set was made from wood “but
didn’t have souls or minds.”

That
was almost exactly what the AHM Manuscripts had said about a man the Ancients
had created. They acknowledged that God created man, but then wrote that they
had made their own, too. Not a cloned one, but they
created
one. I had
deduced that the man they created was the Neanderthal. I saw the words from the
manuscript float in front of me:

We placed
our crude imitation of man on the third planet. We watched and observed. We
were never to get it quite right though, the creatures did not develop as we
hoped. They were incapable of speech, or a brain that could support or
comprehend the knowledge we possessed. Truly our first attempts were more
animal-like than human, but, in our eyes we had triumphed
.

Their arrogance
had been the start of their fall.

I closed my
eyes.

Could the
Maya creation story be about the same thing that was in my manuscripts?
I
glanced up at Logan, afraid she might be able to read my thoughts. She’d have a
fit if she knew I was associating her slab with my manuscripts.

“Ma.”

I jumped.

“What are you
doing?”

“Learning about
the Maya.”

Could she
read my thoughts?

“Maybe you
could get a book on hieroglyphics and learn it real quick so you could help me
and Jairo translate.”

Learn it
real quick? Help Jairo? Was it okay to be nice to him now?

“Uhmm.
Sweetie. It takes years to learn-”

“Ma.”

Okay, that excuse wasn’t going to work.

“Jairo,
would you hand me a book. And one of those pictures, please?” I said.

Darn my photographic memory.