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likeness of a face in profile carved deeply into the stone.
"Pure jade," said Aaron reverently.
It had been highly polished, this object, and the face in profile wore an elaborate and beautifully realized headdress,
which if I'm not mistaken, involved both plumage and ears of corn.
The carved portrait or ritual image, whichever it might be, was as large as a human face.
As Merrick turned the object, I saw that a full figure was etched into the other side. There was a small hole near the
narrow tapering end of the object, perhaps to allow suspension from a belt.
"My God," said Aaron under his breath. "It's Olmec, isn't it? It must be priceless."
"Olmec, if I have any guess," I answered. "Never have I seen such a large and exquisitely decorated object outside of a
museum."
Merrick showed no surprise.
"Don't say things you don't mean, Mr. Talbot," she said gently. "You have some like this in your own vault." She locked
her eyes on me for a long dreamy moment.
I could scarcely breathe. How could she know such a thing? But then I told myself she might have learnt such
information from Aaron. Only, a glance at him let me know I was quite wrong.
"Not as beautiful, Merrick," I answered her quite truthfully. "And ours are fragments, as well."
When she gave me no reply, when she merely stood there holding the gleaming axe blade with both hands out before
her, as if she liked to look at the light on it, I went on.
"It's worth a fortune, child," I said, "and I never expected to see such a thing in this place."
She thought for a long second, and then gave me a solemn forgiving nod.
"In my opinion," I went on, struggling to redeem myself, "it comes from the oldest known civilization in Central
America. And I can feel my heart thumping as I look at it."
"Maybe even older than Olmec," she said, looking up at me again. Her wide gaze swept lazily over Aaron. The gold
light of the bulb spilled down upon her and the elaborately dressed figure. "That's what Matthew said after we took it from
the cave beyond the waterfall. That's what Oncle Vervain said when he told me where to look."
I looked down again on the splendid face of shining green stone with its blank eyes and flattened nose.
"You don't need me to tell you," I said, "that it's all very likely so. The Olmec come from nowhere, or so the textbooks
tell us."
She nodded.
"Oncle Vervain was born from one of those Indians who knew the deepest magic. Colored man and red woman made
Oncle Vervain and Great Nananne, and Cold Sandra's mother was Great Nananne's grandchild, so it's inside of me."
I couldn't speak. There weren't any words to express my trust or my wonder.
Merrick set the axe blade to one side, on top of the many bundles, and reached for another with equal care. This was a
smaller, longer bundle, and when she unwrapped it, I was again too breathless for words.
It was a tall figure, richly carved, and obviously a god or king, I could not say which. As with the axe blade, the size
alone was impressive, not to mention the gloss of the stone.
"Nobody knows," the child said, speaking to my thoughts very directly. "Only, you see this scepter, it's magic. If he's a
king, he's a priest and god too."
Humbled, I studied the detailed carving. The long narrow figure wore a handsome headdress which came low over his
fierce, wide eyes, and down to his shoulders all around. On his naked chest was a disc suspended from the radial collar
about his shoulders and neck.
As for the scepter, he seemed about to be striking the open palm of his left hand with it, as though preparing to do
violence with it when his enemy or victim approached. It was chilling in its menace and beautiful in its sincerity and
intricacy. It was polished and seemed to glow, as did the mask.
"Shall I stand him up or lay him down?" Merrick asked, looking at me. "I don't play with these creatures. No, I would
never do such a thing. I can feel the magic in them. I've conjured with them. I don't play. Let me cover him once more so
he can be quiet."
Having rewrapped the idol, she reached for yet a third bundle. I could not calculate the number that remained in the
closely packed case.
I could see that Aaron was speechless. One did not have to be an expert in Mesoamerican antiquities to realize what
these artifacts were.
As for Merrick, she began to talk as she unwrapped this third wonder&
"We went down there, and followed the map that Oncle Vervain had given us. And Cold Sandra kept praying to Oncle
Vervain to tell us where to go. It was Matthew and Cold Sandra and me. Cold Sandra kept saying, 'Aren't you happy now,
you never went to school? You're always complaining. Well, you're getting to go on a great adventure.' And to tell the
truth, that's what it was."
The cloth fell away from the long sharp pointed pick in her hands. It was all of a piece of green jade, and its handle bore
the distinct feathers of the hummingbird and two small deeply carved eyes. I had seen its type before in museums, but
never such a fine example. And now I understood Oncle Vervain's love of the birds in the yard beyond.
"Yes, sir," said Merrick. "He said those birds were magic. He was the one to put the feeders out. I told you. Who's going
to fill the feeders when I leave this place behind?"
"We'll care for the place," said Aaron in his comforting fashion. But I could see he was greatly concerned about
Merrick. She went on talking.
"The Aztecs believed in hummingbirds. They hover in the air like magic. They turn this way and that and make another
color. There's a legend that Aztec warriors became hummingbirds when they died. Oncle Vervain said magicians need to
know everything. Oncle Vervain said our kind were all magicians, that we came four thousand years before the Aztecs.
He told me about the paintings on the cave wall."
"And you know where this cave is?" Aaron asked her. He was quick to clarify his meaning. "Darling, you must tell no
one. Men lose common sense over secrets such as these."
"I have Oncle Vervain's pages," Merrick answered in the same dreamy voice. She laid the sharp blade of this knife back
down on the bed of cotton parcels. Offhandedly, she laid bare a fourth object, a small squat idol as beautifully carved as
the one already revealed. Her hand went back to the perforator with its round, hummingbird handle. "They used this to
draw blood in their magic. That's what Oncle Vervain told me I would find, a thing for drawing blood; that's what
Matthew said this was."
"This suitcase is filled with such objects, isn't it?" I asked. "These are by no means the most significant of the lot?" I
glanced about. "What else is hidden in this attic?"
She shrugged. For the first time she looked hot and uncomfortable under the low roof.
"Come on," she said politely, "let's us pack up the suitcase and go down to the kitchen. Tell your people not to open all
those boxes, just to move them to where they will be safe. I'll make you some good coffee. I make the best coffee. I make
better coffee than Cold Sandra or Great Nananne. Mr. Talbot, you're about to faint from the heat, and Mr. Lightner, you're
too worried. No one's going to break into this house any time ever, and your house has guards all over night and day."
She rewrapped the axe blade, the idol, and the perforator carefully, then closed the suitcase and snapped its two rusted
locks. Now, and only now, did I see the withered old cardboard tag on it listing an airport in Mexico, and the stamps that
indicated the suitcase had traveled many miles beyond that.
I held my questions until we had come down into the cooler air of the kitchen. I realized that what she'd said about my
failing in the heat above had been perfectly true. I was almost ill.
She set the suitcase down, took off her white pantyhose and her shoes, and turned on a rusted round fan above the [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]