Free Deity by Theresa Danley Page B

of her companion’s irritability to simmer down. It
didn’t come immediately, but rather left them in awkward silence until they
reached the walls of the ball court.
    “The
people of Chichen Itza
were brilliant astronomers,” Chac finally said, his tone taking on an
appreciation for the subject. “I believe it was here that they observed the movement
of the stars.”
    “Movement
of the stars,” Lori murmured thoughtfully. “As in precession?”
    “Exactly. The
Maya recognized a shift in the stars’ positions due to the slow wobble in the
Earth’s orbit. When they realized that the Milky Way was also shifting, they
calculated that the bulge was slipping toward the point along the horizon where
the December solstice sun was rising. Essentially, the Mayan world was centered
upon the day when the sun would travel through the hollow bulge in the Milky
Way. Their calendar was geared toward the sun’s passage to the underworld.”
    “You’re
referring to the five thousand year Long Count Calendar, right?”
    “Five
thousand one hundred twenty-five years and some change to be more exact. Each
cycle of the Long Count represents a world age. And how many world ages are
there in Mesoamerican thought?”
    “Well,”
Lori said thoughtfully. “According to the Toltecs there are five world ages.”
    Chac
nodded. “And according to the Long Count Calendar, this year’s December
solstice marks the end of the fifth age. Five Long Count cycles add up to twenty-five
thousand six hundred twenty-six years, the same number of years astronomers
estimate it takes for the earth to complete one cycle of precession.”
    “So
it takes twenty-five thousand six hundred twenty-six years for the earth’s
wobble to complete one full rotation?” Lori asked.
    Chac
nodded. “Now you see what’s so special about the 2012 end date.”
    “I
thought you weren’t buying into all the doomsday hype,” Lori challenged.
    Chac
suddenly spun on her, his eyes frightfully dark. “I don’t care what’s popular
or what sells books or movies. I’m more interested in what 2012 meant to the
ancient people who knew they’d never see the day we live in now.”
    Lori
was taken aback. “Oh.”
    Again,
she quietly fell in line beside Chac as he led the way into the grassy,
I-shaped enclosure of the ball court. The walls loomed on either side with a
temple structure at each end. One of the first things Lori noticed about the
ball court was its amazing acoustics. She estimated the court to be over five
hundred feet long, perhaps just over two hundred feet wide. The structure lay
open to the sky and yet, she could hear conversations from individuals at the
far end of the ball court as clearly as though they were standing next to her.
    As
Chac led her to the highest wall mid-court, Lori considered the teams that had
battled over the ground she now leisurely strolled. This was the place that
determined the fates of men. This was the place where athletic warriors won
their honors on stone pillars, or were decapitated and beaded along gruesome
skull racks.
    Chac’s
pace slowed and his voice took on that appreciative tone again. “While the
priests were counting down the days to the sun’s passage into the underworld,
the ball game held symbolic parallels. To begin with, this ball court aligns
perfectly with the Milky Way.”
    “That’s
understandable,” Lori agreed, not caring to upset him again.
    “Yes, but there’s much more to the game itself. See that ring up
there?”
    Chac
pointed to a large stone hoop protruding high atop the nearest wall like a
basketball hoop turned ninety degrees. The stone rim was thick and, as far as
Lori could tell, displayed a writhing serpent carved in relief.
    “That
ring represented the hollow bulge in the Milky Way. The game ball was the sun.”
    “And
the object of the game was to pass the sun through the portal to the
underworld,” Lori guessed out loud. She studied the ring hanging twenty feet
above her. “That