by L. Todd Wood
There was not a cloud in the sky. It was as if all the rain the day before had washed away any hint of bad weather. He had spent the previous day writing and was again quite productive. Cecilia had left him alone and let him work. That is until the sun began to set.
Rafe looked up from his computer as the memory of her body returned. Wow, he thought. A sea gull swooped down over him and caught him by surprise. The scene was transposed immediately to his book. He attempted to capture the motions of the bird's wings, the sound of its call, and the aggressiveness of its attack while it attempted to acquire a scrap of seafood. He couldn't type fast enough.
It was late in the afternoon, and Cecilia had gone back to check out of her hotel and get her things. I guess she’s staying with me for a while. I’m probably crazy but what the heck. He decided he had written enough for the day and paid his bill, downed the last bit of wine in his glass, stood up, and headed back towards his flat. He checked his word count and noticed he had only written a couple thousand words for the day. However, the prose was high quality and Rafe was satisfied.
The sun was beating down hard, and it was a scorching day. The tourists on the main drags were out in force, and he could hardly make his way down the crowded thoroughfare. It was no use. He decided to take an alternate route away from the well-traveled, popular parts of Venice. Soon he was on an alleyway along a canal devoid of people. Rafe felt relaxed and happy. That’s probably because of Cecilia. How strange is that? In other words, what the heck are you doing? Well, it feels right. One day at a time, I guess.
A group of sea gulls again flew overhead making a god-awful racket, shattering his bubble of self-absorption. It was like they were trying to get his attention. He noticed they began to circle over the canal a few meters ahead. Instantly Rafe realized where he was. He was at the palace again. The palace filled with mold and the home of the fiery water. He walked to the edge of the concrete and peered into the green canal. There were no colors floating around, as it was the middle of the day and the light was bright. But, there was something else. Rafe could see something attached to the wall of the palace about ten feet below the water, some type of symbol. He couldn’t make it out, as the canal rippled on the surface and clouded his field of vision.
He felt drawn to this place. I’m supposed to be here—how strange, he thought to himself. The images below the surface beckoned him. He desperately tried to make them out through the trembling, murky water. It was no use. He sat on the edge of the canal and let his legs dangle over the side, frustrated. Trying to decide what to do.
Screw this. Rafe looked around to his left and right and confirmed the alleyway was deserted. He quickly pulled off his clothes to his boxer shorts, looked around to check once again, and dove into the water. The salt filled his nose and eyes, and they burned. He made his way down to the symbol on the palace foundation. The light became less and less visible as he swam about ten feet under the surface. He arrived eye level with the image and stared as long as he could as his breath ran out. Rafe felt curiously alone and not alone at the same time. He stared at the image of the lion’s head atop a naked man’s body. A snake was wrapped around the torso with its head sitting atop the lion’s mane. The body held two keys in its hands. The image had four wings protruding from his back, and a lightning bolt flashed across his chest. Rafe stared at the picture hewn into the stone. The lion’s mouth was open and was terrifying. He needed to surface but he was held there. Something wouldn’t let him go. He felt at home. Like the image was familiar, but he had never seen it before, of that he was sure. He felt light-headed and his lungs were bursting. SURFACE you idiot!
At the last moment, he used what strength he had, flailed his arms and legs, and kicked to the top. As his head broke the surface, the air exploded out of his lungs, and he sucked whatever molecules of oxygen he could manage. After several moments of regaining his breath, Rafe slowly swam overhand to the edge and pulled himself to the side of the canal and onto the walkway. He was exhausted. He lay there for several minutes, recovering. The image of the beast was still in his mind. Rafe could have sworn as he swam away that the face had turned red and blood oozed from the mouth of the lion.
It was some time before Rafe returned to his flat. The experience had jarred him. He had walked around the city for a couple hours, trying to make sense of it. But nothing made sense, he was confused. He opened the door to the flat as the sun began to set and the light was beginning to disappear from the balcony glass doors.
“I was beginning to think you wouldn’t be coming back,” said Cecilia as he noticed her lying on the bed. She was dressed in nothing but a terry cloth robe. Yet, his mind was still foggy from what had happened.
“I really don’t know what just went down,” Rafe responded.
“What do you mean?”
“As I was walking back from the fish market after writing there for several hours, I ended up back at the palace where we saw that strange glow in the water a couple days ago. It was the weirdest thing! I felt drawn to it, like I was supposed to be there. Then I saw something under the water mounted onto the stone foundation. It was an image of some sort. I couldn’t see It clearly, so I dove in, just like that.”
“Just like that?”
“Yeah, really strange, isn’t it? And I almost stayed down too long, staring at it. I mean I really almost drowned. It felt like I was supposed to be down there, even though I knew I had to surface.”
“Really? What was the image?” she asked.
“Like nothing I’ve ever seen before.” Rafe walked to his writing table and pulled a blank piece of paper from a notepad. He began to draw. A few moments later, he handed the drawing to Cecilia. “Like this.”
She gazed at the rendering. “I’ve seen this before!”
“Where?”
“I don’t know. I can’t remember. But I know it has something to do with the Roman Empire. Can I use your phone?”
“Why?”
“I know someone who will know what this is.” She took the phone from his hand as he held it out for her. She dialed.
“Fernando, hello, it’s me Cece from Rome. Yes, it’s good to hear from you as well. Listen, I don’t have time to talk, but I want to send you an image, okay? I’ll scan it and email it right over. I know I’ve seen it before but I can’t place it. It’s of ancient origin. Thanks, Luv! Call me back at this number, okay?” She clicked off the phone and spoke to Rafe. “We’ve helped each other out from time to time. He is head of archeology at the Maritime Museum in Barcelona. I know he will be able to tell us what this is.” She placed the image Rafe had drawn on the scanner and hit the button. The device began to hum. Shortly after, she logged in to her email from Rafe’s computer and fired off the image. “Now we just wait!”
“Should I be jealous?” Because strangely I am.
“I’m not even going to answer that,” she responded with a smile.
Embarrassed for asking, Rafe changed the subject. “So tell me more about your work.”
“I have been studying archeology at Sapienza in Rome for some time now. There is always another class to take. I’ve focused on Roman society. It’s quite fascinating. Several months ago, I was asked to give a speech on the subject at a diplomatic event in Rome. I have some contacts in the corpo diplomatic, and they were having an event, so they asked me to speak. I thoroughly enjoyed it. Since then, I’ve received multiple invitations. My talk is on why Rome collapsed. I’m even going to be paid for my next speech in Florence in a few weeks. It seems I’ve found my calling.”
“Then I guess you won’t have to hit up strange men in St. Mark’s Square?” He regretted saying it right after the words left his mouth. He could see the look of shame sweep over her face.
“Hey a girl’s got to survive, right? Anyway, I don’t see you complaining. It takes two to tango.”
“You’re right. As I said, I’m not judging.” There was an awkward silence between them. The phone rang unexpectedly and loudly, thankfully
shattering the uncomfortable moment.
Cecilia answered. “Pronto, aaah Fernando, let me put you on speaker phone, okay? And speak English? I have a friend here as well.” She placed the phone on the rickety table after hitting the speaker button.
“Where did you find this?” asked Fernando.
“Let’s just say we found it in Venice,” Cecelia responded.
“Well, I would like to know more at some point about where. It’s a symbol of an ancient religion that we don’t know much of anything about. It was very secret. It’s called Mythraism. We do know it was mostly contained within the Roman legions. It seems they built underground temples wherever they garrisoned. The origins of the religion are unknown. There is some evidence that links it back to a god worshipped in Persia thousands of years ago, but the links are not definite or clear and mostly theory. There are a few symbols associated with this movement. This is one of them. The other primary one you see consistently is a statue of a soldier slaying a bull with a spear. Beyond that, we know nothing.”
“But why would we find it here in Venice?”
“That’s a good question, as Rome was long gone when Venice was built—that’s why I want to know more. But today is your lucky day. I suggest you come to Barcelona. We’ve been doing some more excavation under the naval dockyards here in part of the museum space. We’ve found more of the old Roman city of Barconi. I suggest you come here and look immediately”
“But why do we need to do that?” she asked. “Can’t you just tell us what you’ve found?”
“Because day after tomorrow, we are opening a two thousand year old, underground temple we believe to be Mythraic.”
After buying the plane tickets rather quickly, Rafe found himself leading Cecilia into the Venice evening to find a quaint, out-of-the-way restaurant for the evening meal. They made small talk for a while, enjoying a fine bottle of Pinot Noir and reveling in the discreet privacy of the small establishment. The place was tucked into the side of a fifteenth-century military structure; previously the area had been used as an armory or something of that sort. It was perched about ten meters above the canal below and the associated walkway beside it. It was one of Rafe’s favorites. He had stumbled upon it rather accidently one day while wandering around the city. It was quite remarkable he had found his way back so easily as it had been weeks ago. Cecilia was enchanted.
“You are full of surprises!” she gushed. “This place is marvelous.”
“Yes, I thought you’d like it.”
“So you never answered my question.”
“What question was that?”
“Why are you alone?”
Rafe said nothing for a while then spoke. “It’s a long story.”
“We’ve got all night.”
“I’m divorced. My ex-wife and I got married rather quickly. You see it was the great sex and all. Four months. Can you believe that? I was living high on Wall Street and she was my goddess. I was her hero. We turned out to be neither. Anyway, right after we were married, one evening, she became really violent. She totally changed. It was as if she wanted to get married quickly to not let me know what she was really like. It was scary. I mean like glazed over eyes, talking in tongues, kind of scary. Really dangerous stuff. I had no idea what to do. I was taught growing up you never hit a woman. But she was physically, emotionally, verbally, you name it, out of control abusive. It got worse and worse. And I took it. I took it for years. A year later, our first child was born. That was interesting, as since the sex had stopped completely after we tied the knot, except for the occasional roll in the hay once a year. Anyway, things went downhill even more after that. I tried to keep her happy but it was no use. She was unhappy inside. Only later did I find out about the abuse she suffered as a child. Well, some years later we had another child, trying to put a happy face on this disaster, but it ended anyway. The divorce was final six months or so ago. I was literally exhausted. I needed a break. So here I am.”
“Quite the story. I’m sorry for you.”
“Don’t be, as I told you, I’m the happiest I’ve ever been in my life. I wake up with a smile on my face every day. When you’ve been through what I’ve been through, to have a chance at a somewhat normal life is breathtaking. And, I have my kids. They are my sun, my light. I cherish them. My little girl is only four years old. She is a blessing.”
“Do you miss them?”
“Of course, I talk to them almost every day, but this sabbatical has done wonders for me. I’m a new man. So, what about you? No boyfriend, sugar daddy?”
“Oh, there have been a few. But no one special right now. I dated a member of parliament for a couple years, went to all of the fancy parties and official events. But it got boring after a while. It was all about him, not about me. So I broke it off. Now I just focus on my career and traveling, when I can."
Rafe’s phone rang. “Hello?” he answered.
“Hi, Daddee!”
“Hello, my little princess, how are you today? I miss you very much!”
“Daddy, I learned a fun song at school today. Do you want to hear it?”
“Yes, of course, my darling.” Rafe listened as his daughter sang Twinkle Twinkle Little Star. His heart melted.
Chapter Three
As the Airbus jet approached Barcelona, Rafe stared out of the aircraft window, lost in thought. He vaguely noticed the hills surrounding the ancient city as the aircraft started its approach. The topography was striking, as the highlands were covered in a dark green whereas all the land below them was a drab brown. The affect was mesmerizing and reminded him of a camouflage paint job on a tank. He awoke from his trance when startled by the bump of the landing gear being lowered and the flight attendants preparing for landing. His thoughts returned to the present.
After taxiing for what seemed like an eternity, Rafe and Cecilia finally walked off the jet way into an opulent, modern airport rebuilt to showcase the Olympics several years back. The addition of the new Terminal 1 in 2009 expanded the facility even further. The floors and glass walls were gleaming, and the duty-free shopping and other amenities were somewhat overwhelming. Cecilia resisted the temptation to browse the shoe stores as they walked past. Rafe found himself comparing it to the third world infrastructure of NYC and was embarrassed. Eventually they made their way out of the airport, bypassing customs and immigration as they were still inside the European Union. They found the car the museum had sent waiting outside the terminal. The thirty-minute ride went by fast as they drove towards the sea and the old city. The vegetation had changed radically from Italy and was more barren and drab, almost like a desert.
As they entered the center of the metropolis, Rafe marveled at the cleanliness and order of Barcelona. It thrived with an energy of youth, art, and design. He concluded it was a special place, a place he had not yet visited. They passed through the Eixample—the modern district—where the dreamy creations of Gaudi and other artists were on full display. Soon they were driving slowly down the Rambla, the main boulevard leading to the water and the old shipbuilding port. Eventually, after dodging thousands of people idling their way to the sea, they arrived at the water and could drive no more. The monument to Christopher Columbus’ likeness adorned the round-about in front of them. Here, he had told the Spanish monarchy of the New World. And from here, the Spanish monarchy projected power around the globe as one of the first truly global empires before succumbing to the financial burden of supporting its far-off colonies and financing multiple wars around the globe.
The car pulled into a garage behind the old naval dockyards to the right, which now housed the museum. Fernando bounded out to meet them.
“Hello hello, my friends. Thanks for coming! I didn’t think you should miss this! I’ve got lunch waiting for you inside in my office. Then we will get to the festivities! Welcome!” He kissed Cece on both cheeks in a little too friendly of an embrace. Rafe felt himself slightly annoyed. Where is that feeling coming from? You hardly know her.
&
nbsp; Barcelona had been the maritime center of the Spanish Empire back in the day. In the reign of King Ferdinand and Queen Isabella, and in the heyday of Christopher Columbus, thirty galleys a year were hewn and built here next to the Mediterranean to buttress the sea power of the magnificent Spanish fleet. The site of the facility built to house this construction had long ago been relegated to other purposes, such as artillery storage for the Spanish Army. However, with the coming of democracy in the late twentieth century, the Army gave the dockyards back to the city. Only then did the excavations begin and the researchers realized what they had—not only fifteenth-century dockyards but much more lay underneath.
The city of Barcino was a Roman colony two millennium ago. Soldiers who were too old to fight the far-flung battles of the empire settled there. Spain was an important colony of Rome and provided food, olive oil, wine, and metal to the rest of Roman civilization before being overrun by the Germanic tribes as the Western Roman Empire deteriorated. However, the impact of Roman society upon the Iberian Peninsula was enduring.
The old Roman city was a strategic trading port on the Mediterranean, existing underneath the foundation of the follow-on empires, undisturbed. Slowly, it was being rediscovered. The museum now boasted open-air pits in the stone floor, scattered among the fine specimens of maritime history, allowing visitors to view recently found remnants of lost Rome.
Fernando led them into a conference room near his office, and they enjoyed a variety of tapas brought in from a local restaurant. Shrimp, Greek salad, cheese, ham, olives, and other appetizers adorned the table. Rafe was quite enjoying himself as the conversation was entertaining and stimulating. Everything was washed down with a pleasant bottle of Rioja, which made him extra happy.
