by T. J. Hunter
Chapter 2
The long flight to Puno Peru gave me plenty of time to think about when Manco and I were undergraduate students. Manco attended the university on a full scholarship while I delivered pizza at night and worked at various university jobs to help fund my education. He was the pragmatist and I the dreamer. I guess this is why I choose archeology so that I could live out my dreams by traveling to the many wonders of the world.
Manco returned to Peru after graduating and became an expert in Central and South American history while I accepted an associate professorship position. We were best friends in our college days, and still can count on each other despite living far apart.
As the plane rolled to a stop on the tarmac, I saw Manco. He was wearing a light colored suit and fedora trimmed with black ribbon. Good old Manco. He looked good, much like he did that last time I saw him ten years ago. You know how some people always make you feel good to be around? Well, that’s the kind of person Manco is, and no matter who you were, or what station in life you had, he always made you feel important.
When I disembarked from the plane, Manco began waving his fedora above his head, as if I might miss him. I found this amusing since he was easy to spot from the waiting crowd totaling all of four people.
“Greetings dear friend, welcome to my country,” he said with his arms stretched high above his head.
“Hello Manco. It’s great to see you again,” I said, then we embraced each other as good friends do.
A few feet away stood a woman with children and Manco turned to them and smiled.
“Willington, this is Wanita, my wife, and these are my children. And this Wanita is my dearest friend Jonathan Willington.”
“Wife and children? When did all this happen?”
“You have not visited for some time Willington, and as you can see, much has changed,” he said, then let out a big laugh while wrapping his arm around my shoulder. “Come, tonight you will feast on the finest Peruvian delicacies and be a quest at my home. After a full belly, good conversation, some tequila, and a restful sleep, we will go to the Gate of the gods. For what reason you want to go there, I can’t imagine, but it is your wish, so we will go.”
Manco led me to his Jeep where his wife and children had already piled into the back so I could sit in front.
“Just you wait Manco. I think I am onto something really big.”
“Big you say … good for you … maybe good for me too.”
It was a short ride to Manco’s house from Puno and the scenery looked much the same as it did when I last visited. The dirt road was pocked with holes and cactus were blooming vivid colors of red, yellow, and white. Ahead I could see grassy hills and every now and then some local wildlife. I had forgotten the natural beauty of this country. Manco was right. Ten years was too long of an absence from such a beautiful place, and certainly too long for us to have a reunion.
We arrived at Manco’s house quicker than I expected. Upon entering, I stood quietly and looked around at what was a very clean and domestic interior. My surprise must have been easy to notice because Manco smiled and slapped me on the back.
“Ha, not the same place you remembered from your last visit, hey Willington?”
“Things do look quite different now,” I said, looking at native weavings, carved dolls and animals, and handmade wooden furniture neatly placed as his home decor, not to mention a lack of empty tequila bottles that use to litter his floor.
“Family life suits you well Manco, and the touch of a beautiful woman has turned your hole in the wall into a real home.”
Manco laughed and Wanita smiled showing she was happy to hear my compliment and seeing her husband so proud of his home.
“I suppose it seems a bit alien to you my friend, being a lab rat at a Harvard. What can I say? Being married and having children can change even the most stubborn of us,” he said, then cuffed his hand near his mouth and muttered, “to tell you the truth Willington, I do miss my tools and antiquities that once adorned this humble place.”
I nodded in agreement, then we laughed and slapped each other backs like we use to do after completing research projects at Harvard.
“It’s good to see you again Manco. Really good.”
“Yes, just like old times Willington,” he said and opened a door. “Here is your room my friend. Put your things over there next to the bed and Wanita will prepare a nice hot bath for you. Soon, dinner will be ready, and after dinner, we drink tequila, tell stories, and when our eyes are too heavy to keep open, we shall sleep. At sunrise, may it not come too quickly, we shall go to the Gates of the gods.”
Manco let out another loud laugh as he closed my bedroom door and began chasing his kids pretending to be a bear. The children were laughing and shouting, “No bear can catch us. We are too fast.” For a moment, I felt a little old having no family, except for Sally, who I suppose is my family.
I actually have no memory of my biological parents and only vague memories of being raised in foster homes. I was told my parents died in an automobile crash when I was 12, which caused a form of amnesia. My childhood became less relevant once I became a student at Harvard. Burying my head in books all day and delivering pizza at night didn’t leave much time for thinking about my past.
“Señor Willington, your bath is ready,” Wanita said. “Come now while it is still hot. Dinner will be ready soon Señor.”
“Please, call me Jonathan, and thank you Wanita for being so hospitable.”
“You are most welcome Señor Willington … I mean Jonathan.”
The bathtub in the center of room was larger than I expected and made out of copper sheets banged together in artistic fashion. Its edges were adorned with cactus, suns, moons, birds and various other things one would find in a desert wilderness. There was no plumbing, except for a single pipe exiting from the bottom of the tub to a small metal grate in the floor.
The bathwater was hot, but not so hot for me to step in, albeit I had to do so slowly. I got myself into a comfortable position and closed my eyes while listening to music playing in the living room. The smell of fine home cooking kept me from falling asleep, but just barely.
“Willington, did you drown in that tub?” Manco asked. “It is time to eat dinner my friend and taste the delicacies of my country.”
I was already drying myself off when Manco told me dinner was ready. Perhaps I overstayed my time enjoying a hot bath, but I felt so refreshed that there was little room for feeling guilty.
“Be right there,” I said.
When I came out from the bath, everyone was sitting quietly at the dinner table waiting for me to join. I sat in the empty seat next to Manco and gazed at a feast of vegetables and meats that nearly made me drool with anticipation. Manco made a couple of grunts like he was clearing his throat. I looked at him and saw he was holding out his hand to me as was Juan, his eldest son sitting at my other side. Everyone was holding hands, except me.
“We will thank God for our many blessings,” Manco said, wiggling his fingers at me as a gesture to hold hands.
I placed joined hands with Manco and his son while Manco thanked God for a wonderful life, family, food, and the company of an old friend. Once the prayer was done, food began being passed around the table in an amazing orderly fashion, especially given such young hungry children. The food was incredibly delicious and I ate enough for three full grown men. It was the best food I’ve had for a very long time.
After dinner, Wanita got the older children settled down in their bedrooms and put the youngest in bed to sleep. Manco and I sat at a table next to a warm crackling fire and drank tequila and smoked cigars.
“Life is good, hey old friend?” Manco asked.
“Sitting here in your home, I’d have to agree with you Manco. I doubt it could get any better than this.”
After a few minutes of staring into the fire and making smoke rings from our cigars, Manco looked at me with a familiar and curious archeology demeanor. He had held back
his curiosity since my arrival, which surprised me given what he already knew about the nature of my visit. It was time to get down to business.
“Tell me all about this stone of yours and what you expect to find at the Gates of the gods.”
“Manco, you won’t believe it. The artifact has two different carbon dates.”
“Two different carbon dates you say. How is that possible on a single stone?”
“That’s just it Manco, it shouldn’t be possible” I said, then took the artifact out of my backpack to show him.
“Look, it’s as though there were three stones made into one. There are no lines or indication of breaks anywhere. It’s solid, has no magnetic characteristics, and weighs almost nothing. Here, let me show you,” I said, placing the artifact onto Manco’s palm and moving it slowly to the left, then to the right. “See Manco, there is no feeling of weight displacement when the stone is moved. Have you ever seen anything like this before?”
Manco didn’t need to reply because the expression on his face said it all. He moved the stone side to side and extended it out horizontally.
“Remarkable … never in my life have I seen such a thing,” he said and narrowed his eyes to inspect the artifact more closely. “Some of these etchings are Mayan.”
“Yes, but these other etchings are something I have not seen before. It does not appear to be from any language on record, and look, there’s more Manco.”
I took the x-ray pictures out of my backpack and handed them to Manco.
“Look here, a pentagram with strange etches along the sides and ends,” I said, pointing to a drawing, then to numbers on the ends.
I explained how the numbers appeared to be a map location for the Gate of the gods. Manco’s eyes shifted back and forth from the artifact to the picture.
“Remarkable. Simply remarkable,” he said, narrowing his eyes as though not believing what he was seeing.
“What puzzles me Manco is that I doubt any modern day technology could have made this stone, never mind thousands of years ago, and why was it discovered now sticking out of the sand in an Egyptian desert? It should have been buried deep in the desert after all these years. It just doesn’t make any sense.”
“Willington, do you really believe this stone has something to do with the Gates of the gods?”
“I think it might be a code of some sort. Perhaps as the legends say, the gate is a portal to another dimension or world not of this Earth.”
Manco looked at me very seriously for a moment and then laughed.
“Good, then you go to the gate first and I’ll wait here.”
We laughed some more and then reminded ourselves how important the artifact might be if evidence could be found linking it to the Gate of the gods. Tomorrow the artifact will be placed into the gate’s hole and hopefully bring us one step closer to solving the mystery.
Manco looked tense. “Who will place the stone into the gate?”
I grinned. “Don’t worry Manco, I’ll do it.”
“Okay, if you insist my friend,” he said and then relaxed while lighting up another cigar.
After Manco’s children were all tucked away in their beds, Wanita came out and joined us by the fireside. She smiled, gave Manco a kiss on his check, and began knitting.
“It is a scarf for Juan to keep him warm,” she said. “The night will become cold in a few weeks.”
I smiled. “It’s a nice scarf. Your son will be proud to wear it.”
Manco began telling stories from Mayan history. As is the case with any archeological conversation, various interpretations of how and why the Mayan calendar was created took us into late evening. Wanita excused herself and wished us a good night and told Manco not to stay up much longer. Not long after, Manco and I finally exhausted our theoretical interpretations and went to our rooms to sleep.
When morning arrived, rosters let everyone know sleep time was over. I opened my eyes and saw Manco’s two youngest children at the foot of my bed staring at me.
“Good morning,” I said while rubbing and blinking my eyes.
With big smiles and giggles, the children replied in a cappella, “Good morning Señor Willington,” and scooted out of my room shouting “He is awake, Señor Willington is awake.”
“It’s about time. I swear Willington, working at the university has weakened your sense of adventure. Come on man, let’s get moving before the sun is gone.”
“Gone, it still looks dark outside to me,” I said, pointing to the bedroom window.
Manco opened the bedroom room door wider, extended his arms in the air, and said in a loud voice with a big smile, “Let us go to the Gate of the gods.”
I asked Manco, sarcastically, why he let me sleep so long if he was anxious for adventure. Manco raised his eyebrows and his smile faded.
“Me … you say I let you sleep,” he said and left the room muttering something in Spanish. “Come on Willington, breakfast is ready and my Jeep is packed. The adventure you seek is waiting for us at the Gate of the gods.”
Manco’s enthusiasm made me smile and wake up enough to get out of bed. I looked toward the bedroom window again while buttoning my shirt and saw a roster on the windowsill staring at me.
“What are you looking at? Are you the one who woke everyone up?”
The rooster turned his backside to me, hopped off the windowsill, and made a long noisy crow – just to tick me off. As I exited my room, I saw Manco packing up the last few things into his Jeep. Wanita smiled and told me to take care of her husband and not be gone too long. I promised to do as she instructed and went outside. The sun was now rising from the eastern horizon causing the night chill to fade quickly. It was going to be a great day.
Juan, the oldest boy, was in the back of the Jeep sitting on duffle bags.
“Look Willington, my son Juan is the next archeologist in the family.”
Juan smiled and stiffened his posture, showing pleasure in his father’s approval. He was lucky to have a father like Manco who understood the wonder of discovery. Not many children have the opportunity to learn about past civilizations from a renowned expert.
“This is my first adventure Señor Willington,” Juan said. “You and papa must teach me everything.”
Manco paused before sitting in the Jeep and looked at me with a big smile, then looked back at Juan.
“Everything you say? That is a tall order my son, but we will teach you at least something today.”
The drive to the Gate of the gods took about two hours on a poorly maintained road. All the bouncing around was enough to make me consider walking, but I survived and we reached our destination. Manco stopped the Jeep at the top a hill overlooking a mountainside.
“There is the Gate of the gods,” Manco said, pointing toward the Gate’s arch a few hundred feet away.
Until now, I had only seen the Gate of the gods in pictures presented in National Geographic magazines. It was less impressive and seemed smaller than what I expected. A few moment later, Manco started driving again and stopped about 20 feet in front of the arch.
Juan stayed in the Jeep while Manco and I started walking to the gate, but Manco stopped after a taking a few steps. I guess he was a little spooked about the artifact and what might happen when it came into contact with the gate. Me on the other hand, I couldn’t wait to see what happened.
“What now?” Manco asked.
“Now we see if the artifact is a key or a hole filler.”
“We?” asked Manco.
“Wait here. I’ll check it out.”
“Well, if you insist. I’ll wait here as you say,” he said, then took several steps back towards the Jeep.
I took the artifact out of my backpack and moved it near the outside edge of the hole – it looked like a perfect fit. After brushing away some loose dirt, I moved the artifact closer and felt an electrical field, like the one at the dig site in Egypt. Before I could react, the artifact jumped out of my hand into the hole. A moment later I felt a vibrat
ion and the static field intensified. I stepped back a few feet and kept my eyes fixed on the artifact, fascinated by what I just saw.
“Okay, it’s not a hole filler,” I muttered.
“Willington, perhaps you should not stand so close,” Manco said. “Something is not right here and we should leave this place.”
My wrist watch then flew off my hand and stuck to the stone gate. A moment later, the Jeep began moving slowly toward the gate, its wheels locked and digging into the dirt. Manco’s mouth dropped open and he quickly stepped out of the Jeeps way. Juan jumped out of the Jeep and fell to the ground.
“What sorcery is this?” Manco asked, then his metal medallion rose from under his shirt and pointed horizontally to the gate. He pulled the medallion down, but when he let go, it snapped back toward the gate and pulled the chain around his neck, enough so that Manco put his foot forward to keep from falling.
As quickly as everything began, it was over. My watch fell to the ground, Manco’s medallion fell to his chest, and the Jeep stopped moving. The three of us stared at the gate dumfounded by the experience, which was not yet over. The artifact began to turn clockwise for a few turns and then counterclockwise. The back and forth movement continued, increasing in speed, while a blue-white light on the tip of the artifact glowed brighter with each rotation.
“Willington … we should go now,” Manco said as he and Juan got back into the Jeep.
The ground around us began to shake causing me to sway. I extended my arms to balance myself and Manco held both of his hand tight on the Jeep’s wheel.
“What the heck.” I said and a second later the artifact stopped turning, but the light emitting from the gate intensified so brightly I had to cover my eyes. I took a few more steps backwards and a bolt of light shot out from the gate hitting me square center on my chest. There was no sound and I felt no pain. I brushed my hand against my chest thinking I might be on fire, but there was nothing. No marks, burns, not so much as a wrinkle. The artifact then fell to the ground and Manco ran to me thinking I was injured.
“Willington, are you alright?”
“I’m okay Manco,” I answered and started walking to where the artifact fell.
As I got closer, I could see it was no longer a stone, but had turned translucent like glass. The gate looked as it did before, except a larger opening appeared and revealed something inside.
“What just happened?” Manco asked while staring at the new opening, noticing something was inside it. “Willington, what in the world are those things?”
Three metal tubes with elaborate etchings and artwork were resting inside the gates opening. I removed the tubes and found three ancient scrolls inside each that measured eight inches square. I put the scrolls back inside the tubes and handed them to Manco.
“First things first Manco,” I said and turned my attention back to the artifact, which was not only translucent, but also had many more etched symbols than before.
I rotated the artifact and saw that the etchings covered its surface in a spiral pattern. There was no visible beginning or end to the pattern and it had multiple layers on the inside that were too small to distinguish. As strange as it might sound, the artifact felt familiar in someway, like when almost remembering a dream just before it vanishes from memory.
“Manco, those tubes you’re holding were designed to preserve the scrolls inside the gate and this artifact is obviously a key. I’ve never seen anything like it and doubt anyone on this planet besides us has either.”
“Nothing that has happened here today is natural Willington. Many believe these mountains are cursed, and after all this, I am inclined to agree.”
I smiled. “Many people also believe it is blessed. This all means something Manco. It’s as if the artifact and scrolls were waiting for us to find them after being hidden for thousands of years. Whatever they are, there might very well be a connection to King Solomon’s Key.”
Manco’s eyes widened as he began to understand the possible significance of what we found.
“Let’s get back to Puno,” I said excitedly. ”We have much work to do Manco.”
