King Solomon's Journey (The Dominguez Adventures) (3 page)

            As he closed the case, thoughts of the woman entered his mind again. This time he felt as he did during the hallucination. Her spirit seemed to surround him. His eyes closed, as he breathed in her essence. Where did she come from? Her eyes were mysterious, breathtaking, sparkling her arms were reaching for him.

            Remember her name, Amanda Messenger or damn, perhaps Amanda the Messenger; she wanted him to think. This made him consider the possibility that somewhere, she waited for him. As he rubbed his head, the pain lessened at the thought of her, his soul thrummed with excitement. Would he find her through his soul? Maybe he should go get his head examined since now he was insane.

            Antonio finished checking the security measures, picked up his copies of the scrolls, and locked the door. As he headed for the door, he saw Maria run out to meet him.

             “Madre de Dios, Antonio, you need a Doctor.”

            “Maria, I am fine, let me shower you'll see the injury is much better than it looks.”

             “Antonio, it is possible to have a bump inside your head.” She felt concerned.

             “We will see after I shower.” He thought hell, not a bump; a woman is in my head. He walked to the hallway and left the envelope for Joe. After he climbed up the short flight of stairs, he stopped to put the copies of the scrolls and the keys to the workroom in his desk. In the bedroom, he threw his dirty clothes by the door and stepped back to the bathroom. The shower felt terrific, after a generous application of soap, he threw his sore head back under the water, and allowed it to wash away his pain with the dried blood.

            It didn't matter how ridiculous the thought, the longing he felt for this woman, would not go away. Images of her in his mind sent waves of emotion through him. He needed her; even crazier was his sense that she was a necessary element in relation to his finding the Scrolls or their meaning.

            In the vision, he could feel her intense love. Intellectually, he knew a concussion must have triggered a strange reaction in his brain causing him to hallucinate. If love could achieve the feeling he experienced heroin and cocaine trafficking would collapse. No way, it was some somatic response to trauma inducing a chemical that resulted in a hallucination.

            Out of the shower, he dried off and dressed. He glanced at his wound in the mirror, his forehead now boasted a dark bruise and a gigantic goose egg, and it was an ugly sight. At least it had swelled out, and he could assure Maria that he did not have a bump inside his head.

            After he made his way down to the kitchen, he suddenly found himself checked over as if he were a child in need of a hug and a Super-Hero band-aid. It took all he could do to stop Maria from dragging him out to the drive for a trip to the hospital.

            She finally conceded and retrieved a bottle of aspirin.  After he had taken the aspirin, he asked Maria to take his food to the office. She agreed but shot him a worried look.

            He chuckled. “Maria, you know I love it when you take care of me, but I'm fine. I have some work to do. Tomorrow, I'll need to get new glasses, since I travel to Vegas early, the day after tomorrow.” He bounded up the stairs two at a time, and reached his office prepared to work.

            Maria came with his food setting it down by him. He kissed her cheek. “. Look, its late, you two go home. This project will have me busy for hours.”

            She nodded. “Antonio, call us if you have any problems.”

             “I will, thanks Maria.”

            Starting to translate, he was looking down through the magnifier, searching for some pictograph that would help identify the author or subject, and give him a hint as to its time of origin, and then it jumped right out from the paper. "Unbelievable, it was King Solomon!" He opened the next Scrolls. Damn, this may be the real deal. King Solomon, the Scrolls bore a series of messages from King Solomon.

            Antonio began to sweat more and more with each word translated. Translating the Ancient Hebrew first, later he would arrange correct sentences. Paleo-Hebrew did not always fit with modern English it was tedious work at best each of the letters also represented a number. At times, the numbers were used to intentionally complicate the meaning, a ruse used by the author to protect the messenger and the receiver.

            It was necessary to cover all the bases sometimes that meant it needed a cross-reference in English to make the best choice in the context of the ultimate meaning.

            Bent over the scrolls for the hours required to translate them properly, began to tell on Antonio, his back and neck were aching, and he paused to refresh himself.

            As he drank from his water bottle; his thoughts raced in tempo to the substance that began to emerge. The woman the Messenger from his delusion flashed in his mind with every word he translated.

            The characters sha-mad translated in English, was 'destroy'. They were presenting a prophetic note within the instruction. The message was not explicit it was an eerie component. She-mesh was the 'sun'. Antonio saw that this scroll was warning of disaster originating from the sun that might cause harm, tey-vel means 'Earth'. In the context of the ancient language, he decided it was a warning of a disaster to the Earth in relation to the suns renewal or rebirth.

            The next translation held a positive element; Hha-yeel meant a 'force' and ma-geyn meant a 'shield. Antonio wanted to shout aloud it was an instrument of protection. Sho-eyr translated as 'gatekeeper'; sha-ar meant 'gate'. It was a revelation; 13th gate with 13 tribal gatekeepers', na-hhah meant 'inherit'. He understood the tribes were the chain of birthright or inheritance goy was the nation.

            Antonio stood, he began to pace, rubbing his hand over the top of his hair, saying aloud, "The United States of America, the nation with the 13th gate, a home to the thirteen tribes. This suggests it is a source or gateway connected with Earth, Damn." He always knew or suspected there was something momentous at Hidden Mountain. It was an axis; the damn place was an energy polestar.

            Frustrated with himself and the argument in his mind, he struggled with the validity of the Scrolls' message. "Shit," he shouted. There she was again, Antonio felt as if she were telling him he needed to pay attention.

            Still standing he looked down, ma-qeyn was a shield. No doubt, it was the key to creating a shield for the Earth ye-sha was to 'rescue'; be-tahh meant 'safety'. It occurred to Antonio, he could not use the luxury of hiding behind his PhD to avoid the possibility that these Scrolls could save humanity. Once again pacing he rubbed his head seeing her again, "Get out of my head or come help me. You are a hallucination."

            He sat back down hoping his colleague at the University of Texas put a rush on the small fibers he was sending for authentication of the Scrolls true age.  The implications of this find were enormous; even by simply believing they were authentic…sent his head and heart into palpitations. They still needed the confirmation, having seen the real thing, masterful fakes, and significantly, bad fakes, he had learned from working on teams in Jerusalem, never trust your first look. The group encountered some compelling fakes, creations from some clever bastards; one forger in particular created several authentic looking scrolls, and sold them before the experts figured it out.

            As he looked at the number of pages that waited to be translated, he realized this was not a one night task left before him. The question of their authenticity was weighing heavy on his mind. Antonio had known scholars who had spent their entire lives searching for King Solomon's Scrolls; but he did not have that much time to find the answers hidden within the Scrolls that dealt with the prophecy.

             "Me-lekh shlomo, are you legitimate?" He whispered. "King Solomon, damn it, my career is at stake, were you everything they say?"

            In the hallucination, an old Jewish man appeared prior to the woman, "Was that old man you Sholmo?" At least the old man should provide him with a sign, something. Glancing at his paper, he was laughing at the word ba-nah; build a Temple to save the Earth from danger. He couldn't forget, Adam, humanity a small little thing to forget.

            Hidden Mountain must be the reference point, the reg-sheet or summit the structures described would open the omphalos, polestar, or gateway as it provides nourishment to na-pha, heal.

            The 13th gate is the nexus, which opens the navel providing nourishment to heal Earth. The Gatekeepers 13, one of the chosen should come from each of the Tribes. Through the rest of the translation, he would learn more that much was correct.

            Starting to turn his laptop off deciding instead to check his email noticing Max had sent some game videos.

            He took the laptop to his bed after finishing the necessities, with no clue why as exhaustion took over his body. He started the video as he slammed down a half a liter of water, glancing at the video he choked; water was spewed out of his mouth onto the bed, him, and the computer. Still choking, damn, he was hallucinating again! It was the woman in his vision! He hit the fast-forward button and then rewind, in disbelief he saw she was still there, he started one of the others, almost scared, and then he fumbled for his cell. Unable to keep his eyes off her, he dialed Max. This time he spoke first.

             “Max, what is her real name?”

             “Hello Antonio.”

             “Damn it, no games tell me everything you know.”

             “Her name is Amanda Messenger.” Antonio’s heart missed a beat.

            “What do you know, Max?”

             “I don't know. What are you up to, Antonio? Do you know her?”

            “A little," he was stretching the truth.

             “Max, I met her; I have been looking for her. You were right, I am going to...I mean will like her. Tell me what you know, between you and me. Help me Max,” he was pleading.

             “She writes and lives in the Midwest where she grows grapes for wine.”

             “Max, what does she write about?”

             “It's spiritual things and life lesson stuff.”

             “What else can you tell me? Is she single? I’m guessing she is, but how single?”

             “Very, does not seem to be looking,” Max, informed.

             “Max, she is awesome, is she not?”

             “She is a great lady, Antonio.”

             “Is there anything else?”

            “I can't think of anything.”

            “Max, anything, you think of anything you call. When is she due in Vegas?”

            “Tomorrow afternoon.”

             “Oh yeah, well so am I, adjust my room. I'm coming sooner than expected, see you then.” Hanging up before Max could get nosy was always a good thing, Antonio thought as he hit the end button just as Max started jabbering!

            He lay in his bed focused on the video until he went to sleep.

            Antonio opened his eyes a few hours later, looked at the clock, and realized it was almost 9 AM, he showered and dressed in a hurry, and then called about his glasses; he was pleased to discover they would be ready for him to pick up in an hour. Glancing at the clock, he made one more call, his favorite bookstore. They promised to keep the books ready for pickup; he could swing by get his glasses, cross the street to the bookstore, and still make it to the plane on time. With a few minutes to spare, he used his extra time and started Googling Amanda Messenger. How in the hell was he going to get to this woman? He could not walk up and say to her, “Hi, I got a concussion and hallucinated that you love me. Do you want to go out with me? By the way, old King Solomon wants you to help me save the world.”

            This needed a plan, one that would work, fail proof. She was not showing up in his dreams only to disappear from him; she had taken a part of his soul and branded it forever with her face, and he was going to return the favor.

Chapter 3

“From a little spark, may burst a roaring flame.”

— Dante Alighieri

            Amanda felt comfortable as she glanced at the familiar faces gathered around the table. She had played them all before, and knew each ones tells, and their skill level. After two years of steady playing and advancing through the ranks, she had finally reached the pentacle table. There was only one empty seat and she wondered which of the high-seat players was not yet here.

            She allowed her imagination to wander as she tried to alleviate the panic she was feeling about this all-important game. She turned her head to respond to a tap on her shoulder, with a smile she addressed the smartly attired server, gave her usual drink order and turned to face the empty chair once more…

            Only now, it was not empty! She literally lost her breath at the sight of the man who now sat across the table from her! In past conversations, she had overheard his name, and had heard, that he was handsome; but whoever coined that word had never laid eyes on Antonio Dominguez.

            Trying to appear casually unaffected by his presence, she used the servers taking his order to look him over. His profile was strong, his neck stretched up from broad shoulders, and she suddenly understood why the Ancients celebrated the neck in Biblical text; the strength of a pillar, what an apt term! His beautiful neck supported a head covered in dark, shiny curls that would have made any woman green with envy. His rich golden-amber skin stretched over a bone structure that spoke of excellent genetic gifts. Hmmm? Maybe he was an Argentine; they had that luscious thick hair and complexion.

            Oops! He almost caught her staring but she shifted her gaze over his left shoulder, and waved at…well actually nobody, but it made him turn and look behind him! That one brief glance at his serious face, head on was enough for her to see the strength that resided there. His was that inner strength that came from within. He had laugh lines around his mouth, and his olive-black eyes. The small wire-framed glasses he wore did not distract at all from the beauty of his face, and neither did the abrasion and bruise she saw on his forehead. His eyes were a curiosity she would like to explore on a closer level. Perhaps she could lean over and remove them slowly….