DRAFT – COPYRIGHT© ALBERTO HAGGAR 2009
CHAPTER 4
PARIS, FRANCE
The evening is cooling off and the sky is cloudy. The beautiful city of Paris prepares itself for another autumn night. The cold of the month of November
promises to bring a severe winter for the Parisians. The Maternity Clinic of Our Lady of Paris is already operating with the lights on. The hospital’s main
building and the other modern installations occupy a total area of four hectares, making this hospital complex one of the biggest in all of France.
The corridors are already busy with medical personnel and patients with medical results and prescriptions in their hands. Nurses and porters do their job
with obvious compassion.
The waiting room for gynecological assessments is less crowded. A dozen women and their companions wait for their respective turn to be attended.
Claude, a young Frenchman, thirty years old, patiently waits seated on one of the sofas located in the corridor of the maternity ward. Every now and then he
looks at his watch and looks towards a door marked “consultation room 1080”. The minutes spent waiting seem never-ending even though he has only been
sitting for twenty five minutes.
The young Frenchman gets up and walks towards one of the windows that look out over one of the busiest avenues of Paris. He watches the city transforming before his eyes and then checks the time again. He notices that a young woman, about eight months pregnant, has been watching him. She is sitting alone and away from everyone else.
They catch each other’s eye and she smiles. Claude smiles back.
- It’s our first time – he says shyly.
- I can tell. My husband doesn’t stay calm either when comes and has to wait.
- How many children do you have?
- This is the second, they’re both boys.
- That’s great… - he says without knowing if what he said was the right thing.
- Do you already know what you’re having?
- No, no. We still don’t know. She’s had a few problems in the last weeks. She’s almost at five months.
- That tends to happen, especially with first time mothers. Don’t worry too much. Nature knows what it’s doing.
The woman’s face seems somewhat familiar to Claude. He hesitates for a few seconds then decides to ask:
- Excuse me… but, do we know each other from somewhere?
- I don’t think so. I’ve lived outside of France for many years and I just got back to Paris a week ago. – She smiles.
- I’m sorry, but your face seems very familiar to me.
Claude was about to insist when the door to consultation room 1080 opens, showing Lucille, his twenty five year old wife’s silhouette. She has light brown,
almost blonde hair. Her green eyes are light and they give off a sparkle that gives away the fact that there is another life growing inside her body. She extends
her hand to say goodbye to the doctor. In the other hand she holds some large envelopes that contain the results of the medical analyses and the ultrasound
that were done. Claude excuses himself from the lady and walks towards Lucille.
She looks directly into his eyes. He doesn’t understand the message and asks:
- Is everything ok?
- Let’s talk somewhere else please. – She says while she takes him by the hand and walks towards the elevator.
- Tell me Lucille, did something bad happen?
- Let’s go Claude. Let’s talk somewhere else.
Claude turns to say goodbye to the lady he was talking to and notices that her chair is empty. He looks around for her but can’t find her. They get in the elevator.
Claude presses the button that will take them directly to the parking lot. The elevator doors close. They are both silent. Claude does not ask anything. He has a feeling that something’s not right. He decides to look at her. She notices this out of the corner of her eye. She turns and looks directly into his eyes. They say nothing for only a few seconds but they
seem endless. Claude holds his breath. Not being able to hold it anymore she gives a hint of a smile and throws her arms around his neck and hugs him.
DRAFT – COPYRIGHT© ALBERTO HAGGAR 2009
DRAFT – COPYRIGHT© ALBERTO HAGGAR 2009
CHAPTER 9
GUADALUPE BASILICA, TEPAYAC, MEXICO
Monsignor Jativa, a priest of seventy years of age, with white hair and an impeccable black cassock, finds himself since a very early hour attending to the
matters of the Basilica. As the Abad of the Basilica of Our Lady Guadalupe, his obligations keep him busy practically all day; from a very early hour.
His office is ample and is surrounded by beautiful religious art. The atmosphere is impregnated with the smell of antique cedar wood, from which most of the
delicately hand crafted furniture is made. Shelves, bookcases, large chest of drawers and pews are part of the heritage furniture of his office.
The morning’s sunshine rays sneak through the stained glass windows of his office. The atmosphere is predominantly amber in color. Minute particles of
dust suspended in the air refract the solar rays, creating a curtain of light that prevents seeing the furniture against the wall.
With his glasses on, he carefully follows up on an old list of events registered in an old document almost two centuries old. He interrupts his work to fine
tune his hearing. He thinks he’s heard something out of the ordinary. Lightly shaking his head he resumes his delicate work. He carefully copies the
information from the antique scroll and captures them in a notebook. He was ready to turn the page of the document when his peaceful environment is
interrupted by the abrupt entrance of Don Virgilio, who seems agitated and somewhat in shock. His face is pale and his lips tremble when he attempts to
speak.
- Monsignor…! Monsignor…!
- Virgilio! – the startled Abad says.
- Hurry…! You have to come!
- Virgilio, for heaven’s sake! What is going on?
- Monsignor Jativa, you must come…hurry!
- Calm down Virgilio! In heaven’s name! Tell me what is going on, dear Lord…Why such a commotion? – the priest stands up and takes off his glasses.
- The girl, Monsignor…! The girl!
- The girl? What girl, Virgilio?
- The Patron Saint!
- By God Virgilio! You look as though you’ve seen a ghost…Calm down man, and tell me what is going on…
- Hurry, come see for yourself!
- Come see? But what is it that you want me to go see?
- Follow me Monsignor! Come with me, please!
- Have you taken your blood pressure medicine this morning?
- Please Monsignor…!
The Monsignor agrees to Virgilio’s request and follows him, while he tries to get the man to explain what is going on. Virgilio has no words to express himself.
- Tell me what is going on man, for God’s sake!
Virgilio just looks into his eyes and tries to swallow. With a hand gesture he invites him to carry on walking.
Both men walk with a hurried pace through the central corridor of the temple. Virgilio leads him as fast as possible to the central altar and they stop in front of
the Image of Our Lady Guadalupe. Virgilio shows the Abad the Image of the beloved Patron Saint of Mexicans. Monsignor looks and squints his eyes in order
to see better.
- What do you want me to look at Virgilio?
The devout man doesn’t answer and lifts a trembling hand and points at the Image. The Abad does not notice anything out of the ordinary. He looks at Virgilio
and notices that he is not blinking whilst looking straight at the altar. He turns to look at the Image again. He searches his pockets and gets his glasses out;
he puts them on and looks again. He tries to follow his gaze until he manages to focus. The expression on his face turns grave and serious. He wants to talk
but because of his astonishment he cannot. Slowly and open-mouthed, he makes the sign of the cross on himself and falls to his knees supporting using
one hand to support himself with Virgilio’s arm, he does not take his eyes away from the Image. Virgilio follows the Abad’s example.
- Purest Ave Maria! – in an almost reflexive act the words escape from the Abad Jativa’s mouth.
DRAFT – COPYRIGHT© ALBERTO HAGGAR 2009
DRAFT – COPYRIGHT© ALBERTO HAGGAR 2009
CHAPTER 11
LACANDON JUNGLE, MEXICO
The long walk along the Sac-be perfectly paved and leveled made Father Bernard’s walk into the cavern very agile. As he walked he came across constructions
made of cut stone. He found basic structures of medium size, where it was evident that ceremonies and offerings took place. Nothing indicated that the place
had been recently visited. Sculptures and gargoyles of different representations were everywhere. He was amazed at everything he was seeing. In the more
than twenty five years as an investigator and student of the esoteric and occult of different ancient civilizations, never had he seen anything like it. It was
certainly a find that had him in ecstasy. He calculated that he had gone in about a half kilometer on the subterranean Mayan path. He remembered that many
ancient legends spoke of a similar place that he now found himself in; in particular the Popol-Vuh or “Book of Events”. This Quiché document corresponds to
the Book of Genesis in Judeo-Christian tradition.
A shiver ran up his spine as he remembered the place that the ancient oral legends referred to and in the Popol-Vuh it was called Xibalba: the Mayan
underworld, the place in the spirit world where humans would have to confront their demons.
Father Bernard stops and checks the fuel in the lamp. He notices that he has just enough time to walk a few more minutes before needing to head back.
Being stuck without light would represent grave problems for him and his companions.
The idea of finding himself in the Mayan Xibalba was not a pleasant one. Tradition indicated that the underworld was full of all kinds of diabolical creatures
and pests.
The path that leads to the Xibalba is described as a descent by stairs down a steep slope that opens onto the bank of a river that runs through a ravine with
spiked calabashes. The narration speaks of four paths: one red, one white, one yellow and the other black. These paths are associated with the four Bacabs
or cardinal points of the Mayan world-view. The Bacab or black path is the one that is to guide humans to the great Council Room of the Yuums or Lords of
Xibalba.
These thoughts make him constantly check his rearguard and the ceilings of the cavern in search of danger.
Father Bernard noticed that the air quality was improving. He understood that it was a clear indication of being near an alternate exit. He moves forward a few
more meters and finds himself in the middle of a gigantic cupola of about thirty meters in height. He thought that the cupola resembled that of a church. In the
upper part, right in the middle, a duct of about two meters wide slipped between the solid rocks to the surface. He could see something bright at the end of that
narrow vertical shot that went up about fifty meters. He can see that the cobbled road continues deeper into the cavern.
With an exactness known only to the ancient Mayans, a shrine of three foundations made of stone of about four meters by four and a half meters high is
located directly beneath the cupola of the cavern. In the center of the shrine, an imposing monolithic pillar of approximately eight meters in height by one meter
thick and a half meter wide rises pointing at the ?? sediment that ascends towards the surface. The Jesuits approaches the shrine. He looks at the steps and
goes up them cautiously. The pillar is finely carved with hieroglyphics. He touched the stone with great care. As an expert epigrapher he is able to identify
some of the glyphs.
Something unusual, the pillar has a cavity a sort of niche. Bernard goes around the pillar in order to see it. Inside the niche of the pillar there is what
unmistakably is a codex made of Mayan huun paper. The document is incredibly well preserved. He puts the lamp ont eh floor and delicately takes it into his
hands. He knows that this could be the most valuable archeological find in recent times.
Bernard suddenly turns around having heard a noise behind him. His heart beats faster. He can feel the blood rush to his cheeks and the adrenaline run
through his whole body. He looks in every direction and cannot see anything. Something tells him he is not alone down there. He opens his shirt and puts
the codex in there to protect it. He takes the lamp off the ground and goes down the shrine. He takes a deep breath and keeps walking, crossing exactly the
radius of the cupola. He hears another noise and stops. This time he manages to figure out what direction the noise is coming from.
He builds up the courage and walks towards the place where the noise came from. He manages to see that just in front of him there is a crevice in the floor.
He takes a secure position on the ground digging his hiking boots into the dust of the limestone. He does not know how deep it might be.
He extends his arm to illuminate the crevice. Father Bernard is frozen with horror looking at the depth of the stony accident.
- For God’s sake! What is that?
He does not believe his eyes. Exactly as described in the Popol-Vuh, a river of scorpions with threatening venomous stingers fill the elongated pit. The start
and end of the crevice are not visible. The Jesuit is petrified before such a scene. All of a sudden something alters the scorpions and they start a rapid climb
up the low walls of the crevice. In a matter of seconds they reach the upper part and start overflowing and running towards Bernard. He backs up in light of this
aggressive advance of a sea of scorpions; but soon he realizes that there are thousands of them and they are headed straight for him. He takes a few more
steps back before starting to run. He retraces his steps and goes towards the exit.
When he thinks he has outrun the insects he stops to catch his breath. Big beads of sweat run down his face and he breathes frantically. He is pale, his mouth
is dry his legs are weak. Suddenly a blast of fresh air hits him in the face. He lifts the lamp in that direction searching for the cause of the inexplicable
movement and change in temperature. The temperature drastically drops again by another ten degrees.
- Oh, no… Xibalba!! – he murmurs to himself.
Flabbergasted, he remembers the passage in the Quiché manuscript that talks of a river of scorpions, one of puss and another of blood.
He also remembers the description of the Houses of the Underworld, of which there are one cold, one hot, another of bats, one of darkness,
one of tigers and a sixth one of sharp razors.
- It’s not possible! It’s only a legend! – he tells himself, trying to calm down.
To his amazement he can hear the unmistakable screeching of thousands of bats that have come off the walls of the stone cupola. Within seconds,
Bernard’s surroundings are covered by thousands of bat wings. The priest resumes his frantic race in search of the exit. There are bats everywhere.
He can feel that they have started trying to bite him. He gets to the point where the Sac-Be ends and the rocky uneven path starts. As best he can, and with
the help of the lamp he manages to keep the children of the night at a distance. He trips a few times and almost loses the lamp. He gets up again and
resumes the race. Bit by bit the bats let him go. He continues his rapid flight. In the distance his is able to see a halo of light on the stone wall; it’s the
exit that is lit up by his Lacandonian companions. He slows down and tries to catch his breath, knowing that the exit is near.
Just a few steps after stopping his frantic race he can hear the terrifying roar of a feline, inhabitant of Mayan lands. He turns the side and can see a half
dozen of them lying in wait. The giant cats are ready to pounce on the priest. Bernard can see the open unblinking eyes as they bear their fangs and growl.
- By all the Saints, it’s not real! – He said with a dry throat. <<This is not real…they aren’t here…keep walking Bernard…>>
He walks a few more feet until one of the felines decides to go for him. Bernard sensed that the animal was about to jump and run behind him to devour him.
He didn’t wait any longer and started a race for his life. In the final stretch for the exit he dropped the lamp which when it hit the floor broke the glass and let
what was left of the fuel out creating an explosion and flames that distracted the animal giving the Jesuit valuable seconds to reach the exit. The other tigers were behind him too. Father Bernard was screaming for help from his Lacandonian companions. They heard him and approached the entrance of the cavern.
To their surprise the priest crossed from one side to the other as if it were a circus act.
- Close the entrance! Hurry, close the entrance! – he shouts at them anxiously from the muddy floor.
The natives, stunned by the speed of the event, did not understand what was going on. Intrigued and curious, they approach the mouth of the cavern to see
what had scared the priest like that.
- Nooooo…! Close the entrance! – he shouted again with his eyes popping out of his head.
The Lacandonians looked at him without understanding. They look through the mouth of the cavern again and can’t see anything. They talked between
themselves in Mayan and then started to laugh in unison. It was obvious they were laughing at him.
- Tigers…there were tigers in the cavern…! – he tells them pointing at the entrance.
- There aren’t any tigers in caverns Father Bernard. – answers one of them, laughing.
- But…I saw some… - Father Bernard stammers not being able to express himself.
He stays on the floor for a few moments, pensive. <<Holy God, I’m going crazy. Is it possible that it was only a hallucination? No, no, I saw them and I heard
them>> He looks at them for a moment and evaluates their looks. He slowly gets up and brushes the mud off his clothes. He brushes the mud off his chest
and feels the codex that he took from the stone pillar’s niche under his shirt. He unbuttons his shirt and takes it out. He looks at it and then raises his gaze
up to his companions. The Lacandonians are looking at the document. <<This is real; thank God it’s real…>>
DRAFT – COPYRIGHT© ALBERTO HAGGAR 2009
