A Golden Legend

Chapter 12

Gervasio Guerrero drove the black Mercedes Benz through the automatically controlled gate inside the wide esplanade lined by gardens, and stopped it in front of the stairway of the Chehab-Cifuentes mansion. Two Corinthian columns adorned the sides of the door of walnut with heavy bronze fixtures. The building, dating back to the 1950s, was sumptuous but not tacky, big but not in excess, functional despite having 60 years due to the numerous reforms implemented by successive owners.

Guerrero had picked up the car in the airport parking lot, when together with Teresa they came down from the private plane that returned them to Mexico DF. He descended from the car and walked around it to politely open Teresa´s door, but the woman, who had little affection for the strict codes within which her family moved, was already walking up the stairs.

At the lobby her grandfather Jorge Chehab, true owner of the Palace and founder of the dynasty, was waiting for her. Second generation of a Syrian family arrived in 1918, Don Jorge -as everybody knew him- had made his fortune in the textile industry, and currently had factories in several sites of Mexico, Guatemala and El Salvador. He was still in business, though he now traveled only in exceptional cases.

Jorge hugged and kissed her granddaughter with relief; the girl, only granddaughter of an also unique daughter, was the Sun of his life in his older age. The overprotective and complacent grandfather intended to offset the weak presence of the father figure in Teresa´s life. Gonzalo Cifuentes, research archaeologist of the Anthropological Museum of Mexico City was a man withdrawn and closed in himself and in his profession, something like the opposite side of the coin of his charismatic father-in-”law. He had only had a decisive influence in the selection of Teresa´s university career, more by emulation than by having worried about convincing the girl to follow in his footsteps. Leila, the mother, although a relevant social figure in her circle was only a grey figure only limited to suffer with the adventures and hazards-real or suspected- that her only daughter ran.

The extended family met for dinner around the large table, chaired by Don Jorge. The welcome given to his daughter by Cifuentes had been of authentic but somewhat distant joy, while his wife had not stopped crying and really had not heard what her daughter had to say.

Teresa, at her grandfather´s request made a more or less detailed narration of what had happened, emphasizing some things and diminishing the relevance of others.

“Could you describe the piece that you found?”Asked the father, naively exposing himself to his wife´s wrath.

“But, how important is it?” Exclaimed Leila bitterly “Because of these gadgets she could have lost her live.”

“Is not so” intervened Teresa without much intimate conviction “if those horrible men had had bad intentions I would not be here.”

“At least they did not abuse you” consoled herself the mother, who at the meeting alone with her daughter had been interested by this aspect in particular.

“In fact the group, despite being integrated mostly by small part-time crooks, had however some rigid discipline, no doubt by the presence of the Cuban and especially the Russian, who I think had a military past. It wasn't an out of control band.

“And what are you going to do now, rest for a while I hope?” Leila asked.

“I called McPherson, who is convening a meeting the day after tomorrow. He told me that he is planning an expedition the coming month.”

Leila protested moaning about the anxieties her only daughter exposed her to. Jorge, who until then had kept silence, cut off abruptly.

“You are thinking about the consequences that it will have on you, and not actually in your daughter” then turning to his granddaughter he asked her about something that had intrigued him “but tell me who is that man that picked you up and took you to Cancun?”

Teresa blushed briefly and momentarily lost her composure, but then regained it and her usual self-security.

“Grandfather, as well as Mom just thinks about herself, you are still acting like a jealous Bedouin”  Leila shook her head offended, she would have never addressed her   parents in that way, but Teresa was not Leila. Don Jorge, instead of getting angry laughed loudly.

“This is my granddaughter certainly! But don´t you get away from my question, who is that man?”

Teresa did an aseptic and refined version of the relationship with Marcelo, feeling a little overwhelmed by hiding the truth and her feelings to her most intimate family.

“Then, was not a typical, petulant and cocky Argentine?”  Don Jorge insisted.

Teresa, not used to give anyone explanations about her life, abruptly changed the topic of conversation, which only managed to increase her grandfather´s curiosity, which however remained in silence, convinced that he could get more details when they were alone with her granddaughter.

Two days later, Teresa drove her small and low profile Honda up to the University. When approaching the pavilion where they gathered usually she crossed with Lupita, who warmly greeted her. Lupita was Guatemalan, companion in the period in which they were studying together, and since then Teresa´s intimate friend and confidant.

“What news has been in my absence?” Teresa inquired.

“Well, you will see “answered elusively Lupita.

Teresa was rather surprised for not receiving a straight answer to her question, but she ignored the subject of for the moment. Arriving at the meeting room she was greeted by several of her companions, with whom she had shared many expeditions in the past. Talk revolved around her adventure in Yucatan, which had transpired in the cloisters from some isolated journalistic news. All demanded her explanations and clarifications on the matter.

After a while Magnus McPherson entered, with his usual campaign outfit, accompanied by a very young woman of strong Oriental features. Teresa looked inquiringly at Lupita, who resignedly said.

“I'm sorry, this is Magnus´ new conquest; the girl is called Nyoman, she is from Bali, Indonesia” Lupita looked at her askance fearing to see an expression of fury attributable to jealousy in the face of her friend, but was surprised to find instead an enigmatic smile and a relaxed face, as out of relief. She was trying to figure out how to inquire about the reason for this unexpected reaction when the thunderous voice of McPherson called the dozen of concurrent to a meeting.

“Well, it seems that we will finally learn what the gringo is planning” said Lupita.