The Red-Headed League of Megalith Builders

 The Red-Headed League of Megalith Builders

He adjusted his long hair inside his red bandana and straightened his knap-sack out before heading from his overnight encampment in the jungle’s lush cover to make his way towards Kukulcana on the Pacific Ocean coast. It had been another adventurous journey as Sean Macleod walked the final leg of the way to the port. He would be taken to the best fence company near me  mountains where the Mu civilization had re-located the bulk of their culture after the last Ice Age. He had heard about the University of Puma Puncu since he was a young boy growing up in Memphis, Egypt. His life was ‘blessed’ by a heritage that few could hope for. He’d been destined to become a member of the Atlantean ‘Red-Headed League’ ever since his birth to a head mason/engineer some twenty seven years ago.

For the majority of the last year he had been living with the Mu people who were building a new civilization in the lowlands of the peninsula called Yucatan. He was walking with more than his usual fervor as he saw the city that was named after the demi-god Quetzacoatl who went by many names, throughout the lands colonized by the great civilization called the Motherland. He had been amongst the Chichimecs who called this flying serpent god associated with the Pleiades constellation, Xolotl; as he had made his way around the Gulf of Mexica, to his assignment in the Yucatan just over a year ago. He was still wearing the Buffalo skin suit that they had presented him with on the night of his departure. The small village of Oaxaca in the smallish mountains on the Pacific side of Mexica had been his last opportunity to share the company of these warm and peaceful people.

There it was; he could see the masts rising above the two storied adobe buildings that made up this growing trading post. He went to the official dockmaster’s office and asked when his ship would be leaving. The jolly older lady who ran things had enjoyed playing around as she made it clear that his fellow travelers had to arrive first. There was one member staying at the hacienda down the street. Sean had asked what this person looked like and they had all laughed. He had some difficulty telling people apart in this part of the world, where everyone had the same colour hair and similar skin colour as well. He headed to the bar where he assumed this person would be waiting. The small children who had gathered around him were laughing and pointing at his hair and talking amongst each other excitedly as he made his way towards the bar.

It was surrounded by a mahogany fence which the artisan had done an excellent job of working a variety of indigenous plants into. He loved the century plants at either end, or corner of the yard. He stopped just inside the gate with its two onyx pillars and carved iron wood statues, to admire the whole effect created by the flowering vines and wood beam open porch with a roof that extended out to cover the tables where a few people were having their coffee. It smelled so welcoming.

Suddenly he was jolted out of his musing by a woman calling ‘HI! RED!’ the

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