Bed & Breakfast Bedlam - Abby L Vandiver Page 0,1

from Central America. Many archaeologists believed that they died en masse. But being more like my mother than I ever cared to admit, I had a different theory. While excavating in Belize, my mother and I discovered clues that lead us to believe that the Maya may have migrated to, and lived in, Georgia. At Track Rock Gap to be exact.

When we checked it out, word had gotten around the area that Maya ruins laid up the side of a steep mountainside inside Track Rock Gap that was comprised of more than a hundred and fifty stone masonry walls with Mayan-like inscriptions, evidence of agricultural terraces, and remains of what could have been a sophisticated irrigation system. Just like what was found in the jungles of Mesoamerica at every Maya site excavated.

But if the Maya had settled in America, the U.S. government didn’t want anyone to know about it.

When my mother and I first arrived we found Track Rock Gap locked tight with big “KEEP OUT” signs plastered everywhere, so we left. My mother’s scientific need to know not even stirred, mine, however, was screaming for answers. I just had to know why anyone would keep possible proof of a Maya civilization in Georgia secret. So I decided to come and check it out – trespassing laws be damned.

Now I was being chased by two federal officers for my callous disregard of my government’s edicts. And to top it off I still didn’t have any more information about the Maya-American occupation I came to out. But, at this moment, I realized that I no longer had any interest in where they lived, whatsoever.

I’m sure that had to do with the fact that now my curiosity was going to get me thrown in jail. Or worse, a federal prison.

My recon skills were nowhere as good as my excavation ones. I hadn’t been able to get a map of the area, and I came armed only with a flashlight and my iPhone 6. Neither one turned out to be any help. Before I was more than a hundred yards into the site, I had knocked over the shed. A metal one that creaked and clanked as it fell with a loud thud spitting dirt everywhere. It scared me and I took off running. As it turned out, I ran in the same direction the guards were emerging from. I did a one eighty and slid the last few feet behind the shed where I now stood. Thank God they hadn’t seen me.

I peered around the shed. The two guards were still examining the metal pile of heap. They were kicking it with the toe of their shoes.

Maybe they’d think some vermin knocked it over. Or, maybe they’d think it fell by itself. It hadn’t been very sturdy. I had barely touched it.

“Is anyone there? Show yourself,” one of the guards yelled.

Crap.

I turned back around and closed my eyes. I knew I couldn’t just stand still and let them catch me, I had to make a run for it.

Plus, I had to pee.

That was going to make running anywhere pretty difficult.

I opened my eyes and surveyed what was close and spotted a trailer about thirty yards out. From the light that emanated from the trailer, I could see that just beyond it was a tangle of bushes and trees. A place I could escape in darkness and the noises of the night, and through them, I hoped, was the road out.

But I needed to distract Uncle Sam’s watchmen.

I closed my eyes and asked for strength. Even though my mother was a lot closer to God then I was, and I was one to always go against her, I was hoping He’d give me some slack.

Pulling in a quick breath and holding it, I threw a rock as hard as I could in the opposite direction of where I needed to go.

“Did you hear that?” one guard said to the other.

“What?” the other said.

“Thought I heard something over there.” He pointed in the direction where I threw the rock. “We’d better check it out.” They took off in that direction and I took off running in the other.

I landed behind the small camper-like building. There was a dim light on inside. I peeped through a window and discovered that the place must be the guard station. There were two desks, some chairs, a microwave and a coffeemaker. The light I’d seen was from a computer screen.

Yep. This was where they hung out when vandals,