The Celestine Prophecy: An Adventure (12 page)

“I want to tell you something before we drive in there,” he said. “In spite of the energy of this forest, this town is a lot less civilized than other areas of Peru. It’s known as a place to get information about the Manuscript, but the last time I was here, it was full of greedy types who didn’t feel the energy and didn’t understand the insights. They merely wanted the money or recognition they might get by discovering the Ninth.”

I looked at the village. It consisted of four or five streets and avenues. Larger frame buildings lined the two main roads that crossed in the center of town, but the other streets were little more than alleyways lined by small dwellings. Parked at the cross-roads were perhaps a dozen off-the-road vehicles and trucks.

“Why are all these people here?” I asked.

He smiled daringly. “Because it’s one of the last places to get gas and supplies before going deeper into the mountains.”

He started the jeep and drove slowly into town, then stopped in front of one of the larger buildings. I couldn’t read the Spanish signs but from the products in the window I presumed it was a grocery and hardware.

“Wait here for a minute,” he said. “I want to go in for a few things.”

I nodded and Wil disappeared inside. As I looked around, a truck pulled up across the street and several people got out. One was a dark-haired woman in a fatigue jacket. To my amazement, I realized it was Marjorie. She and a young man in his early twenties crossed the street and walked right in front of me.

I opened my door and got out. “Marjorie,” I yelled.

She stopped and looked around, then saw me and smiled. “Hello,” she said. As she began to walk toward me, the young man grabbed her arm.

“Robert told us not to talk with anyone,” he said very softly, trying not to let me overhear.

“It’s okay,” she said, “I know this person. Go on in.”

He looked at me skeptically, then backed away and went into the store. I tried then, in a stuttering way, to explain what had happened between us at the gardens. She laughed, and told me Sarah had related everything to her. She was about to say something else when Wil walked out with a handful of supplies.

I introduced them, and we all talked for a few minutes as Wil placed the supplies in the back of the jeep.

“I have an idea,” Wil said. “Let’s get something else to eat across the street.”

I looked over at what appeared to be a small cafe. “Sounds good to me,” I said.

“I don’t know,” Marjorie said. “I need to leave soon. My ride.”

“Where are you going?” I asked.

“Back to the west a couple of miles. I’ve come up to visit a group studying the Manuscript.”

“We can take you back later, after dinner,” Wil commented.

“Well, I guess that will be okay.”

Wil looked at me, “I have one more thing to pick up. You two go ahead and order and I’ll order something when I get there. I’ll only be a few minutes.”

We agreed, and Marjorie and I waited as several trucks passed. Wil walked down the street to the south. Suddenly the young man with whom Marjorie had arrived walked out of the store and confronted us again.

“Where are you going?” he said, holding her arm.

“This is a friend of mine,” she replied. “We’re going to eat and then he can run me back later.”

“Look, you can’t trust anyone up here. You know Robert wouldn’t approve.”

“It’s okay,” she said.

“I want you to come with me, now!”

I took his arm and pulled it off Marjorie. “You heard what she told you,” I said. He stepped back and looked at me, suddenly appearing very timid. He turned and walked back into the store.

“Let’s go,” I said.

We walked across the street and into the small diner. The eating area consisted of one room and just eight tables and was permeated with the smell of grease and smoke. I spotted an unoccupied table on the left. As we walked over, several people glanced up at us for an instant, then returned to what they were doing.

The waitress spoke only Spanish, but Marjorie knew the language well and ordered for us both. Afterward, Marjorie looked at me warmly.

I grinned at her. “Who is that guy you were with?”

“That’s Kenny,” she said. “I don’t know what’s wrong with him. Thanks for helping.”

She was looking directly into my eyes, and her comment made me feel wonderful. “How did you get connected with that group?” I asked.

“Robert Jensen is an archaeologist. He’s formed a group to study the Manuscript and to search for the Ninth Insight. He came by Viciente a few weeks back, then again a couple of days ago… I …”

“What?” I asked.

“Well, I was in a relationship at Viciente that I wanted to get away from. Then I met Robert and he was so charming and what he was doing seemed so interesting. He convinced me that our research at the gardens would be enhanced by the Ninth Insight, and that he was on his way to find it. He said searching for this insight would be the most exciting thing he has ever done, and when he offered me a place on his team for a few months I decided to accept…” She paused again and looked down at the table. She appeared uncomfortable so I changed the subject.

“How many of the insights have you read?”

“Only the one I saw at Viciente. Robert has some others but he believes people have to rid themselves of their traditional beliefs before they can understand them. He says he would rather they learn the key concepts from him.”

I must have frowned because she added: “You don’t like that much, do you?”

“It sounds suspicious,” I said.

She looked at me intensely again. “I wondered about it too. Maybe when you take me back, you can talk with him and tell me what you think.”

The waitress arrived and brought our food, and as she was walking away, I saw Wil come in the door. He walked quickly to our table.

“I’ve got to meet some people about a mile north of here,” he said. “I’ll be gone about two hours. Take the jeep and take Marjorie back. I’m riding with someone else.” He shot me a smile. “We can meet back here.”

The thought came to me to tell him about Robert Jensen but I decided against it.

“Okay,” I said.

He looked at Marjorie. “Nice to have met you. Wish I had time to stay and talk.”

She looked at him with her coy expression. “Maybe some other time.”

He nodded, handed me the keys, and walked away.

Marjorie ate for a few minutes, then said: “He seems like a man with a purpose. How did you meet him?”

I told her in detail of my experiences upon first arriving in Peru. As I talked, she listened intently. So intently, in fact, that I found myself telling the story with great ease and expressing the dramatic turns and episodes with insight and true flair. She seemed spell-bound, hanging on every word.

“Goodness,” she said at one point, “do you think you’re in danger?”

“No, I don’t think so,” I said. “Not this far from Lima.”

She was still looking at me expectantly, so while we finished eating I briefly summarized the events at Viciente up to the point where Sarah and I had arrived at the gardens.

“That’s where I met you,” I said, “and you ran off.”

“Oh, it wasn’t like that,” she said. “I just didn’t know you, and when I saw your feelings, I thought it was best to leave.”

“Well, I apologize,” I said chuckling, “for letting my energy get out of hand.”

She looked at her watch. “I guess I should be getting back. They’ll be wondering about me.”

I left enough money for the bill and we walked outside to Wil’s jeep. The night was chilly and we could see a trace of our breath. As we got in, she said, “Head back north on this road. I’ll tell you when to turn.”

I nodded, and made a quick u-turn in the street and headed that way.

“Tell me more about this farm we’re going to,” I said.

“I think Robert rents it. Apparently his group has been using it for a long time while he has studied the insights. Since I’ve been there everyone has been assembling supplies, and readying the vehicles, things like that. Some of his men seem very rough.”

“Why did he invite you along?” I asked.

“He said he wanted a person who could help interpret the last insight, once we found it. At least that’s what he said back at Viciente. Here he has only talked about supplies and helping to prepare for the trip.”

“Where is he planning to go?”

“I don’t know,” she replied. “He never answers me when I ask.”

After about a mile and a half, she pointed out a turn to the left onto a narrow, rocky road. It meandered up a ridge and down into a flat valley. Ahead was a farmhouse made of rough planking. Behind it were several barns and outbuildings. Three llamas peered at us from a fenced pasture.

As we slowed to a stop, several people walked around a vehicle and stared without smiling. I noticed a gas powered, electric generator humming at the side of the house. Then the door opened and a tall, dark-haired man with strong, lean features walked toward us.

“That’s Robert,” Marjorie said.

“Good,” I said, still feeling strong and confident.

We got out as Jensen walked up to us. He looked at Marjorie.

“I was worried about you,” he said. “I understand you ran into a friend.”

I introduced myself and he shook my hand firmly.

“I’m Robert Jensen,” he said. “Glad you two are all right. Come in.”

Inside several people busied themselves with supplies. One carried a tent and camping gear toward the back. Through the dining room, I noticed two Peruvian women in the kitchen, packing food. Jensen sat in one of the chairs in the living room and directed us to two others.

“Why did you say you were glad we were all right?” I asked.

He bent toward me and asked in a sincere tone, “How long have you been in this area?”

“Only since this afternoon.”

“Then you couldn’t know how dangerous it is here. People are disappearing. Have you heard of the Manuscript, of the missing Ninth Insight?”

“Yes, I have. In fact…”

“Then you need to know what’s going on,” he interrupted. “The search for the last insight is getting ugly. There are dangerous people involved in this.”

“Who?” I asked.

“People who don’t care about the archaeological value of this discovery at all. People who just want the insight for their own purposes.”

A huge man with a beard and paunch interrupted the conversation and showed Jensen a list. They discussed something briefly in Spanish.

Jensen looked at me again. “Are you here to find the missing insight too?” he asked. “Do you have any idea what you’re getting into?”

I felt awkward and had difficulty expressing myself. “Well…I’m mainly interested in finding out more about the entire Manuscript. I haven’t seen that much of it yet.”

He straightened in his chair, then said: “Do you realize that the Manuscript is a state artifact and that copies of it have been made illegal except by permit?”

“Yes, but some scientists disagree with that. They feel the government is suppressing new…”

“Don’t you think the nation of Peru has the right to control its own archaeological treasures? Does the government know that you’re in this country?”

I didn’t know what to say—the surge of anxiety in my stomach was back.

“Look, don’t get me wrong,” he said, smiling. “I’m on your side. If you have some sort of academic support from outside the country, then tell me. But I get the feeling you’re just floating around.”

“Something like that,” I said.

I noticed Marjorie’s focus had shifted from me to Jensen. “What do you think he should do?” she asked.

Jensen stood up and smiled. “I could perhaps work you into a position with us here. We need more people. Where we are going is relatively safe, I think. And you could find some avenues home along the way if things didn’t work out.”

He looked at me closely. “But you’ll have to be willing to do exactly as I say, every step of the way.”

I glanced over at Marjorie. She was still looking at Jensen. I felt confused. Perhaps I should consider Jensen’s offer, I thought. If he was in good standing with the government then this might be the only opportunity I had for a legitimate way back to the states. Perhaps I had been fooling myself. Perhaps Jensen was right and I was in way over my head.

“I think you should consider what Robert is saying,” Marjorie commented. “It’s too frightening out there alone.”

Though I knew she might be correct, I still had faith in Wil, in what we were doing. I wanted to express this thought but when I tried to speak, I found I couldn’t formulate the words. I could no longer think clearly.

Suddenly the large man walked into the room again and looked out the window. Jensen was quickly up and looking, then he turned to Marjorie and in a casual tone said, “Someone is coming. Go ask Kenny to come up here, please.”

She nodded and left. Through the window I could see truck lights approaching. The vehicle parked just outside the fence, fifty feet away.

Jensen opened the door and as he did, I heard my name mentioned outside.

“Who is that?” I asked.

Jensen looked at me sharply. “Be very quiet,” he said. He and the large man walked outside and pulled the door closed. Through the window I could see a lone figure silhouetted behind the truck’s lights. My first impulse was to stay inside. Jensen’s assessment of my situation had filled me with foreboding. But something about the person by the truck seemed familiar. I opened the door and walked outside. As soon as Jensen saw me, he quickly turned and walked my way.

“What are you doing? Go back inside.”

Above the generator I thought I heard my name again.

“Go back inside, now!” Jensen said. “It could be a trap.” He was standing directly in front of me, blocking my view of the vehicle. “Go back inside now!”

I felt totally confused and panicked, unable to make a decision. Then the figure behind the lights walked closer and I could see his form around Jensen’s body. Distinctly I heard: “… come here, I need to talk with you!” Then as the figure approached, my head cleared and I realized that it was Wil. I rushed past Jensen.

“What was wrong with you?” Wil asked quickly. “We need to get out of here.”