Quietly, so as not to disturb Maggie, I slid out of bed. Retrieving the bag from the closet, I crept into the bathroom, shut the door and flipped on the light switch.

I placed the bag on the vanity table, opened it and carefully lifted out the jar. It had a tight lid jammed in the mouth, but I was finally able to pry it out without causing any damage. I peered inside but couldn't see much. Reaching in with one hand while steadying the jar with the other, I hoped there were no "critters" inside.

My hand closed on something that felt like a tightly rolled piece of paper. When I was able to remove it, I discovered it was some kind of parchment, rolled up tightly and tied with a strip of cloth that was rapidly decaying.

Thinking of the Dead Sea Scrolls, I nervously slid the cloth band off, but it disintegrated at my touch. I began to unroll the paper. It was a scroll of some kind, with small, neat writing on it that looked like it could be Hebrew--definitely a language unfamiliar to me. Oh, how I wished I were able to read it.

I plopped into the chair in front of the vanity table and stared at it for a long time. I heard that familiar voice again. "Take photographs of the writings and send them to Sam."

I turned off the bathroom light, tiptoed across the carpeted floor, walked to the dresser and removed the digital camera from the drawer.

Back in the bathroom, I locked the door and turned on the light again. There was a tray with two wrapped water glasses and an empty ice bucket on the vanity. I placed the tray on the floor, grabbing the two water glasses.

I unrolled the scroll a few inches, using my right elbow to keep it open. Then I placed the two glasses lightly on the top and bottom left-hand corner of the fragile paper. Flipping open the medicine cabinet, I sought something to hold down the other side of the scroll. I spotted a bottle of aspirin, and it served the purpose nicely.

Digital camera in hand, I snapped pictures, making sure there was plenty of overlapping so not a word would be missed. Once the first section was completely photographed, I re-rolled the left side and unrolled the right side some more. I continued rolling and unrolling, shooting pictures as quickly as I could. Whatever this document was, I kept thinking it must be very important.

It took me over a half an hour to get the whole scroll photographed, rolled up properly and back into the jar. I scooped the remains of the cloth strip and tossed them inside, then put the jar back in the bag and zipped it up.

When I returned to the bedroom, I was relieved to see Maggie in a sound sleep, snoring lightly. I tiptoed to the closet. Setting the bag down, I slipped into a pullover shirt and slacks, then slid into my loafers.

With the duffel bag and camera in one hand, I grabbed the room key and car keys from the top of the dresser, then stopped to get my laptop from the desk. My hands were full and I struggled to open the door, then shut it quietly as I headed for the elevator.

The lobby was deserted. It was well past midnight. First, I went to the garage, opened the trunk and placed the duffel bag with its intriguing contents inside.

Once back in the lobby, I walked to the front desk. A sleepy-looking clerk smiled wanly as I approached. "May I help you, sir?"

I explained I needed to use my laptop to get on the Internet but my family was sleeping, and I didn't want to disturb them. "Is it possible to get a connection here in the lobby?" I inquired.

He walked around the counter and helped me set up a connection at a desk along a back wall. Once seated, I dashed a quick e-mail to Sam, also attached the photos of the scroll. I had no idea what time it was back home, but I sure hoped Sam would get my e-mail soon.

With the mission accomplished, as far as I knew anyway, I thanked the desk clerk for his help and took the elevator back upstairs. As soon as I got to the room, I removed my clothes and collapsed into bed. Whew! . . . what a day this had been.

A little after three, I was jarred awake by the jangling ring of the phone on my bedside table. Startled, I grabbed the receiver on the first ring. Maggie stirred but I didn't think she had wakened.

"Joe!" came the excited voice, "Do you know what you've got there?!"

It was Sam, of course.

I discovered the cord to the phone would stretch into the bathroom, so I took it in there and shut the door.

"No, Sam, I don't," I replied. "But I figured you might with all those fancy languages you know. So what is it?"

Sam blurted, "Where did you get this?"

"In Nazareth. Why? What is it, Sam?"

"You're not going to believe this, Joe. I don't even know if I believe it. Do you suppose it's a hoax?"

"Sam!" I almost screamed at him. "Please . . . tell me what you can."

"Okay, Joe. Of course I'd really have to see the original, but it looks to me like some kind of a journal. It's written by a mother . . . about her son. I've only translated part of it . . ." He further explained the technical difficulties of translating from the photos.

I couldn't stand it any longer and cut him off.

"Please, Sam . . . what are you trying to say?"

"Look, Joe, we've been friends a very long time. I don't want you to think I've suddenly gone bonkers, but all I can tell you is that it appears to be written by Mary, the mother of Jesus."

I was speechless. I had suspected that all along, but still . . .

Finally, Sam said, "Joe? Are you still there?"

"Yes, I'm sorry, Sam."

"You must really think I'm nuts now," said Sam.

"Absolutely not," I reassured him. "In fact, if I told you everything that's happened to me in the last couple months, you'd think this was mild by comparison."

"Really? Wow, so tell me what's been going on, Joe?"

"Sorry, Sam, I can't talk right now, but listen--can you translate that whole thing and email it to me? I know it's a lot to ask, but . . ."

"Hah!" Sam interrupted. "Wild horses couldn't stop me. I'm starting as soon as we hang up and I'm not stopping until it's finished. And when it is, I'll e-mail it right back to you."

"Thanks, buddy. I can't tell you how grateful I am."

"Hey, Joe, there's one thing you need to think about. I don't know exactly how these things work, but . . . does that scroll look really old?"

"It sure does," I replied. "It was tied with a strip of cloth that disintegrated when I touched it."

"Ah ha! Well, if that's the case, we need to do some research about Israeli laws regarding ancient artifacts. Perhaps the Department of Antiquities would be a good place to start. I don't know, but tell you what . . . when I finish the translation and send it off to you, I'll do a search on the 'Net and see what I can find. I wouldn't want to see you get arrested for absconding with some archaeological treasure."

"Jeepers, I never gave that a thought. Thanks, Sam. You're a gem. I'll wait for your e-mail."








Continue to Chapter 29


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