The Kukulkan Manuscript Read Online Free PDF

Kinnard was always pulling Ulman out of trouble. But he didn’t know what to do with Ulman’s latest predicament.
    In 1948, Troy Kinnard caught Chris Ulman slyly taking candy from the smooth glass jar on the counter of the First corner store. Kinnard remembered his amazement. He had no idea how Ulman had removed the metal lid from the jar so quickly. There wasn’t even the faintest sound. Mr. Hefleiter, the storekeeper, busily spoke to Maria Higgins, which for once was a turn of events. Maria Higgins, weighing in at three hundred pounds, could talk more than a bird could sing! Somehow she and old baldy Hefleiter had come upon a subject Hefleiter had way too much interest in. Hefleiter interrupted her repeatedly, overexcited about the topic. Mrs. Higgins stuttered and wrestled to get a full sentence in as he rambled at high speed. Kinnard didn’t have a clue as to the subject of the conversation, and that was when he turned to find Chris with his hand in the candy jar.
    Wham—bam! Without a sound, Ulman’s hand was out of the jar, the thin metal lid miraculously back in place, and Chris grinned, showing yellow, orange, and green hard candies for a split second before sliding them into his pocket.
    They were only ten years old, but Troy had considered himself as intelligent as if he were twenty.
    His wide eyes darted to Higgins and Hefleiter, both rotund and still talking like two dogs yipping face to face. Mrs. Higgins’s round face flushed red. Hefleiter’s glowed as if he was about to win a very long tennis match. But unfortunately for the ten year old boys, both adults slid down the counter toward the candy jar.
    The counter had been built right onto the floor, wood against wood. The planking was old, and Hefleiter liked it that way. Someone, before Hefleiter’s day no doubt, had put the small building on its short stilts and set the warped wood down over the anciently sturdy frame. The boards had crumbled over the years, so it creaked quite a bit when walked across. Hefleiter appreciated the sounds because he could shout, “May I help you!” from anywhere in the store as soon as someone entered. The squeaky planks did the job that laser lights and bells do today. By listening quickly, Hefleiter could discern the number of the customers, whether they were children or adults, and in the case of Mrs. Higgins, he could even tell it was her without hearing her voice or seeing her face. Hefleiter claimed he knew the sound of everyone in Greenwich who happened to play on his old accordion deck.
    But as Hefleiter and Higgins tromped in the direction of the two ten-year old boys, Kinnard remembered glancing with guilty eyes at the candy jar.
    The lid hadn’t gone on all the way.
    The floor creaked and bounced, and the counter rocked just a little.
    Ulman turned around. Both boys knew the alarm was about to sound; the metal top would slip clear of the jar and sound their capture. They had seen the jar as it swayed ever so slightly on the counter.
    Kinnard watched the metal lid as it barely hung to a lip of glass lining the hole of the bottle. The steel cover rocked and swung as if only held on by a string.
    Heavy Hefleiter’ and Higgins’s feet pounded on the wood. Their arms pushed against the counter as they dueled back and forth with words.
    Another step—just one more jolt!—and….
    As the lid slid free from the top of the glass, rang against the counter, and spun to the ground, ten-year old Troy Kinnard felt his hands fly to the mouth of the candy jar.
    The lid crashed like a cymbal into the planks at Troy’s feet. Both his hands locked onto the top of the jar. His eyes darted to the two older people who focused on him like circling hawks without motion.
    Kinnard figured he looked like a dog caught messing in the garbage. He couldn’t see his friend from his angle, but he froze motionlessly until Hefleiter spoke up.
    “Well now,” the old man said with his clogging voice, a light smile coloring his dry