Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
The Earliest Shrine - 3. Chapter 3
**
Everyone was there except Winston. Winston's mom said, "There must be something going around. Winston said he wasn't feeling well this morning."
After the meal, James confronted Amelia. "Amelia, Where is Winston? He moved all his stuff out of our room. I need to talk to him."
"James, he doesn't want to see you ever again."
**
He stood staring at Amelia, fighting off tears.
"He doesn't want to talk to you, James, but you need to talk to him. You're a nice guy, and I know you'll be understanding. He's hiding in my room. Here's the card key."
James nervously made his way up to Amelia's room. He knocked. No answer. He knocked again.
Winston shouted, "Go away! I don't want to talk to anyone."
"It's James. Let me in."
There was a pause before Winston replied. "James, just leave me alone. I can't talk to you."
"Please".
No answer.
"I'm coming in," said James as he swiped the lock.
Winston was standing a couple of yards away from the door. His eyes were red and slightly puffy. Had he been crying?
"I'm sorry for what happened, Winston. I hope we can still be friends."
"Why are you sorry, James? Why do you want to be friends with me?"
"Cause I like you, and we have fun together."
"But you were so angry at me at the museum. I shouldn't have touched you like that."
James thought for a second, confused by Winston's response. "I wasn't mad, I was embarrassed."
"Embarrassed, why were you embarrassed?"
"I was afraid you wouldn't like me anymore after discovering I was gay."
"You're gay?”
"Yeah, I thought you knew by my reaction after you punched me in the butt. Then, when you hurried away, I thought you didn't like gay guys."
Winston brightened up. "I love gay guys, or I would if I met the right one."
They silently stared at each other until James approached Winston and kissed him. It was the first romantic kiss for either of them, awkward at first but with joyful certainty that it would improve with practice.
All too soon, Winston's phone rang. It was his mom.
He answered, "Hi, Mom … I'm feeling much better." Looking into James' eyes, he added, "I've never felt better ... He's here; I'll put you on speaker."
"Hi, James," said Winston's mom.
"Hi, Barbara".
"You guys need to get over here right away."
"What is it?" asked Winston.
"I'll explain when you get here." And she hung up.
"I'll move my stuff back into our room when we get back." Said Winston with a slightly mischievous smile.
"I'll help!" replied James.
They took the short walk to the cathedral. Security was light. After all, it was a church. The door leading down to the vaulted area and the excavation of the Mithraeum was ajar. As they descended the steps, members of the archaeological crew passed them carrying buckets of rubble.
James could sense that otherworldly feeling coming on him again, but it wasn't nearly as debilitating as it was three days earlier.
Winston's mom was standing behind the altar and statue of Mithras. She and Dr. Wagner were inspecting something in or on the back wall. As James and Winston got closer, they noticed their fathers standing a few feet away, observing hardly visible frescoes on the back wall.
As they got closer, it was apparent that a set of doors was embedded in the wall. They appeared almost black with hints of green around some of the seams. A crossbar, made of the same material, was set in place, securing the door.
Noticing the boys' approach, Barbara said. "I thought you boys deserved to be among the first to see this. It's spectacular. You wouldn't expect to see bronze doors of this period and quality outside of Rome."
"That's amazing mom. Have you opened them yet?" asked Winston.
"No, we have to take a great deal of care in removing the doors. Additionally, we'll need to perform an environmental check to ensure there isn't anything nasty on the other side, like nauseous gases or molds."
"Yeah, that makes sense," said Winston, "how long will it take?"
"That's hard to say, sweet-ums. Maybe a week."
Winston cringed in embarrassment at his mother calling him 'sweet-ums.' He turned to James, finding him staring at the door.
In a flat, expressionless voice, James stated, "There's nothing dangerous on the other side of the door. At least nothing dangerous for us.”
"Are you alright?" asked a concerned Winston.
James shook his head to clear his thoughts, "I got that funny feeling again, but it was easier to shake it off this time."
"Maybe," said Winston, "but I think we should return to the hotel now."
Amelia was in her room when they arrived.
James handed her the card key she had loaned him and said. "Thanks, I won't need this anymore."
Amelia looked from James to Winston and back to James. "What's going on?"
"Nothing, we're just moving Winston's stuff back to our room."
She smiled a knowing smile. All three of them broke out laughing.
After collecting Winston's stuff, Amelia said as they left, "You boys, be good."
James sat on his bed watching Winston unpack until he couldn't resist sneaking up behind him, hugging him around the waist, and kissing him on the neck. Winston broke out in goosebumps, turned, and kissed James on the lips. After a couple of minutes, they separated. As much as they wanted to go further, neither was ready to take the next step. That night, they both took some extra time in the bathroom.
During the next week, the boys kept busy. They stopped by the cathedral almost every day to check on the progress.
Winston's dad was an ancient art historian, and James' dad was a specialist in pre-Christian religions. James and Winston's dad's specialties complimented each other. A fresco preservation specialist from Florence was working on cleaning and preserving the newly discovered frescos on the back wall. There was a fresco on either side of the doors. They were unlike anything found before.
Paul Crawford, Winston, and Amelia's dad described the unusual depictions on the frescoes. "The frescoes on the back wall are stylistically older than the rest of the Mithraeum. They're probably fifty years older." Pointing to the central figure on the left side of the door, he began. "This is a depiction of Mithras, portrayed as a youth, wearing the Phrygian cap and holding the dagger and torch, but instead of a bull, another youth stands slightly behind him and at his side. We wouldn't be certain it was Mithras's if it weren't for the context."
James' dad, Vincent, continued, "We've never seen Mithras depicted this way and never with a companion. It's a mystery."
Paul walked over to the panel on the right. "It’s interesting that this is a similar composition to the fresco to the left of the door, only there is different iconology."
"Note the symbol on Mithras's cloak clasp," said Vincent.
"It looks like a fish," said James.
"You're right. It was called an ichthus at the time."
"An ichthus?"
Vincent explained, "Yes, ichthus is the Greek word for fish. Early in their history, Christians adopted the ichthus as a secret symbol. Note the youth accompanying Mithras. He displays another early Christian symbol, the cross, and anchor."
"What does it mean?" asked Winston.
"Historians have speculated on the link between the Cult of Mithras and Christianity for years. They both emerged at about the same time, and although we know little about the theology of the Cult of Mithras, there are similarities in imagery and the concept of sacrifice, death, and rebirth. This is the clearest indication yet that the religions had some relationship. We may never know who inspired who."
"What about the companions? What do they mean?"
"I wish I knew. Maybe something behind the bronze doors will give us a better idea," replied Vincent.
As the boys left the cathedral on their way back to the hotel, James turned to Winston and said. "They were lovers."
"Who were lovers?"
"Mithras and the other boy".
One afternoon they decided to visit a gay bar in Augsburg to learn something about queer culture in Germany and get someone to buy them beers. They were shooed out of the club before they reached the bar. It seems they had a lot to learn about bar hopping and the do's and don't's of drinking under the age of sixteen in Germany.
Another day, they snuck off to Munich. Their parents would have killed them if they knew. They were excited to explore the city and see all the sights it had to offer.
The boys started their day by visiting Marienplatz, the heart of the city, with its famous Glockenspiel. They then headed to St. Peter's, also known as Alter Peter, one of the city's most famous churches and vantage points. They raced up the tower, counting the steps as they went. Winston counted 304 and James 308. They were both wrong. There are 306 steps to the top of the tower.
Hungry, they toured the famous Viktualienmarkt, where they snacked on various local small plates.
They visited the Deutsches Museum, an enormous natural science museum, in the afternoon. They didn't have much time to explore the museum but enjoyed the musical instrument evolution exhibit and the health exhibition with its giant heart.
Finally, they ended their tour of Munich by rushing through the BMW Welt and BMW Museum, where they saw all kinds of cool cars and motorcycles.
It was an exciting and exhausting day. They arrived back in Augsburg just in time to meet with the families for dinner.
Benjamin was suspicious of James and Winston's absence that day. He was probably upset that he was left out of the older boys' activities. James made a mental note to include Benjamin on their next adventure.
Winston's mom announced they were removing the bronze door the next day. The crossbar and hinges were removed, and the environmental test checked out, just as James predicted.
The next day, James and Winston, their dads, Winston's mom, Dr. Wagner, and four other archaeologists assembled in the Mithraeum to view the removal of the Roman doors.
Planks of wood supported the doors. The archeologists carefully pried the doors away from the wall. It seemed to take forever. The level of anticipation was through the roof when the doors finally broke free and were carefully lowered to an awaiting wheeled cart.
Behind the doors was a passage carved out of solid rock. There had been some minor rock slides, but overall, the passage was remarkably clear of rubble.
Dr. Wagner was knowledgeable about structural integrity. Shining powerful lights down the passage, he said. "Let me take a look first. I'll make sure it's safe."
The archeologist entered the passage. The floor was rough and dusty but still passable. He headed downhill for about fifty yards until all those viewing from the Mithraeum could see only the glow of his lamp.
Dr. Wagner shouted, "You're not going to believe this. There's another bronze door, only this one isn't Roman."
The corridor could only accommodate four or five people at a time. They all had a chance to view the discovery.
James and Winston took their turn, accompanied by Barbara and Vincent.
The passage was eerie with the uneven walls and the irregular, constantly shifting shadows. They could see the dark shape of the single door as they approached. Upon closer inspection, James wasn't sure it was a door at all. It seemed more like a barrier roughly fitted in place. It was partially collapsed. Barbara surmised that the bronze originally clad a wooden door which had rotted away millennia ago, leaving only the husk.
Vincent asked, "What time period do you estimate for this door?"
Barbara answered, "It'll take some study and testing, but if I had to guess, I'd say early Urnfield Culture, that's usually considered around 1300–1150 BC.
"Up to 3300 years old, that's amazing!"
While they were marveling at this remarkable artifact, James said in his now familiar tone-less voice. "They're ready for us to enter."
Shivers traveled up Winston's spine. He stuttered, "Wh…wh… who's waiting for us James?"
"They are."
- 11
- 14
- 4
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
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