The Twelve (9 page)

It Starts with Love

June 1973

M
AX GOT OFF THE PLANE IN TRUJILLO AND TOOK A TAXI TO THE
local hotel. Although the largest city in northern Peru, Trujillo was still recovering from the earthquake and had only one major luxury hotel.

Upon check-in Max revealed his mission to the hotel clerk, whose name was Jose, and asked how far it was to the ancient pyramid and ruins. Jose was only too happy to help, and soon a taxi was waiting to take Max to scout the Huaca de la Luna—or Temple of the Moon—pyramid.

While touring this massive and mysterious structure, just two and a half miles outside of the city, Max was approached by several “amateur archeologists” who offered to sell him ancient relics and sculptures. And the pyramid itself, while impressive for its elaborate murals, did not contain secrets significant for the chosen Von Daniken storyline.

Upon his return to the hotel, he found a dark-haired and energetic young man waiting for him. The fellow introduced himself as Eduardo and explained that he worked for the local television station.

“We have never had a U.S. film crew come to Trujillo, except for the earthquake coverage, and we would like to interview you,” he announced.

Max was honest with Eduardo and told him that it wasn't certain that filming would take place in Trujillo. However, the eager young TV reporter didn't seem to care too much about that, and he departed to fetch his film crew.

Max had to assume that it was a slow news week.

Minutes later Eduardo returned accompanied by his cameraman, Reginaldo, and the most beautiful and captivating woman Max had ever seen.

Her name was Maria, and she was twenty years old, slim, with dark hair and deep brown eyes. She had an easy and vibrant smile and an intensity of focus that was almost disconcerting.

Maria was dressed simply in a silver blouse and slacks. She was the production assistant on the news show, Eduardo explained, and did a little bit of everything. She smiled at Max and seemed as intrigued with him as he was with her.

After the interview had been completed, she left with Reginaldo and Eduardo. Moments later, however, she returned to ask Max to write out his name, the name of the production company, and some of the other details he had mentioned during his interview. After getting the needed information she turned to go and then suddenly stopped and looked at Max.

“Are you here alone
?
” she asked him, and his heart leaped in his chest. “Would you like some company for dinner
?
I know the best restaurants in Trujillo.”

Max quickly recovered his composure and said that he would be delighted to join her. Before long they were in a cab on their way to a small restaurant where they sampled the local antechuchos (skewers of spicy pieces of calves' hearts), followed by roasted guinea pig, accompanied by exotic vegetables he couldn't identify but enjoyed nonetheless.

Throughout dinner Max couldn't stop himself from peering into Maria's eyes. They were dark and endless, and no matter what the topic, he found himself losing his train of thought.

Maria seemed similarly intrigued with Max, and she admitted that he was the first U.S. tourist she had ever met.

“Are all gringos as interesting as you
?
” she joked. “And do they all speak such pure Castellaño
?
I almost feel as if I am talking with the king of Spain. Your Spanish is so much better than my own that I am almost ashamed.” At that, she laughed.

Ever serious and lost in Maria's beauty, Max just stammered his reply.

“I . . . I have been fortunate to travel throughout Europe and the Americas at a young age, but I'm not really all that interesting. Your world fascinates me as much as mine does yours, perhaps more. I love the way you speak. Your voice has a softness and natural melody that's pure music to my ears.”

The more Maria spoke, the more Max felt as if he was losing control of his rational self.

They stayed at the restaurant until after midnight when the restaurant finally closed. Neither wanted the night to end, so they had the cab driver take them to the park next to the hotel where Max was staying. As they walked hand in hand among the trees, under the starlit sky, a bond formed between them.

To Max, it seemed as if they had known each other for many lifetimes. Maria told him about her family and her indigenous Inca roots. She spoke of her belief in a spiritual power beyond human knowing, and how she knew that all objects possessed life—“even the rocks and trees have consciousness,” she said.

She revealed her belief that some day the ancient Incan deities would return, and the true Inca people would once again rule their native lands. She talked about her quiet acceptance of Catholic rituals and practices that dictated sex only in marriage.

Sitting by her side on a wooden bench, Max unexpectedly found words tumbling out of his mouth uncontrollably.

“I know this will sound crazy, but I am completely in love with you,” he said. “I desire you as I have never desired any woman in my life, but even more, I love you with a holy, pure love that I have never experienced before . . .

“I know this is complete madness . . . ”

And suddenly Maria kissed him passionately on the lips, a long, enduring kiss. They stared into each other's eyes, and he witnessed in a flash of no more than thirty seconds an entire lifetime spent together. The look on her face told him that she was gripped in the same experience.

They heard a baby crying as it was being born.

They experienced growing old together and becoming grandparents.

They saw identical futures and did not speak.

The clarity of the experience was beyond words; the shared emotion indescribable. It took their breath away.

Finally, Maria spoke.

“I love you equally. I am equally mad. This is a love that can never materialize but is a love that our kiss has consummated in the fullness of time and will live in my memory forever.”

Max remained silent, shocked by this confession of love and yet confused and bewildered, as well. He had seen a life with this woman. He knew her, and he wanted her for all time.

Just as certainly he knew that Maria was correct and that their circumstances would not allow a lifelong commitment of the kind that Maria had been raised to fulfill.

In just a few hours he was to phone George in La Paz and report on what if anything he had found in Trujillo. He was booked on a flight later that afternoon from Lima to Quito, Ecuador, and then on to London. He would barely have time to shower and get to the airport in Trujillo for the flight to Lima.

With these and other thoughts racing through his head, Max looked at Maria and with a combination of joy, sadness, and resignation held both her hands to his heart.

“This has been a magical night, and I shall never forget you.”

He took out a pen and paper and asked Maria to write down her name and address so that he could stay in touch.

Maria handed him the paper on which she had written her full name and mailing address.

Maria Magdelena Ramirez

224 Calle de las Flores

Trujillo 9490 Peru

Max went into a state of shock.

This was a name he had seen years ago and had been unable to retain, no matter how hard he tried. Yet now, as it stared back at him from the piece of paper he clutched in his hand, his memory of it was utterly clear.

Maria possessed the first of the twelve names he had been given during his near-death experience.

He looked at Maria in her silver blouse and then at the paper again.

Silver had been the color in which her name had appeared to Max eight years earlier. It could not be a coincidence. There had to be a deeper meaning—perhaps a connection that was in fact supposed to alter their lives. Perhaps Maria truly was his soul mate and that was why he had been given her name.

He tried to explain to Maria this new level of connectedness.

“Perhaps the only reason I came to Peru was to meet you,” he suggested. “Perhaps we truly are meant to be together, or perhaps we have an important destiny that links us.”

To his relief, she didn't act as if he had gone insane. She remained calm and accepted the strange synchronicity that had gripped them.

“The world is wide and vast and strange, and we will never understand all that occurs,” she asserted. “If we are meant to be together, somehow that will happen, but if you do not leave now, you will miss your plane, and I will never hear the end of it from my parents.

“I love you. I have always loved you, and I will always love you,” she continued. “I do feel a deeper connection with you than anyone I have ever known. Deeper than any boyfriends, deeper than my own brothers, and even my mother and father, and I do not doubt but that our lives have crossed for a reason. Yet I do not see how we can alter our present destinies.”

With those words Maria gave Max a final kiss, stood, and walked out of the park, leaving him alone in front of his hotel pondering how it was that she had spoken the exact words his mother had used, after his near-death experience.

The Search Continues

June 1973

E
ASTER ISLAND.

Stonehenge.

Glastonbury.

The Museum of Man in London, the caves of Lascaux in France, Athens, and the Greek island of Santorini.

Max set up meetings in each of these locations with scientists, archeologists, and crackpots, all of whom had information to add to the ever evolving search for ancient mysteries.

However, he couldn't stop thinking about Maria Magdalena Ramirez in the few minutes a day in which he was not arranging the rental of cars, boats, planes, and whatever mechanisms would most assist the production team.

As he worked, a pattern evolved. Max would arrive in each city first, contact government officials, museum officials, and other persons with whom he needed to arrange permissions. He would scout locations and then greet the incoming crew upon their arrival at each international airport.

The cinematographer on the crew was Uri Ulick, considered in those days the best rough-terrain cameraman of his generation. Uri was in his thirties, Norwegian, thin, fit almost at the level of a professional athlete. He enjoyed steam baths and saunas and other fitness and health practices that would help him relax.

He was tenacious and confident in his filming. He would go anywhere to get a shot and was fearless. Because he was so fit and agile, he could climb around the top of buildings, perch on railings, and always get the shot. He did all of the helicopter and airplane shots and had no trouble with heights, often leaning out or strapping himself to the outside of the small planes they rented for filming the mysterious Nazca lines in the Peruvian desert or the ruins in remote locations.

Uri was easy to get along with. Everyone treated him with respect, and his services were always in demand. He had a wife and two young children at home in Los Angeles but was on location more than eight months a year.

Russ Arnold—their second cameraman—was in his twenties and big and burly. In Search of Ancient Mysteries was a big break for Russ, the most important project of his young career. He enjoyed his beer and was slower moving than Uri, but he was competent, professional, and showed a strong work ethic.

As their camera and lighting expert, Russ was meticulous. He loved to eat and joke, although, unlike Uri, he was less focused on fitness and often went on a binge when work was done.

Orlando Summers was twenty-nine, and as the line producer for the shoot, he was responsible for the budget. He gave Max his per diem and kept track of the equipment and expenses. He reported directly to George, who trusted him completely. Orlando aspired to be a producer and director himself, and Max had more interaction with him than with any other members of the crew.

They worked closely together to organize travel for the equipment and crew, and Orlando learned to rely on Max's judgment on trade-offs they had to make concerning the costs and the importance of selecting the priority of the shoots.

The final member of the crew was Andy Munitz, who was twenty-seven, thin, and angular, and who, as sound technician and grip, reported directly to Orlando and Uri and helped each of them set up shots and do whatever else might be needed in any situation.

For Max, who had never served in the military, In Search of Ancient Mysteries was his male-bonding equivalent. The small team worked almost nonstop and relied on one another in every way.

The stakes were high for each of them—the project could propel their careers forward in a major way. They thrived on the pressure of negotiating foreign countries and going to exotic, out-of-the way locations where few people had ever been before, all in search of ancient mysteries.

There was urgency to the work that Max didn't think existed in a regular 9 to 5 job. It was utterly exhilarating.

Their equipment was worth hundreds of thousands of dollars, and everywhere they went they were greeted with curiosity and scrutiny. In India they expected to find it impossible to walk down the street. But the same was to be true in Jerusalem, Lima, Athens, Santorini, London, Tokyo, and even the smaller towns surrounding the caves of Lascaux, the monoliths of Stonehenge, and the ruins of Cuzco.

They worked and ate together and, except for sleep, were never apart. They developed their own lingo, and if at the end of the day they were heard to say, “Six a.m. having had,” it meant to meet at six in the morning, having already had breakfast. “One and done at the Acropolis at sunrise,” meant a single sunrise shot at the Acropolis, while “crisp and clean” was an alternate to “It's a wrap.”

Every minute of every day and night was an adventure. Every free moment was spent visiting the strange cities and exploring additional sites. Downtime consisted of going to spas or just shopping for gifts for family and friends. By the end of the twelve-week shoot they considered themselves not only shared adventurers, but true friends . . . and that was what they were.

Max knew which whiskeys were preferred, what types of chocolate; and with his petty cash assignment and the ubiquity of the duty-free shops, the film team never lacked their favorite beverages and treats. His other unique skill turned out to be his ability to chase down taxis.

Arriving at airports, it was easy to commandeer the cabs needed for crew and equipment, but when going around a city to check on locations, there never seemed to be enough taxis to do the trick. Yet Max, with his easygoing, matter-of-fact approach, seemed able to magically manifest all the cars they needed, even when it was raining or in a location where cabs were in short supply.

In Israel, however, they all knew it was going to be different.

Given the extra precautions that had to be taken for security it was decided that a local production manager would be hired to handle all of the logistics of car rentals, planes, and related production needs. Max was perfectly happy to relinquish these headaches.

In Jerusalem, he would focus on the research and interviews. After twenty-hour work days it would almost seem like a vacation.

The New York office phoned Max at his Athens hotel, even as he prepared to depart for the airport. They told him the production manager who would meet him at the other end was named Yutsky Hasfor.

Max turned white as once again memory struck with utter clarity.

Yutsky Hasfor was the second name on the list of the Twelve.

***

During the three-hour flight, Max pondered what the significance of the Twelve might be.

It had been eight years since his near-death experience, and he had barely thought about the Twelve for most of that time. Now suddenly, within the space of four weeks, he would have met two of the Twelve, yet he still had no idea what this might foreshadow.

To his thinking, there had to be a connection between the film production and the twelve names. Could it have something to do with the extraterrestrials they were seeking
?
Perhaps they really did exist, and this was their way to prove it.

Based on his experiences at Yale, where even the most educated men had proved themselves unwilling to consider new ideas, Max decided that when they met, he wouldn't reveal to Yutsky the nature of their connection. No, he would watch, observe, and try to find a connection of some sort that might offer an explanation.

***

Yutsky was all smiles at the airport. He was a bear of a man, short yet powerful, with a moustache and a receding hairline. He wore green fatigues from his military days, and had a ring with countless keys hanging from his belt. He also wore a long, white scarf around his neck.

He laughed easily and loved telling stories, making jokes, and beaming when others smiled. He had been a major in the Israeli Army and was proud of his military achievements.

As far as Max could tell, there was nothing that Yutsky could not accomplish. He was the most organized man Max had ever met and was considered the top production coordinator in all of Israel. He had worked on many feature film productions and knew everyone in the business.

Yutsky made sure that vehicles were always ready as needed and arranged for access to Masada, Jericho, and even the more remote locations. He liked to have fun and was a lover of good food and drink, which endeared him to Russ and Andy. He saw to it that the crew enjoyed the best hotels, restaurants, and scenic and relaxing diversions during their downtime.

He introduced Max to the 1,000-year-old original Turkish baths in Jerusalem, took him to the Wailing Wall, the Dome of the Rock, Bethlehem, and all the sacred locations throughout Jerusalem and Israel. Max only stayed five days with Yutsky, but they bonded in a way that only happens during war—or the intensity of making a film.

At the end of that time, as they drove to the airport where Max would catch a plane to Delhi, India, Yutsky turned and asked him about his Israeli visit.

“So, Max, of all I have shown you these last five days here in Israel, what will you remember the most
?
”

Max thought a moment before answering.

“It's all been so amazing—I can't choose just one site, but perhaps in some mystical way it is the land itself and the energy of the people. There's so much focus and intensity in the streets, the restaurants, the bars, and everywhere,” he said.

“I am so glad you felt this energy,” Yutsky responded, and he smiled. “Yes, the true magic of Israel is in the people. Some, like me, come from families that have been here for centuries. But the others, who have come more recently from Europe, Russia, and even your own United States, capture the magic and purpose of this sacred land.

“Now that you have had your first Israeli experience, I am sure you will return—and when you do, I will be here to greet you.”

Yutsky beamed as he parked the car in the airport parking lot.

Just before Max entered the elaborate security area at the airport, he turned to his friend.

“You have been like a second father to me here in Israel,” he said. “I will never be able to thank you enough or repay your hospitality.”

Yutsky just smiled.

“Do not worry. I enjoyed every minute working with you and your crew. You are young. Some day a young person will need your help. In that moment, remember me, and I will be well thanked.

“Now go, and make a great film. Travel safely.”

While he boarded the plane, Max was certain that he had made a lifelong friend. And yet despite the close bond, he could not discern any mystical connection that might explain Yutsky's presence on the list of the Twelve, so he decided not to share this secret as they parted.

As a soldier, Yutsky didn't seem the type with whom to share a “woo-woo” experience. But it was enough to know that Yutsky had come into his life.