Grange looked up from his musing and was surprised to see Ramsey sitting across from him at the breakfast table. “These are good,” he said.
“They came to me in one of those information dumps in the middle of the night.”
“I really like this one.” Grange pointed to the buddy system paragraph.
Ramsey was pleased with Grange’s grasping the most important point. “It gets at the crux of Blue Island’s problem. As Albert Einstein said, ‘Problems cannot be solved with the same mind set that created them.’”
Grange replied, “I get it. By always focusing on trying to fix what’s wrong, nothing ever moves forward. It’s what I call the liberals’ blind spot. And then there’s the old conservative bullshit that these people are unfixable and it’s their own damn fault.”
Ramsey nodded in agreement. “I don’t know why I didn’t see this before.” He paused for a thoughtful moment. “Maybe it’s the Milagro Shrine’s power working through me?”
“What?”
“I’ll tell you later. It’s so clear to me that people need to shift away from concentrating on fixing their flaws and instead focus on developing new strengths. It’s so simple.”
“Simple, but hard to do.”
“It shouldn’t be. That’s when it came to me.”
“Okay. Go on.”
“What’s missing are social fields, shared spiritual values that can hold a space for positive development.”
Grange’s eyes narrowed. “How you gonna make that happen? Have Jesus appear?”
Ramsey leaned back with a wry smile on his lips. “Something like that.”
Grange’s mouth formed a little “o.” Ramsey leaned back in his chair and waited. One thing about his partner, the man never belittled an idea. He always listened, took it in, turned it over, and more often than not added something to it that made it better than the original. This time was no different.
Grange nodded, a smile crossing his broad face. “I see where you’re going. The place where the kid was shot. Turn it into a sacred place, right?”
“Bingo.”
“You’ll need a buy in from the community and I don’t mean the elders. Those gang kids would be perfect. Do you have an idea how to get them on board?”
“I’ll take a couple of them down to Rio Chama, New Mexico. The young woman Maggie would be perfect.”
Ron nodded thoughtfully. “That shrine . . . it turned out to be something a lot different than you thought it was going to be, huh?’
“It’s not just a place for healing. It’s . . . it’s transformative.” A frown came over Ramsey’s face.
Grange noticed. “What’s the matter?”
“Still missing an important piece of what’s going on there. And I just realized, I’ve been missing it since the day I got interested in sacred places.”
April 10, 2016
Grinnell, Iowa
It had been two days since Ramsey returned from Blue Island. During each of those days his thoughts hovered around his experiences at Rio Chama and the fate of Adam. The shrine was calling him back figuratively and literally. Before he did anything, though, he had one thing to do first. He drew in a sharp breath. He wasn’t looking forward to it, but he had to find out something crucial from his mentor Orensen.
It was Saturday morning. Ramsey set his Earl Grey tea aside and turned on his computer. Bringing up the Grinnell college athletic departments webpage, he checked the listings of events. Grinnell was hosting the final men’s swim meet of the season against archrival Carleton College. Ramsey knew Roger Orensen would be there. The professor emeritus religiously attended every meet as the psychological and spiritual coach for the athletes.
Ramsey arrived at the natatorium halfway through the meet. The air inside was humid and hot and smelled heavily of chlorine. Spectators occupied bleachers along the far wall beneath a banner proclaiming “Go Grinnell Pioneers.” The two swimming teams clustered at the far end of the pool on either side of twin diving boards.
The room was deathly quiet and Ramsey wondered if some athlete had been injured. Then he saw that the diving competition was in full swing with the audience silently watching every performer and politely clapping at the end of each dive.
Ramsey looked for Orensen in his usual spot on the Pioneers’ bench beside the head coach. He started in surprise. The space was empty. He scanned the crowd and saw Orensen talking to middle-aged woman. Pointing to the next diver, she bowed her head and Ramsey could see her body shake in silent sobs. Orensen bent beside her and whispered in her ear. The woman suddenly stopped crying and wiping her tears away watched the young man stepping out onto the end of the diving board. She waved. He smiled and then turned around, his body rigid in concentration as he prepared for his next dive.
Orensen leaned back against the bleacher behind him. As he did, a different woman came into view on his other side. Ramsey strained to make her out. There was something about her that was deeply familiar. A chill ran through his body. It was Paige. At that moment Orensen spotted Ramsey and gestured for him to come over.
April 10, 2016
Rio Chama, New Mexico
Myriam got up, confrontation burning on her mind. For the past few days she and Hiram, using his connections, had looked deeply into the shrine’s ownership and finances. To their surprise they uncovered that the board controlling the Friends of Rio de Milagro Shrine turned out to be a sham. The ownership of the property had been transferred four years earlier to a holding company in South Africa. The agent for the holding company was Raphael Núnez. A bank in Santa Fe had set up a trust to operate the finances of the shrine while maintaining the appearance of a nonprofit organization.
Myriam felt particularly humiliated and angry. She sat on the board and a year ago she had convinced Hiram to ask for a seat as well.
A board meeting was planned for 5 o’clock this afternoon. Raphael Núnez would be there, and so would Father Michael. Both men would have to answer some questions. But before that, Myriam and Hiram needed to do something important. It was Rosa’s last day at the Rio Chama Café.
Myriam and Hiram pulled up to the Café. Their usual parking place as well as two others on either side of it had been taken over by an early model Winnebago painted green, yellow, and red. They had to find a spot down the street in front of the hotel.
The restaurant was decked out for a party. Rosa’s cousin and his wife and their children and about thirty other family members Myriam didn’t recognize swarmed to greet them.
“Thank you for coming,” Rosa said, hugging Myriam. “I was afraid you wouldn’t be able to make it.”
“Almost didn’t. Had to park way down the street,” said Hiram. He hooked a thumb at the Winnebago. “Whose heap of junk is that anyway?”
Rosa reddened slightly. A booming voice from the back of the room cut through the chatter. “That would be my heap of junk and I think you should apologize for hurting her feelings.”
Myriam turned at the familiar voice. “Pete!” she exclaimed. The tall, lanky redhead came over grinning. They hugged briefly and he shook Hiram’s hand. “She doesn’t look like much on the outside, but if you have a few minutes I’ll give you the nickel tour—microwave satellite antenna, solar powered nickel hydride batteries, sonic shower, Tempurpedic bed, MacPherson struts, a fold-out galley with a convection oven, and a hybrid engine that purrs like a Rolls Royce. It’ll make touring the U.S. like being in a five star hotel every night.”
“You’re leaving?” asked Myriam.
“We’re leaving,” answered Rosa. She held up her hand and showed an engagement ring. “Pete proposed last night.”
Hiram asked, “Where did you find the money for that ring?”
“I sold the Café and Pete—”
“I traded in my trusty 1958 Nash Rambler, Nellie Bell, and I had a few extra dollars stashed from working for the South Africans. I figure I won’t be seeing them again and I’m no longer needed around these parts. So it’s off we go.”
>
“We’re going wherever wind and whimsy take us,” added Rosa.
April 10, 2016
Grinnell, Iowa
Ramsey left the swimming meet and strode toward his car. The winds had picked up. A spring storm was on its way. What a strange twist of fate, he thought. Some of the old longing for Paige had cropped up, but he also felt a lot of distance from her, a chasm too far to cross. Thinking back on the encounter, suspicion dominated his thoughts and he wondered if her arrival was more than coincidence.
Ramsey had joined Orensen and Paige beside the swimming pool. It had been awkward seeing her and his misgivings must have been plain for her and Orensen to see. The Professor Emeritus had tried to allay Ramsey’s suspicions. It was the first time Ramsey had ever seen the man do anything badly. Paige had left saying she’d meet up with them later. While watching the rest of the diving competition, Orensen had explained he was hoping to recruit Paige to join the faculty in the college’s religious studies department.
“Her career slid downhill after her PhD and she ended up at UC Riverside because it was the only place where she and her former husband could both find academic positions. They divorced a couple of years ago and she’s on sabbatical looking for something new. Wants to escape Southern California.”
“How do you know her?” Ramsey had asked.
“You don’t remember? I met her when you brought her for your fifth year reunion here at Grinnell. We’ve stayed in touch over the years.” He chuckled. “After all, we’re both stuck in the moribund field of classical religious studies.”
“Is she still into that new age Christian thing?” Ramsey asked. “That was a large part of our break up.”
“She’s matured a lot since then. We’re getting together at my place this afternoon. You should join us and see for yourself.”
“Old times best forgotten,” Ramsey had said.
“New times to be remembered later,” Orensen had answered quietly.
Ramsey had agreed to meet them, but now he was no longer sure if he should.
What he really needed was time to think. He took a circuitous route to Orensen’s home. The rain pelted down the whole way adding to his sense of unease. He mulled over how, ever since he had received the call from Myriam about the shrine, events had never unfolded the way he had hoped or thought they would. And now Paige.
He turned the corner onto Orensen’s street and slowed down to a crawl, stopping his car two doors down from the professor’s home. He saw Paige sitting in a large wicker chair beneath the wide front porch’s overhang. The Craftsman-style home had belonged to Grinnell College’s founder. Rainwater rushed down in sheets from the roof’s cedar shingles, spilling over the overhang like a curtain separating Ramsey from Paige. She was no longer the cheery, bouncy flower child he had fallen in love with and who had left him that day in Eugene. She had put on weight and there were more than a few gray hairs. The one time their eyes had met during the swim meet he quickly looked away.
Now seeing at her at a distance, an uncanny warmth swept through him. As thunder shook his car, Ramsey felt a strange urge to tell her everything, seek her out-of-the-box way of looking at things as he once had done when as lovers they shared secrets and dreams. A strange notion swirled unbidden through his thoughts. Maybe . . . maybe we can rekindle what was once there. With a start, Ramsey realized he had never stopped longing for her. He had merely placed his work between him and the past. But as quickly as that idea emerged, a darker realization elbowed it aside.
Once more he wondered if her unexpected arrival in Grinnell might be another manipulation by the people or forces that had put in motion his search for Adam Gwillt. He gathered himself together. Now was not the time to give in to paranoia.
Putting the car in gear, he turned into Orensen’s driveway. The rain let up and a pale sun peeked through the clouds. With the warm sunlight, Ramsey resolved to be on his best behavior and charm the information he sought out his old mentor.
April 10, 2016
Grinnell, Iowa
Orensen joined Paige and Ramsey on the front porch with a tray, three cups and a steaming pot of tea. “Thought we should have tea outside today,” the old man said with a twinkle as if everything was fine between them.
“Inside still cluttered with artifacts and religious relics gathering dust in shadowy corners?” said Ramsey, forcing a flash of irritation with his old mentor into a narrow compartment of his mind. He couldn’t afford to alienate him with pettiness. Not when he needed answers. He had to uncover Orensen’s involvement with the shrine, Adam Gwillt, the New Gnostics, and the South Africans. He cautioned himself to go lightly—the way he would with any interviewee.
Orensen laughed. “You haven’t been here since your return from New Mexico. I’m in the process of donating my entire collection to Falconer Gallery.” Ramsey arched his eyebrows. “There are changes afoot in my future and I don’t need them anymore. Though,” the old professor smiled wanly, “the house is lonely without them.”
The three sat around a glass table facing the street. The maple trees were leafing out and the grass, brown and dormant over the winter, glinted dark green under the rain. The road was as quiet as church. Even the neighbors seemed to be aware this meeting was more than three old friends getting together.
“I’m sorry, Jon. I should have called, but I wasn’t sure you’d want to see me after, well, after Oregon.” Paige was the only one who called him Jon. “Professor Orensen filled me in on New Mexico, sounds like something you’d want to do.”
Orensen chuckled. “Call me Roger. We’re all friends here.”
“I’m here, Roger, and it’s time we talk,” Ramsey said, taking great care to keep his tone upbeat.
“You have questions. I may have some answers.”
Ramsey glanced at Paige. She leaned back as if taking herself out of the conversation. It made him think she wasn’t there as a distraction but for something else. Ramsey reached into his coat pocket and pulled out his phone. He tapped a link with his finger and showed it to Orensen. It was a webpage from the Rio Chama’s newspaper telling the story of Adam’s disappearance. It showed the shrine’s sacred cottonwood tree. At the foot of the tree was Adam surrounded by three people in wheelchairs.
Pointing to the shrine’s caretaker, Ramsey asked, “You know who that is?”
The professor gave an apologetic shrug of his shoulders. “I’m sorry, Jonathan; I’ve never seen him.”
Taken aback by Orensen’s blatant deception, Ramsey’s resolve to tread lightly vanished. “Roger, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you lie so poorly,” he retorted, his voice now tight. “You know Adam Gwillt’s the source behind the shrine’s healing power.”
Paige put a hand on Ramsey’s arm. Ramsey shook her off. He’d been pushed, prodded, knocked out, tied up, dragged off, and lied to. He didn’t have to be nice to anyone. “You need to keep out of this, Paige. It’s between me and the professor . . . my old mentor.” His eyes bored into Orensen’s. “Tell me the truth, Roger. I deserve that much.”
Paige started to interrupt again, and Orensen held up a hand. “It’s okay.” The kindly eyes of his mentor disappeared and Orensen said, “You deserve the truth. There were rumors that Adam Gwillt was responsible for the healing, but the Friends of the Shrine kept it under wraps. They didn’t want a repeat of so many of these miracle spots, like the Lady of Lourdes, where worshippers come to idolize the woman and not the place.”
That’s better. Now we’re getting some straight talk for once. Ramsey shunted the rest of his anger aside. It would only get in the way of knowing when Orensen was telling the truth. “That may explain the shrine, but what about Haas and the South Africans?”
Orensen shook his head.
“The DeVere Mining Group . . . businessmen supposedly after diamonds in northern New Mexico but who were really looking for Adam Gwillt. They kidnapped me hoping to find him. It was all part of a plan to capture Adam. Their leader Haas mentioned you. Talked as thoug
h he knew you.”
“Whoever that was, he was lying,” Orensen said.
Ramsey took a breath. His suspicions about the DeVere chairman’s duplicity were confirmed. Unless Orensen’s lying to me. The seventy-five year old professor emeritus smiled and stared guilelessly. Ramsey knew he was telling the truth.
“Do you know where he is?” asked Orensen.
“Hoping you could help with that.”
The old man shrugged. “I know nothing about the South Africans or where Adam is. My involvement with the shrine and Adam has been peripheral. It’s with a group of New Gnostics here in Grinnell. There’s a meeting night. You’ll get your questions answered there.”
Ramsey grit his teeth. He didn’t like being put off, yet he could tell the professor wasn’t going to say anything more.
Orensen added, “I urge you to come to our meeting. I’ll introduce you and you can ask them what they know.”
Ramsey scowled. “You should’ve told me everything when we first talked.”
“Perhaps you’re right,” Orensen apologized. His eyes narrowed and he said slyly, “On the other hand, ask yourself, even with Peru so far in the past, would you have been ready to accept everything?”
Ramsey jerked in surprise. The professor’s words stung him in a way he couldn’t deny. He stood abruptly to leave. Paige grasped his hand in hers. “I was hoping to attend the Gnostics assembly. But if you prefer I’ll stay away.”
He shook off her hand. “Who says I’m going.”
April 10, 2016
Rio Chama, New Mexico
The Friends of the Rio de Milagro Shrine board meeting took place in the small amphitheater in the Visitor Center, where a movie depicting the story of the shrine was shown four times a day. Myriam and Hiram arrived on time. The day had turned gray and windy and the parking lot was nearly empty. Myriam recognized Carlotta’s car and the silver Tundra pickup truck that belonged to the board’s president, Raphael Núnez, owner of the largest real estate company in the county. Myriam looked at Hiram. “Looks like a small group tonight.”
The Adam Enigma Page 25
