Larger Font   Reset Font Size   Smaller Font  

The Chaac Ornamentation

Michael Carter

The Chaac Ornamentation

  By Michael Carter (c) 1997, 2012

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may

  not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to

  share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy

  for each reader. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it,

  or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to

  hard work of this author.

  *

  “Members of the jury, I ask you this.”

  The defendant spoke in a low but clear tone. His words were soft and seemed to flow to the ear. He wore an inexpensive suit, and the suit was improved by him wearing it.

  “If, as the honourable Dr.Greppen suggests, I was in the Gallery on the night in question and I did indeed leave fingerprints, then where, may I ask, do the leather gloves shown as Exhibit B enter into the equation?”

  The defendant sat down again, a slight barely-legible grin on his scarred and burned face.

  “Dr.Greppen.” ordered the judge. “Take the stand please.”

  The ‘honourable doctor’ did so, bringing with him a clear polythene bag with a pair of leather gloves inside.

  “I have already sworn the oath, my lord.” he said and the judge nodded. “These gloves, Exhibit B, were discovered in the staircase between floors three and four of the Public Archeological Gallery in Stoker Lane. Floor three is where the defendant was apprehended, and as you are aware the Gallery exhibits at the centre of this odd case were being displayed on the fourth floor.”

  “Please get to the facts, Doctor.” interfered the judge, doing with panache what he got paid for, “Whether you deem this an ‘odd’ case or not, is not the issue here.”

  “Yes, yes, of course. It is my theory, and that of the investigating police force, that these gloves once belonged to the defendant, who had worn them with the intention to steal one or more of the items on display. We hypothesise however, that the defendant while proceeding up the stairs came upon a cunning double-cross. He thought that by removing the gloves and discarding them on the floor and then going ahead with his plan as normal he would create a great confusion. He believed that we would be fooled into believing his pathetic claim that the fingerprints were there to frame him, but not actually of his own doing. Upon finding the gloves in the stairwell, he believed, we would see them as further evidence of a second unknown party; the real criminal.

  “It is almost beneath me to put forward such a simple notion, but we are certain that we are correct. What, my lord, does the defendant have to say about that?”

  Dr.Greppen sat down, quite obviously pleased with himself and was busy exchanging knowing looks with two police officers when the judge asked the defendant to take the stand again.

  “Well?” asked the judge.

  “Well what, my lord? All I can say in response to that is that the universities must be really short of numbers these days. If you don’t mind me asking you a personal question, Doctor Greppen, where did you get your degree? I might also enquire as to which sorcerers magic hat did you retrieve that theory from. It was most amusing.”

  “Explain yourself, please.” barked the judge.

  “A double-cross?” said the defendant, “ Hmmm? My, my, that is clever! Before I respond to the good doctors attack, I should like to hear again just when exactly did I make my...what were the words...’pathetic claim’ of being framed?”

  Dr.Greppen shot up and asked the judge squarely;

  “My lord, what kind of defendant does not even stick to court order and instead of answering implicating questions, mocks the law and asks his own. I advise that his case be closed and he be given the usual sentence.”

  The judge looked over his glasses at the thin man who had spoken, almost in contempt.

  “It is a fair question, Doctor, and would you do the court the honour of answering it.”

  Greppen straightened up, and sniffled his nasal passages clean.

  “Of course, sir, of course...if I could just consult my notes.” For a full minute and a half, the man gulped repeatedly while shuffling the papers on his desk and emptying the contents of his briefcase in front of him. The public audience, jury, judge and defendant watched him silently.

  “Well, Doctor Greppen.”

  “Yes my lord, yes...I...I...er...” he said, and rummaged through his notes again.

  “Do you have a problem, Doctor?”

  “Yes, I- Er, I seem to have a slight...misplacement of that particular statement which the accused gave. If I, er, may be allowed to my briefing room I’m sure I could locate it.”

  The judge sighed deeply and said “You will hurry.”

  “Thank you, sir” said Greppen, and left quickly with a policeman. As soon as he was out of the door, the defendant once again stood up and addressed the judge.

  “May I take this opportunity, my lord, to relate to those here gathered the actual facts of the occasion in question. You see, the honourable doctor’s statement is, to be quite candid, merely a fiction. It is really quite a creation, and it has no solidity in the real world, only in his mind. He may take quite a while to find it. May I, in the meantime, take the stand?”

  The judge retorted instantly; “I shall warn you one more time, Mr Waters, that you rise and speak only when you are commanded to do so.”

  “I apologise sir. I am not a frequent attendee of these functions.”

  “I understand.” said the judge, and looked at the door. “Yes, you may take the stand, but only until Mr.Greppen returns with his...evidence.” Mr Waters saw that last word as hugely sardonic and had to mentally restrain himself from chuckling.

  The defendant, Mr.Waters, took the stand.

  “My lord, ladies, friends and gentlemen, I do not wish to be laughed out of court nor to commit another mild heresy of the law, but I must confess to having been economical with the truth where my real name and address are concerned. I shall explain why very soon, but first of all, let me tell you a story. My lord, do I have your permission to speak for several minutes without interruption, however bizarre my claims?”

  “We shall see, Mr Waters, we shall see. Proceed.”

  “Thank you, my lord. As you are aware, I was on the fourth floor of the fine Archeological Gallery in the city, ‘trying to steal’ a certain exhibit from Mexico called the Chaac Ornamentation when I was unceremoniously arrested by the usually astute peacekeepers of this pleasant land. Now that particular artefact, so the experts tell us, was fashioned from clay and jade in AD 700 by the Classical Mayan civilization of pre-Columbian America, and that it was meant as a symbol of belief, demonstrating to Chaac, the Rain God of the Mayans, that his subjects still believed in him and maintained their faith. As some of you may recall, the artefact was discovered almost twenty years ago in a deep ceremonial well at the Temple of Cuz’xcha in the jungles of the Yucatan region of Mexico. Experts offered the notion that this ornate sculpture was cast into the well after a certain period of worship time had elapsed, and in its place, for a new period of worship, was constructed a new figurine , one which has yet to be discovered. I’m afraid that this is all wrong.”

  ‘Mr.Waters paused here, and took a deep breath.

  “Am I boring you, my Lord, with insubstantial facts and irrelavencies?”

  The judge cleared his throat; “You may carry on, Mr.Waters, but be warned that this cannot be taken as evidence at this time.”

  The defendant, his face plagued with scars and old burns, resumed his speech; “These are the facts; the Chaac Ornamentation was constructed in 3114 BC by a being by the name of Chaloc, the similarities to the name that bestows the artefact you will no doubt n
ote. Chaloc was one of the founders of the not-so-fabled Atlantean civilisation, just off the western coast of America, but had been torn apart many thousands of years before in-“

  “Objection.” shouted one of the police-officers in the audience.

  The judge turned to him sharply and warned: “Sir, I do not know your name and you are no doubt here on official business, but you have no authority in issuing an objection. Besides which, we are no longer officially in session, and the minutes have ceased to record. I am sure that many persons here present share your sentiments towards Mr Waters but I am allowing him to continue, if only for him to highlight the extent of his delusion. Carry on, Mr Waters.”

  “Thank you, my lord. I appreciate your viewpoint, but I am not delusional. Now to continue, Chaloc had been born many thousands of years earlier in a maelstrom of wind, fire, earth and water that spewed forth the full complement of twenty-four Earth-governing ‘Gods’. It is not pertinent to describe Chaloc’s life up until the construction of the Chaac Ornamentation, so we shall take it from there. We do, however, have to digress a little into the past, back to 10,000BC when the mighty continent which you term Atlantis was lost. Indeed, as your writers suggest, it was buried beneath the sea, and it is this event that your Christian bible speaks of as The Great Flood. The reason behind the downfall of Atlantis was that the