The Apocalypse Calendar (7 page)

The geologists were up at the
crack of dawn. After a quick breakfast, they drove to the area south of Cerro de La Cruz and began their sampling in the arroyo. By noon, they had finished sampling most of the La Caja Formation. Miller could clearly see that the La Caja so far included four members: (1) a lower member, consisting of black shale with limestone concretions; (2) a thick member, consisting of thin bedded black radiolarian chert, thin beds of dark gray limestone, and dark gray shale with occasional limestone nodules; (3) a thin black shale member, with sparse limestone nodules; and (4) an upper member, consisting of dark gray siliceous shale, thin-bedded siltstone, and thin-bedded dark gray pelagic limestone. The chert, black shale, and limestone all contained abundant radiolarian microfossils. Many of the limestone samples contained well-preserved ammonites. The best exposures of the upper two members were at the cemetery and the hill to its north.

After sampling the upper part of the formation exposed at Puerto del Cielo, Miller drove the van to the hill to the north. He could see from a distance that the contact between the La Caja Formation and Chapulhuacan Limestone was exposed at the north end of the hill. As the van approached the north end of the hill, Miller was surprised to see that there were two scarecrow-like figures along the side of the hill. One figure appeared to be a man and the other a woman, each wearing a straw hat. The area that needed to be sampled was inside a fenced area that also included the scarecrow figures. The barbed wire gate to the fenced area had a doll head on each fence post.

Miller said, “This is getting a little spooky! I’m not sure what’s going on here. It sure looks like some sort of voodoo.”

It was almost dark; the sun was going down behind the hill. This made the place even scarier. Everyone was beginning to feel even more uncomfortable. They quickly collected their samples and retreated to the campsite. After a quick dinner with what food they had left, Arturo said, “We’d better turn in. Tomorrow we need to head for Torréon and get the AC fixed. We’re lucky we got this far without the damn belt slipping off again. There ought to be an AC repair place in Torréon where we can get the vehicle fixed. We’ll be lucky if they can get it fixed tomorrow afternoon. Say goodnight to your coyote friends!”

Gary said, “I already gave them the leftovers from dinner. They should be pretty happy.”

“I hope so. I don’t want to listen to them howl all night.”

At sunrise, ground fog encompassed the
campsite. The smell of sage was in the air. It was difficult for everyone to get up and face the early morning chill. By the time the geologists had warmed themselves up with several cups of hot coffee and a breakfast consisting of scrambled eggs and bacon, they were beginning to get warmed up. By now the ground fog was burning off and the temperature was rising rapidly.

Miller said with a strange look, “I had the damndest dream last night. It was really spooky. First, I dreamed that I saw my former wife rising from her grave. She was dressed in her white bridal dress and beckoned me to come join her. Then, I dreamed that I saw a battle going on between two parties of Indians. One group was badly outnumbered but fought fiercely. The leader was an Indian chief, wearing the headdress that we saw on the Indian in the cave at the Río Vinasco. His followers fell one by one to the onslaught of the larger group of warriors. Finally, only the chief was left. He was badly wounded and covered with blood, but he managed to crawl into a cave. The Aztec chieftain died a painful death with his body draped over a stone box that he was trying to protect. I saw his spirit rise from his body and assume his likeness.”

Gary said, “I had a weird dream, too. I dreamed that I saw a large cylindrical spacecraft land in some jungle inhabited by Indians. The Indians were really frightened by what they saw, but finally they were befriended by the spacemen. I saw the spacemen giving an Indian chief a shiny metallic disk—like the one we found in the cave.”

Arturo said, “Yeah, I had a dream, too. It kind of relates to Frank’s dream. I saw a group of Indians find our Río Vinasco cave and cart off the limestone box containing the disk. It eventually ended up in the hands of their chief. The chief didn’t quite know what to make of the box and its contents, but he decided to put it in his treasury.”

Felipe said, “I guess we were all affected by the San Pedro graveyard and the spooky hill that we saw; I had a dream, too. I dreamed that I saw Hernando Cortés and his troops fighting the Aztecs in Tenochitlán. I saw the Emperor Moctezuma ordering one of his chieftains to take the stone box containing the weird metal disk to the Río Vinasco cave.”

“Let’s break camp and get out of here. I never want to go near that damn Voodoo Hill again. We need to head for Torréon. Gary, make sure all of the rock samples are in the van,” Miller said.

Twenty minutes later, the geologists were about five miles north of San Pedro del Gallo at a place called La Peña. The van suddenly stopped.

“Damn it,” Miller said. “This is a hell of a note! I bet the belt slipped off again. Gary, lift up the hood and let’s take a look. I hope the belt didn’t break. We are a long way from a mechanic.”

About that point in time, a bus rumbled down the hill to the bottom of the ravine where the van had stalled out. This was a typical Latin American bus that you could find in Mexico, Columbia, or anywhere in the Caribbean. It was loaded to the hilt with passengers. People were even riding on the rear bumper and hanging on for dear life. Cages full of chickens were strapped to the roof of the bus. Apparently, this was the bus that ran between Mapimí and San Pedro del Gallo.

The bus stopped. The driver and a few other men helped the geologists put the belt back on the pulley while the passengers stood around and watched. Finally, the crippled van was ready to head out again. The geologists thanked the bus driver for his help and they headed out toward the main east–west highway that ran to Mapimí.

Miller said, “I think we’d better stop at Mapimí and see if our friend the mechanic can fix up the van so we can make it to Torréon. I don’t want to break down again. I’m beginning to think that stone box we picked up in the cave at the Río Vinasco has some sort of curse on it. The dreams we all had after visiting Voodoo Hill seem to be related to Indians and that crazy-ass stone box.”

It seemed like it took an eternity for the van to reach the main road to Mapimí and Bermejillo. Everybody breathed a sigh of relief when they finally reached the intersection and pointed the van to the east. At least they had reached the main road. The old institute Dodge van hadn’t gone more than a mile when it suddenly stopped at a place where the road dipped down into an arroyo. Felipe said a few unintelligible words in Spanish under his breath that Miller guessed were curse words.

Miller said, “Not again! I thought we would at least make it to Mapimí!”

By then it was already two o'clock. This time, it was clear that the troublesome belt had totally disintegrated. The road to Mapimí wasn’t all that well travelled. A few cars and trucks passed by over a period of an hour. The temperature was well over 115 degrees Fahrenheit. The geologists were glad that they still had plenty of water and Gatorade. Every now and then, people stopped and asked if they could help, but when they found out that the belt had broken, they decided there wasn’t much they could do.

Finally, after another hour, an old two-ton Dodge flatbed truck stopped near the disabled van. The driver and his son thought they could help. The father, Pildo Rosario, introduced himself and his ten-year-old son to the four geologists. Pildo was a lean guy, about six feet tall, with a weathered face sporting a bushy mustache. He was dressed in blue denim coveralls and looked as tough as a rock. Pildo told the geologists that he lived in the village of La Cadena, which was not more than a mile from the main road. If they stood at the top of the arroyo, they could easily see the cluster of adobe houses with sheet metal roofs comprising the village.

Pildo said, “I think I have an old belt that is at least good enough to get the van to my house. You can spend the night at my place, and I’ll take you to Mapimí in the morning to purchase a new belt.”

Fortunately, Pildo found a belt. It didn’t fit too well, but it was good enough to get the van out of the arroyo and proceed to Pildo’s house. The house was one of those that could be seen from the main road. It was a typical adobe Mexican country house with dirt floors and a tin roof. Chickens and dogs roamed in and out of the only door. One of Pildo’s daughters apparently was assigned the job of chasing the chickens out of the house.

Although Pildo invited the four geologists to sleep in his house, they decided it would be better to sleep outside. Miller couldn’t visualize sleeping on a dirt floor with dogs, kids, and possibly chickens. He advised the two graduate students that they would be pitching a tent. Miller and Arturo decided to sleep in the van.

A quick dinner was prepared with some canned beef stew and avocados that they still had on hand. After having a few beers around a meager campfire, Felipe said, “I think that we’ve been cursed by that damn Voodoo Hill at San Pedro del Gallo.”

“Yeah, I think you could be right—–though I don’t normally believe in this sort of stuff,” Miller responded.

Arturo said, “The dreams we had after our visit to Voodoo Hill were really creepy and hard to understand.”

Gary said, “I think there is more to this than our visit to Voodoo Hill. Don’t forget that we had our first problems with the belt before we even reached Mapimí. There seems to be a tie-in between the weird dreams we had after visiting Voodoo Hill and the cave we visited at Huayacocotla. Finding the skeleton of that Indian chief draped over the limestone box with the metal disk was even spookier than Voodoo Hill.”

Miller said, “I think you have a good point, Gary. Well, let’s turn in. Tomorrow is going to be a busy day. With a little luck and Pildo’s help, maybe we can make it to Torréon. I’m sure Pildo and his family will be up at the crack of dawn.”

The day dawned with the crowing
of rosters all over the small village. After everyone had breakfast, Pildo said, “Let’s see if we can get your van going. I’ll drive you to the mechanic in Mapimí that you used before. I think I know the guy. He has fixed my vehicles off and on. He can probably find a belt that will be good enough to get you to Mapimí. Then, when you get back to Mapimí, he can readjust it again. Hopefully, after this you’ll be able to make it to Torréon and get the air conditioner fixed properly.”

Arturo said, “I’ll go with Pildo. Frank, you, Gary, and Felipe might as well stay here and rest easy. It shouldn’t take us too long. I imagine we’ll be back in an hour. I have enough money left to buy a new belt. Maybe you guys can straighten up the van. Make sure all of the samples are in the burlap bags.”

Miller said with a feeling of relief, “Yeah, it’s better that you go. My Spanish might not be good enough to do the job.”

Gary, breaking into a smile, said, “Watch out for those mineral peddlers. If you’re late, we’ll know what you’ve been up to.”

Miller said, “We need to give Pildo some money for taking time to help us out. Arturo, it might also be good to offer to fill up his fuel tank once you get through in Mapimí. We’ll give him some cash later.”

Arturo and Pildo returned from Mapimí with a new belt in hand after an hour and a half. It took about forty minutes to install it. Pildo didn’t really have the right tools to get the belt fully tightened and seated, but they felt that the job he did would be good enough to get the van to Mapimí.

After saying good-bye to Pildo’s family, including the frisky dogs, the geologists headed the van towards Mapimí. Pildo said that he’d better follow the van to make sure it got at least as far as the mechanic’s shop. Miller drove very carefully, trying to keep a constant speed. The terrain was relatively flat, with only a few arroyos crossing the road and one major mountain pass. Everyone sighed in relief when they reached the mechanic’s shop. It was no fun being stranded along the road in brain-baking heat. The mechanic seated the belt as best he could on the faulty pulley. Arturo gave Pildo one hundred dollars in US currency, and with a few good-byes to everyone, the geologists took off for Torréon. Of course, the AC didn’t work, and it was not too comfortable even with the windows open—in 110-degree temperatures. In another two hours, the four geologists checked into a motel in Torréon.

Miller said, “Gary and Felipe, why don’t you take it easy at the motel. Arturo and I will try to find someone to fix the AC. The motel owner might know of someplace nearby.”

The AC repair shop that the motel owner suggested was only a few blocks away. By now, it was about two in the afternoon. Miller hoped that the repair shop could get the job done today, but this depended on whether the shop had the right part. The parts for US vehicles such as Dodge vans were often different from those manufactured in Mexico. Miller knew from past experience that it was even difficult to obtain a part for a Mexican vehicle that was over a year old.

In about two hours, the AC repair shop had repaired the AC with the proper pulley. Miller breathed a sigh of relief as they returned to the motel. At least the AC problem was behind them. Now he could relax and take the first shower that he had had in several days. Sponge baths camping out just didn’t quite cut it when it you worked in the hot sun all day. The motel had a fairly good restaurant built in, so the geologists kicked back and had a few beers and a good dinner. Tomorrow, they hoped to get at least as far as San Antonio, Texas.

The day dawned with the usual
blowing of horns, sirens, eighteen-wheelers, and a lot of smog. At breakfast, Gary asked with a somewhat troubled look, “Dr. Miller, how do you plan to get to San Antonio from here? Will we have to return to Saltillo?”

Miller responded with a smile, “No, we don’t need to go all the way back to Saltillo. There is a road that angles up to the Saltillo–Eagle Pass Road just east of here. We’ll take MX 30, which connects with MX 57. Although this will save us some time, part of the way we’ll be traveling through some bad desert country.”

Gary, still apprehensive, said, “I hope we don’t have any more problems with the van.”

Arturo asked, “Did everyone sleep well last night in the comfort of a real bed? I bet you guys missed the coyote pups yapping.”

Felipe said, “I slept okay for the most part, but I had a terrifying dream about volcanic eruptions, massive worldwide earthquakes, and huge tidal waves that destroyed coastal cities.”

Miller said, smiling, “You’ve been thinking too much about geology. I doubt if anything like that will ever happen, but you never know about Mother Earth she has a mind of her own! Well, let’s get moving. It’s going to be a long day.”

The trip to Eagle Pass went well in spite of everyone’s apprehensions. The AC managed to hold down the temperatures to a reasonable level.

Although they were supposed to get a refund for the bond they’d been required to post on the vehicle crossing the border into Mexico, Miller decided that it was best to go straight to the American side of the border without stopping. He decided that it wasn’t a very good idea to let the Mexican border authorities paw through the van again; the Mexican custom agents would undoubtedly want to examine the rock samples and camping equipment. They would probably ask a lot of questions that could only lead to trouble and countless delays. It was also possible that the officials wouldn’t allow the Americans to cross the border without paying a bribe—though in recent years, bribes at the border had been largely stopped by the Mexican government.

Miller could remember that in the old days, when he was young and even more foolish than he was now, he had to post a bond of two thousand dollars when he crossed the border. At that time, he worked for the University of Central California and was not furnished with a notarized copy of the title for the vehicle. Fortunately, nowadays, if you had all the correct paperwork, the fee on the vehicle was modest. Miller reflected with a grimace that there was a tremendous inequity in the gifts of NAFTA on the United States and Mexican sides of the border. For example, it was impossible to rent a vehicle in the States and drive it into Mexico. Moreover, if you wanted to rent a vehicle in Mexico, you could not even do so just over the border; you had to fly to an interior city like Monterrey and rent a vehicle there. Then, after you paid the excessive plane fare to get to Monterrey, you found out that the discounted car rental that had been reserved from Dallas was not available in Mexico. The typical scenario was that the car agent on the Mexican side—and Miller had dealt with numerous ones—only had a more expensive vehicle left. You could easily spend hundreds of dollars more than you intended to.

The geologists were relieved to reach the American side of the border.

They already had the proper immigration papers on hand. Immigration was usually not a problem on such university fieldtrips, unless the foreign student didn’t have the proper student visa. Customs was rigorous and usually one was forced to unload the vehicle. The customs people always seemed more eager to search the vehicle for plants and soil than they were interested in finding drugs, though in recent years, Miller was impressed by the number of drug-sniffing dogs present. The final questioning, at least if you lived in Texas, was about how much liquor you were bringing out of Mexico into the Texas.

After clearing US Customs, Miller headed the van towards San Antonio. They arrived in San Antonio at six o'clock and promptly checked into a motel along the River Walk.

At dinner, Miller said with a relieved look, “I am glad US Customs didn’t find the stone box with the metal disk. They might have confiscated it. I am sure it’s not worth much, but I would like to have it analyzed it by Dr. Semaj Retrac at the electron microprobe facility at the Institute. I plan to send photos of both the box and the disk to Dolores Clark. Hopefully, she can find somebody to analyze the inscriptions on both objects. I’m sure she’ll be interested in what we observed at the Río Vinasco cave. The stones with the greenish glow are still a mystery. They seem to be made of the same substance that comprises the stone in the middle of the disk.”

Arturo said, “Let’s turn in. I hope everyone will be able to sleep without having bad dreams.”

The drive home to Dallas was uneventful. Everyone was thankful for that. It took about five hours. With a stop in West for some Kolaches, they arrived at the Institute around two o'clock. Miller told Gary and Felipe to take the samples to the lab. He said with professorial authority, “Make sure you put the limestone box with the metal disk in a secure place. I don’t want anyone messing around with it. Tomorrow I will gather it up and keep it in my office. I need to take pictures of it and send them to Dr. Clark as soon as possible. Later, we’ll get the disk and the green stone analyzed with the electron microprobe.”