Chapter 5: Hoosier Connection

Sunday, 22 May 1955, Indianapolis, Indiana

Doc and Margaret boarded a train to Chicago with Milton’s notes safely tucked between them. The Chicago tickets, purchased by William the day before their departure, would postpone anyone following them at least a day. If they were lucky, it would send someone ahead of them to Chicago. When they arrived in Fort Wayne, Indiana, they got off the train. Wesley Allen was waiting to pick them up. The meeting was warm and cordial.

The three-hour trip from Fort Wayne to Wesley’s home in Indianapolis was spent discovering more about each other. Wesley taught courses in piano, music history, and musicology. He was engaged to be married, but they were waiting until Rebecca had finished her Master’s in Sociology. Wesley’s undergrad minor had been in New Testament Studies and he was reasonably fluent in both Greek and Latin. He was, as Margaret had guessed, a Methodist.

After they defined their goals for the visit in terms of learning about music as it relates to classic literature and Wesley had given them a quick rundown on his work in the area, they retired for the night. Wesley’s hospitality was impeccable. He insisted that Doc and Margaret stay with him in spite of their prior hotel arrangements. They would meet again after Wesley finished his instruction in the morning. He would bring Rebecca with him to lunch if they didn’t mind.

Monday, 23 May 1955, Indianapolis, Indiana

When Doc and Margaret arose in the morning they found a continental breakfast had been prepared for them with a note indicating where the nearest restaurants were and what numbers called cabs. After looking at the listings and directions, the two decided to spend the morning preparing for their interview with Wesley.

“How shall we get around to the sources for his research?” Doc asked Margaret. “We need to be discreet. If he knows more than we do, we could be endangering our purpose.”

“I suggest that we be totally honest with him. I don’t mean to say that we should tell him the entire purpose of our visit up front, but tell him that we are very interested in his method of notation and how he arrived at it. We might even indicate that we had seen some similar notations before. Either he will withdraw, in which case we are better not to attempt to push him, or he will respond with the same candor. He seems to be thoroughly familiar with us and our work.”

“That is what I was worried about. Do you suppose that he already knows about the place? Let’s go take a look at Wilton’s manuscripts to see if he left any notes here that may have been found.”

Margaret was agreeable and when they reached the college library, they were led up a back stairway to “the stacks.”

“This is where the old papers are kept,” the student librarian rambled on. “We don’t have as great a facility for keeping things in good condition as we should. This building is newer, though, and it’s a lot better than when the library occupied a couple of rooms over in the Administration Building. We really needed the space.” She ran on and on, seeming never to get to the point of the papers that Doc and Margaret were after. “The papers came over here in boxes and have never been unpacked. Before that, they just sat in stacks on the shelves. I guess that’s why we call this area the stacks. Here we are.” She finally came to a steel shelving unit with boxes stacked on it. “Benjamin Wilton. Everything should be in this box. I hope that you find everything that you want. If I can do anything for you, just let me know. There’s a new phone system connecting the stacks with the desk. It’s right over there. Don’t forget to let me know when you are ready to leave. I’ll have to come back up and lock the doors.” She finally left.

Doc and Margaret went to work immediately. They began sorting and ordering the papers as best they could.

“It looks as if the papers were packed into this box in a hurry. No particular order at all.”

“True, but at least they don’t appear to have been rifled and repacked,” Doc said.

“Do you really suppose they just picked up stacks of paper from shelves and put them in the boxes? There isn’t even a catalog number on the papers. Oh, look!” she said, holding up a couple sheets from her stack.

“Music of the Gods?” Doc said. “Look at the notes. The same hieroglyphs that are in Wilton’s papers and at the City. He didn’t even finish it. Broke off in the middle of a sentence. That’s strange.”

“Or else a page is missing.” Margaret looked at Doc. Both seemed to know already that they would find the missing page or pages in Wesley’s possession.

“It’s time for our luncheon. We must take a good look at this young man.” Heinrich loaded the papers back into the larger box as Margaret called the librarian and she dutifully locked the doors behind them—and talked all the way back downstairs to the main floor.

“That girl should consider a career other than librarian,” Margaret laughed as they left the building.

A young woman was putting dishes on the table when Doc and Margaret reached Wesley’s home. They were all startled to see each other when the two came through the door unannounced.

“Excuse me,” the young woman said at last. “Wesley said that we would have guests for lunch, but I guess I expected you all to arrive at once. Please come in.”

“We arrived last night but went out for a walk this morning. You must be Rebecca. I’m Margaret Jacobsen and this is Phillip Heinrich. You have a look about you that has told me already that we are going to become very good friends.”

Rebecca laughed and greeted Margaret warmly. “When Wes told me he was picking up Doctors Heinrich and Jacobsen, I thought you’d both be men. I’m so glad I was wrong.”

“If you will excuse me,” Doc broke in, “I will go wash up before dinner. You obviously have a great deal in common to talk about.”

“Oh, Phillip. You are such a martyr.” Doc grinned at the women as he left the room. “Now, Rebecca,” Margaret continued, “tell me about your work. What Wesley described was so interesting.”

“My master’s? It’s a sociology degree. I’m all but thesis. It’s a study of the Coexistence of Matriarchal Thealogy and Patriarchal Theocracy in Western Societies.”

“Do I interpret you correctly in saying ‘goddess worship’?”

“Wesley would kill me if I put it that way,” responded Rebecca. “But yes. There seems to be quite a lot of evidence that even into modern times some forms of that cult held sway in certain western civilizations long after the people had officially been Christianized. It is difficult here in Indiana to find adequate resources, though.”

“You realize, don’t you, that most Westerners term that witchcraft? Now it’s not so poorly viewed in many Eastern cultures.”

“Wesley is nervous enough about my dealing with the subject. Please don’t use that term in his presence. He’s so conservative. And now...” Rebecca took a deep breath. “I’ve been awarded a fellowship for the summer at Edinburgh and he’s not very happy about my going off alone. It will delay our wedding until fall instead of June as we had planned. I think he’s also a little jealous, though he wouldn’t admit it.”

“Rebecca, I think we might be good news for you—in more ways than one.” The front door opened and Wesley hurried into the house as Doc came downstairs.

“Ah, I see you have all met already. I’m sorry to be late at my own dinner party. A student had an urgent problem with Liszt.”

“A dedicated teacher. That’s a good sign,” Doc said. “And it did give at least two of us a chance to get to know each other.”

“Well, I’ll have lunch on the table in a minute. I have everything we need in the Frigidaire.” Wesley returned with a platter that revealed not only salad, but a substantial portion of cold cuts as well. The meal was light and friendly and by the end, all felt much more at ease. There was a short pause in the conversation as each finished coffee or crackers. Rebecca was the first to break the silence.

“Well, I suppose that you have some important matters to discuss. I’ll clean up the dishes and make coffee if you’d all like to go into the living room.”

“Thank you, Rebecca,” Wesley said.

“Nonsense,” responded Doc. “Wesley told us some very fascinating things about you in the car yesterday. I’d like to ask you some questions also. Can’t we all share a hand in cleaning up and then gather for the mutual benefit of all our educations?”

Margaret winked at Rebecca who smiled back. It was agreed upon over Wesley’s objections over asking guests to clean the table.

“One thing I’ve learned while on digs and expeditions is that everyone needs to contribute to the menial tasks or we can’t work together on the major ones,” Doc said. “I’ve become an accomplished dishwasher after nearly forty years in archaeology.”

They settled into comfortable chairs in the living room with a cup of coffee each.

“Now, tell me, Rebecca,” started Doc. “You are working on your Master’s, isn’t that right?”

“She’s really got it pretty well under control already,” said Wesley. “It won’t be long after this summer, will it, darling?”

Rebecca made an effort at a smile. Doc turned to Wesley and raised an eyebrow. It was a look that Wesley had used himself when a student got out of hand. He shrank back in his chair.

“What I wanted to know, Rebecca, was the subject of your thesis. It is in Sociology, is it not?”

“Yes, sir.” Doc’s glance at Wesley had cowed Rebecca a bit as well. “The subject is the Coexistence of Matriarchal Thealogy and Patriarchal Theocracy in Western Societies.”

“Goddess worship,” muttered Wesley low enough not to draw a reprimand from Doc.

“Have you explored the origins of this coexistence? You know, total matriarchy versus total patriarchy? The primitive versus the contemporary?”

“Oh yes, Doctor Heinrich. It seems to broaden the subject too much to deal with in one thesis. Much of the available resource material focuses on the supplanting of matriarchy by patriarchy, not their coexistence. Do you agree?”

“I do, but I wanted to make sure that you had explored the subject. Goddess worship, as your fiancé has referred to it, takes many forms and is still practiced in many countries where men sit in parliaments and women practice spells to increase the harvest or keep the children safe. I would like you to visit an acquaintance of mine before you complete your work if it is possible.”

“I’m going to Scotland for the summer to finish writing my thesis at the University of Edinburgh. I leave in two weeks.”

“Splendid,” Doc smiled. He scrawled a name on a piece of paper and handed it to Rebecca. She looked puzzled.

“Mrs. Weed? How do I find her?”

“I will write to her. She is one of the few genuine goddess worshipers that I know. You needn’t find her; she’ll find you.”

“Thank you,” Rebecca said hesitantly.

The conversation continued on the discussion of primitive culture until Doc and Margaret had carefully bent it back to Wesley’s topic.

“Do I understand from our previous conversation that you can make a literal translation of ancient languages into music?” Margaret asked. She made it sound like Wesley’s paper was a natural complement to Rebecca’s research.