All The Way
Chapter 20
Later….
Julia paused outside Richard's tent on her way to their research area. Why was everything becoming so complicated? Their work area was empty. Where was he? Did she overlook his presence in the mess tent where Herb and Denis were playing chess? Julia rolled her eyes. Hardly.
Remembering her mission she touched the paper neatly folded and placed in the bodice of her nightgown. Moving to her makeshift desk she pulled out a journal and sample envelopes, propped the flashlight between her neck and shoulder, opened the note and carefully removed the long black hairs and sliver of bone. With great care she placed the items in small sample envelopes and placed them in the back of her journal.
Smoothing out the paper, she began to copy Richard's notes in the back pages of her journal. At the beginning the printing and drawings were neat and orderly. By the end, the letters were scrawled and erratic. What was going on? Did something cause Richard to rush at the end of his note taking? Or was the change in handwriting evidence that Richard was changing physically. Her eyes narrowed as she folded his notes and slipped them back into her bodice.
Julia rubbed her eyes and sighed. A mental picture was taking shape. Using the map, Richard and the two Mayan brothers had searched and located the ancient village. But did he know what he was looking for when he entered the village? Whatever he was seeking he had to make another trip, a more formal trip, a trip that would be recognized and sanctioned by the scientific community. And by that time he realized the evidence could be found in the preserved blood of the ancient ones. For Richard it was all coming together. Julia ran her fingers over the journal, thinking, her eyes narrowed in concentration. So that was it. She understood why Richard was so impatient with the others; they were just in the way. Perhaps they were all in the way, even her.
Julia secured the fly to the tent and felt the cool night air swirl around her legs. Playing the light along the path she returned to her tent. Recalling her unwanted visitor she swept the beam of light across the netting and found a walking stick crawling on the inside. Carefully she opened the fly and flipped the insect into the darkness. Stepping inside she opened her trunk and placed the journal under clothing and locked it. Tomorrow she would secretly examine the hair and bone.
Was Richard in the camp? Where was he spending his nights? She had to know. Julia kicked off her slippers and slipped on socks and boots. For a moment she hesitated. What if Richard were in the village above? Would she dare search at night all alone?She had thought nothing of wandering the great estate of Collinwood alone and at night. In the Utah desert she ran the risk of encountering mountain lions and rattlesnakes combined with the architectural hazards of moving around an ancient site. Feeling the bruise on her arm she realized she feared encountering Richard more than all the others. How would he react if he caught her spying on him, would he harm her?
Thinking, Julia nervously rubbed her fingers over the flashlight. No, tonight she would only search the camp. Steeling herself, she inhaled deeply, stood, pulled her robe tightly around her and stepped out into the night. But first she would return the notes to the box and stood vigil outside his tent before she felt it safe to enter. Richard still had not returned.
For the next half hour Julia moved like a thief through the camp and found portions of the camp eerily deserted. The support staff sat in the glow of a lantern outside their tents laughing, talking and playing cards. The other research tents were labeled and empty. A quick glance through a fly revealed whether a tent was occupied or not. Carter was not in the camp.
Finishing her search, she found herself at the western end near the horse corral. The cottonwoods nearby provided ample shade during the hot mid-day sun and were now blocking the reflective light of the growing moon. The horses were hidden in deep shadows only their throaty knickers marked their presence as she approached. During an earlier break she had stopped by to rub their foreheads and soft muzzles. She could see why Ascencion was drawn to them. Switching the flashlight off, she stood in the shadows, her eyes gathering the dim light and felt their soft muzzles on her hands, and felt their ears move across her cheek. A white form slipped from the darkness and moved toward her. For a moment Julia froze before she heard a familiar voice.
"Senora Doctor," Ascension spoke softly.
"You startled me, Ascension." Julia laughed.
"Why do you not sleep?" he asked gently.
Julia did not answer immediately. How much should she confide in the young Mayan?
"Why do you worry, Senora Doctor?"
Julia reached out and affectionately touched the white sleeve of his tunic.
"Your mother must miss you tremendously?"
Ascension's white smile beamed in the shadows. The young boy remained quiet. Julia sighed.
"Have you seen Dr. Carter?"
"Not tonight," He answered, rubbing the forehead of one of the horses. "If you seek peace, Senora Doctor, a waterfall up the river, it is very nice."
"I'll remember that. Gracias."
Julia stared above at the remote end of the village nestled in the rock face. A flash of light swiftly swept over the rock face. Was she imagining things? In the darkness a flash of light was very noticeable. No, she had not been imagining, she had her answer.
"Gracias, Ascension. Good-night."
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Early in the morning Denis Summerlin stormed into the mess tent bypassing the coffee and entrées making a direct path to Herb and Julia.
"Herb! You've got to do something! This is outrageous!"
Osmund tried to remain calm as he placed his coffee cup on the table.
Denis suddenly looked down at Julia Hoffman.
"My sincerest apology, Ju-li-a, good morning."
"Denis, please sit down and tell me what's happened."
The professor pulled up a chair next to Julia and took a deep breath, trying to not appear like a maniac.
"I thought this site was ZST?"
Osmond looked toward Julia's puzzled face.
"ZST means Zero Site Trauma. Our effort is to explore and document this site with as little disturbance as possible. It seems we're having problems with this concept among our colleagues. What's happened now, Denis?"
Summerlin nervously folded and unfolded his fingers as he pursed his thin lips. "The wooden ceiling beams have been pulled down in the remote areas of the village for starters. The whole area has been ransacked, no regard for pottery, grinding stones, wooden timbers and other priceless artifacts. Who knows what lies beneath the debris? It's outrageous!" Denis was out of breath with indignation as he turned and looked sympathetically at Julia.
Julia could see the emotion in his eyes. Of course she knew why, she was linked with Richard Carter. Osmond and Summerlin tried to be professional by not mentioning Richard's name, but she knew. She knew the remote village area had been searched last night. The only question that remained was why?
Herb gripped his coffee cup with both hands and took a sip. Julia saw the worry in his face as he decided how to handle the situation. Osmund and Carter had almost come to blows the day before. Was Herbert ready to cross Richard again?
Herb gave a giant sigh. "I'll work on it Denis."
Denis Summerlin rose and stared down at Osmond. "This is getting old, Herb. This is getting very old. It's time we take action!"
He nodded as the irate professor stormed away.
"Damn." He muttered as he smoothed down his moustache and adjusted his round glasses. Julia understood too well the pressure Herb was feeling.
He looked up and met Julia's eyes.
"I could speak to him, Herb."
The professor became alarmed, leaned forward and whispered. "No Julia, I can take care of it."
She reached across the table and covered his hand and squeezed it, her voice firm and authoritative. "No Herb, I can take care of it."
"But Julia…."
"No! I insist!" Julia leaned back her chin elevated, her lower lip pushed out in a determined pout.
Herb couldn't help but watch the feisty physician with fascination. If Eliot were not his friend he would certainly pursue her with all gusto.
"You're one tough cookie."
"Thank you." Julia smiled coyly as she toyed with her coffee cup. "Where's Eliot?"
Herb seemed disappointed. "Eliot develops film late into the night. He won't be with us for another hour or two. I'm afraid I'll have to do for now."
Julia smiled sweetly, enjoying the last few moments before she would meet with Richard Carter.
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Julia walked through their research tent checking the equipment when Richard Carter and Agustin burst through the entrance carrying long wooden boxes.
"We have work for you, Dr. Hoffman!"
Julia was caught off guard by the sudden formality. Once Agustin had departed Richard crossed the room, pulled Julia from the chair and cheerfully swung her around the room.
"Julia!" he whispered as he held her close. "It's starting to come together."
She looked up into his face trying to determine the sudden change in mood.
"I hate to ask Richard, but what's starting to come together?"
Carter hesitated, "You know, the samples for your blood work."
Together they moved to the far end of the tent. Staring down into the wooden boxes Julia studied three skulls, three pelvises and an assortment of long bones, and ribs. In the corner of the box lay the bottom of an Anasazi bowl with a fractured opening in its base.
"Where did you find these?"
His arm slipped from around her waist as he carefully removed one of the skulls.
"Don't worry about that, Julia; I'll take care of those details."
The physician wasn't sure how she should proceed.
"But those details are important for our research."
Carter's long fingers rotated the small skull, his voice soft and fatherly. "I don't want you worrying about those details."
She reached out and took the skull from his hands and placed it back in the box.
"Richard, you have to understand that I do worry about those details. When we publish, all the details need to fit neatly in place."
He cleared his voice. "I'll bring my notes by so you might inspect them." He reached out and took her hands in his and guided her to sit in a chair. Julia was surprised when he bent on his knees in front of her, his arms circling her waist, his face against her chest. For a moment she wasn't sure how to react; then slowly she placed her arms around his shoulders.
"Julia." He whispered looking up at her. Her hands slipped to his face smoothing back his hair.
"Can't we go back? I want it to be like the first night, the night we became lovers. I want to feel like I did when you took me in your arms and held me."
Julia felt her lips quiver as she looked into his eyes recalling the moment and the longing they both felt.
"Why can't it be that way again?" he asked wistfully.
The physician stared into his eyes, noting the inflamed veins running through the sclera and noted how the margins of the iris near the pupil had light brown streaks spreading through the normally dark brown iris. Richard's eyes had changed since New York City, they were growing even lighter.
Richard became anxious under her scrutiny, his hand moved across her cheek.
Julia moistened her lips, and smiled faintly. "I'm afraid Richard that moment has come and gone."
Carter's eyes blinked rapidly, trying to fathom her response. Impulsively, he leaned forward and kissed her. She did not resist, nor did she return his kiss with equal passion. Richard seemed oblivious to her lack of enthusiasm. In his mind he still had hopes she would later come to his tent and spend the night with him.
Julia slipped from his arms and chair and moved to the wooden box and stood with her back to him.
"Richard, I'm puzzled, I've been reading about ZST. What does it mean?"
She heard rustling as Richard came to her side. He did not respond immediately.
"I thought someone of your experience and stature could help me." She innocently stated, playing to his vanity.
Richard cleared his voice slightly, "Well, Julia the archaeological purist believes a site should not be physically invaded. Even the most subtle and careful intrusion can ruin a site forever. Can you imagine the world of archaeology if my great uncle had not opened the seal to King Tut's tomb? What a loss?"
Julia's eyes narrowed. How unusual to hear Richard speak so proudly of Howard Carter. Why the sudden change? Did Richard feel confident he was on the verge of some discovery equal to his famous father and great uncle?
"What is the philosophy at this site, Richard? Are they ZST purist? I'm just curious."
She felt his hand slip around her waist. "Why so many questions?"
"Richard, you should know by now, I always ask questions. I'm a successful physician who has published many research papers. I need to know everything in preparation for our publication."
He was reluctant to answer. "They're not ZST purist, but on the other hand the artifacts will be carefully extracted and documented in order to recreate the Anasazi culture."
Julia turned to face Richard Carter and smiled. "That's good to know. We'll recreate the site map and document the location of the bones. I'll have Professor Stokes photograph them."
Carter's hand quickly withdrew from around her waist, his body stiffened.
"Stokes!"
Julia looked up at him. "Isn't he the site photographer?"
"He's not going to be my photographer!"
"Our photographer, Richard. He has the equipment and the expertise."
He walked to the far end of the tent. "I'm not having him involved do you understand!"
Julia's hands went to her hips, chin elevated. "This is not your decision to make alone. We need to do what is best for our research. If it involves his involvement so be it."
"We will see," Richard said over his shoulder as he left the tent.
The physician did not move, her mind mulling over their conversation. Why did Richard react that way when she mentioned Eliot would photograph their specimens? The suggestion was simple and logical, and yet Richard over-reacted. Was it part of his mood swings or was there more?
Osmond, Stokes and Carter attended Harvard at the same time. Julia's eyes narrowed to slits, her lower lip set in a determined pout. Perhaps there had been some professional jealousies or conflicts and thought of Eliot's confession of a romantic regret. Perhaps there had been other women involved in the triangle of men. Perhaps it was all of the above. She couldn't help but sigh. What a mess!
She turned and looked at the bones in the box. They too had their secrets, but not for long. She had work to do. In a few minutes Julia had slipped on an apron, a pair of latex gloves, and a jeweler's loop. The bones would be identified, tagged and a rough physical description written in her journal. Each bone was laid out on the table beneath the light. Turning the small skull over in her hands Julia felt a deep sadness. The skull and teeth revealed a young child of perhaps only 9 or 10 years of age. From the furrows over the brow and the shape of the pelvis she determined the child was female. The molars revealed much wear, and along the skull were deep gouges and scrapes. A four-centimeter circular hole had been cut in the back of the skull. Julia's fingers moved the pen rapidly across the paper, her eyes growing moist. Nervously she bit her lip. The other two skulls were similar in appearance. Tenderly she examined the long bones and ribs. The other skeletons appeared to be young girls as well. She had to stop and wipe her eyes. The bones were revealing their secrets.
Julia's pen poised above the paper, not sure how to describe how the young girls had died. The scrapes at the base of the skulls indicated the skull had been cut from the body with some primitive knife. The long bones and ribs were broken in sections. Peering deep inside the bones with the loop she could see more scrapes and gouges. The marrow inside had been carefully removed the same way many Native American tribes would remove the marrow from the bones of buffalo. She leaned back and inhaled deeply. It was very evident what had happened to these young girls, but why? Why were they beheaded and eaten? Where did Richard find them? Would he ever tell her? He had ways to postpone and evade many of her questions. She would have to find out for herself.
Julia thought of the hairs and bone inside the envelope. First she would need to close the entrance of the tent to slow Richard's re-entry into the tent giving her time to hide the specimens.
. Carefully she removed one of the hairs from the envelope and placed it on filter paper before sliding it on the platform of the stereomicroscope. The hair fiber was quite coarse, not typical of most Anglos, but very typical among the Native American tribes. What luck, a skin tag clung to the base of the hair. Julia prepared a test tube and a pair of fine tipped tweezers. She would begin her analysis. The answer would no doubt create more questions than answers, but it was a start.
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The photos were placed in neat rows across the drafting table. Eliot Stokes stood calmly before them, his arm folded across his chest while his other hand gently smoothing down his mustache. With methodical precision his eyes moved over each photo checking for quality and detail. He took his work seriously as the site photographer's work was like the thread that bound the pieces of the site together.
Nearing the finish, he sat down and relaxed, his mind began to wander, the vision of Julia reclining on the ladder floated through his mind. He closed and rubbed his eyes with his fingertips. Yes, this was the moment when he reloaded the camera and Julia arrived. Focus, Eliot, he told himself. Raising his eyes again, he examined the last photos. Now examine them for quality and form. He stood, moved closer; a detail caught his attention. His eyes scanned the area near the floor of the kiva. How strange, he had not noticed it before. Pulling out his monocle he slipped it over his eye and held the photo beneath the lamp. It was a small pictograph. Why was it near the floor, when all the other Anasazi petroglyphs were so high on the mural? Eliot's brow furrowed.
This was not an Anasazi petroglyph; this was something foreign but not unknown. Eliot stared off, thinking deeply, all sound disappeared. Where had he seen this form before? Yes. He remembered now, it was from his Mayan collection.
In his mind he thumbed through the pages, yes, he remembered. The symbol was the panther, a great Mayan symbol. But why was it near the floor, not elevated on the wall with the other symbols and who would have used a Mayan icon? He stared down at the photo again. There was another faint detail next to the panther. Eliot picked up the next exposure in hope the detail was more prominent. He pulled the photo closer. Yes, there it was…. a spiral. How Anasazi, a spiral was common among their symbols. It represented the cycles of life, the harmony of nature, the rising and setting of the sun, cycles of the moon, the seasons. Eliot rifled through his work box and retrieved a magnifier and moved the instrument, bringing the image into focus.
"Damn!" Eliot exclaimed under his breath, his hand dropping the magnifier to the table.
~~~tbc~~~