Lost and Forgotten Ch. 03

"Digger! He is a fine young man. He sings to them you know, the dead. For a guy without any musical training he has an amazing voice." Warlock paused and sipped his drink. "I caught up with him one night. He was singing as he shoveled the earth onto a coffin. I like to think it soothes them and makes their passage easier."

"Oh look," Jynx cooed as she held up what appeared to be an irregularly shaped piece of obsidian. "It has the same design as your lighter John."

"What?" I said and headed over instantly. "Let me see that please." I asked, and she handed it over. "It is surprisingly light. The design is the same. How much do you want for this?"

"I believe I can let that go for a C note. Do they still say that?" Warlock giggled. "It is friends pricing."

"I'll take it." I said.

Warlock found a box that fit the object. It was my reward I was saving for later. I checked my watch and it was only nine o'clock. The satellite pass was another five hours off. I wanted concrete proof that the lake existed and that someone was up to no good. We left Warlock's but not before Jynx gave him a peck on the cheek. The rest of the morning was spent listening to live music, snacking on food prepared by various venders, and sipping coffee while listening to fans hooking up and sharing stories.

"There he is!" A cute girl cried and rushed to our table. "Mr. Morgenstern... Sir... can I join you?"

"Sure," Jynx said patting the seat next to her. "What's your name sweetie?"

"Ginger. I am the President of the West Coast Missouri Smith Fan Club. Can I interview you for my Vlog?" She asked smiling brilliantly.

"Why? What I mean is, why me?" I asked.

"The letter of course. News of it is all over the festival." She continued extending her hand and letting her fingers brush mine.

"Oh, come on John let her have her way with you." Jynx said with a mischievous grin.

"Fine, jot down the questions you want to ask, and I'll look them over."

Ginger snagged a paper napkin and fished out a pen. She brainstormed and scribbled down several questions. It was obvious she had spoken to Dworkin, but he kept his promise and only confirmed that I had indeed received a letter from a dead man. The other questions were more about my thoughts about Missouri and his exploits. Jynx suggested that Ginger sit next to me so that both of us could be captured by her phone. Ginger was surprisingly professional, and the interview was painless. I did notice the subtle flush in her cheeks and the way she scooted closer during the recording. When it all said and done she stole a kiss and fled before I could chastise her.

"You have a fan." Jynx snickered. "God bless hormones."

"That could have gone worse. She stuck to the questions and that surprised me. I wonder how many hits that interview will garner her."

"Who knows. You cleared up a lot of mysteries for her and her fans. I don't know if you realized that." Jynx explained. "I've read quite a few books about Smith since we hooked up. Most authors theorize about some of his exploits. You spoke about them as if it were gospel. Once she watches it and edits the footage she'll see it too if she's any good. I'd expect a follow up visit from the lovely Ginger. I wonder if she swallows."

"You are wicked." I said imaging Ginger kneeling below the table here and sucking me off.

"I'm not the one smiling like that. Are you thinking of her blowing you in here?" She asked, and I nodded. "Good. I'd think less of you if you hadn't."

"Let's get out of here."

We mingled with the fans outside and that is when we learned there was going to be a panel held at our hotel at noon. They were calling it the Opening Ceremony. It was the unofficial official beginning of the festival. I called Simone and she told me that three seats had been set aside for us. I thanked her and told Jynx that we had reserved seats to the talk. It was time to return to the hotel and wake mom up. I wanted her fresh and awake for the afternoon. We returned to the hotel and ran into Dworkin in the lobby. He was shaking hands with fans and informing them that next years lighter models would be even more historically accurate.

"I have something to show you. I have a friend upstairs that I need to wake up. I'll be back down in a little while." I promised him, and he agreed to meet me at the Opening Ceremony.

"Morgenstern..." I heard mom's voice carry over the din of other speakers. "I know John."

"Too late," Jynx laughed. "She is unleashed."

"Aw hell."

We slipped into the crowded room. I wasn't shocked to see mom surrounded by eager men and women. She had a natural charm and spoke easily but warily. She saw us approaching and pointed us out to her audience. One of the older men approached me with hand outstretched.

"Thank you again," he said in greeting.

"Pardon?" I replied confused and then saw mom grinning. "What did she promise."

"She said you would be thrilled to speak on the panel." He replied, and I glared at mom.

"I look forward to it. What is the panel on I mean besides Smith of course." I asked so I could mentally prepare.

"I am sure everyone would be thrilled to hear anything you are willing to share about the letter you received. I want to speak for the others and thank you. It is historic for this sort of thing to occur."

I waded into the crowd, so I could hug my mother and thank her for volunteering me. Simone appeared and took me by the arm, so I could meet the other members of the panel. One of the panel I recognized on sight. I had no idea he was a Missouri Smith fan.

"Professor Dyer." I said and offered him my hand. "I read your book and followed the exploits of your team on your latest dig."

"You are too kind, thank you." He replied. "I'd like to see the letter you received and verify its authenticity."

"It is quite genuine I assure you." I replied and cursed mentally and rightly so.

"How can you be so sure? Unless of course you are in possession of some of his writings." The archaeologist said with a sly grin.

"I can't argue with your logic." I said and took out the lighter and let him look it over.

"Holy shit," the man quietly cursed. "It is his isn't it. It is gorgeous. Where?"

"I can't say," I said taking it back. "You teach at Miskatonic when not out in the field. Missouri had a professor perform a ritual while the design was carved into it. That design is called an Elder Sign."

"I've heard of it. Intriguing. It is believed to be a kind of holy symbol. It works on evil the way a cross is supposed to work on vampires in the movies. That is what I have heard." He said his eyes bright with wonder and inspiration. "Do you know who performed the ritual?"

"He referred to him as Atwater." I replied and saw the recognition in the other man's expression.

"I read all of Atwater's works. He was brilliant. You know a lot more than most people speculate at it seems."

"I suppose I do." I admitted. "I am not here to steal your thunder Professor. I had no idea when I came here that I'd be getting a letter from a dead man."

"Why did you come here if I might ask?"

"The Flying Scotsman," I said, and he nodded and smiled. "I am following in Smith's footsteps." I added and Jynx touched my arm. "Fine. If you don't mind I have photos that Missouri took with me. I used those to guide my way here."

"Unbelievable! Yes! Please!" He urged like a little kid on Christmas morning.

After another ten minutes we took our places at the table in front of the audience. The hotel had converted the dance floor into convention space. I found a hastily scrawled name card with my name on it. I was seated between the Professor and Dworkin. There was thunderous applause when Dworkin stood and addressed the crowd.

"You all know me. I've been coming here for years." He said and paused at a sudden upswell of applause. "Thank you for coming to this year's Missouri Smith Festival. Normally these things are well scripted and predictable, but not this year. As some of you might have heard something amazing has happened. This is as Professor Dyer declared a short while ago a historic moment. The man next to me received a letter from Missouri Smith. I'd like to introduce to you all John Morgenstern. Stand up John and take a bow."

The applause drowned out Dworkin and I was forced to stand. Mom and Jynx were in the front row along with Simone and other selected individuals. I waved to the crowd and they ate it up. I returned to my seat and Dworkin continued. He introduced the rest of the panel and then without any warning he handed it off to me.

"Thank you, Dworkin." I said taking the microphone from him. "You are all too kind. I came here to follow in Missouri's footsteps. I wanted to research the fate of the Flying Scotsman. Yesterday I was approached by the representative of a law firm that held in keeping a letter from Smith. The letter is in my room..." I stopped when mom stood up and walked up to the table. She handed me the letter and returned to her seat. "...right here." I added holding it up for all to see. They roared in laughter and another round of applause ensued. "I am going to hand this over to Professor Dyer. He is familiar with Missouri's handwriting. I hope to get a quick and dirty assessment of it. While he looks it over I will describe to you the photos taken by Smith that inspired this journey." I said, and an undercurrent of excitement passed through the crowd. Jynx stood and handed me the two envelopes marked Arkham and Dunwich. "I swear I didn't plan this."

"We did." Jynx said and the crowd laughed.

"Okay folks, here are visual aids. I wish I could show you... what? There is. Hold on guys. Apparently, there is a smart board behind me. Let me use my cell phone and I'll send them to the smart board. I think I can walk and chew gum at the same time." I said as I dumped out the first envelope and snapped pictures of the photographs. "Missouri wasn't just a great adventurer but a wonderful photographer as well. He had an eye for framing scenic shots and telling a story with them. These first images are from the port city of Arkham. For those of you that haven't been there it is home to the college of Miskatonic University, Arkham Asylum, and of course the sixth largest sea port on the Eastern Seaboard. How are you doing on the letter professor?"

"I believe it is genuine. If it is a forgery it is the best one I've ever seen. The contents are quite startling, but I leave that to you to reveal or not." He said as I handed him the microphone. "As you may know Missouri was a one-time student of Miskatonic. After his death friends that he corresponded with donated letters to the college for safe keeping. There is a wing of the library named after him and the letters can be viewed there under ultraviolet glass. It is quite clear to me that this letter is quite genuine."

"Done!" I called out. "Okay... creating a folder for them. Locating smart board... got it. Here we go."

The blank white board behind me now displayed the first of twenty photos Smith had taken of Arkham. I described them and pointed out difference between modern Arkham and the images behind me. I finished the last photo and the crowd went wild. I handed the microphone to Dworkin and let him introduce one of the other panelists. I didn't want to hog the entire hour. The woman on the end talked about her new book and her research detailing one of Smith's lesser known adventures. She declared it was his very first outing as an adventurer. I knew better but kept my mouth shut. Dyer caught my expression when she began speaking and raised an eyebrow. I shook my head as I took photos of the Dunwich pics. The creepy black and white images inspired a shudder when I saw the old church that still housed the Esoteric Order of Dagon. I was handed the microphone again and I looked at the other panelists. They were as eager as the audience to see the next set of pictures.

"Fine." I said as I stood again. "The next series covers the town of Haunted Dunwich." I paused as murmurs passed through the crowd. "I passed through Dunwich to get here. I took a room at the Black Pharaoh Inn. I left before dawn. I don't want to say any disparaging things about the town or its citizens but I'm glad I didn't stay." I said with a shiver and then went through the images and halted at the photo of the church. "It left me with an uneasy feeling. There are no other churches in Dunwich. Just the Esoteric Order of Dagon, the others are long gone." I finished those photos and sat. There was a definite sense of disappointment in the crowd. "What?" I asked, and Simone stood up and answered me.

"They want to hear about the letter."

"Yeah!" Many of the audience cried out.

"What about the..." I began but saw they were equally curious. "Jeez. Fine!" I complied, and the entire place erupted into a roar of delight. I waited for them to settle down. "Missouri didn't come here to check on the Flying Scotsman or even the old cemetery. He came her to find the Last Miskatonic. He believed that by coming to Nightshade he would discover the very last shaman and survivor of the Miskatonic Indians. As you may or may not know that tribe was hunted to extinction." I stated feeling like I was back in the classroom. "If we accept Missouri's letter as truth then he did indeed find the last living member of the tribe and a shaman at that. The letter goes on and Missouri goes through a ritual known as a vision quest." I paused and let them absorb that. "It is a deeply personal experience. In that vision he saw me. I don't know why but that was at the heart of the letter. He did leave a rather cryptic warning. Stay in the light. That part is up to interpretation."

I sat down and handed the microphone back to Dworkin. My part was done, and the other panelists made their presentations. I was eager to hear them, and it took some of the heat off me. The panel lasted another forty-five minutes before the question and answer phase occurred. I shouldn't have been surprised when most of the questions were directed at me. As I stood and answered one question after another Dworkin wrote a note and slid it in front of me.

'Tomorrow. 8 PM. Dinner to raise money for library?'

"Um... it appears that there is a dinner tomorrow night to raise money for the Nightshade library. I have been invited to attend." I said making a face. "I am all for helping out the town..."

"Who would like to attend that dinner?" Dworkin asked as he took the mike from me.

"Where is this little soiree being held?" I asked.

"Mr. Wallenstein offered up his home for the event." Dworkin said, and I felt sick to my stomach.

"It is going to be top notch." The old man said getting to his feet. "And worth every penny."

"I um..." I stammered and looked at my mom for guidance.

"Sadly," Mom said as she and Jynx stood up as well. "John is otherwise occupied. I hope you understand."

"Two!" Wallenstein exclaimed and laughed. "Damn boy, all you had to do was say you and these fine ladies had plans. I am sure we can work something out another time."

"I am sure we can." I said smiling. "I... what?"

"Behind you!" Someone in the crowd shouted.

"What is going on?" I asked when the smart board sprung to life again. "Who is doing that?"

"Not me." Dworkin declared as did the others.

'This is a message from GunDancer.' The bright blue letters stated. 'I have a message for the people of Nightshade. Augustus Wallenstein is a crook as is Sheriff Benjamin Warren. Here are the bank records showing bribes paid to Warren and others. It is time the citizens of the town knew the truth.'

The message faded after ten seconds and the bank statements were displayed. The highlighted portions showed withdrawals from Wallenstein's account and a deposit for the exact amount into Warren's. There were dozens of them. The place erupted into chaos. Damn it Jacen! I grabbed mom and Jynx and led them outside. I didn't want to be anywhere near what could easily turn into a mob. I had weeks ahead of me and he goes off and does this. My watch beeped, and I realized the satellite was passing overhead as we stood out on the street. I needed a beer.

"Let's get a drink."

Mom grabbed one arm while Jynx grabbed the other. It is amazing how fast news gets around small towns. By the time we reached the bar they had already heard about Warren and Wallenstein. There was a large table reserved for me and I looked at the bartender and he pointed to the TV screen on the far wall. It was a live feed from the hotel. Every patron in the bar had heard and seen everything that had transpired. The owner had ordered the best table in the place set aside for me and the other panelists. Soon the rest of the speakers arrived and filled up the spots around the table. We ordered pitchers of beer and began to talk about the panel and the hacker calling themselves GunDancer.

"You did well for your first panel." Janine Attenborough stated with a smile. "I shook like a leaf at my first one."

"I am a teacher by profession." I explained and that was followed by 'ahs' all the way around. "I hope I didn't step on any toes."

"Hell no," Dyer said, and the others agreed. "You were great, and you were kind enough to share that letter. Can I see it again?" I took it out and handed it to him. He took the front page and held it up against the lights hanging above the table. "Yep. There it is. There is a watermark. Here... look."

"I'll be damned. I never thought to look for that." I admitted. "Holy shit! The entire page is written in the code. Crap." I said and fell silent.

"Give." Mom said laughing. "Share with the class."

"Well." I said and let out a nervous breath. "I have three diaries, several field journals, and other items as well." I felt sick uttering those words. "One of the diaries is his last one. It holds his last entries before he died. There are coded entries in the diaries as well as the field notes. I finally cracked the code a little while back."

"Whoa." Dworkin whispered. "What does this one say?"

I held up the sheets and decoded them. The message was chilling and involved the mysterious deaths that had occurred half a century before Missouri's time. Of course, he had solved it. By the time I reached the last sheet I questioned the author's sanity. If I told them all of it, they'd think Smith was crazy. I lied through my teeth.

"His grammar isn't great here. The words run together, and it is a little confusing." I said and they all held on every word that came out of my mouth. "He solved the killings that occurred during the time the tunnel was being dug."

"Naturally." Dworkin said proudly. "He was Missouri fucking Smith."

"So how was it done?" Dyer asked.

"He doesn't name the killer, but he does say that he was a fur trapper." I began reaching for an occupation off the top of my head and trying to remain as vague as I could. "He trained dog wolf hybrids to hunt and kill. Something had happened to turn the trapper against the town. He raised these dogs and to heighten the fear in the town he slipped them loose only during the dark of the moon." I continued as I split my attention between the letter and my audience. They hung on every word that came out of my mouth. "The half-starved animals tore their victims apart and disappeared when they were called back." I continued the lie I was spinning. "He was found out, chased to the old cemetery, and fell to his death when he was cornered. Don't quote me. My translation could be way off."

"That would make a great movie," Laura Mattingly exclaimed. "I am between writing projects right now. Maybe I'll work on a screenplay."

"You say you found his last diary." Dyer said. "Where did he die? Do you know?"

"I do. I can't say anything. I made a promise to the family. I hope you'll respect their wishes." I explained as Dworkin filled our glasses and we made a toast to Missouri.