Pearls Read Online Free Page B

Adelina! You’re a genius.”
    Smiling, the woman handed the list back to Isabel.
    “One more thing.” Isabel folded the paper and put it in her pocket. “I’m going to need some reference books on old Indian languages.”
    Adelina’s smile faded, and she shook her head. “I would love to help you, but I do not think I can. Hundreds of tribes inhabited Venezuela before the Spaniards arrived, and they all spoke their own language or dialect. None of them used a formal written language, Isabel. You should know that from your studies.”
    A nervous flutter started in her stomach and reverberated up into her chest. For the first time, Isabel feared she might not be able to finish the translation. “Yes, but surely there were explorers or missionaries who recorded information on the native languages. You must have something.”
    “I do, but without knowing which tribe or language to search for, we could spend years looking and not find the answers you need.”
    Defeat hovered over her, threatening to swallow the enthusiasm she had enjoyed the last few weeks. The journal had given her a sense of purpose and a heritage more wonderful than any she could have imagined. The thought of never completing the translation disheartened her. “Please, will you at least try?” she begged.
    “I don’t know how, Isabel, but I think I know someone who can.” Adelina opened her desk drawer and pulled out a directory of university faculty. “Here,” she said, tapping her manicured fingernail against a name on the second page. “Manuel Santiago is teaching an archaeology class this semester. He is knowledgeable about the ancient populations that inhabited this region. If anyone can help you, he can.” Adelina scribbled his office address and phone number on a scrap of paper.
    “Thank you!” Isabel accepted the note with a grateful smile. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I think I’ll drop by his office before I head home.”

 
 
 
Three
    Manuel stared at the full-page picture accompanying the feature article in the archaeology journal. Julio, his old college classmate, had made the find of a lifetime in Egypt, and his success had received worldwide acclaim. Manuel knew he should feel proud of his friend, but his own sense of failure overpowered any goodwill.
    “Figures! I spent three lousy years as a dig assistant , and now I’m stuck in a classroom. Julio probably has sponsors lined up, begging to fund his digs, and I can’t get anyone to even listen to my requests.” Manuel thumped the magazine down on his desk and stared at the stack of reports that needed grading. While he appreciated the rigors of academia, he had no desire to spend his career in archaeology behind a podium or a desk. He wanted to work in the field—exploring, digging, and discovering.
    With a sigh he opened his drawer and pulled out a red pen. I may as well get to it. He had just lifted the first paper from the stack when a knock sounded at his office door.
    “Come in!”
    The door swung open, revealing a striking young woman. She was tall by Venezuelan standards, probably in her early twenties. Her appearance and coloring denoted a Spanish bloodline, but her clothes and her body language suggested she was a foreigner. “Manuel Santiago?” She eased into the room, glancing around at the floor-to-ceiling bookcases lining every wall, shelves bowing under the weight of their load.
    A wave of self-consciousness swept over Manuel as she eyed his less than tidy desk. He quickly shuffled a stack of student reports and dropped the journal he’d been reading into a drawer. “Can I help you?” He gestured to a chair in front of his desk. She slid her backpack from her shoulders and set it beside the chair, then took a seat.
    “Professor Santiago, my name is Isabel Palmer. I’m working on a project and could use your assistance. If I could have a moment of your time to show you this….” She bent to rummage through her backpack.
    Though she spoke his