Seated at the head of the fire was Miriam Rodgers.
At her right was her assistant, Joseph Solares. Both sat cross-legged on the cool ground, their stares focused deep into the burning embers. Taking her last sip of deep, rich coffee, Miriam shook her head angrily.
“You know, I still can’t believe that the colonel didn’t have the courtesy to speak to me on the phone.
Why, his aide wouldn’t even bother contacting him.”
Joseph shrugged his shoulders.
“I still think that you’re silly to let this bother you, Boss. The colonel’s a busy man. He must have a damn good reason to want us off the ridge.”
“At least he could share it with me,” returned Miriam.
“If we’re going to be secluded here much longer, perhaps we should be looking for another dig site.”
The crackling flames emphasized Joseph’s sharp cheekbones as his eyes narrowed.
“You’re not thinking of abandoning the ridge now, Boss? Why, it’s just starting to get interesting.”
Miriam sighed.
“I’m afraid that decision has already been made for us.”
Not liking her tone, Joseph caught her glance directly.
“That doesn’t sound like the lady who practically moved a mountain to get us here in the first place. At least give the Air Force a couple of days before even thinking of pulling us off of Tranquillon.
That site is just too promising.”
As if to emphasize this observation, a young girl’s voice came from behind them.
“Excuse me, Professor Rodgers, but we’ve completed the initial cleaning of this morning’s find. Would you like to have a look?”
“Why, of course, Margaret,” replied Miriam.
“Bring it by the fire.”
With the help of a muscular coworker, the skinny brunette guided the precious artifact to the fire’s side.
There the bowl took on a drastically new character.
Gone was both the net and the layer of dried mud that had covered its surface before. In their place was a shiny, dark gray stone surface, polished smooth by hundreds of hours of patient craftsmanship. Unable to take her eyes off the series of sparkling penta grams that lay embedded in the bowl’s upper lip, Miriam felt her spirits lighten.
“Why, you did an excellent job, Margaret. It’s positively breathtaking!”
“Oh, it wasn’t just me,” responded the blushing sophomore.
“Each one of us had a hand in the cleaning.”
“I’ll say,” said the muscular lad who had helped carry out the artifact.
“Why, I almost scraped the skin off of my hands cleaning off the dirt from the bottom. It was as hard as a rock.”
“What do you expect after five hundred years?” asked Joseph lightly.
“Does this bowl really have something to do with the dead?” queried the inquisitive male undergraduate.
Before answering, Joseph looked to Miriam. Only after receiving a positive nod did he continue.
“From what we know of the design etched into its surface, this piece certainly looks like an authentic spirit bowl. Yet if it is, it’s the first one to be uncovered.”
“Why is it called a spirit bowl?” questioned Margaret.
Again, Joseph looked toward Miriam before responding.
“Most of you know the Chumash legend of the soul’s journey to Similaqsa. It tells us of their belief that, three days after a person has died and been buried, the soul comes up out of the grave to wander the world, visiting the places it used to frequent in life. On the fifth day after death, the soul is drawn to an isolated coastal spot, rumored to be somewhere near Point Arguello. There it prepares for the final trip to Similaqsa, the Chumash version of heaven and hell.
“Though it was all thought to be mere storytelling, the elders told of a magical spirit bowl inbued with the power to draw the soul to this final earthly portal.
Buried on the coastline, this relic would divert the soul to a hand-cut royal road. Following this route westward, the deceased would come to a temple, formed from a circle of enchanted charm stones Only after positioning itself in the exact axis of this circle would the soul be free to soar westward. I believe our esteemed leader beside me is better qualified to tell us just what awaits the soul in this other land.”
Taking this cue, Miriam sat forward and, well aware of the total attention of her rapt audience, continued.
“Before reaching the gates to Similaqsa, the soul had to pass a variety of tests, to make certain that it was still not alive. This included crossing through a valley of pounding rocks, and surviving an attack by a number of grotesque monsters. Just beyond the land of these beasts was the body of water that separated this world from the next. Spanning this liquid void was a single narrow bridge. Pity the poor souls of those that had done evil in their mortal lives, for they would be diverted into the waters to be transformed for all eternity into mutant, snakelike creatures. Yet those who did good in their lives could fear no punishment, for they would be led safely over the bridge and past the gates of Similaqsa. There they would live for all eternity, to wander in a blissful paradise free from mortal want.”
With the conclusion of these words, a moment of pure silence followed. All of those present kept then-thoughts to themselves, as all eyes remained glued to the blazing fire. As the flames crackled and hissed, the howl of the night wind rose in the distance.
Beyond this sounded the crash of breaking surf. The spell was only broken when a far-off metallic tone permeated the night air.
“It’s the southbound freight train right on schedule,” offered Bobby Whitten, the group’s comedian.
“I wonder what that engineer would have to say if he knew that he was guiding his train smack through a doorway to the afterlife.”
Though the majority of those present laughed at this comment, two of them took it quite seriously.
Catching Miriam’s look of concern, Joseph expressed himself in a whisper, so that only she could hear him.
“You know, Bobby could be very well onto something.
If we have indeed stumbled upon the portal to Similaqsa here in Vandenberg, the elders would be far from pleased. To defile this most sacred of spots with weapons of war would be a sin of the greatest degree possible. I seriously doubt that the judgment of the gods would be very favorable in our behalf.”
Taking in these ominous words, Miriam shifted her gaze from the fire to the heavens above. A rare, crystal-clear evening sky was visible overhead. After easily picking out the Big Dipper, she looked on as a series of shooting stars streamed through the Dipper’s interior. Most aware of how little they knew of the mysterious workings of the vast universe that surrounded them, Miriam anxiously shivered. Feeling small and alone, she stifled a yawn, and knew without looking at her watch that it was well past time to douse the campfire and send her crew off to their sleeping bags. For the dawn would all too soon be upon them, and once again they would have an ample opportunity to work on a solution to this greatest of all mysteries.
Six and half hours later, the first member of the team awoke to the distant cry of a hungry gull. It was as the twenty-year-old sophomore went to put on his morning coffee that his sleep-laden eyes wandered to the tiny trailer’s only window. Outside, Coast Road was barely visible in the morning mist. Occupying its usually vacant length was a long line of vehicles, most of which had flashing red beacons on their roofs. All of this traffic seemed to be moving slowly to the south. Well aware that something unusual was occurring, he hurriedly pulled on his jeans and sprinted off to awaken Joseph Solares.
As he expected, the teaching assistant didn’t mind this early wake-up call in the least. Scurrying from his bed, the broad-shouldered Indian took in the line of traffic still visible on the road and whistled appreciatively.