Marjorie Thelen - The Hieroglyphic Staircase

Elena called, “ Doña Carolita.” She repeated it several times, each time a little louder. At last, the short, plump woman appeared at the kitchen window.

“You made it, clever girl,” she said, clapping her hands. “Good thing to think of coming in the back way. The news people arrived after you left.”

She opened the gate, and they went inside to the kitchen.

“What a morning,” doña Carolita said. “Those people have knocked every few minutes, asking when you’d return. I told them you would be gone all day, but they are very insistent and wanted to know where you had gone. I wouldn’t tell them. I watched the news on TV. They are showing photos of the tourists leaving town from the bus station. This is terrible.”

Elena gave doña Carolita a hug. “I’m sorry for all the trouble. I could find another place, maybe move to a hotel, if you’d like.”

“No, no. It is nothing. No, you stay here. I insist. It is no problem. Now, I have made a nice meal. You two sit, and I will serve.”

She patted Dominic on the arm, and he hugged her. She was round and soft and smelled of fresh tortillas. He was thankful Elena was staying with her.

Elena set the table, and doña Carolita served a meal of plantains, chicken with rice, tortillas and avocado salad. She sat down to eat with them. When they finished, she served coffee and moved a bowl of fresh papaya slices onto the table.

“ Ay , I almost forgot,” said doña Carolita, tapping her temple. “Your mother called to see if you had returned and asks that you call her. I think she is worried about you. She is such a nice lady.”

“Thank you, I’ll call her right now.”

Dominic kept doña Carolita company in the kitchen while she washed dishes. All of a sudden, she threw up soapy hands into the air, scattering soap suds as far as his seat at the table.

“ Ay, padre , I forgot something else. Dios mío , I don’t know what is wrong with my memory. Those news people have me upset. That little boy who was here yesterday, the one I named Miguel, came by this morning to inquire for Elena.”

Dominic straightened from a hunch over his coffee cup. “What time was that? What did you tell him? Where did he go?”

“He came to the kitchen door. It was after Elena left. I made him a breakfast of scrambled eggs. He has a fine appetite, that boy does. I told him the doctora had gone to the Museum, he could find her there. I asked him to stay, that the doctora would be back later, but he said he could not. That he had to find Elena.”

“We didn’t see him at the Museum nor on the road.”

“He said he has been in hiding. Probably he did not take the main road. He must know other paths to the Park.”

“Thank heaven he’s still alive. I fear for his safety.”

“Yes, this is most unfortunate.”

“What is unfortunate?” asked Elena, returning to the kitchen. She had changed into her field uniform of shorts, tank top and vest. Her field hat was in hand.

Dominic told her of Miguel’s visit.

“That’s great news. I am so relieved he’s still alive,” she said. “Did he say where he’s been?”

“No, he did not. He was not forthcoming with information. But he did eat well, I am happy to say.”

“Good, I’m glad. Poor little guy. He’s been so elusive.”

“If he comes back,” said Dominic, “insist that he stay here so we can help him.”

“Did you talk to your mother?” he asked Elena.

“I did. She is going shopping at the tourist stores in town this afternoon. She invited us to have dinner with her again. I said we’d be in touch since I was going back to the Park.”

“Shall I give you lift?” asked Dominic.

“If it isn’t too much trouble.”

He smiled. “Not at all.”

They thanked doña Carolita and slipped out the back door, Elena carrying her computer under one arm. They hurried to the Jeep and made a quick getaway to the open highway.

On the road to the Park, Dominic said, “Elena, why don’t I stay with you this afternoon? I would feel better knowing that you’re not alone.”

She smiled over at him. “I appreciate your offer, but I know they need you at the clinic. I’ll be okay. I’ll work at the Staircase since no one will be at the Museum.”

His frustration level ratcheted up another notch. What was it going to take to make her see she was in danger? He didn’t like the feeling of fear that had taken up residence in the pit of his stomach. She must be in denial. He relented because short of tying her up, there seemed to be no stopping her. “All right, but I’ll come pick you up this evening after the clinic closes at seven.”

“Thanks,” she said, “I appreciate the lift. That will give me time in the Museum to do a little investigating of my own.”

The guard at the entrance put up his hand to stop them. He nodded a greeting when he saw Elena.

“Are you letting any tourists in?” she asked.

“No,” the guard said. “Our orders are no tourists allowed.”

“Has the new inspector arrived?”

“No. We expect him today.”

“All right,” she said. “I’ll be working at the Staircase and then the Museum, if anyone is looking for me.”

The guard nodded and allowed them to pass. Dominic stopped the Jeep in the visitor parking lot, the closest he could get without driving onto the archaeological site itself. Elena jumped down and came around to his side of the Jeep.

“Thanks,” she said with a smile. “I’ll see you later, and don’t worry, I’ll be all right.”

Dominic watched her walk into the ruins. His fears hadn’t eased up in the least. If anything, they were worse.

After an hour of intense concentration, Elena took a break for water and banana chips. As she sat on one of the hieroglyphic stairs halfway up the pyramid and munched on the chips, she gazed about the huge plaza that formed the north section of the ruins. The stillness of the place took off some of the edge she’d been feeling. A movement caught her attention, a flurry almost, perhaps a bird. She turned her head, focusing on a point near the opening at structure six, one of the many low, step structures around the great plaza. The opening led to the visitor center and Museum.

An image formed and grew into the shape of a lone figure walking across the great plaza. She stood, craning her neck like a bird to see who it was. The figure walked like a female, but a rather small one. Who would it be at this time of day, under these circumstances? It wasn’t Miguel or Gordo. The figure walked too deliberately for a child.

Elena took a sip of water, still watching the figure. It was a female. She was wearing a skirt and taking determined strides in Elena’s direction. She packed up her gear and started down the pyramid. Since she was acting director, she wanted to know who this was since the Park was closed. She hoped the person wasn’t a media type. That would be unfortunate.

Elena waited at the base of the pyramid. The slant of the sun now cast shade across the great plaza. She saw no visible weapon on the person, which was a plus, nor anything shaped like a camera or microphone. Another plus.

The approaching visitor smiled and waved, a big hand-over-head wave, and not wanting to appear unfriendly, Elena gave a finger wave back. Who was this? Curiosity overcame any misgiving she had. She took a few steps forward.

The stranger was a young girl, dressed in simple dark skirt and light colored blouse, open at the throat, flat shoes. Her shiny, black hair was pulled back into a low slung pony tail. She looked like an upscale version of someone’s maid. She stopped about five feet away.