The Turtle

                I saw the worshipers kneeling on the altar of the church, in front of a stone statue of a turtle, praying. The worshipers were bald monks, members of the church. They were dressed in brown cloaks with plastic green shells upon their backs, attached to their broad shoulders with string. They raised their arms toward the heavens, their fat heads bent down, and they lowered their arms to the earth, chanting a hymn in honor of the turtle.
         The statue of the turtle, which was formed into the shape of a cross, was made of shiny black marble. I walked through the stone pathway, past a fountain, toward the worshippers and the turtle.
         “Why do you four worship a marble idol, in blasphemy of the Lord?” I asked.
         One of them ceased chanting, and looked at me. “We do this in honor of the Lord.”
         I looked surprisingly at him. “The Lord condemns those who worship idols,” I said. “It is one of His commandments.”
         “One must look past his ignorance,” replied the monk. “The Turtle shelters life and glory into those who honor him.”
         “I do not follow, I’m afraid.”
         The wind picked up as brushed the branches of the evergreen trees.
         “The Turtle showed us a sign from the Lord,” said the monk.
         “How so?” I asked, sarcastically.
         “He showed us the Fountain of Youth and the Garden of Eden!” he said.
         “By Holy Jehovah Himself!” I gasped, grabbing chunks of my hair. “That statue showed you the exact locations of the Fountain of Youth, sought after by Ponce de Léon, and the Garden of Eden, where the Lord created Adam and Eve?”
         “Yes,” replied the monk.
         “That statue?” I considered.
         “That statue,” insisted the monk.
         “How can a statue show these mysteries of the Lord?”
         “One must believe if one must seek answers,” he told me.
         For one final attempt to gain answers, I asked “Where are they? Where did the Turtle say they were?”
         “Over the Mountains of the Moon, down in the Valley of Shadow,” he said. “You must travel far and wide to search for these things.”
         I decided to take the wise monk's advice. I enrolled in the local space program and became an astronaut. I went to the Moon. When I returned, I devoted my life to traveleing throughout the earth in search of the religious icons. I hardly ate, my sleep was deprived by insomnia. I spent my life's earnings on plane tickets and travel. I neglected my family. I was nearing death minute-by-minute.
              I returned to the church one day. I saw a different monk this time. The statute of the turtle was still there, shiny as ever. I combed my gray hair with my fingers, and I approached the monk.
              "You were right," I said. "Eden and the holy Fountain are nowhere to be found -- neither on earth nor on the moon."
              "Because the sacred icons are with El Dorado!" the monk replied.