“Healing water.” Owen said. “Like Ponce de Leòn’s Fountain of Youth?”
“Yes, exactly.”
“And it was real?”
The old man lowered his chin to look over his glasses and smiled. “Yes,” he whispered.
“You’re serious, aren’t you?”
“Dead serious.”
“But how?” Owen prodded. “How can that be possible?”
“That I cannot answer, but we did witness its healing power in person, with our own eyes.”
Owen said nothing, only stared back at his grandpa in amazed skepticism.
Stephenson gave him a comforting grin then said, “Believe it or not there’s actually more to the story.”
“More than that?”
“Yes,” Stephenson said, grinning bigger, making no attempt to hide the fact that he was gleaning sadistic enjoyment from watching his grandson’s flabbergasted reactions. “But you need to hear it from the beginning. So here goes.”
Owen, still half dazed, swallowed hard. For the first time, he seriously wondered if his grandpa was turning senile.
“The original plan,” Stephenson began, “for observing this pool, as laid out by the village leader, which we paid a hefty sum of money to participate in, was for the two of us to be blindfolded during the foot travel to the entrance of the secret site, to view the pool briefly at a distance and then be led, blindfolded, back to the village. And that was all, which we did. And to be honest, the whole scene was rather unremarkable. The viewing only lasted a couple of minutes, and from what I could tell it looked like a small pothole filled with brackish water. I thought we’d been taken to the cleaners by a slick con artist, but luckily the story didn’t end there.”
“A hefty sum of money for a couple minutes viewing, I’d have thought the same thing,” Owen commented. “So, what happened next?”
“When we returned to the village we were treated as royalty by the villagers. After a huge feast, we spent time sharing strangely concocted tribal drinks and something comparable to a Native American peace pipe with the Chief Medicine Man. To show appreciation for the village’s hospitality, we entertained the Chief with a few “magic” tricks using a deck of playing cards the Colonel always kept handy. We also produced fire from a hand-held lighter and made shadow animals on the wall from the light from one of our flashlights.”
Owen laughed and patted his grandpa on the shoulder. “I don’t imagine they’d ever seen shadow animals on a wall before. Did you ever feel threatened by the natives?”
“No. They were all very hospitable. I think they were just as curious about us as we were about them. In fact, at breakfast the next morning, we learned that the Chief Medicine Man had been so thrilled with our company, and “magic,” from the night before that he had insisted for us to stay a second night to witness a special village ceremony involving the pool. Without hesitation we accepted and, just as before, when the time came we were blindfolded and led into the jungle, but this time we were accompanied by a host of would-be celebrating villagers. When we reached the staging area at dusk, our blindfolds were removed. We were surrounded by the jungle but standing at the edge of a heavily guarded, thick row of trees and brush. As if on cue, several villagers wearing black and white, zebra striped body paint parted dozens of gigantic, overlapping tropical leaves to reveal a cleverly hidden entrance that was naturally camouflaged by the jungle. Just past the entrance lay a huge concave depression, bare from any vegetation, roughly fifty yards in diameter and twenty-five yards deep containing a gleaming pool of water at the bottom. The lack of vegetation in and around the depression offered a perfect view of the night sky. Several large fire torches blazed around the circumference of the open cavity. Torches also circled the pool and lined both sides of a set of old wooden steps descending down from atop a small cliff leading to the edge of the water. While drums beat and village people chanted in the background my friend and I were escorted to a front row seat by four stoic spear-toting tribesmen. Thinking back on it now, it was extremely reminiscent of the sacrificial scene in the King Kong movies.”
“That sounds exciting!” Owen said, no longer seeming bothered by the story’s absurdity.
Stephenson held up his hand. “It was exciting,” he said. “But that’s not the half of it. For the ceremony portion of the evening they led a village elder; a frail and haggard looking woman down the steps to the edge of the pool.”
Owen leaned forward, his eyes were as big as saucers. “What happened next?” he asked.
“She jumped,” Stephenson said.
“What? Into the pool? Like a sacrifice?”
“Yes, into the pool. But not as a sacrifice, as a recipient. A recipient of revival. We found out later that the woman was dying from disease. The drums and torches and chanting were not performed as part of a run-of-the-mill show we had witnessed the first night but were part of the rejuvenation ceremony in celebration of her rebirth.”
Before Owen could respond the stewardess arrived with their beverages.
“Here you are gentlemen. Would you like cream or sugar, sir?”
“No thank you. This will do fine.”
“All right. I’ll be back to check on you shortly,” she said, disappearing down the aisle.
“Okay, Grandpa, continue your story. What happened to the woman?”
“When she jumped, it was scary to watch. One second she was there, the next she was gone. It seemed as if she stayed under the water for an eternity, but in reality it was probably only about thirty seconds or so. Anyway, while she was under, the Colonel and I exchanged glances like the one you gave me earlier wondering what we had gotten ourselves into. When she finally rose, or I should say when she “propelled”, out of the water and landed onto the platform beside the pool she looked like a thirty or forty-year younger version of herself.”
Owen gawked as though he couldn’t believe his ears. He just stared back at his grandpa, unable to close his mouth.
“The pool completely revived her youth,” Stephenson said.
“That’s unbelievable!” Owen said.
“Yes, it was. And if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes I wouldn’t have believed it. But what happened next seemed just as strange, and it’s something I still don’t understand until this day.”
“What was that?” Owen asked, literally sitting on the edge of his seat.
“As soon as she landed onto the platform, two villagers grabbed hold of her, one on each arm, and shackled her to a wooden post beside the platform. For several minutes she stood, statue still, with her head down as though she were resting or asleep. Then, without warning, she began violently jerking her arms back and forth as if trying to escape from the shackles and shrieking at the top of her lungs. The fit didn’t last long. Soon after, she collapsed and we were lead away, again in blindfolds, and returned to the village. To this day I still don’t know what became of that woman, but I do know that the “healing pool” of water made her young again.”
“That’s incredible! I’m almost afraid to ask why we’re returning there now,” Owen said.
“That’s an even more interesting story for later. Right now, we need to get a little shut-eye. We both have a big day ahead of us.”
Owen gazed out the window admiring the moonlit clouds until he heard a gentle snore coming from his grandpa. How am I supposed to sleep after an outrageous story like that?
Chapter 4
Bright and early the next morning Finn pulled up in front of Andria’s rented townhouse and beeped the horn. A minute later Andria came rushing out the front door, bags in hand. She turned and used her foot to close the door behind her. When she reached the car, she opened the back door and tossed in her luggage then plopped down in the front seat.