The Twelve (21 page)

Izapa

July 2012

T
HE ANCIENT TOWN OF IZAPA WAS LOCATED JUST NINE KILOMETERS
from the modern city of Tapachula, a commercial hub for the southernmost Chiapas district of Mexico, north of Guatemala.

Juan Acosta's father, Manuel, actually lived just outside of Tapachula, three kilometers from the ancient ballpark, which was Izapa's best-known archaeological ruin. Coffee was the dominant crop throughout the area, but in Izapa itself cacao was the principal source of cash.

Max could smell both when he visited.

He decided to go down on his own to meet with Manuel and to prepare for the coming together of the Twelve. He had checked with Running Bear, who had told him that Great Spirit would want the meeting to begin on August 11 at sunrise.

Before then, Max would have to find a hotel in Tapachula where everyone could stay the night before the gathering.

The only upscale hotel in Tapachula was relatively modern. Max made reservations as soon as he arrived and then arranged to rent two vans with local drivers.

***

The next day he sought out Manuel, who was almost eighty years old but had the energy of a much younger man. He still cultivated cacao trees on his small plot of land and hiked daily to the ancient site of Izapa—as his fathers and grandfathers had done before him—to open and close the entrance to the ancient ball field and the sacred monuments and other artifacts that tourists visited.

Manuel accepted small tips from tourists, but otherwise was an unpaid daykeeper, following the traditions of his ancestors. He prayed to his ancient Mayan gods, but only when in Izapa and only when opening and closing the site. In his everyday life he attended Catholic Mass and explained that he saw no conflict between believing in his ancient gods and in Jesus Christ.

Since Manuel spoke only broken English, Max addressed him in Spanish, explained the nature of his visit and his intentions to return on August 11 for a special ceremony with the Twelve.

“Es bueno,” Manuel replied. “Yo arreglo todo. Sé que es una reunion muy importante.”

Manuel explained to Max that August 11 was a sacred date that year and was the beginning of the final one hundred and thirty days of “love-energy” that would terminate on December 21, 2012—the same day on which the entire Long Count calendar would terminate.

This wasn't just an ordinary ending, but the end of a collection of calendars that had covered a period of twenty-six thousand years, Max realized even more than he had before.

As Manuel took him on a tour of the ancient site, he revealed that archeologists had recently confirmed that Izapa had been a thriving town thousands of years ago, with a population of as many as ten thousand people. The monuments showed evidence that it was in this place that the Long Count calendar had been conceived, then shared with other towns throughout Chiapas—and eventually throughout much of Central, North, and South America.

As Max listened in rapt silence, Manuel explained that the ritual ballgames that had been played in this very ballpark were ultimately connected to the calendar itself. According to Mayan belief, on the pivotal date of December 21, a shift of consciousness would have to occur if man were to survive beyond the “end of time.”

Despite the enormity of what he was saying, he spoke calmly, as if to any individual or tour group. And as he did, Max suddenly made a connection that had been eluding him ever since his trip to India.

He saw in his mind's eye the key string of numbers that had appeared repeatedly in B.N. Mahars's notebook—21122012. Because he was an American, he hadn't made the immediate connection. But elsewhere in the world, those numbers would reflect a specific date—21/12/2012.

December 21, 2012.

This couldn't be a coincidence.

Somehow, the meeting had to occur on the eleventh of August to begin a sequence that would end with 21122012. And all of the Twelve had to be present.

Max glanced around the sacred site to see if there was a suitable place for everyone to meet. He thought about the ball field itself but knew that they wouldn't be able to rope it off from the tourists who might come, and he had no idea how long the meeting of the Twelve might last. But he did know that it would best be held with some degree of privacy.

He peered into the distance, at the volcanoes to the east—Volcán Tacaná and the even higher Volcán Tajumulco—and asked Manuel if there might be a place to meet at the base of either of those.

Manuel smiled.

“Of course there is,” he replied, still in his Mexican tongue. “Follow me. There is even a cave where my ancient people used to perform powerful ceremonies. We no longer remember the rituals, or even what they were for, but our legends tell us that the ball field itself is oriented so the light of the sun will be directly over the Volcán Tajumulco at the moment of the winter solstice.”

After a twenty-minute ride in the rented jeep and a further twenty minutes of hiking, Max and Manuel arrived at a clearing on the hill. It was next to a cave, and from it they could see not only the ball field and the ancient statues, but even the Pacific Ocean off to the west, fifteen miles away.

“Yes, this is perfect,” Max confirmed, even as the vista filled his senses. “Is there any way we can make certain that no one will bother us when we meet in August
?
”

“Do not worry,” Manuel replied. “I will stand at the base of the trail and not let anyone pass. No one lives higher up on the volcano, so you will not have to worry about being bothered.”

Max offered to compensate Manuel for his time and effort, but the old man just smiled and shook his head.

“It is enough that I will be seeing my son Juan,” he said. “Besides, I feel in my heart that your ceremony is linked to my own purpose. We are both serving our destinies, and there is no need for money to compensate me for doing what I do with love and gratitude to my Creator.”

Max smiled back at the man who stood before him.

“I am truly grateful to you,” he said. “I'm not as certain as you that this ceremony will truly reveal our destinies, but it will certainly provide some kind of marker to my own odyssey and explain the synchronicities and coincidences that have directed my life.” At that, he embraced Manuel.

***

That night Max was too excited to sleep.

He couldn't bring himself to believe that the world would end on December 21, yet he couldn't deny that something important had to be tied to that date. Too many unexplained things had happened, and the closer he got to that date, the faster they came.

What if they continue to accelerate
?
he mused as he lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. What could still be in store
?

Synchronicity upon synchronicity. From his tumultuous meeting with Maria to the mystery of B.N. Mahars's final calculation, the many and seemingly impossible set of coincidences had led Max here to Izapa as inexorably as the tides move.

The beginning of the final count, leading up to the end of the Mayan calendar, had Max frantically calculating numbers in his head.

He had been exchanging e-mails with Sun, an expert in numerology, ever since the final of the twelve names had been revealed. Sun's initial calculations were astonishing. Not only were all of the first nine key numbers represented, but somehow harmony remained even with the absence of B.N.

There were only three duplicate numbers. One was shared by Chill Campister and B.N., both of whom were fours. Of course, with B.N. having died, that was no longer a duplication.

Both Maria and Sun were nines, but they were different nines, with Maria's name totaling 189, and Sun's amounting to the sacred Hindu number of 108. The only other duplication involved Dr. Alan and Melody, both of whom were twos. Melody was a triple two, and represented “two energy” more aligned and integrated with the group energy than Dr. Alan, who was the lone nonbeliever among the Twelve.

It was apparent that this grouping of numbers according to numerology had somehow been carefully designed, if not predestined.

And Max kept coming back to 21122012 and the inescapable progression from twenty-one to twenty, still connected with the mysterious number twelve. Somehow the Twelve, the Mayan calendar, and B.N.'s calculations were all related.

As sleep continued to elude him, Max knew that he would never rest until he explained the connections—energetic and numeric—between the people, the dates, and his mission to convene the Twelve in Izapa.

The Thirteenth Apostle

August 2012

M
AX WAS A NERVOUS WRECK.

He flew to Mexico City the evening of August 9 to greet C.D. and Shilpa and had then flown with them to Tapachula on a tiny plane that vibrated so loudly he and Shilpa could barely talk.

C.D. found the entire adventure pure fun. He was as excited as could be, jumping up and down and shouting loudly, pointing at every site from the window of the plane. Max hadn't been around such energy for a while and found it exhausting.

More than ever, he was grateful Shilpa had been able to supervise the journey.

When they arrived at the hotel in Tapachula, all the others were already settled in. Erol had decided that it made no sense to make such a long journey without including a day or two to visit other sacred sites in the land of ancient Mayan pyramids. So he had arrived on the seventh and was already completely at home with his new friends Juan and Manuel.

He had also bonded with Sun Pak, with whom he was discussing business deals. And even though he was twice her age, Erol could not take his eyes off Melody.

“She moves like water and shines like a gem,” he confided to Max.

Yoko and Maria had become traveling companions on the trip to San Lorenzo de Chiapas. Juan and Manuel had connected with Running Bear and Yutsky, sharing photos and stories of their families. Manuel took Running Bear to the meeting site to show him the cave and ask him if all was suitable.

Running Bear spoke enough Spanish to communicate, and Juan accompanied them to serve as interpreter, just in case. Running Bear approved of the site, purchased several cases of water, and asked Juan to order sandwiches that could be taken with them on the morning of the eleventh.

“We must meet at sunrise, but I have no idea how long we will be there or what is going to happen. It is best to be prepared,” he said.

More and more, Chill Campister was expressing his certainty that the meeting of the Twelve would result in the second coming of Christ and that was all he could talk about. With Juan serving as interpreter, Rinpoche enjoyed several long conversations with Manuel and Running Bear on the nature of their shamanistic practices and rituals.

Alan Taylor remained skeptical of the entire group, since he did not believe in God and admitted that he doubted very much that Running Bear knew what he was talking about. He confessed to Max that he had been reluctant to attend the event until he discovered that Izapa was close to some excellent surfing and that Erol would pay the travel expenses. So he had built in some time to hit the waves.

“Besides,” he said amiably, “I like you Max, and there's nothing wrong with an adventure. At the very least it's going to be interesting!”

***

The evening of the tenth, Max hosted a dinner at the hotel. He repeated the entire story of his near-death experience and recounted the new details he had unearthed in India and from B.N. Mahars's notebook. Shilpa was there, caring for her son, and she beamed as Max spoke of her father's brilliance.

It was also during this dinner that Max reconnected with Maria. It was just a glance, but for a moment Max was once again lost in the depths of her still-vibrant beauty. He was again captivated by the music of her voice and calm demeanor.

Maria returned Max's glance, but he fought his urge to make a personal connection as he continued to explain the circumstances that brought C.D. there to represent B.N., since Running Bear had been quite clear that all twelve must be present for Great Spirit to bless the ceremony. Though he was not one of the Twelve, Max would join in the ceremony as the caretaker of B.N.'s book.

“At least in the beginning you should join us,” Running Bear confirmed. “It seems clear that B.N. Mahars feels that C.D. will represent him but that the book is also important, and when not in India, it seems to belong to you.

“If the energy does not flow, you can always leave,” the shaman concluded.

No others could attend, for according to Running Bear, it was the energy of the Twelve—and only the Twelve—that was necessary for whatever was to occur.

Max realized with some trepidation that he would have to attend to C.D.

***

The group was at the base of Volcán Tajumulco by 4:55 the next morning. Manuel met them there with a flashlight in his hand and with sure steps guided them to the hillside clearing next to the cave.

Then he departed to stand guard at the base of the trail, as he had promised.

Running Bear had also been there early and called everyone together around a fire that he had prepared.

“We must sit in a circle around the fire. It is thirty minutes until sunrise, and during this time I would like each of you to pray silently in your own way.

“If your custom is to chant, you may do so, but as quietly as you can. It is my belief that each of us represents one of the twelve tribes of color and that we are here to receive instruction. I do not know in what form that instruction will come, and I do not know how long we are meant to be here.

“We may not be here more than an hour or two, but we may be here all day. Regardless of the time it will take, having come so far it would be foolish for us to leave before our prayers are answered.”

He paused and looked from one member of the group to the next, until he had gone full circle. “We are all from different traditions, come from different lands, and hold different beliefs, but in the short time I have spent with each of you, it is clear to me that all of you are souls of destiny. We are living in a time of great promise and great sorrow, so I suggest that we pray—not for ourselves or our own individual peoples—but for all people and all creatures.

“I do not believe that we have been chosen randomly, but that we are here for a specific purpose . . . so let us pray to our Creator.”

Max had never prayed in his life, and he knew Dr. Alan wasn't big on praying either, nor was Erol, so the three of them just stared into space.

C.D. had no idea what Running Bear had been talking about, but he took his cue from Max to be quiet and found some twigs he could bend and use to make marks in the dirt. So the young man spent his time quietly drawing, then erasing, and then drawing stick figures.

***

After what seemed like a very long time, the sun came up and shone in their faces.

Max looked around, and still nothing out of the ordinary was happening. Rinpoche was chanting softly, and so was Running Bear. Sun Pak had a bored look on his face, but Maria and Yoko seemed lost in some meditative trance. Juan, Melody, Yutsky, and Chill seemed perfectly content to sit and do nothing, and he envied them their calm.

After what seemed like at least an hour, Running Bear stood up and asked if anyone was hungry or thirsty. Since no one had taken time for breakfast, everyone was happy for the sandwiches and corn-wrapped tamales that came from Running Bear's knapsack.

They remained in the circle while they ate.

Another hour went by, and still there was no sign of any kind. Dr. Alan looked longingly at the Pacific, Max noticed, no doubt thinking of the good surf he was missing. After a while, he turned to Running Bear and spoke.

“How long do we need to sit here
?
” he asked. “I don't get a sense that anything is going to happen.”

The Native American's face remained impassive as he replied.

“I do not know how long, but it is evident that we need to give it more time. You may not be aware of any change, but I can assure you that the energies of this place are shifting. The twelve of us must simply sit, so that our own energies arrive at balance.

“We have all come from a single source and have been reunited to bring back those forces that created us. Please be patient—we have only been here two hours. On a vision quest, it is sometimes necessary to spend an entire day.”

When he saw the looks of alarm that appeared on some of the faces, he added, “Perhaps we will not need an entire day, but we may need several more hours.”

Having said that, he returned to his meditation.

C.D. had been amazingly quiet, but now he was tickling Max and coming up with games that required Max's full attention. Far from being an irritation, this was a relief for Max, as he had little capacity to sit and do nothing. So C.D. afforded him a pleasant distraction.

After a while, Erol, and then Sun Pak, and then Dr. Alan, and then others wandered off to stretch their legs and look around. No one was ever gone for more than twenty minutes, however, and there were never less than nine of the Twelve present at any given time.

Max hoped that would be enough.

***

Just before noon, he noticed a strange wind blowing.

First he saw the branches of the trees moving, and then suddenly there was a mini-whirlwind spinning above the embers of the fire, which glowed and then were extinguished.

Running Bear was transfixed.

Then he looked at Rinpoche, and then Juan, and then Erol. Sun Pak, Maria, Yoko, Melody, Yutsky, and Chill, and finally Alan and C.D.—each and every one of them was transfixed.

They were silent, even C.D., and their eyes were glued to where the fire had been. A calm entered the clearing and time seemed to stand still.

Max blinked but he saw nothing. The wind had died down again, and the silence was complete. He thought he should feel anxious excitement at whatever was transpiring—this culmination of everything he had done—yet the calm gripped him, as well, endowing him with a sense of curiosity and wonder.

Then he glanced again at the Twelve and saw tears streaming down their cheeks. The silence was broken, and soft sobs were coming from each of them.

They seemed to be tears of joy.

Finally, after what seemed like hours, Max felt a presence enter the clearing.

Could this be the one we've been waiting for
?
he thought. Is this it, at last
?

“Yes, I am the one,” said a deep, calm voice that echoed around them. “The legends refer to me as the Thirteenth Apostle, though you will see me as your God—as Jesus, as Mohammad, Krishna, and Padmasambhava, even as the Buddha. I may appear as pure energy or perhaps even as an extraterrestrial.

“Each of you sees me as the fulfillment of your destiny . . . as the savior or the messiah, and I am indeed the fulfillment of all of these beliefs.

“The twelve of you, by your presence, have created the vortex of energy that allows me to enter your world, and I have come to tell each of you what you must do to save that world. You are part of an ancient pact made tens of thousands of years ago to ensure the survival of this planet and of the human species.

“Each of you will walk to the cave that sits next to this clearing and learn what you must do to fulfill the ancient prophecies and ensure that these end-times do not end your world.”

Then only silence.

***

The first to enter the cave was Erol. Minutes later he came out with a transcendent—yet somewhat grave—expression of determination on his face.

Next was Yutsky, and then Sun Pak, followed by Dr. Alan, Chill, Maria, Yoko, and Melody, each only for a few minutes.

Rinpoche remained in the cave for a full hour, and it was dusk when Juan emerged and dark when Running Bear returned.

Only C.D. was left.

Max escorted him to the entrance and meant to stay outside, but the young Indian pulled him in.

He entered and felt a glow and sense of peace. C.D. started laughing as the voice spoke to him and Max.

“You are a child of love,” it said. “You have much to teach this world. Your grandfather calculated with his numbers that the end of the universe would occur one hundred and thirty days from today. This in fact is true, but what your grandfather could not know is that the end of one universe may mark the beginning of another.

“Human beings have squandered their precious gifts, and the world will indeed end if they do not change their ways and transform their consciousness.

“You see me as Krishna and do not understand the import of my words. But that is why you have a guide. And even if you did not, I can reach your heart. There is an entity that has incarnated on your planet during these times—an entity that is greater even than me, an entity that in fact created me and all that exists. This being is the One.

“This One has made the supreme sacrifice of incarnating as a human being, and in so doing has risked all by forgetting all and by becoming truly and completely human.

“Your task—as is that of the other eleven—is to go back to your home and search out this One. Retrace your steps to the most sacred places you have traveled or lived in this human life. Max will go with you—although he is not one of the Twelve, it is through his connection that you have come together with the rest. It will be easier to convince the One of the importance of your mission if Max is with you. So search diligently.

“Then you must reunite again, just before sundown on December 21. The Twelve and the One must be present, and that is all that will be necessary to ensure that mankind does, in fact, fulfill the destiny promised of heaven on Earth. Together, we will greet the One and learn then what we must do to ensure the promised age.