THE QUEEN’S ESCAPE
MEMOIRS OF A LIGHTWORKER
by
PAULA LIEBE
BOOK 1 OF THE QUEEN’S TRILOGY
Copyright © 2013 Paula Liebe
All rights reserved.
IMPORTANT NOTICE FROM THE AUTHOR:
This is not a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are neither the product of the
author’s imagination nor used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events
or locales is entirely non coincidental.
Other titles of The Queen's Trilogy by Paula Liebe:
Book 1 The Queen's Escape
Book 2 The Queen's Boudoir
Book 3 The Queen's Destiny
TABLE OF CONTENTS
PART 1
1st PROLOGUE
1. LOOKING FOR SUN KISSED BUTTOCKS
2. GOD’S GIFT ON EARTH
3. ANOTHER PIECE OF THE PUZZLE
4. A CHILLY NIGHT
5. THE WIZARD
6. YOU TAKE MY BREATH AWAY
7. WHEN THE RAIN STARTS TO POUR
8. MEET THE FAMILY
9. BRINGER OF MESSAGES AND DREAMS
10. A COMPATABLE BUTTERFLY
11. A SEXY ANGEL
12. MY AZTEC CUTIE
13. KEEP YOUR CLOTHES ON
14. A NAKED JUNGLE GIRL
15. WHEN WILL I SEE YOU AGAIN
16. A MAGICAL NEW YEAR
17. THE FIRST TIME
18. HORNY AS HELL
19. THREESOME
20. TELL IT ALL
21. HELENA
22. IT IS TIME
23. THE LITTLE BITCH
24. TRIP TO THE UNKNOWN
25. MORE BUTTERFLIES
26. PLAY THAT FUNKY MUSIC
27. I WILL BE BACK
PART 2
2nd PROLOGUE
1. PAIN AND PLEASURE
2. COMPASSIONATE TIMES
3. NOT FUCKING AT THIS MOMENT
4. I CRIED A RIVER OVER YOU
5. MARY MAGDALENE
6. THE MODERN MAGDALENE
7. MAGDALENE AND THE EGG
8. MAGDALENE IGNORANCE
9. THE ONE
10. INVASION OF ENTITIES
11. BEING IN LOVE WITH LIFE
12. SUCK IT OUT OF YOU
13. THE BLACK MESSENGER
14. VOICES FROM THE PAST
15. JUST A GIGOLO
16. GOING TO NEW YORK
17. NOT THE ONE
18. IN LOVE WITH HIS MIND
19. SOMETING TO RELATE TO
20. BREAKING RULES
21. OLD FART
22. TRUE LOVE
23. THE POWER OF THOUGHT
24. TO HEAL OR NOT TO HEAL
25. THE POWER OF PRAYER
26. BLOWING BUBBLES
27. A TOUCH OF NARCISSUS
PART 1
1st PROLOGUE
“Where is the fucking dope?” Michael screamed at me while pushing the Uzi further down my
throat.
Cold and malignant was the look in his icy blue eyes, but the only thing I could think of was the
hard steel damaging my teeth. I had absolutely no idea where he had been hiding his stuff this time
around and after a couple of futile attempts to extract some meaningful sentences from me, he soon
realized that I was further from knowing the secret storage of his shit than anybody else in his dealer
circle.
“Stupid bitch!” he barked.
With a loud bang the door closed behind him.
The sudden silence left me defeated on the old stained mattress. I felt so empty and so alone. Half
intoxicated I dragged my skinny and neglected body towards the dirty sink. Through the broken
mirror I stared into my hollow eyes for a long time. Then my attention strayed towards my arms. They
were covered with needle marks. My God, what had led me towards this disgusting and destructive
existence? Where had it all started?
My thoughts traveled back to the beginning of my American adventure, into which I had thrown
myself two years before. America, the land of infinite possibilities and a country far, far away from
the sickening influence my father still had on me. A few weeks before I had made the great crossing I
had planned to celebrate my 22nd birthday with friends at my goodbye party. But something would
prevent that celebration.
To earn the final part of the money I needed to finance my trip to the United States, I worked
evenings in my father’s restaurant ‘Charcoal’.
As always I had prepared the ‘mis en place’. Empty bottles were replaced with new ones, the
cutlery was polished and the many candles were lit on time. In short, everything was perfectly
prepared to receive our guests in a most hospitable way.
Through the flickering of the many flames I saw the stocky silhouette of my father striding down
the restaurant. Having a well-developed sense for his unpredictable mood swings and observing how
he neared me, I was forewarned of impending problems.
With critical scrutiny he had surveyed the interior of his restaurant and quickly had noticed a few
details he did not approve off. Immediately he called me over and angrily started summing up all the
little things that, in his eyes, showed an absolute lack of interest for ‘his’ business.
Powerless, I allowed his hurtful criticisms to engulf me. Slowly but steadily all the pent up anger
of many years of injustice started to spread through me until it exploded outward in a fiery stream of
words.
“It’s never good! Never! It’s never good enough!” I screamed through my stifled tears. “No matter
how much I try, no matter the attention I place in carefully preparing everything, you only notice the
things that slipped my attention. You only criticize! Why can’t you just for once give me a
compliment?”
“Because it should be the most natural thing in the world that you pay the utmost attention in the
restaurant of your father!” he said with his innate authority. “And especially with my own children,
such a thing is expected without me having to point it out to you.”
“But you didn’t even notice all the tables I set with so much care!” I cried out theatrically.
His ominous face revealed a slightly amused look when he noticed my so-called hysterical
behavior, a typical female ailment in his eyes.
“Yes, as always, just ridicule me! Asshole!”
The next moment, a full fist hit my face with an unexpected force. Instead of cringing in pain and
fear, his appalling violence surfaced fury in me.
“You have to beat me up again?” I roared, “Here! Hit me!”
My powerful reaction touched an emotional volcano of impotence and rage that he could not
control. The next blow was even more forceful and my left eye swelled up until I could hardly see. I
didn’t feel any pain, only hate and rage.
“And another one!” I screamed hysterically. Through his murderous eyes I saw another blow hit
my face.
“And another one!”
I don’t know what would have happened if the cooks had not intervened. They pulled him away
from me and I ran out of the restaurant sobbing uncontrollably. Emotional panic overtook me and I
dove into one of the restaurants a few doors further down the street. I was desperately gasping for air
when a terrified young waiter brought me a glass of water. I couldn’t utter a single word. All I could
do was try to get my breath under control and calm the emotional chaos in my head.
The guests at the restaurant were at a total loss with this pitiful scene, uncomfortably glancing my
way. I wanted to get out of this place, away from yet more judgment. Hesitantly I asked if they could
please call me a taxi.
“Oh no! He did it again?” my brother asked incredulously as he opened the front door, a worried
look on his face. Tears streamed silently down my swollen cheeks. What could I say? Was there
anything to say? Drenched in helplessness, I felt the biggest injustice had been hurled into my face.
My respect was trampled and beaten into pieces. I felt humiliated to the bone.
With a cold washcloth I tried to bring some relief to the throbbing bruises on my battered face. By
now my right cheek was the size of half a tennis ball and covered with a big blue purple contusion.
The eye socket around my left eye was swollen. The cold cloth did little to relieve the pain.
Slowly the numbness of the humiliation that had been pounded into me started to melt. Aided by a
cup of hot tea, little by little, my sense of worth crept back and started to warm my body and
emotions. At the same time the most hateful and revengeful thoughts started to seep into my brain.
Always there was one single question that prevailed over the mash of realizations. ‘Why? Why daddy,
why?’
For a long time my brother and I talked about our father and the inescapable influence he had on
our lives. During our conversation many painful memories surfaced that, through the years, had
descended into the caverns of forgiveness and forgetfulness. Those sad recollections were pulled from
under a blanket of understanding and placed into raw reality. No matter how sad and abusive his own
childhood had been, no matter how easily his temper was ignited, no matter with what kind of
idealistic life’s vision he wanted to raise his children, nothing could justify his violent and
manipulative actions. That was a fact.
Never, never again did I want to feel his stocky frame pacing towards me, to see his bloodthirsty
eyes piercing through me, to feel lukewarm piss running down my legs or to feel his nauseating
violence. No more could I tolerate his constant criticism of everything and everybody. No more could
I endure the ever-present threat of his unexpected outbursts. No more would my behavior and my
emotions be affected by his unpredictable moods. If I couldn’t make him disappear from my life then
I would simply disappear from his.
1. LOOKING FOR SUN KISSED BUTTOCKS
I had made it! After a messy delay in Washington and a sleepless night in Miami, I finally had
arrived at the airport of Cancun, my final destination.
Harry Lackey, who had agreed to pick me up from the airport, wasn’t anywhere in sight.
Disappointed and slightly irritated from a wakeful night I bought a phone card, called the hotel and
was told he was on his way. Within twenty minutes an old beat-up Chevy rolled into the parking lot.
“I’m so sorry I’m late,” Harry apologized profusely.
“Don’t worry about it,” I responded with a smile. “It’s good practice to get used to the Mexican
rhythm. It’s just that I didn’t sleep at all last night and I’m a little tired.”
Harry introduced me to his beautiful girlfriend Pilar. One kiss on the cheek followed by a hug
appeared to be the standard way of greeting in this part of Mexico.
Within forty minutes we reached Playa del Carmen and Harry parked the car in front of hotel ‘Da
Gabi’, which looked less exotic than the pictures had led me to believe. Nevertheless, the small room
they had offered me looked very Caribbean with bright colors and artistic murals. After I had placed
my three suitcases in my room - the only belongings I had left in the world except for some books and
photos I had stored in my mother’s cellar - I went to have breakfast with Harry and Pilar at ‘Pokara’, a
funky looking restaurant across the street. There I was, sitting under waving palm trees, enjoying
Mexican eggs and a soft Caribbean breeze.
“I must admit it’s really strange to suddenly just ‘be’ here,” I started. “I mean, for months and
months I’ve worked so incredibly hard and totally lived towards this moment and then suddenly I’m
here, living in Mexico!”
“Yes, I understand,” said Harry, “I’ve been to Holland visiting my dad and it must be such a
difference.”
“And what are you going to do?” Pilar asked.
“To start with… I don’t know. I think I will do what I always do when I’m in a new city.”
“And what is that?”
“Just walk and wander around, taste the atmosphere, feel the personality of the town and let the
energy of the place work its way through me.”
“You’ve traveled to many countries?” Harry asked.
“I still have a long list of countries I want to visit. Besides Europe and the United States I’ve been
to Brazil and Thailand and this year I traveled to India to study yoga.”
“You like yoga?” Pilar asked enthusiastically.
“I certainly do!” I responded with the same excitement.
“Then I’ll bring you to one of our yoga classes.”
“Thank you. That would be wonderful!”
“You’re welcome,” she responded with the sweetest smile.
“You know Harry, I’m so grateful to your father for offering me a room in his hotel to get myself
started here.”
“He has his pleasant moments,” Harry responded tactfully.
I didn’t know John Lacky very well. In Holland my best friend Mary had introduced us, as she was
tutoring John’s younger son. John was so impressed with my audacious decision to move to Playa del
Carmen that he had offered to help me out with a free room in his hotel.
“He said that I reminded him of your mother.”
“I agree, you do have some similarities with my mother.”
“Listen, I’m going to take a shower and change. I’ll see you guys later okay?”
“Yeah, sure,” Harry answered.
“Yes, we’ll see each other later,” Pilar smiled.
Just before I was ready to leave my room to start exploring Playa’s streets, I heard a knock on the
door. Apparently Mary had already introduced me successfully to a few Playa people, because a wide
smiling Lavonna stepped into my room when I opened the door. Lavonna took care of John’s daughter
Tina, who was the youngest of his three children and needed extra care because she had suffered slight
brain damage during pregnancy. She gave me a warm hug and started chatting away until her cell
phone interrupted our conversation.
“It’s John,” she whispered while she covered the receiver with her hand.
I nodded.
“He’s going,” she said mischievously.
“He’s going where?” I asked.
“He’s going crazy!” she laughed.
This was just a little example of the complicated relationship John and Lavonna found themselves
in.
“Why don’t you come and eat with us at the restaurant tonight. You’re part of the family now.
We’ll be there around seven o’clock. I want to introduce you to many interesting people. Tom and
Joanne for example, are building a healing retreat in the jungle. Don’t worry, I’ll introduce you to
everybody.”
“Thank you Lavonna, that’s so nice of you.”
“So I’ll see you tonight at seven?” she asked with her happy blue eyes.
“Yes of course, that would be lovely.”
After another warm hug her blond curls disappeared through the door. This was a very different
Lavonna than the one John had depicted. He had compared her to a territorial street cat. It would be
interesting to hear how people described John.
Playa del Carmen had grown from a sleepy Caribbean fishing village into a thriving tourist town in
little over ten years. According to some newspaper articles this was the fastest growing city in the
world. After a little stroll down the famous pedestrian Fifth Avenue, lined with a large variety of
boutiques, bars and restaurants, I decided it was time to explore the beach. In my travel guide I had
read that gay people visited the northern part of the beach, which was far from the tourist crowd, and
nude sunbathing was accepted. I had done nothing else in Ibiza, so this was where I was heading.
I walked past the beach clubs ‘Playa Tukan’ and ‘Mamita’s’, hotel ‘Las Palapas’ and a few
scattered cabañas before a long stretch of virgin tropical beach appeared before my eyes. The many
different shades of the turquoise colored sea were breathtaking and soothing to a restless soul. I
walked quite a while and still no naked gays in sight. I was determined not to sit down until I had
spotted some brown sun kissed buttocks.
Finally I eyed the long-awaited bottom. He was medium built and certainly didn’t look like an
oversized Mexican with his grayish curls and neatly trimmed beard. At a proper distance I placed my
‘pareo’ on the white sand and started to read the book Mary had given me upon my departure, a
channeled message from The Pleiadians. I was convinced that the middle-aged gentleman would
understand why I had chosen a spot in his vicinity, lying here buck-naked all by myself.
After a while a short stocky Mexican appeared out of nowhere and carefully placed himself
between the bespectacled man and me. A bold move, I thought.
“A praia e muito grande!” I yelled at him in Portuguese – as my Spanish was still non-existent –
and pointed to the miles of deserted sand. With an embarrassed look he got up and left. I couldn’t
blame the guy for trying.
“Well done!” said the man and from his intonation I thought I detected a New York accent. We
both continued to read and after an hour or so the American started to prepare himself for the long
walk home. I had no intention in staying on this deserted beach all by myself, so I quickly got dressed
and walked towards this tall man.
“Do you mind my company while we walk back?” I asked carefully.
“Not at all!” he responded enthusiastically and from the look in his eyes I immediately understood
he was interested in anything but men. Through the surf we walked back, all the while talking. He had
striking blue eyes, a well-shaped mouth and a prominent nose, which gave him a Jewish look. He was
actually not an unattractive man, but absolutely not my type and after the vow I had made in Holland,
days before my departure, my sexual interest for men had practically disappeared.
Benjamin was his name, a lawyer working in Los Angeles, but a true New Yor ker at heart. He was
on holiday for a month to recuperate from a stressful existence in the lawyer’s world as well as a
painful break-up with his girlfriend.
“So, what brought you to Playa del Carmen?” he asked inquisitively.
“That’s a long story,” I replied, “But what it comes down to is that the Universe guided me to this
particular place to start a spiritual center. I have no idea what it will look like, but I know deep down
inside I’m going to find that place here and that I will meet the right people.”
“Listening to your passion and determination and seeing that powerful energy you have around
you, I have no doubt in my mind that you can accomplish anything you set your mind to.”
We had arrived at the first streets of downtown Playa del Carmen and with an almost boyish pride
he asked me if I wanted to see his house. I still had some time before dinner and he seemed such a
nice, charming and entertaining man that I could not refuse his invitation. We talked about books,
religion and his ‘cases’ that were dominated by discrimination, sexual intimidation and human rights
issues. As I pictured myself as the revolutionary fighter for justice, I felt a kinship to him.
Destiny ruled one of his cases to stardom and the result was the house he had constructed four
years ago. The three floor L-shaped house had beautiful sun terraces, a large round Jacuzzi and a
breathtaking view of the rising sun. Thanks to the technical and artistic qualities of Arturo, the
constructor of Ben’s dream villa and with whom he seemed to have a love-hate relationship, his house
was beautiful and stylish.
“Paula, I know a few nice people I would like to introduce you to. They would be interesting
connections for your areas of interest. Actually, only the other day I was thinking that I would like a
little more spirituality in my life.”
“And then you met me!”
“Yes,” he paused. “Exactly.”
I noticed this meaningful look in his eyes.
“Hey Benjamin, I need to go.”
“Really?” he said with a slight disappointment in his voice.
“Yes, I’ve been invited for dinner.”
“Not bad for a new girl in town.”
An enormous grin appeared on my face. Indeed, not bad for a first day.
“You can come by anytime. Anytime. Just call my name out loud, Will you do that?”
“Sure. I’ll do that.”
Like a true gentleman he walked me to the front door and we exchanged a short hug.
“Bye Benjamin.”
“Bye Paula.”
I felt his eyes following me to the end of the street.
2. GOD’S GIFT ON EARTH
I was just on my way back from an early morning run along the beach when I heard someone
calling my name. It took a while before I realized that the sound came from above. Ben was hanging
over the edge of his terrace.
I smiled. “Oh Ben! I didn’t realize it was you. How are you?”
“Not too bad on this beautiful sunny morning. And you, you look all nice and sweaty,” he
continued in a flirtatious way.
“Yes, well I like to stay in shape.”
“Could I invite you then for some kayaking along the shore?”
“I would love that!”
“My buddy Doug and I often go kayaking in the morning and I’m sure he won’t mind your
company. I’ll be down in a minute.”
During another lively conversation we walked to Playacar, a part of Playa del Carmen designated
for the well-to-do people who could afford luxurious villas with private pools. This gated community
had a little bit too much of a Florida look for my personal taste.
Doug and I paddled alongside with strong strokes, but Ben still needed to get the hang of it and
looked a little silly splashing around all by himself. When we returned to the villa the house was alive
with people and sounds. I was introduced to Doug’s wife Kim, who was seven months pregnant and to
his mother in law Nancy, who had a hilariously strong Texan accent.
“We’re organizing a dinner tonight. Would you like to join us? You could come with Ben,” Kim
offered with a friendly smile.
“Thank you, that is very kind of you,” I replied.
“Ben’s best friend Ken is invited,” she continued, “so you get to meet him as well. He’s a very nice
man, a psychologist. He has a little hotel downtown.”
“And you’ll love Janice,” Ben added. “She’s Ken’s girlfriend. She’s also a psychologist and very
interested in all that spiritual stuff you talk about all the time.”
Considering the size of the kitchen and the lavish amount of kitchen utensils and equipment, the
dinner promised to be very sumptuous.
After our workout on the turquoise water Ben invited me for breakfast. We sat down at ‘100%
Natural’ where I ordered a large plate of delicious tropical fruits.
“So tell me again, why did you move to Playa? I’m intrigued,” Ben continued after he had finished
his smoothie.
“I told you about these shamanic ceremonies I attend, remember?”
“Yes, where you take drugs and start hallucinating.”
“No Ben, that’s not what I said. Listen to my words. You should know better, being a hot shot
lawyer and all.”
A boyish look appeared on his face.
“I said that I’m part of a group of people who seriously study sacred medicinal plants. Those
monthly ceremonies are performed with great reverence for the plant teacher that resides in those
sacred plants. These vision circles, as we call them, are opened and closed with prayers for
permission, protection, guidance and strength, because those spiritual journeys can be very strong and
intense.”
“And what did you see?”
“I’ve seen a lot, Ben. I’ve seen a lot. But what I saw that particular session was the clearest image
of Playa del Carmen and the absolute knowing that I needed to live here. At first I thought that living
in paradise was just wishful thinking. I mean, who doesn’t want to live in the Caribbean? But the
Universe kept sending me these little messages of affirmation. Like you pick up a magazine and you
open it and you find an article on Palenque, or a friend gives you an interesting book on the Mayans,
you know what I mean? “
“Yes, I see what you mean. But still, it’s a big move.”
“I always knew I would end up living somewhere far away from Holland. I have too much Latino
blood in me for Dutch normality.”
“That is obvious.”
“When I made the decision to make the move, I had a well paying job, a company car and a big
apartment full of art and antiques.”
“You gave that all up?”
“There wasn’t much to give up. I wasn’t able to find an interesting job as an environmental
engineer, so I…”
“You’re an engineer?” Ben interrupted me with a growing admiration in his eyes.
“Yes, but I was working as a consultant in the information, communication and technology
business. I made business trips to Paris, Oslo and Vienna for those stupid millennium scare tests. You
know, testing the systems on being millennium proof. And then I ended up at some huge mortgage
firm, testing more stupid systems. Only my spiritual ceremonies kept me sane from that slave
existence. So, I resigned, sold everything I had, bought myself a new wardrobe and here I am!”
“But you must have been here before on vacation?”
“No, I had never traveled to this part of the world before. I had planned to, but at the last minute I
had changed my plans. I decided to go to Brazil instead and study sacred plants in the Amazons. That
was three years ago.”
“So you moved here without ever seeing Playa before?” he asked incredulously.
“Exactly!”
“You’re not only a beautiful and strong woman, but also a very courageous woman,” Ben said with
even more admiration in his voice. “I have an idea. I know you have a free room with John Lackey,
but he can be a little unpredictable at times. Why don’t you stay in my extra room when I go back to
Los Angeles? I don’t intend to come back for a while because I will be too tied up with some
complicated cases. I never rent out my house, so it would just sit empty. What do you think?”
“It sounds almost to good to be true. I don’t know what to say Ben.”
“Just think about it. And think about coming with me to Tulum next weekend. You’ll love it.” He
looked at me with his flirtatious smile. “And it’s very romantic.”
Those were not the kind of words I wanted to hear in our conversation.
“Listen Ben, I need to tell you something.” I paused for a second to emphasize the seriousness of
what I was going to reveal. “A few days before I flew to Cancun I found out I was pregnant. Or at least
that’s what I thought. I missed the pill on one occasion and I had lots of sex with my lover, so it
shouldn’t have come as a surprise. But it did. My breasts had grown a whole cup size overnight.
These breasts you see here are normally a lot smaller.”
Ben stared at my cleavage and then looked back at my eyes.
“I didn’t dare go to an abortion clinic here in Mexico, if they have any and I had too little time to
go to a clinic in Holland. I prayed for a miracle. Really Ben, on my knees I prayed and prayed and
prayed that it would go away. I promised God my chastity for as long as necessary,” I ended with a
serious tone.
“I see,” he responded with some disappointment in his voice. “That’s a strong vow. Respect.”
“Thank you Ben, I’m glad you understand my decision. Listen, I’m going to study some Spanish
now. Shall we meet again on the beach this afternoon? We can play some racket ball. I have a set of
rackets that I got in Brazil.”
“I’m much better at racket ball than with those kayaks, so prepare yourself.”
“I’ve played with the best on the beaches of Copacabaña, so we’ll see,” I said with a mischievous
smile.
Late in the afternoon I arrived at the spot where Ben and I had met each other for the first time. I
sat down on my ‘pareo’, pulled my book from my small backpack and started to read. Soon I was
totally swallowed up by the spiritual teachings from ‘The Pleiadans’ and only after three fascinating
chapters did I figure Ben wasn’t going to join me. I was a little disappointed because I very much
enjoyed our conversations and our laughs, but I concluded that something more important must have
kept him from his daily afternoon beach walk.
When I walked into my hotel room, I found an envelope on the floor that had been slipped under
the door. It was a long letter from Ben. What it came down to was that he couldn’t spend any more
time with me because I didn’t want to have sex with him. ‘To maintain my sanity’, he had written. Of
course he also withdrew his invitation to stay at his house.
When I finished reading the pages I felt like somebody had punched me in the stomach. Sex.
That’s all I was good for. I wasn’t appreciated for my personality, my character or my sense of humor.
My cunt was the only thing that counted. What was wrong with men?
Still, this letter didn’t make sense to me. We’d had such a good time. We really liked hanging out
together. How could that suddenly be over? I didn’t get it. I had to talk to him. He had written that I
was still welcome to join him for dinner in Playacar and that he would leave at seven.
Dressed in a white linen ensemble, I arrived at his door at six, which gave us sufficient time to
talk. Hesitantly Ben opened the door and welcomed me into his house. With an uncomfortable and
slightly embarrassed look on his face, he offered me a glass of wine.
“Ben…” I started teary eyed. “Do you have any idea how that letter made me feel?”
“I had no… I don’t know…” Ben stuttered boyishly.
“It made me cry.”
“I never…”
A few tears rolled down my cheek.
“That was so insensitive of you to say,” I sniffed.
“I agree. That was a poor decision of me to write it that way.’
“You didn’t even have the balls to tell me in person!”
“I was actually hoping you wouldn’t come by here anymore.”
“You are worse than I thought!”
“I’m sorry…”
“If you think I want to be an aspirin for the pain you are suffering from a relationship gone sour,
you’re wrong mister. I’m not a toy you can simply use to divert yourself from your heartache. Like a
little boy you are punishing me. If I can’t play with your toy,” I mimicked the sound of a little boy,
“you can’t play with mine and I never want to see you again!”
Ben had a sufficient amount of self-derision to allow a grin to appear on his face.
“And it’s not going to make the pain go away either.”
“I know that Paula, but I can’t help myself. It’s all I could think about. That’s how men are. When
a man wants to have a woman, he’ll do anything, he’ll say anything, anything to get inside.”
“You guys are that carnal?”
“I’m afraid so.”
“Jesus!”
“I think that he was an exception.”
We laughed.
“Remember what I told you this morning Ben? Be careful what you ask the Universe, because it
doesn’t always come the way you expect it.”
“What did I ask for?”
“You asked for more spirituality. Well, here I am, telling you the truth. I’m your mirror. Know
thyself to gain wisdom, said Socrates.”
“Paula, I’m really sorry I hurt you. I see my escapist behavior. Please, forgive me. Please?”
“You need to forgive yourself Ben.”
He smiled.
“Ben, I really want to be your friend. It’s a choice you can make, to see me as your friend. It’s
mind over matter, or in your case, mind over prick.”
“I guess you’re right.”
“There is one thing I don’t understand Ben. I told you I only had very young boyfriends and lovers,
you know, nineteen, twenty-one, maybe twenty-four year olds. Their bodies are beautifully muscular
with a soft skin. I don’t know about you older men. You grow a bald spot, a potbelly and some love
handles, but when you look in the mirror you think that we ladies are swooning over your appearance.
Ben, you are an attractive man, but you’re not God’s gift on earth. And, for my standards, your dick is
too small!”
“That hurt.”
“I know. It’s supposed to hurt. I’m saying this to turn you off. And because I’m your friend and
friends are honest.”
“So, now you are comparing me with a nineteen year old?”
“No Ben, I’m pulling you out of your illusion and into reality. Talking about reality, I thought I
had found a friend and in reality all you wanted to do was fuck me!”
“I think the reality is that we can try to be friends Paula.”
“I think so too Ben.”
We gave each other a long hug.
3. ANOTHER PIECE OF THE PUZZLE
Within a couple of weeks I had developed a nice morning routine with sunrise beach runs, yoga
classes with Pilar at ‘Bodyworks’ and daily meditations. At ‘Café Sasta’ I would drink a cappuccino,
write a little in my diary and watch the stream of colorful tourists walk by. Also ‘Java Joe’ was a
popular coffee hangout for locals, but I soon grew wary of all the gossiping and judgmental remarks
from the owners about everything and everybody they knew. After my coffee and a light breakfast I
would study a few hours of Spanish, sometimes by myself and at other times with Pilar, who had
quickly become a good friend.
Everyday I would meet some new people. I had met Shane, the owner of what was considered one
of the most original and tasteful restaurants in Playa del Carmen, called ‘Media Luna’. I had met
Yvon and Sandra, a couple from Canada who had recently made their move to Playa as well. Yvon was
an incredibly talented guitar player, which came as no surprise as he had been a director of the
Conservatory of Music in Quebec. A I had also met Guus, a Dutch entrepreneur who worked in
Merida, the capital of the Yucatan peninsula and who spent his weekends partying in Playa. Although
his foul use of language, his burping and his big pink belly didn’t work in his favor, I did recognize a
guy with a good heart.
I continued to hang out with Ben, as friends. We mostly spent our leisure time on his rooftop
terrace, the privacy allowing us to sunbath in the nude. We talked and laughed like good old friends
and occasionally he shared an erotic story he had found on the Internet. I couldn’t blame a guy for still
trying.
One afternoon Ben’s buddy Doug came by with his pregnant wife Kim and her mother Nancy, to
admire Ben’s house. He showed them around until I suddenly appeared from out of nowhere. I greeted
everybody with the customary one kiss on the cheek and a small hug.
“I’ll see you later. I need to see Harry about some work,” I said to Ben and gave him a kiss on his
mouth.
“You look all sweaty…” Doug commented with a playful tone in his voice.
“I was lying in the sun,” I responded casually.
“I bet it was hot…” Doug replied with a naughty look.
It was obvious what everybody was thinking. My good reputation went right down the drain. I
didn’t mind. It wouldn’t take long before my unusually strong appetite for sex would resurface and my
true colors would be known among the community of Playa del Carmen.
This community was a strange melting pot of Mexicans and a wide blend of Europeans, North
Americans and South Americans. What was consistent amongst this foreign mix of people was the
sense of adventure we all possessed. I realized that Playa was a unique place in Mexico and it couldn’t
represent the character of this magnificent country. Playa was a young town, rapidly growing and
expanding to become a large city. The international diversity provided the ground for a certain
freedom of expression I had not seen anywhere else. I remembered Harry’s words when he tried to
explain to me the character of this special town, which was often called ‘Playa del Karma’.
“There is no other place in Mexico like Playa,” Harry had said. “It’s like the good and the bad
coming together. It attracts both equally and that is kind of weird. There is a group of intelligent and
spiritual people who are drawn to this place and at the same time there is a greedy and tasteless
growth of the town instigated by the American and Mexican mafia who exploit the original Mayan
people.”
One Sunday morning, returning from my beach run, I passed the restaurant of ‘Da Gabi’ and saw a
bunch of familiar faces. Ben, Ken and Janice were enjoying their breakfast and all three waved at me,
indicating they wanted me to join them.
“I’m all sweaty, so I’m going to spare you the kiss this morning,” I said while I sat down on the
one empty chair left.
“I know someone who wouldn’t mind,” Ken teasingly added.
The boyish look and a big grin returned to Ben’s face.
“Benji, baby. When you’ve finished your smoothie I’ll treat you to an authentic smoochy.” The
look on Benjamin’s face was priceless. Men love promises.
Famished from a rigorous series of exercises I had added to my run, I ordered some Mexican eggs
in addition to my regular order of fresh fruit.
“Paula, this afternoon we are going to see some friends in Pamuul. They invited us for a barbeque.
Would you like to join us?” Ben asked me hopefully.
“Of course! I love to meet new people. Do I need to bring anything?” I answered enthusiastically.
“No sweetheart, we have some salads prepared and we’ll bring sufficient wine and beer,” Janice
answered, “We’ll leave our house at one, so please try to be on time.”
“I might have a Latino spirit, but Dutch punctuality is part of my genetic make-up I’m afraid.”
The barbeque was hosted by Pepe and Amy, the owners of my favorite coffee hang out, ‘Cafe
Sasta’. Their gorgeous villa was located right on the beach, surrounded by an immense garden filled
with colorful, exotic flowers and a beautiful variety of palm trees. Along the poolside a dozen people
were talking and laughing, waiting for the generous amounts of marinated meat, chicken and shrimps
to be thrown on the smoldering coals.
I poured myself a glass of white wine from one of the large coolers and soon my eye caught the
faces of Tom and Joanne. A few days ago Lavonna had introduced us, but there was little time to talk
because they were on their way to a meeting.
“Well hello!” Joanne greeted me animatedly. “How nice to see you here!”
“It’s good seeing you two as well!” I responded.
We exchanged kisses and hugs.
“I’m sorry we didn’t have more time to talk the other day, but we were on our way to a meeting
with Ted,” she explained.
“Ted Rhodes is the founder of the ecological village ‘Pueblo Sacbe’,” Tom continued, “the
community where we have our healing retreat.”
“You have a healing retreat in an ecological village?” I asked eagerly.
“We have a vision. It’s a work in progress,” Tom answered.
“Ecological? Tom, I’m an environmental engineer!” I said excitedly.
“What a coincidence!” Tom continued with his charming fervor, “I guess it’s time then that you
come and see our project.”
“I can’t wait to see your development. What is it called again?”
“It’s called ‘Pueblo Sacbe’. Sacbe is the Mayan word for white road, or road of the light so to
speak. During the times of the Mayans, the communities were connected by these roads.”
“How interesting Tom. I still know very little about the Mayan history, but next week I plan to
leave for a month and travel to the Mayan ruins of Chichen Itza, Uxmal and Palenque, and maybe even
to the mountains to visit San Cristobal de Las Casas. I’ll have plenty of time then to read up on the
Mayan culture.”
“I have an interesting book on the Maya civilization that I can lend you. It’s called ‘The Mayan
Prophecies’ by Adrian Gilbert,” Joanne offered.
“Didn’t he also write ‘The Orion Mystery’?” I asked.
“Yes, he was co-author of that book.”
“You know Joanne, I’m reading the most fascinating book now from Barbara Marciniak.”
“Ah, you mean ‘Bringers of the Dawn’?”
“Yes! You know that book?” I asked surprised.
“Of course, I read that one a few years ago. Actually, I’ve worked on a channeled book myself.”
“Really? How exciting! This is the second channeled book I’m reading. The first one was ‘The
only Planet of Choice’. I read that one a year ago. Do you know that book?”
“Yes I do. A very unique book.”
“And you Tom?”
“I’m afraid not. Only Marciniak’s book.”
“Oh, you should Tom. It gives you everything you wanted to know about the Universe but didn’t
know who or what to ask.”
“Sounds fascinating.”
“It is! It’s about this research group who has communicated with a group of enlightened beings
through a psychic transceiver over a period of twenty years. Among the group of interviewers was
Gene Roddenberry who created Star Trek and Deep Space Nine. This enlightened circle of universal
beings is known as the Council of Nine from Deep Space. There is one speaker who represents this
circle and his name is Tom. He is a great storyteller like you.”
“I like the comparison, please go on.”
“Tom, I had no idea that highly advanced extra terrestrial civilizations have been visiting our
planet for hundreds of thousands of years! I had no idea that we are star seeds. More than twenty-four
different extra terrestrial races are part of our genetic make-up. Did you know that?”
“I wasn’t aware of that number, but something similar came up in Marciniak’s book,” Tom
answered.
“And I had no idea that this planet is an experiment created by God, or Source or Great Spirit, or
whatever you want to call it. We are the only ones who have a free will, each one of us individually.
No God can interfere with our free will. Some of us have chosen good over bad and many have not.
Look where we are now. It’s not a pretty picture. But we are on a threshold. It’s up to us to make that
spiritual change. We can make that choice. We need to. We are the change that we have been waiting
for.”
“You are quite the speaker yourself when Spirit moves you.”
“Yes I know, I can get a little carried away at times.”
“No on the contrary, I love your passion.”
“And now,” I continued, “with ‘Bringers of the Dawn’ the picture becomes even more complete. I
had no idea that they had messed with our DNA. We used to have twelve strands and they left us with
only two!”
“Yes, some galactic battles were fought, the baddies won and took over our planet. Did you know
that they actually have a reptilian form? They’re lizzies.”
“I’m not so sure about that Tom.”
“Then you should read ‘The Biggest Secret’ by David Icke. Those ancient bloodlines have
continued through royalty and some of the most powerful families in the world like the Rockefellers
and the Rothschild’s. They run the show on this planet.”
“That should be an interesting read Tom.”
“Yes, it is truly fascinating reading material.”
I looked at Joanne. “Oh, don’t you just love to read about all this stuff?”
“Yes I agree, it’s wonderful material. Little by little all the pieces of the puzzle are falling
together.”
“Exactly! The books by Shirley MacLaine were a great inspiration to me during my early
twenties, and then I continued with all the books from Neal Donald Walsch.”
“Yes, I recall those; the ‘Conversations with God’ series. I never actually read them though.”
“I even have a signed copy,” I said with a certain pride in my voice. “I met him a year ago in
Holland after the seminar I had attended with Mary.”
“I remember Mary, she was here last spring. Very nice woman, beautiful energy.” Joanne
commented.
“Mary spoke very highly of you two. She definitely had her role in my move to Playa.”
“Everything is connected Paula.”
“I know Joanne. We are one.”
“Coincidences happen when the Universe is doing its work.”
“But those messages from the Pleiadians are something else. We are members of the Family of
Light! We are light workers. We have come here with a mission. We are here to help the people
remember our true heritage. When our DNA is restored we will finally return to our true form and we
will be like Gods again! Maybe we have come from the future to assist human kind in their spiritual
evolution?”
“That is absolutely a possibility,” Joanne agreed.
“But I’ve known this before I started reading those channeled books.”
“Really?” Tom asked. “How so?”
“Well, my biggest passion is studying sacred plants and their ceremonial use. For the past three
years I’ve attended many ceremonies where we have consumed Ayahuasca, Jurema or Psylocibine,
especially in combination with Peganum Harmala. During one of those ceremonies I felt my own
divinity so strongly. I was pure energy and could move through different dimensions. Those realities
were always more real to me than our reality here and now. This is just an illusion, you know, like the
movie ‘The Matrix’. I clearly saw that our planet was covered in this thick layer of dark, dense energy
and that we were trapped inside. I remember that I was so pissed, thinking: I’m a Goddess and you
leave me trapped on a planet where I can’t remember that I’m a Goddess and you didn’t even bother to
tell me! I know this is a ‘free will’ experiment, but you could have informed us!”
Tom and Joanne started to laugh at my animated acting skills.
“Have you ever worked with any sacred plants?” I asked.
“Not the ones you have mentioned.” Tom replied, “But we did take some magic mushrooms when
Joanne and I were in Palenque.”
“Did you know that Mexico has the largest variety in psycho-active plants?” I continued.
“I had no idea. And did you know that seventy percent of all the medicinal plants are from the
Yucatan?” Joanne added.
“I didn’t know that. There’s another piece of the puzzle.”
“Paula, I think you have come to Playa del Carmen at exactly the right time,” Tom added.
I smiled. “I think so too.”
4. A CHILLY NIGHT
Valladolid, a small colo nial town located about 150 km west of Playa del Carmen, was the starting
point of my journey to the Mayan pyramids. First I enjoyed a trip to the ‘cenote’ X’keken. I
descended a wooden staircase into a giant cave, revealing large stalactites and stalagmites. The
underground lake was beautifully lighted through an opening in the roof and a refreshing dip in the
cool, crystal clear water washed off all my accumulated sweat. With a visit to the church of San
Bernardino de Siena, the oldest of its kind in the Yucatan peninsula, I completed my round of tourist
attractions. A young Mayan boy offered me a free tour of the church grounds, divulging an impressive
amount of historical facts. Through the garden, the small ‘cenote’ and the cellars, he guided me to the
rooftop of the neighboring convent of Sisal. Together we watched a breathtaking sunset and waited for
the full moon to rise from the east. Lying on our backs we looked at millions of twinkling stars and
talked about God.
My journey continued to the archeological site of Chichen Itza, where I had found a nice hotel
called the ‘Pyramid Inn’, which was close to the ruins. Fortunately this hotel offered a space to hang
my hammock. As I stored my backpack under the large palapa, I noticed a person sleeping under a
mosquito net. The size of the sandals and the vast amount of empty beer bottles suggested to me that
this person was very likely not a female traveler.
Long before the throngs of tourists had arrived, I found myself on top of the Pyramid of Kukulcan,
admiring the view over the Yucatan jungle. Ninety-one steps had led me to the top platform. Counting
the steps on the other three faces, including the top platform, I came to a total of three hundred and
sixty-five, one for each day of the solar calendar. On each face I had counted nine succeeding
platforms that were divided into two sections. According to my travel book it was thought to represent
the yearly Mayan calendar ‘Haab’, which counted eighteen months with each twenty days. The
pyramid had fifty-two panels in the nine terraces, representing the fifty-two years it takes for the
Mayan calendar to return to date. In addition to the beautiful presentation of the Mayan calendar, there
was another phenomenon that was noteworthy of the Pyramid of Kukulkan, or the feathered serpent.
During the spring and fall equinoxes the sun projects an undulating pattern of light on the northern
stairway, which is caused by the angle of the sun and the edge of the nine steps. Combined with the
colossal stone carvings of snakeheads at the base of the stairs, an illusion is created of a massive
serpent snaking down the structure.
I continued to explore the area and its structures. I learned that this was a relatively young site,
where a large Mayan community thrived between the seventh and ninth centuries and where many
structures, including the famous Pyramid of Kukulkan, were not Mayan but Toltec in design and
influence. Strangely I had to lie down several times on shaded pieces of grass for long periods of time,
because all morning I felt extremely tired, as if a heavy energy was pressing down on me. Towards
noon many loud Americans, singing Italians, clicking Japanese and other boisterous tourists began to
flood the site. The invading sea of shorts, sun hats and nauseating odors of chemically perfumed
sunscreens became unbearable. I decided to return to my hotel and enjoy a well-deserved siesta in a
shaded hammock after a refreshing dip in the pool and a nice Mexican lunch.
I thought about reading a little more about the Mayan history and pulled out my travel guide from
my backpack. According to the information in this book, the pre-Hispanic civilizations came from
Siberia. The Mayan civilization flourished from the second to the tenth centuries, inhabiting a region
from Honduras all the way up through Guatemala and Belize, and extending to the southern part of
Mexico. The Mayan were a great civilization of builders, traders and rulers. When the Spanish
conquistadors arrived in the Yucatan pen insula in the sixteenth century they destroyed priceless
documents and artifacts. Only a few books survived their senseless rampage and through these books
scholars discovered hieroglyphs. Soon the code of the Mayan calendar was cracked, which enabled
many scholars to translate the inscriptions found on buildings, temples and stelae. Detailed
astrological tables were found in these books, outshining the knowledge of the Greeks and the
Egyptians.
I continued to read more remarkable anthropological facts and theories, but I soon realized that I
was more interested in the spiritual meaning behind all this information.
The next moment an energetic young man in his late twenties entered the palapa. His silhouette
was Mexican, but his face looked as if he was of European descent. He had a rich and powerful voice.
“Buenas tardes señorita! I was wondering who my next roomy would be,” he started jovially. “And
I’m pleasantly surprised I might add.”
“Thank you, and how charming of you to say that. Only a European would use that wording.”
“My parents were Scottish but I’ve lived in Mexico all my life. Mallagh is my name. Nice to meet
you!”
We shook hands and realized we both had a strong handshake.
“Nice to meet you too! My name is Paula. I’m from Holland, but I recently moved to Mexico.”
“Care for a beer and smoke?”
“As long as you’re not talking about cigarettes.”
“What do you take me for? I believe in this green medicine!” Mallagh said passionately.
“Join the club!” I added.
“You’re my kind of girl,” he winked.
I smiled back at him. “Kindred spirits.”
“So, you just arrived in magical Maya land. To learn about the Mayans and 2012?” he asked with a
certain wise look in his eyes.
“Yes, about the Mayans and 2012, and many other things as well,” I replied.
“And what have you learned so far?”
“Not much of course. I learned that the Mayans descended from Siberia when their ancestors
crossed the land through the Bering Strait, but somehow I find that hard to believe.”
“Of course you find that hard to believe, because it’s bunch of crock!”
“Where do you think they came from then?” I asked.
“I believe they came from Atlantis. Many priests fled the sinking continent. Some traveled to
Mexico and some to Egypt and God knows where else. That theory makes sense when you realize that
both the Egyptian pyramids of Giza and the Mexican pyramids of Teotihuacan were built around the
same time and that they both have exactly the same layout: a perfect reproduction of the constellation
of the three stars of the Orion Belt. Other people believe they came from the stars, because they are
time travelers. At least it’s a more interesting theory than that Siberia story.”
“I just read that the whole Maya civilization suddenly disappeared, around the tenth century I
believe. What do you think has happened?”
“I’m not sure where they went. Maybe to our inner earth ‘Agartha’. Maybe their work was done
here and they disappeared through some time portal. They are the keepers of time you know.”
“Mallagh, why do you think they were here?”
“To share with us their knowledge about the cosmic cycles of time.”
“You mean the Mayan Calendar?”