Exotic #02 - The Hieroglyphic Staircase

by Marjorie Thelen

  Dominic.

  He had been kind and helpful. He seemed level headed and sincere. He had understood and for that she was grateful. She’d walk over to the clinic to thank him. At least it would give her something to do.

  She carried her cup to the kitchen where doña Carolita was washing dishes.

  “Gracias.”

  “But, hijita, you did not eat much.”

  “I’m sure I’ll feel better later.”

  “Maybe I should make you some soup.”

  “No, no. I’ll be fine. I’m going to walk over to the medical clinic. The man there was very kind to me this morning. I need to thank him for his trouble.”

  “You mean señor Dominic. He is a priest, they say. But I don’t know what church. It can’t be Catholic because they say he had a wife, and there was a scandal and that is why he came, to get away from all that. It has been our blessing, because he has gotten our free medical clinic built for us. It is a shame that misfortune finds such a good man.”

  “A priest?” Elena said, wondering what that could mean. “He doesn’t look very priestly.”

  Carolita smiled and dried her hands. “He is a nice looking man, isn’t he? You noticed. I can tell by your blush. You go. It would be good to take some fresh air. I think I will make you a little soup for later. You need to keep up your strength. You are too thin.”

  Elena smiled. If doña Carolita was any indication of what healthy was supposed to be, Elena had a way to go. She gave her a hug. She was, after all, a dear soul, and Elena was grateful that someone wanted to care for her.

  Outside, the sun was low in the sky. Palm trees stretched their fronds in a promising evening breeze. The clinic lay on the other side of the well-tended central plaza that lay in the middle of Copan Ruinas. The town had taken its name from its chief source of tourism – the Copan Ruins. Tourists came from all over the world to see the Florence of Mayan civilization. Elena had come, too, attracted by its art, sculpture, and hieroglyphs. But she hadn’t bargained for what had happened today, and she needed to talk it over with someone.

  Dominic being a priest surprised her. Not that she knew anything about the Catholic Church, since she wasn’t raised in any religion. Her father was a non-practicing Catholic and detested the church. Her mother pursued whatever New Age religion was popular at the moment. Elena tried not to be cynical. Science was her religion. She believed a greater power was behind the formation of the Universe and that was enough for her.

  She crossed the plaza diagonally and passed the center fountain that stood empty. The palm tree trunks were neatly trimmed, and lantana flowered in a profusion of yellow and pink. Children played jump rope on the walk, and pair of afternoon lovers sat head to head on a cement bench.

  She started down the street where the medical clinic was located and spotted the Jeep parked out front. At the door of the clinic she paused. The place was packed with villagers standing in a bunch, all of them stoically waiting.

  A motorcycle roared around the corner and screeched to a halt beside her.

  “Pretty lady,” someone shouted.

  She knew who it was without turning -- the last person on Earth she wanted to see.

  “I hear some guy got killed out at the ruins this morning,” he shouted again.

  Elena didn’t want to turn around, but she did, knowing that he would not let her escape.

  “Hello, Rolando.” She greeted him with crossed arms and a frown.

  He put the kick stand down and swung a leg over the back of the motorcycle. “I came to find you as soon as I heard. You need someone to protect you. I keep telling you, and you don’t listen to me.”

  He walked around the motorcycle and came to stand before her, blocking her way into the clinic. He ran a finger down her cheek. “Pretty lady, I missed you.”

  She hadn’t missed him, but she didn’t say it in the interest of not creating an international incident. She acknowledged him with a shrug of one shoulder.

  “Has the cat got your tongue, pretty lady? How about I take you to a nice place, and we get comfortable, and Rolando will make you feel real good. Make you forget.”

  He nuzzled her neck, but Elena pulled out of the embrace he tried to lock on her.

  “Get your hands off me,” she said. “I don’t need your help, thank you. Now if you will excuse me.”

  He blocked her path as she tried to swing around him to go into the clinic.

  “What’s the matter, pretty lady, you don’t want to be my girlfriend no more?

  “I was never your girlfriend. Let me pass.”

  She heard the unwelcome roar of more motorcycles and knew they were friends of Rolando. They never seemed to work. She wondered where they got the money to drive such flashy vehicles. Maybe they trafficked in ancient Mayan stones to fund their activities.

  As the other motorcycles pulled up to the curb in front of the clinic, she saw Dominic step out the door. He walked over, the keys to the Jeep in his hand, a smile on his face.

  “Hello, Elena,” he said.

  “Hi,” she said, “I was coming to see you to thank you for your help this morning.”

  Rolando moved in front of Elena like a man with a possession. “Yeah, thanks. But I can take care of her now. C’mon Elena.”

  Dominic’s hand clamped down on Rolando’s shoulder. “Hold on. I didn’t get your name.”

  “Rolando,” said Elena. “He lives here in town.”

  He shrugged out of Dominic’s grip.

  “Nice to meet you,” Dominic said and put out his hand.

  Rolando looked at it. “Why don’t you get lost? My girlfriend and I were just leaving.”

  “I told you I’m not your girlfriend,” Elena said. “You’re creating a scene, Rolando. Adios.” She stepped around him and disappeared into the clinic.

  Dominic followed her but turned at the clinic door to watch until Rolando and friends gunned their motorcycles and roared away. Elena watched from behind him. The first day she arrived Rolando had latched on to her walking down the street and had been a nuisance ever since. He was a male who didn’t understand the word no.

  “I’m sorry,” Dominic said, looking at her. “I hope I didn’t break up something, but you didn’t seem to be enjoying yourself.”

  “Not at all. He keeps bugging me and calling me his girlfriend. I hate men who think they’re God’s gift to women.”

  “Me, too,” he said, and Elena laughed.

  “Well, you know,” she said, “some guys don’t let up.”

  “I bet you have a lot of trouble with guys not letting up on you.”

  “Not really.” She smiled at the compliment. “I’m usually buried in books or poking in ruins. I stopped by to say thanks for this morning.”

  Dominic gave her a lopsided smile. “It was the least I could to. Look, I was just about to ride up to one of the villages to check on a mother who’s about to give birth. Would you care to ride along?”

  “Sure,” she said, “I could use a distraction.”

  “I bet.”

  He helped her into the Jeep. They eased down a side street and were soon driving on the open road with deep ditches alongside. The drive created a welcome breeze. Sunlight filtered through the dense overhang of trees.

  “Feeling better?” he asked, keeping his eyes on the winding road.

  “I tried to rest, but all I saw were that dead guy’s eyes staring into nothing. I haven’t taken the sedative, but I might in order to sleep tonight.”

  Dominic nodded. “What you’re experiencing is pretty common, unfortunately. Did the inspector come to see you?”

  “Yes, and I didn’t like the way his questioning went, like I was under suspicion.”

  “You?”

  “He said he had to question everyone, including my department head, Dr. Anna Roulade. But I think the dear director gave him the idea that I could be a suspect. Like I swipe the hieroglyphs, then report them stolen, then kill someone who’s butting in on my action, then discover
the murder myself to throw off the police. That sounds really logical, doesn’t it?”

  Dominic smiled, not looking over at her. She liked his easy smile. His profile was strong, nothing out of place, everything in perfect order. His left hand gripped the top the wheel, and the right draped over the top of the gear shift knob.

  She wondered what kind of a woman would give up a man like him. Did his pleasant façade hide some deep, dark buried secret?

  “If it’s any comfort,” he said, “the inspector acted suspicious with me when he came by the clinic this afternoon. Maybe it’s the way he says things. He has a squint that would do Inspector Clouseau proud.”

  Elena laughed. “You’re right. He does look like a Latin version of Peter Sellers.”

  They both laughed, and Elena felt better. Maybe the whole world wasn’t conspiring against her. Maybe she was being paranoid.

  “What did he ask you?” Elena said.

  “My role and how I got there, our relationship. I told him about the little kid that came running into the clinic with the doctor.”

  “What little kid?”

  “A skinny kid in shorts. You know, one of the kids that hang out on corners.”

  “You mean a child was with the doctor when he came into the clinic to get you?”

  “Right, why?”

  “Because there was a child at the Archaeological Park this morning, running away from the Temple, running like his life depended on it. I called to him but he kept running like he didn’t hear me. I didn’t think twice about it until now. But that child may have discovered the murder before I did and ran to town to get the doctor.”

  “He looked pretty frightened when he came into the clinic. He went back out to the site with us. After that he disappeared.”

  “I wonder what that child saw.”

  “The doctor called him Flaco. He might know where the kid lives. I’ll ask him. Hold on, the road gets worse after we make this turn.”

  The rough road wasn’t anything new for Elena who had been in places as remote as the headwaters of the steamy Amazon rainforest and the high peaks of the Andes. Their progress was slow as the Jeep lurched over large rocks jutting through the road surface. She gripped the window brace.

  As they bounced along, it dawned on her that Dominic’s presence provided a protective barrier between her and her fears, like a seawall breaking a rough tide.

  “Why do you go into the villages?” she asked. “Are you a doctor?” She was curious and a straight question was the best way she knew to get information.

  “No, not a doctor. I was an Episcopal priest. Before that I worked in the pharmaceutical industry. As a priest, I got interested in mission work and before I knew it I was asked to come here. I like the people, and they seem to trust me.”

  “I’ve never met an Episcopal priest before.”

  “Well, I’m no longer one. I resigned and doubt I’ll ever go back.”

  Silence stretched between them. He didn’t offer any more information, and Elena didn’t ask since it was clear it wasn’t something he wanted to talk about.

  They passed banana trees growing wild, mixed with scrub palms. The dense jungle hugged them close. The first little shanty appeared. The village was nothing but a few shacks huddled on a hillside.

  “Does this place have a name?” asked Elena.

  “San Lucas,” said Dominic, stopping the Jeep. He hopped out and came around to help Elena. A toddler wearing only a torn t-shirt stood looking at them, thumb in his mouth, big brown eyes assessing the Jeep and its occupants.

  Dominic picked up the little guy and asked him where his mama was. The child stared at him with those big brown eyes and smiled, pointing overhead. A parrot squawked at them from a perch in the tree.

  “Yes, I see the parrot,” said Dominic, “but he is not your mama.”

  The child solemnly stared at Dominic.

  “This is Eduardo,” Dominic said. “I have never heard him speak. It’s his mama we’ve come to check on.”

  The child put his thin arm on Dominic’s shoulder, and they started toward the house.

  “Angelina, are you here? It’s Dominic, come to see you.”

  A girl appeared at the door with an enormous belly.

  She looked too young and vulnerable, Elena thought, to be carrying such a burden, and this was her second child. Her heart went out to her. They chatted in Spanish heavy with Mayan dialect. Dominic must have spent a lot of time with the villagers to have been able to acquire such an impressive indio vocabulary. One word caught her ear. Fantasma. Ghost. Then as she listened she realized they were discussing the murder at the ruins, and she marveled how fast bad news traveled.

  The young mother’s eyes were wide and wary. “Everyone is afraid,” she said. “People say that a ghost killed the stranger. Que Dios le bendiga.” She crossed herself. “The ghost of the murdered man will come looking for us. They say it is not good to disturb the ruins, like the foreigners have done, that the ghosts will take their revenge and steal children from the villagers.”

  Dominic tried to allay her fears. “Angelina, don’t worry. There are no ghosts. No one will harm the children. Now, are you ready to come into town to stay with your sister? You will be safe there. You can go with us today.”

  The girl shook her head. “It isn’t time yet. Besides my husband wants me to stay here where he can look after me. Tell my sister I am fine.”

  But she didn’t look fine. She looked worn out. Her dress and bare feet were dusty, her hair was in a straggly pony tail, and dark circles shadowed her eyes.

  Dominic put Eduardo down. The child put up his hand in a high five position, and Dominic tapped it. Eduardo did the same for Elena, and she found herself enchanted by his big, trusting eyes.

  “Adios,” said Dominic, waving goodbye to Eduardo and Angelina.

  “Superstition is the worst,” he said on the ride back. “It gets in the way of reason. Her husband is a jealous man. He doesn’t let her out of his sight except when he works in the fields. It’s a bad situation. Her sister wants the doctor to deliver the baby because Angelina’s health has been poor.”

  “The little boy is so cute and solemn,” she said. “Are they really afraid of ghosts?”

  “Yes. Ghosts, old Mayan customs, and Catholicism are all jumbled together. Now a ghost is responsible for the murder. Perhaps we should suggest that to the inspector.”

  He glanced over at Elena, and they laughed together.

  “I’ll bring it up the next time I see him,” she said.

  It was almost dark when they got back to the clinic. The line of mothers with babies and children, old women and men had dwindled.

  “Would you like to get something to eat?” asked Dominic. “I’ll finish up here, and we can walk to a restaurant.”

  “Thanks, but I think I’ll call it a day. You’ve been very kind. Will you find out about the little boy who came to the clinic to get Dr. Hidalgo as soon as you can? I have a hunch he may be key to clearing my good name.”

  Four

  Dominic helped Corazón with the last of the people in line at the clinic, writing down names, essential details, nature of complaint. Corazón treated those she could and made appointments for others to see Dr. Hidalgo. The doctor came in close to evening closing time. As Dr. Hidalgo examined a small boy with a broken arm that Corazón had set, Dominic remembered his promise to Elena.

  “Who was the boy with you this morning, Doctor Hidalgo?”

  The doctor handed a pain prescription to the boy’s mother and a lollipop to the child whose tears turned to smiles as he followed his mother from the clinic. The doctor put down his pen and sat back in the chair.

  “What a day,” he said, rubbing his eyes. “The boy is called Flaco. He works the tourist population at the pyramids, selling chewing gum. He lives under the bridge on the road to the Archaeological Park.”

  “He was the one who came to get you, right?”

  “Yes, he knows me because I sometimes tr
eat him and the other homeless boys for fleas and lice and other childhood maladies. Those boys are pretty wild. Why do you ask?”

  Dominic shrugged. “Elena thought she saw a child running from the Park this morning before she found the body.”

  “That may have been him. He scavenges the grounds in the evening and early morning, looking for things the tourists drop or throw away.”

  “Do you know where he went after we arrived?”

  “No. I lost track of him in the excitement. Have you seen him?”

  “No, but I might try to track him down in the morning. Thanks, Doctor. Go home and get some rest. You look like you need it.”

  Dr. Hidalgo smiled. “Gracias, señor. I will take your advice.”

  Dominic left in the Jeep and drove down a narrow street to the south edge of town where he rented a modest one story home. He unlocked the black iron grilled gate of the entrance to the patio where he parked the Jeep for safekeeping every night.

  He wondered about Elena. He worried that she might not be able to sleep, tormented by the day’s events. He was glad she could laugh on their ride together.

  As he locked the gate, inspector Oliveros drew up in front and parked his Jeep. Dominic re-opened the gate and waited.

  “Hola, señor Dominic,” said the inspector. “I am pleased to find you home. May I speak with you?”

  “Yes, of course,” Dominic said and opened the gate wide so the inspector could pass inside.

  After securing the gate, Dominic led the way though the small garden in front of the house with lantana blooming in bright yellow. The driveway extended to the back of the house and was covered at the end by a roof of corrugated plastic. Fuchsia bougainvillea cascaded down the walls at each side of the house.

  The grilled gate to the front of the house was not locked. The housekeeper, Leyla, had not left for the day. She had five children and a husband who did not make enough money at his hotel maintenance job to support them. She was a good cook, which Dominic appreciated since he wasn’t much of a cook himself.

  He showed the inspector to the tiny living room and excused himself to find Leyla, who was in the kitchen.