Truthseekers (3 page)

It had all started with the death of that relative eight years ago. David had never even heard of the man, never knew he existed. Yet upon a
phone call from a lawyer telling him of his luck, David was presented with a guitar. He immediately knew the guitar was worth a lot of money. It was a Gibson Les Paul 1959, and there are very few of these in good condition. Worth well over half a million dollars, the rare guitar was initially to be sold to renovate his home, but due to his early business success, spurred on by the fact that he knew he had this asset to fall back on, things had gone well. Now the guitar would never be sold. It now didn’t need to be. Since he met Rocko in the following year at a seminar, their joint businesses had done very well, enjoying huge upturns when the markets were down. This had given them financial freedom, both in fact had that even before meeting, and cash to splurge on their passion: the search for truth.

This is what they had both done for the past three years. Their businesses almost never needing their input, Rocko and David travelled the world in search of truths and releasing them. It was like treasure hunting but with true wealth as the outcome. Every one of them aligned with the shift in consciousness.

“Sounds like a plan dude. You do that and I’m gonna head down for some Thai. It’s 11.30pm here so I’m hungry.”

Rocko enjoyed living in Kuala Lumpur, a vibrant cosmopolitan city with a 24-hour vibe that in recent years had seen a plethora of excellent restaurants begin, none more popular to both of them than the Your Elephant Thai restaurant run by the beautiful Lotus Flower, now more of a sister to Rocko, much to David’s relief. He really did like that place.

“OK, ciao brother – watch the fish cakes – they are dynamite.”

David signed off, then sent an email to Stacey. He was a little tired himself and it was 5.30pm in Kos. The town was just starting to liven up for the evening. He decided coffee wasn’t the best thing for him. His body was tired from climbing around the Asclepius all day, yet his
mind was buzzing from the coffee, ouzo and vibrant discussion with the professor.

David loved how he asked questions. They seemed to open the greatest doors for all the answers he sought. His question to the professor who was about to go on his way after being told David didn’t smoke was: “If you could find anything at the Asclepius that would make your hair stand on end – what would it be?” That question had the professor stop dead in his tracks and just stare at David before answering: “The flower of life – a key to the Minoan Wisdom.”

“Bingo,” David had thought and followed up with: “I’ve studied sacred geometry – mind if I tag along?”

Nothing had been found at the Asclepius relating to the Minoans. The Professor had expected that. The end of the Minoan empire was 1,000 years before, but he was looking at where the healing wisdom had come from. In his views it was very similar to that he had seen in frescoes on Crete. David himself had been studying the healing work of Hippocrates, the founder of the Asclepius.

Before going to bed David decided to do some of his own research. He flicked off his Skype and email so as not to be disturbed and opened Google, typing in Minoans at Lake Superior. He went to video on You Tube, yet it wasn’t the Minoans that caught his interest on the History channel. It was a video on the side all about something called ‘the hooked X’. David knew when he got a buzz by a new topic he didn’t know about that he was due to get involved in some whole new research trail. Most of these led nowhere of course and ended up being less that interesting. Yet there was something about this ‘hooked X’ that caught his fancy. He clicked play.

2

Rocko Rizotto was nearly drooling in the cab on the way to Your Elephant. He loved Thai food. In fact he loved food. Maybe it was his Jersey upbringing where it wasn’t exactly easy to get a meal, fighting with his older brothers. But then again he had left home at fourteen so he couldn’t blame that. It was more likely that he was even named after a food, although the token ‘z’ in his name had been added later.

In anyone’s eyes Rocko should be on the street. Leaving home at fourteen and skipping school, he soon became a landlord. Looking older than his age he convinced a landlord owner to rent him a dilapidated old townhouse – one of those places in Jersey that was a semi-detached two-storey job, dating back to the First World War. The place was a wreck. Rocko got a friend
in and together they made it look presentable in under a week. Before his second rent payment was due he had advertised space in the home and had seven live-in guests all paying him $33 a week for a spot to sleep (he had purchased some beds from the Salvation Army store with their down-payments) and after paying the $115 a week rent Rocko was well in profit, although he did have to occasionally ‘extract’ the rent from an unwilling tenant, which is where he learnt his ability to street fight.

In fact Rocko loved to fight. A clear ten years younger than his buddy David, Rocko was built to take hits. He was tough, but loved life and lived it to the maximum. His days as a property baron had led him to greater things, bigger investments, buying his first home at seventeen, having forged his father’s signature on all the guarantees. He even went back to school at night and by age twenty-one had an MBA and a Masters in Commerce and Banking, being accepted for the prestigious banking internship offered by the most significant bank on the planet, which saw him located in Eastern Europe, the Middle East and Asia. At thirty he was the youngest general manager the bank had, specialising in government lending and convertible notes. Essentially he was one of the youngest economic hitmen on Earth. At thirty he had it all – money, women, and success – so Rocko being Rocko closed that door and started re-inventing himself. It was at one of those seminars just a few weeks after leaving the bank he had met David. They hit it off immediately.

The cab pulled up in front of Your Elephant Thai restaurant and Rocko flicked the driver the twenty ringgit, including a five-ringgit tip. He hauled his stout five foot eight, 96-kilogram tank frame out of the cab and saw his dinner date sitting at a table in the window.

He had known Leon from the start of his banking days. Although over ten years older than Rocko, he had reported to the squat New Yorker. Leon was from Buffalo, New York so they struck up a friendship when they found themselves together in Warsaw many years ago. Rocko was proud of Leon. At six foot two and an incredibly genuine human being, Leon had found his rise in the seven years since Rocko’s resignation quite wild, even by his own standards. He was now the
Senior Vice President of all of the bank’s activities, recently appointed, and next in line for the big job.

It was almost a chorus that went up from waiters and other regular staff as Rocko entered. The place was pumping as usual and he certainly felt part of the furniture and wondered for a second if that was a good thing. Lotus Flower was where she always was; with the fun customers, wine glass in hand. Seeing Rocko she excused herself and ran over to him, all but leaping on him but planting a firm, warm, wet kiss on his lips. Rocko smiled and they hugged almost in a dance.

“I knew you were coming Rocko, I had the kitchen prepare all your favourites,” smiled Lotus in a way that said – ‘I love you, my friend’.

“I think the cab driver had to wipe the seat, I was drooling so much in the cab. David says Hi, I was just chatting to him.” Rocko thought of beautiful Lotus as part of his family, although he occasionally thought other things that would be improper if they were actually family.

“Where is that man now?”

“Greece.”

“You boys and your weird quests. You certainly do get around. Anyway, your guest arrived a while ago. He’s already had two wines. He looks nervous. Does he owe you money?”

Rocko noticed Leon and Lotus Flower was right. He was positively sweating and the air conditioning at Your Elephant was as good as the food. Rocko gave Lotus a hug and went over and shook hands with Leon, eyeballing him.

“What’s up, buddy? You sounded like crap on the phone and you look like there’s a T-Rex after you.” Rocko didn’t shift his gaze from Leon as he sat down.

Leon shuffled on his seat and adjusted his napkin several times. He went to speak but the waiters were already there with the first courses. Of course there were the stunning Thai fish cakes (secret ingredient sweet mussel), a stunning fish salad with hot basil and flame-grilled chicken on a stick with a coconut sauce that just melted in your mouth.
Rocko seeing Leon’s nerves simply poured himself a wine and picked up a chicken skewer as if nothing was amiss.

“Rocko?” Leon said whispering as he pretended to dab his mouth with a napkin. “Are we being watched?”

Rocko put down his fork. This already was an unusual thing in Your Elephant. He could almost hear the collective gasp of the restaurant’s waiters.

Looking straight into Leon’s eyes he said:

“Ok – no more BS. What’s up?”

Just as Leon was about to open his mouth a camera flash behind Rocko went off. Rocko immediately stood and turned around and marched over to the table where sitting by himself was a young Malay man. Rocko was always aware of his surroundings and he had noticed this man immediately following Lotus Flower’s telling him that his friend seemed nervous.

“Show me that photo… Now.”

Whilst people in the restaurant were aware of Rocko shifting to another table, where he had sat down opposite the man no one felt the intensity of the demand except the young Malay. At a little over twenty years old and obviously not suited to counter surveillance work he had stupidly not checked the flash to ensure it was off and by now the bead of sweat forming on his forehead was unlikely coming from the heat of the spice.

“I don’t know what you mean, Sir… I just was taking a photo of my food.”

Rocko leant forward knowing the man would see the size of his shoulders and gave his best Jersey detective voice.

“I’m pretty sure you do have a photo of food. Chicken Skewer exactly, going right into my mouth. Your choice. Easy way or hard way. Hard way is more fun, but it sure hurts.” Rocko had picked up a fork off the table and knew the photographer was imagining it imbedded in his own forehead. Now starting to shake he handed over a Samsung Galaxy.

“Not a bad phone – better cameras than the iPhone. I might keep
it.” Rocko flicked to the photos and noticed one clear photo, beautifully framed was the back of his head, half a chicken skewer seemingly heading inward and part of Leon’s head. It was a close up.

“Who are you working for and maybe you should stay in the stationary department. This shot is so bad, I’m going to let you keep it.” Smiling, Rocko threw the phone over to the cameraman. Fumbling, the cameraman opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out.

“Yes… go on.”

“I, I, I,” stammered the cameraman

“I don’t know them. I’m just a student. I got paid by a man five hundred ringgit, to get a shot of who was going to be meeting that man.” Nodding his head to Leon’s direction. “He told me it was a joke and that a group of them thought he was gay and these friends were trying to play a little practical joke to see which man he was with tonight.”

Believing him instantly, Rocko leaned forward to him.

“So you got the five hundred up front?” The photographer nodded. “And you will have an SMS number to send it to?” Another nod. “Then I suggest you do just that, then you can leave. But not before you pay my bill for ruining my night and scaring my friend…” Rocko made a limp wristed shake toward Leon who nearly dived into his food in embarrassment.

“Yes, Sir.”

“Now go… get out of here so I can enjoy my food.” He called to Lotus: “This nice man is paying for our meals.” Lotus Flower nodded and sent a waiter scampering over with the check. Rocko got up from the table and turned.

“Sir,” the now sheepish photographer called out after him. Rocko turned back. “Do you want their number?”

“Oh I suppose you should give it to me. Not that it will go anywhere.” Knowing it would be a throwaway phone Rocko couldn’t be bothered, but knowing David would ask he decided to avoid the inevitable lecture.

Rocko sat back down at Leon’s table, watching the photographer pay out a good two hundred of his five hundred takings and leave hurriedly.

Leon looked at Rocko and with trouble all over his face said:

“Rocko, they are after me for sure. Quick let’s go. This is terrible.”

Rocko tucking his napkin into his shirtfront and picking up his wine replied:

“Ahh, here comes the main course – yum, a duck green curry, sizzling beef platter and the vegetable specialty. Eat up my old pal, then we’ll go get a beer and you can tell Uncle Rocko all about it.”

And with that he rubbed his hands together in voluptuous rapture at the delights that had arrived.

3

David still had the habit of waking up early and flicking his laptop on. Mostly he regretted it. The email box was full of minutes of various board meetings of his and Rocko’s companies, directions sought from the CEOs and generally a problem or two, which he knew others could solve yet they still felt like involving him. Rocko was much more immune to this behaviour by simply not engaging with such emails and rarely even responding, although he always seemed informed and on top of things.

David had stayed up late doing his own research on the hooked X, yet he had forgotten to tell Stacey he had changed tack. Being on the other side of the world Stacey had around seven hours to get up to speed and she had
spent all day working on the Minoans. She was one of these people who seemed to love diving into the detail, yet she managed to keep things straightforward and provided links to more in-depth material if the boys wanted it. She was proud of what she did and felt a valuable member of the team, even though like today David would often just say thanks and start a new line of research.

She in fact had what was mostly a great home job, balancing the needs of her two rapidly growing sons with the passion for staying up late and getting up early to get the job done. Blonde, petite and alluring she had often fallen for the wrong man finding herself wasting time and in a constant state of disappointment. Rocko and David, whist wanting the best for her, secretly hoped this situation would maintain itself as they loved the way she worked and her output was even higher when coming out of a relationship.