The Twelve (18 page)

Colliding Forces

May 2012

C
RASH!

The sound of metal against metal was inescapable.

Max had been talking on his hands-free cell phone, closing a film deal and hadn't been paying attention. He was actually stopped at a traffic light at the corner of La Brea and Citrus avenues in Los Angeles, waiting to make a left-hand turn, so technically the accident wasn't his fault.

The car in front of him had pulled out to make its own left turn, and realizing she was caught in a no-man's-zone as the light changed, the driver backed up without realizing that Max had pulled up to the edge of the intersection.

Max closed the deal on the phone and got out of his BMW to check on the damage. There were a few scratches on his front fender and a broken front light, but he was relieved it wasn't worse.

The SUV that had backed into him did not have a scratch. The woman who had been driving it got out of her vehicle to assess the damage and saw that her car was fine. She turned to Max, who just waved her off.

“Doesn't seem like much damage, and it's hardly worth reporting to the insurance company,” he said amicably. “Your car seems fine, so from my perspective it's ‘no harm, no foul.'”

Realizing she was off the hook, the woman didn't hesitate, jumped into her SUV, and drove off. Max was able to make his next meeting, and it wasn't until he was back in Dana Point that he realized he had a large dent in the front of the car that he hadn't noticed before, and he could no longer operate the hood release to gain access to the engine.

This wasn't his first fender bender, and he had discovered a company called Dents R Us, which would send out a fully equipped truck to fix the car on the spot. Max made the call, and they scheduled a repair for the next day, which happened to be a Saturday.

Around 11:00 the next morning the Dents R Us repair truck pulled up. The driver, whose name was Juan, assessed the damage, quoted $800 to make the car look like new, and as soon as Max agreed he got to work. By 2:00 in the afternoon he rang the bell and showed Max a totally repaired BMW.

They chatted while Max examined his handiwork. Juan was from Mexico, and since Max spoke Spanish, they were able to converse casually. Max had to explain that he didn't keep cash on hand, and the bank was closed, so he would have to pay with a company check. Juan said he would have to get permission to accept a check, but couldn't call it in until Monday.

“No es problema. Yo vuelvo el lunes por la manana y lo podemos arreglar entonces. AquÌ tiene mi tarjeta si tienes que cambiar la hora el lunes,” Juan said, and he handed Max his card.

There, below the Dents R Us logo, was his name.

JUAN GONZALO ACOSTA

Max looked at the dark-haired, slender man standing in front of him and realized that Juan was wearing an indigo shirt. That was the color Max had seen around Juan's name during his near-death experience. Eight years since the last such encounter—a time that had seemed like forever—Max had finally found the owner of the ninth name on the list.

He immediately invited Juan into the house for a beer. He asked where he had been born, if he was married, how he came to be in the United States, and dozens of other questions.

Juan was delighted to accept the beer, and after a few moments of trepidation at all of the questions, he seemed comfortable, though curious, at why Max had taken such a sudden interest in him.

Juan was from a small town called Izapa, in southern Mexico just eighty kilometers north of the border with Guatemala, on the Gulf Coast. He was the youngest of seven children. His father had a small farm and was also a daykeeper—a sacred spiritual shaman in the ancient Mayan tradition. He was married and had two small children.

He had been in the United States for only two years but had been able to secure a green card and was proud that he was able to make enough money repairing dents, not only to take care of his growing family, but to send money back every month to support his father and brothers. His mother had died a few months before he had come to the United States, and he knew how hard his father and brothers had to work to support themselves.

“My father is poor, but he is an important man in Izapa,” Juan explained. “He is not only a daykeeper, but also the custodian of the ancient ceremonial ballpark in Izapa. It is believed that this ancient ballpark is the oldest in all of Mexico. It has fallen into disrepair, but it still has several statues with carved messages, which archeologists from all over the world have come to study.

“Many believe that this ancient ballpark is the place where the long count Mayan calendar was first conceived.”

Max had heard about the Mayan calendar but never explored it in detail.

“Is the Mayan calendar the one that has the world ending in 2012
?
” he asked.

“That is the common misinterpretation of the calendar,” Juan acknowledged. “We believe the world will change when the calendar ends, but the world itself will not end.

“December 21, 2012, will mark the end of a twenty-six-thousand-year-long cycle. The ancients did not predict that this would necessarily be the end of the world. Our ancient beliefs are that human beings have free will, and there is the opportunity for a change that could create a better world yet to come.

“Such are the teachings I have learned from my father.”

Max was intrigued. Finally, one of the Twelve was expressing knowledge that might be linked to a higher concept that might lead to an explanation of their purpose.

Of his purpose.

Things began to fit together. Max had been born on December 12, or 12/12, and his father on November 11, or 11/11.

Was his life's purpose somehow linked to the 2012 prophecy
?

Based in part on what he had learned from Dr. Cho Sun Pak, he started to calculate the numerology of his father's birthday, keeping in mind some of the dates he had just learned from Juan, pertaining to the Mayan calendar. Juan said he had heard about something called a “harmonic convergence,” which had occurred on August 16 and 17, 1987, introducing the final twenty-five years of the Mayan calendar, and for the first time Max started to see a pattern emerging.

Recognizing that Juan's background would cause him to accept what others might see as fantastic, Max described his near-death experience and revealed to Juan that he was one of the twelve names.

Sure enough, Juan just raised his beer bottle and nodded.

“This does not surprise me,” he said. “My father told me our family had an important role to play in the fulfillment of the ancient prophecies. He would always say, ‘The world is vast and strange and full of mysteries. Do not doubt, even in our humble circumstances, that you have an important role to play in this mystery called life.'”

Once again, the words of Jane Doff echoed in Max's head. He was intrigued by this latest connection and wanted to meet Juan's father.

“Let me know when you will next be returning to Izapa,” he said earnestly. “I want to meet your father and learn more about the prophesied end-times.”

“Thus it shall be, my friend,” Juan replied. “I am glad you crashed your car. This has been a most auspicious meeting.”

Into the Sunset

May 2012

M
AX STOOD ON THE EIGHTEENTH TEE AT LA COSTA. THE SUN WAS
setting as he powered his drive toward the left-hand side of the fairway, and at the last moment he noticed that there was a golfer in the left rough, just off the fairway about two hundred and thirty yards out.

Max's normal drive only went about two hundred yards, so the golfer wouldn't have normally been in jeopardy. But this was one of the best drives of Max's life—it traveled two hundred and twenty yards on a fly, hit, and rolled another twenty yards, passing the golfer in the rough.

“Wow,” exclaimed his golfing partner Kim. “That came close.”

“We'd better apologize,” Max said.

As Max approached in his golf cart, with apology written all over his face, a tall African-American man wearing emerald green trousers, turned and smiled.

“Didn't even come close,” he said. “No worries. My motto is ‘chill,' and that's also my name. I'm Chill Campister.”

“Well, Chill, thanks for being so gracious,” Max said gratefully. “I really should have looked more carefully before teeing off. And if you're not too busy, let me buy you a drink in the clubhouse after this hole.”

“Done deal. Make your par.”

***

Later at the bar, after Max introduced himself, he learned that Chill Campister had become somewhat well known because he had, along with his wife Rachel, won The Amazing Race, a popular television reality show. With the million-dollar prize money, he had decided to take early retirement and go back to school to study filmmaking. Chill told Max that he had been an actor in his youth and had played the young Cassius Clay in I Am the Greatest, the documentary film about Mohammed Ali.

Max was bowled over, not because of what Chill was telling him, but because Max realized that Chill Campister was the tenth of the twelve names.

Whatever's going on, he mused, it's accelerating.

In just two days, Max had met numbers nine and ten of the Twelve, when it had taken years for him to meet the others. He wasn't sure how to react, but because there were other golfers close by, he didn't feel comfortable revealing the story of the Twelve.

So he kept his cool.

He also learned that Chill had written a treatment for a motivational film, based on what he and his wife Rachel had experienced in winning The Amazing Race. When Max revealed that he owned a film company and said that he would be willing to review the project, Chill was thrilled.

But Max had an ulterior motive. Once he had read the treatment, he felt he could continue his discussion with Chill in private and uncover more of the secrets of the Twelve.

***

Max liked the treatment and felt he would be able to sell it based on the recognition Rachel and Chill had received as very popular winners of the television show. They were the first African-American couple to win the contest, and at the time they had competed, they were also the oldest.

One of the qualities that came through in the treatment was their strong faith in Jesus. Even on the air, they had never quarreled the way other teams did during the stress of competition, and in their motivational film they wanted to emphasize that faith had been their secret weapon.

Since the show, they had embarked on speaking tours and become popular motivational speakers putting forth the theme of using faith and teamwork to accomplish miracles.

Everything they were doing, Max knew, would provide them with a solid platform for a film, a book, and many other materials they might want to develop. So he set up a meeting with both Chill and Rachel in his office and was impressed with their positive and upbeat approach to life. They genuinely exuded love and kindness. They told him even more of their story, and Max learned that at the time they won The Amazing Race, they were on the verge of bankruptcy. Money had been embezzled from a software company Chill had formed years earlier, and if they hadn't won the television contest, they would have lost their home and all their possessions.

Max felt as if he had never met a nicer couple, and he invited them both to dinner. They ate at the Chart House Restaurant, looking out over the sea at sunset, and as the evening progressed, Max revealed the story of the twelve names and told Chill that he was the tenth name on the list.

“I still have no idea what the names are all about, but something is heating up,” he said. “I know it must sound fairly strange to you, but believe me, I'm not crazy. There's got to be a reason for all of this. I only wish I knew what it was.”

Chill smiled as he responded to what Max had told him.

“The Lord works in mysterious ways,” he replied. “As a born-again Christian, I am certain Jesus has brought us together. I see His work in this. Why else would you happen to hit one of the longest drives of your life—right at me
?
” They all laughed at that.

“But I was born Jewish,” Max countered. “I'm not sure I even believe in Jesus.” He talked about all of the superficial people he had met when working on the film In Search of the Historical Jesus, and both Chill and Rachel nodded.

“Jesus is the savior for all peoples,” Rachel said, “not just those who believe in Him.”

“Absolutely,” Chill agreed. Then he pointed the conversation back in a more analytical direction. “But let's focus on what you experienced and how these names might be connected. Maybe Jesus has something to do with it and maybe he doesn't, but the bottom line is that there are no coincidences—it's all part of a plan.

“So if there is a list of twelve names, as you say—and I have no reason to doubt you—then I want to know why I am on it.”

Chill went on to tell Max that in addition to their winnings, he and Rachel had recently been awarded a judgment against their former partner who had embezzled the funds from their software company.

“As a result,” he said, “I have the time and means to assist you in solving this mystery. Just tell me how I can help.”

Max was relieved to hear that Chill was open to an explanation that might not include Jesus. He was also grateful for the offer of assistance.

“I have to go to New York for the documentary and training film trade show next week,” he said. “But when I return, let's get together and focus on solving the puzzle of the Twelve. Perhaps we can organize a trip with Juan to Izapa, Mexico.

“I don't know why, but I think Izapa may be one of the keys to this mystery.”