Mayan Moon [ONC2024]

Chapter 3

The air was crisp on this cool February morning as Roger ran on the service road through Riverdale Park. Surrounded by tall trees and singing birds, he was momentarily transported to his youth in Arandas. It was hard to believe he was in New York City.

The mansion he had learned last night was a cluster of four houses nestled in the trees on Palisade Ave. He was living in one of the houses which they reserved for guests. The largest of the four was Claire's grandfather's dwelling; she now lived there alone.

The other two belong to her mother and younger sister, but they were essentially abandoned. Both of them preferred to live in the Hamptons.

He stopped in the front yard of his "home," took a deep breath, and started to walk off the run. After a few minutes of cooling down, he began to perform the K'at Balam forms his Tata had taught him.

"Our greatest warriors moved like jaguars; silently, precisely, deadly," Tata would tell him as they practiced the subtle moves.

As he moved rhythmically, habitually, he remembered Claire's stunning entrance. The woman was dangerous. He could see her derailing his life if he became fascinated by her beauty. Not that she hinted that she was willing, but still, last night, as they talked, he had yearned for the hunt.

It seemed that Chester had been busy before and after their encounter. Claire had found a file with his family's details that had been compiled two weeks before their meeting.

It highlighted his Mayan descent and not much else. Perhaps the chance encounter wasn't so chance, after all, they had concluded.

There wasn't much else in the file except a curious piece of paper with the words "Dr. Marquéz" handwritten in pen and circled in red. Claire had promised to look further at the office and her grandfather's computer.

He, in turn, had told Claire about the meeting that night and how her grandfather had only said, "Run."

He dug up the forgotten card the old man had left for him, and they read the message together.

"Roger, thank you for the healing. Please see me as soon as possible. If for some reason I'm gone, find my granddaughter, Claire."

The word "healing" hung ominously in Roger's mind. When Claire asked, he only said he had bandaged the wounds to stop the bleeding. He was not willing to reveal his secret.

Had the old man known about his gift? Had the meeting been on purpose? Had he been attacked, or was it a test? The questions swirled in his mind.

As he finished his forms, he noticed Claire to the side, watching him shirtless with a wide smile. Embarrassed, he quickly put on the sweaty T-shirt he had on while running.

"Good morning, Roger. Do you drink coffee?" She asked while holding a 12-ounce paper cut toward him. Her smile is dazzling.

"Good morning, Miss Williams. Yes, thanks." He took the cup.

"I tried to make some this morning but couldn't figure out that contraption in there!" He added sheepishly.

"Roger, we've shared a meal and a bottle of wine and are married; I think you can call me Claire. Aren't we at least friends now?" Dangerous! There was a slippery slope toward closeness he didn't want to get near.

He thought about the night before.

They had chatted about their lives while drinking wine until they finished the bottle. Claire had gone to Wharton and worked her way up to CEO. She had also lost her father during her teenage years. She loved her grandfather very much and missed him deeply. She wanted to follow in his footsteps since she was a little girl and now felt lost without him, alone in a huge house full of ghosts.