BY DAVID MAMPEL
Copyright is held by the author.
ERNESTO KNEW it was stupid to retire early from the US Patent Office. He knew he’d miss the extra money and his jocular co-workers. He knew he’d miss waking up early to beat rush hour traffic to stop at his favorite cemetery to sip coffee and read the Times.
***
The cemetery. Death. That was what finally pushed him over the edge to retire early. Life. He had parked there on a black, windless morning to finally read, not the newspaper, but an un-opened letter he’d found cleaning out his spare bedroom. It almost popped out of a drawer when he’d rifled through some old baby pictures. Ernesto wondered what made him clean that room. It was spotless.
Brushing off his wonderment, he looked out of his forest-green Jaguar on a small hill overlooking a maze of granite headstones. Turning off the engine, he sipped the last of his coffee and turned off the radio.
Rolling down the window, first light filtered through willow branches Ernesto couldn’t see. A leafy branch caressed the roof of his car like fingernails scratching a chalkboard. He laughed. Just like the ghost story, Ernesto thought.
Grabbing his uncle’s un-opened letter, Ernesto frowned when he remembered why he’d never opened it. Uncle Gonzalo had pleaded with Ernesto when he was still a graduate student studying pre-Columbian civilizations. That wasn’t too long before the letter had arrived and Ernesto tossed it in the drawer. Gonzalo had wanted Ernesto to help decipher geometric symbols on the gold-plated books he’d found in Ecuador. “You’re the only one I know who can help me.” Gonzalo had said on the phone. “Please come to Ecuador, Ernesto. I have found a hidden entrance in the Tayos. Neil Armstrong missed this one!” He was crazy! Ernesto thought. So, what if a famous astronaut believed in that bullshit Metal Library. He should have never gone back to that cave. I told him it was too dangerous. Damn it! What happened anyway? They never found his body.
Ernesto lifted the thick business-sized envelope to his face. It smelled like blood. He crinkled his nose. Looking out of his windshield, Ernesto noticed the morning darkness had turned a light grey. Brisk winds began to blow. Thunderheads peeked out of the Eastern sky. Ernesto rolled up his window and squeezed the stuffed papers folded inside the envelope. The willow branched scratched against the roof of his Jag again. Ernesto shivered.
Gonzalo never wrote short letters to his nephew. They were always packed with several pages of hand written text combined with newspaper clippings, photocopied maps, and archeological journal entries with notes in the margins. One time, his uncle even enclosed a long black, green and iridescent aqua-blue feather from a Resplendent Quetzal, the national bird of Guatemala.
Ernesto smiled when he remembered the long, curled feather he received when he was a grad student in anthropology at Harvard. Oh, how Gonzalo used to go on and on about that bird! Ernesto shook his head. All his flights of fancy about its connection to Quetzalcoatl, the great snake-god. How that bird used to sing until the Spanish conquered the Incas. “She won’t sing again until the jungles are free!” Gonzalo used to say. All the stuff of legend. Ernesto grinned. It makes for a good story, that’s about it.
Thunder rumbled in the distance. Ernesto ripped open the envelope. Unfolding the first page of the long letter, he read:
Ernesto,
Don’t give up on your research! The Patent Office will pay better, but money’s not everything . . .
Ernesto threw the letter on the passenger seat and got out of the car. Walking down to a small headstone behind the willow tree, he bent down, holding his sides. A deep grief welled up from within. Lightning flashed exposing the inscription and epitaph on the headstone.
Gonzalo Fernandez
Intrepid Explorer
1934 to 2010
I’d rather go down in the stirring fight, than drowse to death by the sheltered shore.
Thunder cracked open the sky with a boom that shook Ernesto to his core. “Why didn’t you listen to me?” Ernesto yelled into the howling wind.
He ran back to his car and started the engine. Looking over to the passenger seat, he saw a coloured photograph sticking out of the envelope. A bright image of a gold-plated book glowed on the seat. Ernesto quickly looked away.