Steve Cash - Time Dancers

“I only wish we had,” Geaxi whispered, “things might have been different.”

“You must put that thought out of your mind,” Opari said.

We were in Luis’s courtyard, sitting in the cane chairs around the oak table. Jack and Luis were grilling the lobster and shrimp not far away. Geaxi glanced at Trumoi-Meq, sitting proud and blind, tilting his head toward the drifting smoke, then leaning forward and caressing the stone sphere with his fingers, still feeling for the truth behind the symbols.

“What do you think, young Zezen? It is ironic, no?” Geaxi asked.

“I’m not sure I know what you mean, Geaxi.”

“As we learn more about the Remembering…little by little, we are falling apart.”

When is childhood truly left behind? Is there a certain place, or place in time where this occurs? Is it inevitable? Is it in the mind, body, or both? Is it gradual, as the apple ripens, or is it in the moment the apple falls? Perhaps the answer lies with a grand balloon seen rising silently to the top of the sky; a terrible balloon that is not a balloon at all and shall never, ever be a toy.

We spent two continuous weeks in La Coloma under fair skies and on calm seas. We found no trace of the cave, but Ray and Nova fell in love with the underwater world of skin diving. I discovered Ray to be an excellent swimmer and faster below the water than any of us, including Luis. Geaxi said she had been diving since she was a child, but never with rubber fins and goggles. Mowsel always insisted on going along, though he stayed in the boat with Jack while we were underwater. Each day we sailed the coastline and every night we ate fresh fish and drank Cuban beer in the courtyard with Luis and Jack. It was a good and healthy two weeks for all of us. As we were preparing to leave, I asked Mowsel where he thought Sailor and Zeru-Meq might be. I was certain that wherever they were, they would have heard about the Spanish Civil War and realized our planned rendezvous in Spain in 1937 was out of the question. Mowsel said he had no idea and I should not hold my breath while waiting to find out. Sailor might inform us from time to time, if it suited him, but Zeru-Meq had never informed anyone of his whereabouts at any time. But that was before we returned to Finca Maria. The moment Jack pulled the old DeSoto to a stop, Carolina handed me a letter from Star. In the letter, Star said Arrosa was alive, well, and staying in Paris with Mitch Coates and Mercy Whitney. She had attempted to reach Spain after the bombings, but Koldo insisted she go back to England until the war was over. She fled to Paris instead. Arrosa had been devastated after learning of the deaths of Pello and the others. The only good news lay in the fact that she was now safe and out of harm’s way. Also, folded inside Star’s letter there was another letter, a one-page note and envelope postmarked six weeks earlier. The letter was addressed to me and had been mailed to Caitlin’s Ruby from Singapore. Opari translated for me because it was written in Chinese and in a style I didn’t recognize. She said the peculiar technique had gained popularity only during the T’ang Dynasty. I did recognize the signature at the bottom. The letter was from Zeru-Meq.

The literal translation was this:

The old one and this one assume no meeting in the homeland. The old one sails for the northern islands. All treasures need maps. Where two great rivers marry, in the city of the Saint, the “List” lies hidden in the wall. The old one requires the names. Meet this one in the city on the eighth day of the sixth month.

Zeru-Meq

I asked Opari to read it again. I knew “the old one” referred to Sailor, “the city of the Saint” was St. Louis, and the date was the eighth of June. The rest was a complete mystery to me. “Does anyone know what this means?”

“I only know Zeru-Meq has never written to us, nor has he ever been to America,” Mowsel said, bobbing his head back. “This ‘List’ must be of extreme importance. Que es, Geaxi?”

“No se,” Geaxi answered, then glanced at Opari. “Have you ever heard of a ‘List’?”

“No,” Opari said. “I am unfamiliar with this.”

I looked at Ray and Nova. “Do either of you know anything about a ‘List’ hidden in a wall?”

“Ain’t got a clue, Z,” Ray said.

“Neither do I, Zianno,” Nova added.

I looked at Jack. He was listening, still sitting in the driver’s seat of the DeSoto with the door open. To him, it was all gibberish and riddles. He shrugged his shoulders. Carolina stood a few feet away from the car, shielding her eyes from the sun. “I know what it is,” she said suddenly.

All heads turned to Carolina. She was staring at me, but her eyes were in the past.

Quietly I asked, “What is the ‘List,’ Carolina?”

“It was 1904,” she said, “just before the World’s Fair. Solomon had helped many diverse people from the Far East, people he had met and befriended in his travels before his eventual encounter with Sailor.”

“Yes,” I said, “at Solomon’s ‘remembering’…all of them were there.”

“That’s right, Z, but there were some among them with something else in common besides Solomon, something you did not know.”

“What?”

One at a time, Carolina glanced at Ray, Nova, Geaxi, Mowsel, Opari, and then back to me. “Some had knowledge of you…of the Meq. Solomon said the names of these people were written on a list, a special list, which he gave to me to keep in my safe in Georgia’s room.”

“And Sailor…did he know about the ‘List’?”

“Yes, but…”

“But what?”

“Solomon told me there were a few names on the List he thought Sailor did not know about.”

Geaxi interrupted bluntly. “Who were they?”

Carolina glanced at Geaxi. “That I don’t know. I never read it. I simply locked it in the safe and forgot about it.” She turned back to me. “Until now.”

“We must leave soon,” Opari said. “Zeru-Meq will not be late; however, he may be early. It is an old pattern of his. I know it well.”

“I agree,” Geaxi said, “as soon as possible.”

I looked at Carolina. “They’re right…we’ve got to go.” I watched her. She still held her hand up, shielding her eyes. “Are you ready to go home, Carolina?”

“No, Z…not yet. I’ll give Jack the combination to the safe.” She dropped her hand and took hold of Opari’s hand, then mine, and the three of us turned and started walking into the house. “I believe I’ll stay here with Ciela a little longer,” she said.

By making a single telephone call to Washington, D.C., Jack made it possible for all of us to travel together and still pass through United States Customs without suspicion or delay. The customs agent in Miami was waiting for our entourage and ushered us quickly through a separate entrance with only a quiet smile and a wish that we “have a nice stay.” I asked Jack the identity of the man in Washington and Jack said he had never been told his real name, but Owen assured him the man could be trusted implicitly. Owen gave Jack the number in confidence five years earlier, along with instructions not to use it unless absolutely necessary. Owen called the man “Cardinal” and told Jack to always say the password “sunrise” when the man answered. Mowsel and Geaxi appreciated the assistance of “Cardinal,” as we all did; however, Mowsel expressed concern about not knowing the man’s true identity, while Geaxi wondered out loud if Owen had compiled a “List” of his own. Jack said he was not aware of one, but opening Carolina’s safe might answer the question. In five years, this was the first time Jack had called the number. It would not be the last.