Mayan Lover (4 page)

“Gwen!” His voice held a low threat
she knew all too well. “Why are you making me do this?”

“Gwennie, please, come back in the house.
What will the neighbors think? We don’t air dirty laundry in
public,” her mother pleaded.

Tears blurred her vision when John grasped her
by the back of her hair, partially lifting her from the ground with a
painful grip on her arm, and started to drag her back toward the
porch stairs. Like the call of angels, the sound of sirens got
louder.
Please be coming here
. She silently prayed. John
stopped and gripped her arm harder. Her arm felt like it was about to
snap. He cursed under his breath. His lips at her ear, he whispered
too low for Carol to hear, “You are mine, Gwen. You will always
belong to me. No matter where you go or how long it takes, I will
find you. And when I do,
you will
come back to me. This isn’t
over.” With a final hard tearing yank of her hair, he let her
go. She landed back on her scrapped hands and knees. Her journals hit
the grass next to her head.

From the corner of her eye she saw him climb
into his car and tear out of the driveway. A moment later a police
cruiser roared past in the direction John had taken and Martha’s
Mercedes pulled up to the curb. Gwen grasped the precious books to
her chest.

“That son of a bitch.” Martha
squatted daintily next to her and brushed the curls from Gwen’s
face. “I went by the university to tell you the judge upheld
your restraining order against John. Maggie told me you were here. I
had a bad feeling so I called the police. It looks like my suspicions
were right.”

With her relief came a few tears. Her mother
disappeared into the house with a slam of the screen door. Gwen saw
the final look of furious disappointment on her mother’s face
as the front door closed and the lock clicked. Somewhere inside Gwen
knew she’d never see her mother again.

The police cruiser returned. The officer helped
her to her feet and guided her toward Martha’s car. “I
lost him. An arrest warrant has been issued. Every officer from here
to Memphis will be looking for your ex-husband, ma’am. Come in
to the station and I’ll write up the assault charges.”

Gwen could only shake her head. Martha spoke up.
“Officer, Dr. Kramer has a plane to catch out of Memphis in a
few hours. Would you be willing to escort us to pick up her bags and
follow us to the Tennessee state line?”

The officer lips took a grim line. “I’ll
do one better than that. My cousin is a Tennessee State trooper. I’ll
have him meet us at the state line and escort you from there to the
boarding gate.” He opened Martha’s passenger door for
her. “I hope you’re going far from here, ma’am.”

Her thumb rubbed the journal as Martha drove her
back to the university. Maggie was waiting at her truck, holding a
first aid kit when they pulled up. The officer politely transferred
Gwen’s bags from Maggie’s truck into Martha’s car
trunk. Maggie slid into the back seat and handed her a wipe to start
cleaning the small cuts.

“Do you want to file assault charges? I’m
sure the officer would do it at the airport before your flight. It
might not be a bad idea.” Martha asked pulling from the parking
lot leaving Maggie’s truck on campus.

Gwen shook her head. “I just want to get
out of here.”

Maggie rolled her eyes. “Gwen, if he finds
you and shows up, then what?” Martha whistled softly like she
had a secret. Maggie poked her in the arm. “Deets,” She
demanded.

“Well, I sort of anonymously reported him
as a terrorist, so his passport will get flagged in customs.”
Martha grinned.

“And!” Maggie prompted.

“And … I sent your police files and
a copy of the restraining order to the Belize police department.”
Martha’s grin turned into a full-blown devious smile. “If
he shows up, Senor Jefez, the commissioner of police, assured me
himself that they will crawl up his ass with a microscope. I even had
him send that to me in writing.”

Gwen was speechless but Maggie wasn’t.
“OH, HELLS YA! Martha, you are amazing.”

Martha shrugged and winked at Gwen. “I do
what I do.”

Gwen wasn’t amused. “If he finds
out, he might go after you, Martha.” Her concern for her friend
and attorney overrode the appreciation she knew she should feel.

“Oh, man, I wish he would.” Martha
hooted. “Concealed gun permit, two hours a week at the firing
range, a black belt in martial arts, and three days a week with a
personal trainer would be put to good use on that bastard. In all the
battered-women cases I handle, not once have I been able to dole out
the deserved justice.”

Gwen wished she were more like Martha or even
Maggie. Neither of her friends would ever have ended up with a John.

Turned out the wealth of his time did not hold
much value in the twenty-first century. It was the forethought of Gia
passed through generations that created the legacy of wealth Enrique
gave him in the form of paper called money, bonds, and stocks. When
he’d tried to give it to Enrique, his nephew had laughed.
‘Trust me, uncle, I am quite … comfortable. I will put
it back into the safe for you with your other things.’

With Enrique's help and his own natural talent
for language, Arka began to get the feel of the modern world. He
still couldn't drive like Enrique and found shoes very uncomfortable,
preferring to be barefoot as much as possible. It took six months of
helping without invitation at the site of his village before the man
in charge had taken notice of Arka and Enrique. Dr. Hanson had
broached Enrique first. “Why do you come here every day and
donate your time?”

Enrique had shrugged. “My uncle and I have
a love for our heritage. By helping, we ensure that our family’s
artifacts are in good hands.”

Arka had joined in the conversation using the
English he'd picked up. “I am quite knowledgeable on the
history of this area.”

Dr. Hanson had narrowed his eyes with suspicion
and held up an artifact. Though it was cracked and chipped, Arka knew
without question that it had belonged to Arjuna. Sometimes the
reminders of those long past people he cared for overwhelmed him.
“Tell me what this is.”

He was being tested. The man in charge was very
fluent in his culture, though they did not have everything accurate.
Arka was surprised at how much the people of this time correctly
deduced from mere remnants. “It is a jade jar with the image of
Ixchel, the Moon Goddess. It was used by a rites priestess to hold
special purification herbs.”

Dr. Hanson looked hard at the image on the jar.
“We don't know what the jars held or what they were used for …
but you are correct about the Ixchel.” He seemed interested in
Arka’s disclosure. “Why do you think it held herbs?”

Enrique chuckled. “From our fathers, and
their fathers and so on and so on.”

Arka picked up on Enrique’s clue of how to
reinforce the credibility of his knowledge. “My father told me
when a boy reached manhood he was sent to the priestess. She would
use herbs to purify both the man and herself, and then she would
train him in the rites of pleasuring women.”

“Hmm. An interesting theory.” Dr.
Hanson smiled in a friendly manner and extended his hand. “Well,
gentlemen, you looking for a paid job?”

Arka followed Enrique’s lead and shook Dr.
Hanson's hand with a nod. “What are your names?” Enrique
introduced them both. “I have a colleague arriving today. I'd
like you to work under her direction. Her name is Dr. Gwen Kramer.”
Dr. Hanson led them toward the area where Arka had buried the
amethyst skull. His heart beat faster with every step. “I want
you to start two-foot-square string sections here in advance of her
arrival.”

He gave them a serious stare. “Dr.
Kramer’s father and I worked on many digs together. I've known
her since she was a girl. Without knowing anything, she found amazing
artifacts even as a child. I had to beat many rival intern offers to
get her here. Treat her with utmost respect.” Dr. Hanson
wandered to someone calling to him from another hole.

Arka cleared the area. A vibration of her life
force emanated from the deeply buried crystal and steadily increased
as he worked, filling him with anticipation.
Gwen.
Her name
rolled through his mind. The heralding of the skull’s vibration
made him sure Gwen was the Goddess of Moonlight. Would she recognize
him, or had his dreams been the product of his young imagination?
They'd been so real to him. Her blond hair had thickened and
lengthened while her body changed from that of a girl to a woman who
was growing at the same rate as he did. His last dream of her was
etched into his mind.

She had knelt in the shadow of the moon’s
light. Her delicate hand swirled ripples into a still pool. He'd
nearly been able to see her face reflected in the water when he'd
stepped up behind her and rested his hands on her shoulders. Instead
of taking his hand and running beside him, the way they usually spent
their time together, she had dropped her head. Her shoulder shook as
if she were weeping. Her hand had risen to his on her shoulder. She
squeezed his hand hard and then shimmered away.

In a cloud of dust and crunching tires, a Jeep
stopped a few feet from where he knelt. The vibration underground
pounded hard in time with his pulse. He could hear the cry of welcome
the skull let out. The Goddess of Moonlight had arrived. The daughter
of the Moon Goddess, in human form, finally. He tried to see her
through the dust, but the sun setting behind her made it impossible.

“Gwen … I mean Dr. Kramer,”
Dr. Hanson greeted her.

“Gwen is good, Arthur. Every time I hear
Dr. Kramer, I look around for my father.” Her voice rolled over
him, heating his blood, and caused more than his heart to pound. She
stepped clear of the Jeep and Arka realized his memory of her tiny
form was correct. When she hugged Dr. Hanson, the top of her head
barely reached his collarbone. Her white-blond hair was in a tight
braid down her back, ending at the curve of her bottom, which was
perfectly displayed in a pair of tan shorts.

Enrique elbowed him and lifted his eyebrows up
and down. “Goddess is fine, my uncle,” he whispered.

Arka scowled at him. “Of course she’s
fine. She’s a goddess. No illness would ever come to her.”

Enrique erupted in laughter and made an
hourglass shape with his hands. “I mean
fine
.”

Arka could not agree with his nephew’s
assessment more. His manhood bobbed behind his zipper, making its
opinion of the goddess known as well. Not that he would ever risk the
god’s wrath by saying it out loud. Goddesses were to be
worshipped, not ogled.

“I can't tell you how happy I am you chose
to join me for your internship. The competition for you was fierce.”
Dr. Hanson seemed on the verge of bursting with excitement.

Her soft laugher filled the air—even the
birds in the trees quieted to listen. “You know my passion for
Maya, Inca, and Aztec culture. Plus, how could I say no to you. Of
course, the promise of my own dig site helped my decision to come to
Central America.”

“Would you like to see your new home?”
He lifted his palm to indicate the mobile metal structure a few men
had rolled near where Enrique and Arka were making lines with string
and sharpened sticks.

All afternoon people had brought things—food,
equipment, and a wood and cloth dwelling structure. “That tent
is for us,” Enrique had told him before he’d left, only
to return a few hours later with his and Arka’s belongings,
clothing, and sleeping rolls. Arka had taken a short break to bury
the Sun God’s skull for safekeeping.

The Goddess of Moonlight’s voice floated
to him again. “Later. You know what I want to see, Arthur.
Don't tease.” The shadow of her hat hid her upper face, but her
ruby-colored lips against the paleness of her cheeks made him think
of juicy berries. His mouth salivated. Her full breasts quivered with
each step she took. Entranced by the appearance of her nipples as
they peaked beneath the cream-colored tank top, he failed to notice
her pace slow.

His eyes rose to meet hers. Dark, indigo blue
like the night sky, they held him captivated. He heard her draw in a
quick, startled breath as her hand fluttered to her chest. The skull
pounded a final crescendo only he could feel from beneath the ground
and fell silent. Instinctively Arka dropped to one knee, forearm
braced on his thigh, and bowed his head to her.

“You got a rock in your shoe?”
Enrique nudged him with his leg and extended his hand to the goddess
with a smile. Arka looked at his bare foot. He didn’t have a
rock … oh, the bow. He realized what he’d just done
without thought. “Welcome Dr. Kramer, I'm Enrique and this is
my uncle Arka.”

He raised his head to look upon her beauty but
remained kneeling. Her hand trembled; her eyes remained locked to his
as she shook his nephew’s hand. “Arka … like the
Mayan Journeyer of myth?” He gave her a single nod. A radiant
smile lit her face. “That has always been my favorite story. I
used to make my father tell it to me over and over as a girl. I know
this is crazy but, you seem … familiar. Did you study in
Mississippi?”

Relief flooded him. She'd shared his dreams
after all. “I am not formally educated, Dr. Kramer. My skills
are from my forefathers.” He answered with a thick voice he
barely recognized as his.

“I've hired these gentlemen to work under
your direction.” Dr. Hanson gave Arka a confused look. “I'll
leave it to them to show you the site. Enrique, please make sure Dr.
Kramer's bags get to her trailer.” Enrique went to the Jeep and
Dr. Hanson returned to his duties, leaving Arka and Gwen staring at
each other.

“Are you … um … okay? You
might want to breathe. Your lips are turning blue.” She shifted
from foot to foot, obviously uncomfortable. He took a deep, loud
breath, and she smiled again. He hadn’t realized he was holding
it.