Reaching the summit of the last rocky switchback, the dust covered Land Rover followed a small dirt road to the top of the plateau where Turner saw the weathered pyramids come into view. He marveled at the ancient structures and wondered who the builders were, and what had become of their culture.
Turner learned during his time spent on Tenerife that the pyramids had been totally ignored by the local inhabitants. Long thought to be piles of earthen rubble, the ancient structures finally came to light when Norwegian explorer, Thor Heyerdahl, did a study on the ruins. Heyerdahl found them similar in design to the pyramids he had been researching halfway across the world in Tucume, Peru.
The Tenerife structures were step pyramids with facings of black volcanic stone rising to a height of about thirty-nine feet. They were all astronomically aligned with the sunset of the summer solstice. Not exactly the Great Pyramids of Egypt, but enough to convince Thor Heyerdahl to have the area purchased by a Norwegian businessman and researched at length.
The new dig site had been a beehive of activity by numerous archeology students and workers. Today, however, Turner could see it was strangely quiet. Everyone had gone back to Santa Cruz to prepare for the Dia de Santiago Apostol
,
the annual festival and carnival.
The Land Rover headed over to the small wood-framed hut located at the far end of the site. It had been built to act as the command center and dubbed ‘the dust bowl’ by the American students working the dig. It housed the portable generators, food, and water plus served as the dining hall, meeting room, and communications shack for the teams.
Turner smiled when he saw Maria waving at him from the steps of the makeshift office as the Land Rover pulled across the compound, coming to a stop beside the generator shed.
Maria Santiago, daughter of Professor Carlos Santiago of the university, was a stunningly beautiful woman. Of Spanish descent, she was tall and slender with long, flowing black hair and bright blue eyes, which she attributed to a recessive gene indicative of her Guanche descent. That knowledge had given her the desire early on in life to learn all she could about the Guanche people. Over the past few years, Turner came to regard her passion as an obsession; Maria made little room in her life for other things, including him.
“Hello, Josh,” she yelled, running over to greet him as Turner stepped out of the Rover. He was surprised by her sudden warm embrace.
“Hey, uh, Maria,” was all he could muster as he felt her body against his. He wanted to be with her; be a part of her life, but sadly, he had learned long ago that her work was her only love. “Good to see you again,” he managed, regaining his composure.
“How was your trip to the United States?” she asked as the two began walking toward the doors to the operations building.
“It was boring as usual, Maria. Meeting with representa
tives of countries interested in joining ICAP is not what I would call interesting, but you know my dad. He wants things done his way, with personal visits and such. Why are you still
here with the festival gearing up in Santa Cruz?” he asked, changing the subject.
“You know me, Josh. All work and no play,” she said as they entered the building. “Now that you’re back, I wanted to show you something before I approached your father about it at our weekly meeting tonight in Santa Cruz. You know how ole’ Dr. Grant gets when he’s not the one making the discovery,” she said with a laugh.
“Okay, here we go again. Maria, you and the others have got to stop calling my father that,” Turner said in mock disdain. “It’s really starting to bug him.”
Ever since Josh and Eli Turner had met Maria, she’d teased the elder Turner about his uncanny resemblance to the actor, Sam Neill, who portrayed Dr. Alan Grant in the movie Jurassic Park. Before long, the other students picked up on it and the nickname stuck.
“We would stop calling him that if he didn’t wear that damned Australian outback hat all the time,” she replied, with a laugh that warmed Turner’s heart. “He told me just last week he was wearing that hat long before that movie came out, and that they stole the idea from the photo of him in Archeology Magazine.”
“So, Maria, what’s so darned important that it couldn’t wait a few more days until the festival was over? My aching back was just beginning to straighten out from the long flight.”
“I’m really sorry to interrupt your time off, Josh, but I didn’t want word to get out,” she said seriously. “I figured with
everyone away for the festival, you might be able to shed some light on a little mystery without an audience.”
“The new pyramid is no real mystery, Maria. They—”
“It’s not the pyramid,” she interrupted, “but something Samuel and I discovered while hiking on the western slopes of Blanca Mountain, up near the northern ridge of the Teide volcano. We were off the main trail system, and made it up the western edge of Blanca when we found a recent rockslide that exposed an ancient lava tube. You know Samuel,” she added, rolling her eyes. “He couldn’t pass up the opportunity to explore, so we decided to check it out. We actually found undisturbed Guanche dwellings, artifacts, and burial caves.”
“What’s the mystery of that, Maria? They’re quite common to these islands and discovered all the time. I‘m sure
you
were like a kid in a candy store though,” Turner said with a chuckle.
“I know, Josh. It’s not a unique discovery, but what we found deep inside the cave is. We took some photos of all we found on the digital camera and left it as is. We told no one so it wouldn’t be disturbed until a proper field study could be launched. Come over here and take a look.” Turner followed her past two long tables used for eating, and a corner area set up for the laptop computers.
The small corner table was a myriad of wires, extension cords, and surge suppressors, which were haphazardly lying about. Outside, the portable generator purred softly, supplying
the light and power needed for the small refrigerator, lights, and computer power strips.
“I know the pixel quality isn’t very good, but take a look at these, Josh.” Maria said, clicking on the laptop’s picture viewer program.
Turner saw on the screen the ancient cave, formed from a volcanic lava tube, its black basalt walls glimmering in the sunlight near the entrance, and then fading into the darker recesses of the cave. Maria continued advancing the pictures, showing items such as two well preserved tamarcos, coats of goat skin that protected the ancient Gaunches from the cold of the mountains, and, a huirmas, a piece of leather worn like sleeves to protect the arms.
“Look at the guaycas,”
Turner said, marveling at the crude leather legging used to cover the area between the ankle and the knee. “They’re remarkably well preserved.”
“Yes, they are, but bear with me. That‘s not what I brought you here for,” she said, quickly advancing the picture viewer. “When we approached the darker recesses of the cave, we had to pull out the flash light Samuel keeps in his back pack in order to continue. We saw several bucios, the large conch shells they used as trumpets along with a pile of banot, wooden spears and many other pristine artifacts.”
“Okay, Maria, that is all well and good. These are remarkable finds, but what’s the great puzzle here?” Turner asked, becoming a little annoyed.
“Here!” she exclaimed as the next slide showed what looked like small carved out fissures with basalt rocks stacked in front of them. “Guanche burial caves similar to what we have seen many times before, but take a look at the one at the far right. It’s much different from the others and the cover stone has something etched into it. It was way too faded to discern with one small light, so we’ll have to clean up the image to really distinguish what the symbol is.”
“Interesting that it’s different from the others,” Turner said, leaning closer to get a better look. “So, is that it?”
“No, we were preparing to leave when I saw something lying on the ground, partially buried in front of the tomb. We took a closer look and discovered a piece of parchment with writing on it. Oddly enough, it’s not ancient Guanche, or Spanish,” she said as the final slide appeared on the screen showing a close up of a segment of papyrus.
“Is this a joke?” Turner asked, staring at the photo with amazement.
“No joke, Josh,” she replied as they stared at the writing on the ancient parchment.
“This is written in ancient Aramaic!” Turner said in astonishment. “What the hell would this be doing in a Guanche tomb on one of the Canary Islands?”
“That’s why I called you first. I figured this may be an important find, or a complete waste of our time,” Maria said hesitantly as she poured herself a cup of coffee that was at
least six hours old. “You understand Aramaic. Can you make it out?”
“It’s pretty faded on this picture, Maria. I’d need to see it blown up in order to translate it,” Turner replied, still focusing on the strange document. “Do you think that your father at the university can get the approvals for us to begin a proper excavation without the usual red tape?”
“I’m sure when he sees this, Josh, and, if it turns out to be the real deal, he’ll find a way. Father has many friends in the Policia Nacional
,
and in the island administration.”
“Has Samuel said anything about this to anyone?” Turner asked.
“We made a deal not to tell anyone until we could talk to you, your father, and to my father. We didn’t want to risk the chance of relic hunters gutting the place before we could survey and document everything.”
“Nicely done, Maria; your father will be proud of you. Why don’t you take what you have back to San Fernando University and get a translation on this before we announce anything,” Turner said as he closed the laptop lid and handed it to Maria.
“I’m way ahead of you, Josh. We burnt the parchment and cover stone pictures to a CD then I sent Samuel back to Santa Cruz University. I’ll send them to my father when I meet up with Samuel at the university. We’re all meeting tonight at the Cofradia de Pescadores
restaurant for our monthly meeting. Hopefully, we can discuss whatever we find out from
the antiquities department,” she said, as the two turned and started walking out of the office.
Locking the door behind them, Turner said, “I’m heading back to the hotel to get cleaned up, so I’ll meet you later.”
“Okay, Josh, I’ll see you there,” Maria yelled as she sprinted toward her Jeep. Turner watched her, wondering what it would take to breach that wall of dedication to her work.
Early evening had come to the city of Santa Cruz along with the festive atmosphere, which now enveloped the city streets as Paulo pulled the Land Rover in front of
the entrance to the El Dorado
hotel.
The El Dorado was one of the few hotels that were affordable to the university since they were footing the bill for Turner’s stay. The hotel was clean, and attractive with comfortable accommodations.
“I’ll pick you up at seven o’clock, Josh,” Paulo yelled as he pulled away from the entrance.
“Oh, that’s just lovely,” Turner grumbled, looking at his watch and seeing it was already close to six o’clock. “That gives me just one hour to rest and shower.”
He passed through the colorful glass doors that led into the hotel’s lobby. In the courtyard he saw the now familiar circular bar. The piano player was already into his first set for the evening. The small lounge was a favorite for Turner and Samuel after a long day on the dig site. He then walked over
to the front desk where the night clerk was just beginning his shift.
“Good evening, Juan. Are there any messages for me?” Turner asked the slightly balding clerk, who had worked at the El Dorado for fifteen years.
“No messages for you this evening, Señor Josh,” he replied looking in the slot for room number 12. “Would you like me to have your drink ready for you in the bar after you’ve had a chance to freshen up?”
“Not tonight, Juan. It’s tempting, but I’ll be dining out with Professor Santiago, my father, and the team at the Cofradia de Pescadores and probably won’t be returning until late.”
“Ah, the meals there are delicious, Señor Josh,” he said with a wide grin.
“Thanks, Juan. I’ve learned to trust your taste in restaurants since I’ve been on Tenerife,” he said as he made his way down the lavishly carpeted hallway leading to the guest rooms.
Turner fumbled in his pocket for his room key then opened the door and was greeted by the scent of fresh cut Canary samphire, a wild plant with bright green leaves and golden flowers found on the island’s coastal basalt rocks.
Shutting the door behind him, he tossed his coat onto the bed then proceeded to strip off his dust laden clothes; a daily routine from the arid conditions on the eastern side of Tenerife with the constant dry winds blowing westward off the Saharan Desert on the African continent.
Showering and then toweling off, he quickly dressed and walked back into the bedroom. He saw the post-it he’d stuck on the closet door yesterday reminding him to call Abby in Washington tomorrow and thank her for setting up his accommodations while he was in the states.
Abby, the first woman Dad has attempted to have a relationship with since losing Mom
, Turner thought.
God knows, he needs someone in his life
.