Marjorie Thelen: The Hieroglyphic Staircase

Carolita smiled and dried her hands. “He is a nice looking man, isn’t he? You noticed. I can tell by your blush. You go. It would be good to take some fresh air. I think I will make you a little soup for later. You need to keep up your strength. You are too thin.”

Elena smiled. If doña Carolita was any indication of what healthy was supposed to be, Elena had a way to go. She gave her a hug. She was, after all, a dear soul, and Elena was grateful that someone wanted to care for her.

Outside, the sun was low in the sky. Palm trees stretched their fronds in a promising evening breeze. The clinic lay on the other side of the well-tended central plaza that lay in the middle of Copan Ruinas. The town had taken its name from its chief source of tourism — the Copan Ruins. Tourists came from all over the world to see the Florence of Mayan civilization. Elena had come, too, attracted by its art, sculpture, and hieroglyphs. But she hadn’t bargained for what had happened today, and she needed to talk it over with someone.

Dominic being a priest surprised her. Not that she knew anything about the Catholic Church, since she wasn’t raised in any religion. Her father was a non-practicing Catholic and detested the church. Her mother pursued whatever New Age religion was popular at the moment. Elena tried not to be cynical. Science was her religion. She believed a greater power was behind the formation of the Universe and that was enough for her.

She crossed the plaza diagonally and passed the center fountain that stood empty. The palm tree trunks were neatly trimmed, and lantana flowered in a profusion of yellow and pink. Children played jump rope on the walk, and pair of afternoon lovers sat head to head on a cement bench.

She started down the street where the medical clinic was located and spotted the Jeep parked out front. At the door of the clinic she paused. The place was packed with villagers standing in a bunch, all of them stoically waiting.

A motorcycle roared around the corner and screeched to a halt beside her.

“Pretty lady,” someone shouted.

She knew who it was without turning — the last person on Earth she wanted to see.

“I hear some guy got killed out at the ruins this morning,” he shouted again.

Elena didn’t want to turn around, but she did, knowing that he would not let her escape.

“Hello, Rolando.” She greeted him with crossed arms and a frown.

He put the kick stand down and swung a leg over the back of the motorcycle. “I came to find you as soon as I heard. You need someone to protect you. I keep telling you, and you don’t listen to me.”

He walked around the motorcycle and came to stand before her, blocking her way into the clinic. He ran a finger down her cheek. “Pretty lady, I missed you.”

She hadn’t missed him, but she didn’t say it in the interest of not creating an international incident. She acknowledged him with a shrug of one shoulder.

“Has the cat got your tongue, pretty lady? How about I take you to a nice place, and we get comfortable, and Rolando will make you feel real good. Make you forget.”

He nuzzled her neck, but Elena pulled out of the embrace he tried to lock on her.

“Get your hands off me,” she said. “I don’t need your help, thank you. Now if you will excuse me.”

He blocked her path as she tried to swing around him to go into the clinic.

“What’s the matter, pretty lady, you don’t want to be my girlfriend no more?

“I was never your girlfriend. Let me pass.”

She heard the unwelcome roar of more motorcycles and knew they were friends of Rolando. They never seemed to work. She wondered where they got the money to drive such flashy vehicles. Maybe they trafficked in ancient Mayan stones to fund their activities.

As the other motorcycles pulled up to the curb in front of the clinic, she saw Dominic step out the door. He walked over, the keys to the Jeep in his hand, a smile on his face.

“Hello, Elena,” he said.

“Hi,” she said, “I was coming to see you to thank you for your help this morning.”

Rolando moved in front of Elena like a man with a possession. “Yeah, thanks. But I can take care of her now. C’mon Elena.”

Dominic’s hand clamped down on Rolando’s shoulder. “Hold on. I didn’t get your name.”

“Rolando,” said Elena. “He lives here in town.”

He shrugged out of Dominic’s grip.

“Nice to meet you,” Dominic said and put out his hand.

Rolando looked at it. “Why don’t you get lost? My girlfriend and I were just leaving.”

“I told you I’m not your girlfriend,” Elena said. “You’re creating a scene, Rolando. Adios .” She stepped around him and disappeared into the clinic.

Dominic followed her but turned at the clinic door to watch until Rolando and friends gunned their motorcycles and roared away. Elena watched from behind him. The first day she arrived Rolando had latched on to her walking down the street and had been a nuisance ever since. He was a male who didn’t understand the word no.

“I’m sorry,” Dominic said, looking at her. “I hope I didn’t break up something, but you didn’t seem to be enjoying yourself.”

“Not at all. He keeps bugging me and calling me his girlfriend. I hate men who think they’re God’s gift to women.”

“Me, too,” he said, and Elena laughed.

“Well, you know,” she said, “some guys don’t let up.”

“I bet you have a lot of trouble with guys not letting up on you.”

“Not really.” She smiled at the compliment. “I’m usually buried in books or poking in ruins. I stopped by to say thanks for this morning.”

Dominic gave her a lopsided smile. “It was the least I could to. Look, I was just about to ride up to one of the villages to check on a mother who’s about to give birth. Would you care to ride along?”

“Sure,” she said, “I could use a distraction.”

“I bet.”

He helped her into the Jeep. They eased down a side street and were soon driving on the open road with deep ditches alongside. The drive created a welcome breeze. Sunlight filtered through the dense overhang of trees.

“Feeling better?” he asked, keeping his eyes on the winding road.

“I tried to rest, but all I saw were that dead guy’s eyes staring into nothing. I haven’t taken the sedative, but I might in order to sleep tonight.”

Dominic nodded. “What you’re experiencing is pretty common, unfortunately. Did the inspector come to see you?”

“Yes, and I didn’t like the way his questioning went, like I was under suspicion.”

“You?”

“He said he had to question everyone, including my department head, Dr. Anna Roulade. But I think the dear director gave him the idea that I could be a suspect. Like I swipe the hieroglyphs, then report them stolen, then kill someone who’s butting in on my action, then discover the murder myself to throw off the police. That sounds really logical, doesn’t it?”

Dominic smiled, not looking over at her. She liked his easy smile. His profile was strong, nothing out of place, everything in perfect order. His left hand gripped the top the wheel, and the right draped over the top of the gear shift knob.

She wondered what kind of a woman would give up a man like him. Did his pleasant façade hide some deep, dark buried secret?

“If it’s any comfort,” he said, “the inspector acted suspicious with me when he came by the clinic this afternoon. Maybe it’s the way he says things. He has a squint that would do Inspector Clouseau proud.”

Elena laughed. “You’re right. He does look like a Latin version of Peter Sellers.”

They both laughed, and Elena felt better. Maybe the whole world wasn’t conspiring against her. Maybe she was being paranoid.