"Then let's not waste any more time. Show me the will. Where's the safe?" the chief says.

The shaman stands up and smiles mischievously.

"In the safest place in the world. No pyramid, no bank vault, not even Air Force One is safer than under my caboose."

He rolls back the old rug he was sitting on, revealing a floor safe.

"Presto chango!"

"Very smart, Shakiro. No one likes looking under someone else's butt."

"Ooh... I wouldn't set that in stone," the shaman says as he enters the safe's code.

The lock clicks open. He reaches inside, pulls out a stack of papyrus scrolls, unrolls them across the floor one by one, and hands one to the chief.

"But this is written in English!" the chief complains.

The shaman looks at him in surprise.

"So? Of course it's in English, Man Mountain. What were you expecting? Latin?"

"I don't know... maybe something more mysterious. Sanskrit, perhaps... or..."

"Yeah, right. You've seen too many movies, Man Mountain," he says, rolling the rug back into place and sitting down again. "Listen. Take all four and memorize them."

"By heart? That's quite a lot, Shakiro."

The shaman stares at him.

"Do you know any other way to memorize something besides by heart? Build a memory palace, use spaced repetition, copy them ten times, or whatever other nonsense you can come up with. I don't care. Just do it fast."

He pauses for a moment.

"Oh, and there's one more favor I'd like to ask you."

"What? Wait, don't tell me. You want me to get you more of those herbs you smoke that smell funny."

"No. I want to see the ocean before I'm gone."