Lost and Forgotten Ch. 02

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John and Jynx take to the road for the town of Nightshade.
21k words
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Part 2 of the 4 part series

Updated 06/09/2023
Created 06/06/2018
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Lost Boy
Lost Boy
5,759 Followers

All characters are 18 years of age or older. The first school year is over and summer vacation awaits. It is time to explore the legend behind a mysterious steam engine. He is off on his own adventure following in the footsteps of Missouri Smith. Please vote, comment, and if the spirit moves you offer up some suggestions. This is the first portion of this particular story. It was originally over 80 pages single space in Word. I chopped it in half. Next week I will post the second portion even as i work on the next installment. I hope you enjoy.

*****

I poured over every scrap of paper in the Hidden Room. I read Missouri Smith's diaries, field notes, and I had been struggling over deciphering three coded note books. There had to be a key somewhere. Where would he hide it? I sat in the hidden room with his last diary. I had read it a dozen times now. I knew every word by heart. This time however I enjoyed the beauty of his handwriting. It showed a strong confident hand and I stared at the page and for the first time I realized something vital I had missed up until now.

"I'll be damned. He's a lefty."

The slant was subtle compared to my own style which was far easier to detect. I examined how he formed his letters and guessed that he turned the diary to conceal his imperfection. At that time left handers were frowned upon and distrusted. The only thing that could have made him anymore outstanding is if he were a blue-eyed redhead. That would have been hitting the genetic lottery. I returned my attention to the diary. In the case of everything he wrote there was a notable patient beauty. I could see the delicate strokes of the fountain pen scratching the surface of the expensive paper. I knew his handwriting as well as my own. When I read his field notes it reminded me of the old-fashioned action thrillers like Flash Gordan and Buck Rogers. Two of the lines stuck in my head.

'A clever man makes the most of every inch of space. Her beauty is as eternal as her scarlet hair.'

The only redhead that I knew was Titania. Had Missouri encountered an equally enthralling woman in his life? I once thought he had rented this apartment so that he was close to the school, but I was having second thoughts. He owned a house in town. It was mere blocks distance from the academy. Why did he really move here and create a secret room and hide the stairwell to the roof? Could there be more hidden space on the third floor? I walked to the first floor and paced off the dimensions. I repeated it twice more for the second and third floor. I walked outside and made a circuit around the building. The third floor was as large as the other two. I had considered every inch of it or had I.

"Stupid!" I said and raced inside and up to the third floor.

I opened the hidden door that led to the roof. I squatted down and examined the steps. There had to be space underneath. There wasn't much but it could hold some juicy secrets. I was envisioning more journals or maps or even field notes. I found a single hole drilled into one of the steps. It was just big enough to slip an index finger in and pull which is what I did. The step was hinged and hidden below were several covered paintings. I pulled them out one at a time. I propped them up against the bookshelves and felt my pulse quicken in excitement. I went down the line and carefully pulled the sheets covering the artwork off one after the other. I dropped the dust covered cloths into a hamper. I stood back and looked at the subject of the various artists. They were all portraits and all of them were of the same woman. The second shock was who the artists were. I recognized some of them instantly.

"Impossible!" I whispered as I felt my knees nearly buckle from the implications.

I began googling art preservation and after that storage facilities that had climate control. I found one in town and checked my watch. I would have to call them first thing in the morning. I placed the portraits in the hidden room and closed it up. I went over to the steps where I had retrieved the paintings. I was about to close it up when I spotted something in the corner. I leaned forward and felt around. The dark cloth obfuscated the small object hidden beneath it. I grabbed the material and whatever it was hiding. I stood and turned my hand over. The cloth fell away revealing a hand carved cryptex. The wooden and brass cylinder had seven wheels along the exterior. The wheels each had twenty letters in different sequences and the possible number of combinations was staggering.

"It is drinking time." I muttered as I closed the hidden step and shut the hidden door to the roof.

I grabbed a bottle of whiskey and poured myself a few drinks. I took out a notepad and copied down each wheel and tried to assemble seven letter words. I feared that selecting a wrong word would be disastrous. I was half way through the bottle of whiskey when I took a break. I had to speak with Titania and tell her what I found. I stood and felt a rush of giddiness as all that alcohol ran from my feet to my head. I grabbed the cryptex and carried it and the whiskey with me. I staggered across the rear of the campus until I reached the redhead's apartment. Like me she lived on the school grounds but on the opposite side. I knocked on her door and saw the light come on. She opened the door and smiled.

"John?" She laughed. "Drinking on a school night, you are better than that." Titania continued. "Oh my god, you found it. You found his code thingy."

"Cryptex. It is called a cryptex. But I don't know the seven-letter word to safely open it." I said, and she grinned and raised an eyebrow. "You knew him." I said, and she nodded. "Those paintings are of you."

"I'll be damned. You found them." She purred. "After all these years, you found my property."

"I'm taking them to a climate-controlled storage area." I declared. "It is a miracle they are still in good condition. Some of them are really fucking old."

"John... John..." Titania said trying to get my attention.

"Picasso. Matisse. Van Gogh. Da Vinci! Fucking Leonardo Da Vinci!"

"Calm yourself John," she said her voice a blend of amusement and frustration.

"I just wish I could figure this out." I said holding up the cryptex. She snatched it out of my hand and began moving the wheels. "Hey! Hold on Red..." I called out until she entered the seventh letter and the side of the device popped open. She handed it back to me and I looked at the word she had selected. "I'm an idiot. Thanks. I'll drop off your key to the storage place tomorrow."

"You're a sweetie. I'll cover your classes tomorrow. Tell me what you find out." Titania said and kissed my cheek. "Nite John."

"Good Night."

I chuckled as I looked at the cryptex again. The word was so obvious once she showed it to me. It was something near and dear to his heart, her name. Titania.

Mordenkainen's Sanction:

Sparks were flying everywhere. The machines whined and screamed in protestation as massive currents of electricity arced through the air and I ducked and weaved through the laboratory as maniacal laugher rose above the cacophony of the storm and equipment driven by its blinding power. I half expected to hear the voice scream, It's Alive, but it didn't. I tracked the figure in the white lab coat to another chamber. This one was sleek, new, and cutting edge.

"Good. You're here." The man said as he turned around. "I have a few things for you."

"Me. Why are you helping me?"

"I'm not. I am helping me. This is a test of whether I can implement genetic memory into a human. Repeat after me. Whiskey."

"Whiskey."

"Romeo."

"Romeo."

"Echo."

"Echo."

"Mirage."

"Mirage."

I struggled as a cascade of images, sounds, smells, and sensations bombarded me. I was overwhelmed within seconds. As quickly as they had manifested they were gone. The man in the white coat seemed surprised.

"I can't believe that worked." He muttered. "Now I want to show you my gadgets for your mission. Come on in." He said, and an elderly man slowly staggered into the laboratory. "Watch this." He said as he tossed an explosive pellet that created a cloud of pink smoke that surrounded and obscured the old man. "Tada!" The scientist declared as the smoke faded and in the old man's place a sexy blonde wearing a tight black t-shirt and biker shorts. "I call it sexy smoke. Next up is this." He said brandishing a small spray bottle.

"What's in it?" I asked, and he laughed maniacally.

"Watch!" He said as he sprayed the girl in the face.

"Hey!" She protested for a second before the drug took effect. "Damn, my pussy is wet! I need a cock in the worst way."

"I call it Seductispray XXX. What do you think?"

"She's gone." I giggled. "I guess she's off looking for cock."

"Damn it, I forgot to give her a command before she left. Oh well. That is all I have for now. Wake up. Wake UP! WAKE UP!"

I was being shaken and I opened my eyes. I was looking up into Dee's face. She was smiling but then she checked her watch. The frown was accompanied by the tapping of her foot. It was the last day of school and I wasn't going to be late. Naked I raced to the bathroom and began my morning routine. She watched me shower and asked what I was doing for my first summer vacation.

"Treasure hunting." I said as I washed my hair.

"What kind of treasure?" Dee asked biting her lower lip lewdly.

"A lost train," I replied. "You are staring."

"I like what I see. Soon, I won't be your student. Soon, you and I have unfinished business." Dee purred.

"We have unfinished business selfish bitch." Tera giggled as she stepped into the room.

"Yeah, he owes the three of us a good old-fashioned pounding." Jennifer added.

"My apologies ladies," I said as I rinsed my hair. "I plan on keeping my promise."

"What is this about a train?" Jennifer asked picking up a dry towel for me. "Are we talking miniature train or a full-sized people train."

"It is a full-sized steam engine, the Flying Scotsman." I replied as I took the towel from her. "It was buried in a supposed accident. They had cut a tunnel through a mountain and as the train was in the middle the tunnel collapsed."

"Shit!" Dee cursed. "What a fucked-up way to die."

"Were they crushed, or did they suffocate?" Tera asked.

"The official record says they were crushed. I have sources that say they suffocated and that the tunnel was sealed on purpose. I want to find out one way or another."

I dried off, brushed my teeth, and got dressed. The girls left via the fire escape while I fixed a pot of coffee and arrived at school ten minutes later. There were already rumors about me and the principal. The fact that they were true didn't matter. I couldn't afford a scandal so early on in my career. I met with the other instructors in the teacher's lounge. I sat down and we all shared our plans for summer. Sharisa Duvall, our in-house linguist and language teacher, was taking another backpacking tour of Europe. Indira Mithras, who taught biology and chemistry, told us that she was visiting family on the west coast. Helen Webb, the school librarian, approached me and handed me a package that had come for me late yesterday. I was going to open it later, but everyone stared at me, so I caved and pulled the cardboard tab on the back of the package. I tipped the narrow bundle and tugged on an interior backing that held the contents safe and snug. There were two clear pieces of what appeared to be acrylic. The larger one was seventeen inches across, twelve inches wide, and an inch thick. The smaller one was ten inches high, four inches across, and an inch thick.

"What the hell are they?" Someone asked.

"They are light, but I don't think they are made of plastic or glass. Ah, there is a note." I said and read the typed instructions. "This ought to do it." I said following the instructions and touching the center of the larger object. "Whoa." The clear surface came to life and the tablet computer booted up.

"I've never seen anything like that." Sharisa said as the desktop appeared. "What operating system is that?"

"No idea." I admitted as I took out my phone and placed it next to the smaller of the transparent devices. "It says to touch here." The smaller machine copied the contents of my phone and came online. "It even has my background pic. How cool is that."

The bell rang, and I carried the tablet computer under my arm as I slid each phone into a back pocket. This was the first of only four classes I had today. School would be letting out at noon. This was our chance to say goodbye to seniors and congratulate the other students for a job well done. In my case I would meet with Freshman first and Seniors last. Not all the teachers were so lucky. I felt a sense of sorrow for the girls I would no longer see, but also a upswell of hope for the bright futures ahead of them. I strode into the classroom and looked at all those happy faces.

"Good Morning Mr. Morgenstern!" They all greeted me.

"Morning class," I replied. "Whose idea was that?" I asked and the all pointed at one student. "Great job. I have spent the last week working on my farewell speech for my formidable freshmen. As you know all of you passed, but not only that you ranked at the top percentile of high school freshmen in the country. You should all be quite proud of yourselves." The roar of applause was impressive. "I want to thank you for the chance to instruct and open your minds this year. I look forward to seeing your faces next year and you better not disappoint me. Now, since this is your last day what do you want to talk about?"

"Summer vacation." A girl called out.

"Alright, who wants to go first?" I asked and they all looked expectantly at me. "Fine. But when I start to bore you I want you to interrupt me. Agreed?"

"Yes Mr. Morgenstern!" They cried out.

I pulled out my phone, but it was dead, so I took out the new transparent one. I found one of the few confirmed photographs of the Flying Scotsman. I dragged it to the smart board and began.

"This is the Flying Scotsman. It was brought over from Scotland, surprise to no one. It arrived via the port of Arkham and toured the country for over a year. Why would a steam engine be worthy of so much fuss? It possessed a prototype engine. The engineer that designed and built this mysterious engine was Ian McClintock. I could go over his education and multiple degrees but that would just bore you. Let's just say he was scary smart. It crossed the continent twice, almost. The Scotsman was on its way back to the east coast when tragedy struck. A tunnel had just been completed and inspected. I want you to take that into account when you realize that a diplomatic mission like the Flying Scotsman was redirected to this brand-new tunnel. The train was destroyed, and its passengers killed when the tunnel collapsed. I am going to see if I can find and retrieve artifacts off the train. I don't plan on grave robbing but finding out what was so 'unique' about the Scotsman's revolutionary engine."

I answered questions and they even got me speculating on what might have made the engine so special. I tossed out several theories but, in the end, I wouldn't know for sure until I saw the engine. Of course, if the entire tunnel was collapsed getting to the engine might be impossible. The bell rang, and I was torn from my reverie. The class laughed as they got to their feet and left. The next two classes played out the same and I was the only one talking about my plans. When the seniors filed in they were already familiar with the train and even knew its name.

"I Googled the Flying Scotsman." Jennifer offered up. "Did you know there are several websites dedicated to it. The sites talk about the train and the killings."

"Killings, what killings?" I asked.

"The small farming community that housed the diggers and engineers that dug the tunnel." Dee added. "What was it called?"

"Nightshade Massachusetts..." Tera said. "...named after the abundant plant as well as the cemetery they found when the town was founded."

"Hold on," I said feeling a chill. "How the heck can there be a cemetery if they were the first Europeans?"

"Sounds like a real mystery Mr. Morgenstern." Sasha Ogilvy said in a quavering voice. "What do you really think?"

"It could be a Native American burial site. The settlers might have called it a cemetery. I won't know until I get there. If the tunnel is a bust I can delve into the cemetery, two for one."

Conversation shifted to the inevitable. This was a time to say goodbye. The terrible trio were going their separate ways after four years of being as thick as thieves. It was devastating or, so I thought. Jennifer and Dee had both been accepted into Julliard. Tera had applied and been accepted to Syracuse University. I needn't Google it. They had worked it out to a four-and-a-half-hour drive. There was a small town in the middle where they could meet and hang out. They had it all planned out. I wondered how long it would last.

"When do you leave?" Sasha asked me her voice barely hiding her distress.

"Well, if things pan out I'll be there sometime next week." I said just before the very last bell rang for the school year. I gestured for Sasha to remain behind. Soon it was just the two of us. I approached her seat and caught the stench of fear wafting from her. "What is going on?"

"He's out there." She stammered softly. "He is waiting for me."

"Is he the one that gave you those bruises?" I asked, and her hand went to right eye. "Do I have your permission to put the fear of god into him?"

"Yes. Please." She said a flood of relief engulfing her. She described him to me and I would have no problem finding him.

"Go to the teacher's lounge and if anyone asks tell them I told you to stay so that you are safe."

She ran off as I headed for the back door and circled around behind him. Titania stood just outside the classroom. She gave me a cautious glance as she took out her phone and dialed 911. It took me a few minutes to reach the other side of the street. He stood out in a crowd anywhere. His body language screamed anger and violence. I watched as he clenched and unclenched his fists. Speaking of his fists, his knuckles were bruised and scraped. The monster wore faded blue jeans, a matching denim jacket and well-worn tennis shoes. His hair was dark and shoulder length. I stalked behind him just as Titania had taught me to and placed my hand on his shoulder.

"Hello Princess."

"Shit dude!" He cursed and spun on me raising his fist instinctively.

"Relax Princess, you don't want to go back to prison." I said calmly "That would be your let me guess second... no your third strike."

"Quit calling me Princess!" He snarled. "What is taking her so long?"

"You are what twenty-three maybe twenty-four. I guess a rape charge would send you away for a real long time." I said pushing him into a corner. "You like beating on girls Princess. You not enough of a man to take on a real challenge. Did your daddy hit on you? No. I bet you were his little Princess if you know what I mean."

The primal scream was deafening. The police arrive just in time. The cruiser pulled up just as I saw stars. I hit the ground hard and barely had the good sense to bring my hands up between me and the guy wailing on me. The two cops were on him and placing him in handcuffs. I tried to sit up, but the dizzy spell kept me down. To add insult to injury Sasha was there holding me telling me she would take care of me. Her mother approached and spat on the brute in handcuffs and cursed him in Gaelic. I didn't think people spoke that anymore. Mother and daughter rode with me to the hospital in the ambulance. Sasha held up my new tablet computer and promised to keep it safe until I was released.

Lost Boy
Lost Boy
5,759 Followers