by Caleb Smith
Chapter 21
When a story is lost – when a tablet cries for its proper placement among the ranks of history – or when an evil past escapes its covers, the twins become restless in their search to tame the wild past. While working in the physical world, the twins leave their chief helpers and legions of power angels behind to watch the Hall of Records. It is the twins’ job to find the misplaced energies and place them back into the proper tablet for filing. It’s important for them to keep the past away from the present, as a collision of the two could negatively impact the future.
On their current quest in the physical world, the twins were seeking a story that had strayed far from its creation, like a tired balloon, floating aimlessly, it’s rubbery skin rendered coarse from having traveled through so much friction. Yet the evil within the covers of this story was unspeakable – a direct link to the underworld, the devil, and his minions. Evil’s corrupt agenda is to offset good. Man has free will – the freedom to choose between good and bad. But the devil cheats, sending his minions to the surface to influence man and turn him against good. This lost story tells of a mighty angel who had been sent to earth to stop vicious attacks against humanity. It is his mission to put an end to the disturbances he finds. This angel’s story is very important to protect because he has become a primary target for the dark army. Enoch and Elijah were not the only ones looking for his past dealing in trying to protect a family from which a woman dies by the hands of hell. Her bound story was an open market, and that’s why they had to hurry. The evil hounds were on the loose, getting closer, creatures of the dark that were endlessly searching for the tablet that recounts their defeat.
Yet, their rank smell stiffens the angelic nostril, and the twins are able to discern their adversaries’ general whereabouts.
“The greater the smell, the closer they crawl,” gasped Enoch to his twin, “We must pick up our pace if we are to find this piece before the wrong hands do.”
“We have looked just about everywhere in this gray city!” Elijah answered.
With poor air quality and run-down housing, the town seemed doomed. It had been built around a couple of saw mills and a handful of defunct factories that had employed half of the town’s population. It was astonishing that Mid-Town could hide anything other than the broken pasts of downtrodden spirits struggling to survive. But, amidst all the rubble and gloom, a single, shining light prevailed. Noah was this ray of hope, and he motivated them to keep searching for their lost treasure.
“Do you think it was meant to be, brother? Finding the boy in such a manner?”
Enoch replied, “You mean at our back door? I find it hard to believe that it’s anything other than what was meant to be.”
“Yes. I feel the same, and watching him progress has been most breathtaking. It restores my confidence.”
“We have found a few like him in the sands of time, but not in such a place or time as this. The boy seems to have extraordinary vision and needs no direct help finding it. Once his whole heart believes in what he can see, then his true journey begins.”
“We are approaching dark times. Humans like Noah are few and far between. The parasite has done its job well.”
The twins found themselves drifting through random graveyards on the outskirts of town, a fair place to search for a story tablet lost in time, the stench of decomposed bodies emptied of life engulfing them like a great wicker picnic basket. But alas, the final resting place for so many had brought no luck in housing a live story on the lamb. The twins would have been able to spot the find, like a glowing diamond, in the dark grass. It was not here.
“It’s hidden; I know it is. It’s hidden among the general population where one would least expect it. It has to be if evil is also lurking in the hunt,” Elijah said.
“It could be anywhere,” Enoch replied.
Chapter 22
The time spent working with Wendy at the Sherman farm proved to be valuable. Noah learned pretty quickly that he was not as mechanically gifted as Wendy. It’s not that she was smarter than him by any means, but building and fixing things were her great passion. Noah’s was learning, and though he realized that whatever he was involved in at the book shop would constitute a mere phase in his life, he believed the lessons he had learned so far were manna from heaven. When he was hungry, he would eat and be filled. The last couple of weeks, he had not eaten. Instead, he had spent most of his time working with Wendy.
Noah and Wendy had installed the small engine on his bicycle in their spare time. Although he kept his pedals, the engine that spun the back tire controlled by the push button throttle on the front handlebar now did all the hard work. No more pumping his legs to pedal fast, he could now go twenty-five miles per hour with the push of a button. They had also reinforced the brakes, and Wendy had attached a small, metal plate below his handlebars on which she mounted an old milk crate. He used the crate for toting an extra bottle of gas and for carrying books.
He had not yet shared his secrets with Wendy, or anyone for that matter, believing she would not understand and possibly think less of him – maybe even think he was crazy. Yet, the knowledge he had gained from those secret lessons would not let him rest. A thirst became overpowering. He was ready for a new lesson to guide him in finding true happiness. It was all he could think about after growing dormant in the last two weeks. The great unknown was his ultimate machine, and he was ready for another ride.
He left Wendy’s early that day. It was a Wednesday, and school had let out two weeks earlier. He had been working six hours a day at the Sherman place, though oftentimes Noah and Wendy would finish work by three o’clock, allowing them time to tinker with other things. They referred to this extra time as “playtime.” Earl was good about compensating them for the extra hours, as long as it was helping the family business with relevant projects. Any personal projects that they worked on, like Noah’s bike or Wendy’s race car, was on their own time and dime.
Today, Noah wanted to leave at three. He told Wendy that his mother was getting out of work early and driving home to pick him up so they could go grocery shopping together. He then went into this long rant about the types of things his mother buys at the grocery store and how they don’t suit his needs, which is why he really needed to go to be sure his mother would buy the right stuff. He rambled on about it until Wendy was sick of rolling her eyes and had had enough.
“All right; OK, already! Go. Go grocery shopping; I don’t want to hear it. I’ll catch you tomorrow,” she said with a cheek full of grape Big League Chew. She quickly went back to work, turning wrenches underneath the hood of her mini race car.
He took off – but not for home, and certainly not for the grocery store. His motorized bicycle brought him to his real destination and attracted a few onlookers along the way. Wearing a helmet now was a must, a condition imposed upon him by his mother, who had surprised him one afternoon with a bright blue one. She had seen the mechanical changes made to his bike and, while she was happy for him, she was worried, too. Knowing he had the bike helmet made her feel better.
There was one slot left on the bicycle rack in front of the public library. He locked his bike in, remembering that it was summer vacation and that there would be a lot more kids hanging out in town. He wasn’t interested in activities, though; he wanted more information on his secret friends. He wanted to know all there was to know about them before returning to the book shop. Noah wanted them to know that he knew their alter identities and that they could take him seriously and trust him with these secrets.
Starting up the granite stone steps to the library, Noah noticed a flickering light, sparkling high above. He stopped and looked up to identify what had caught his attention, and it wasn’t the domed copper roof. There was something at the base of it, where the pitched slate met the copper. He squinted at the object, nestled in a nook. It shimmered brilliantly, a bejeweled rectangle in the fading sun, and his creative mind instantly thought of lost treasures. Whatever it was
, it would be difficult to access.
The wheels were turning in his mind. How would I get up there? He wished he were in a book so he could just fly up and get it, but unfortunately, his imagination wasn’t helping his physical limitations. He raced inside the building instead, slowing his pace abruptly when passing the front desk. This would have to be a covert mission. He then ducked his head and gently walked to the staircase.
He didn’t even know how to access the third floor, but then again, he had never really looked. He first tried the top right wing, looking for doors and staircases leading up. There was nothing but rooms that he had seen before in his previous quest for information. He eased his way down the open corridor toward the left. Straight ahead was an elevator that he had never noticed. It was an old elevator, and though it had probably worked at one point, it was now defunct. It resembled a bird cage with a flat ceiling, its thin iron bars littered with cob webs. The front cage door was closed tightly and locked with a modern padlock. There was a paper sign pasted on the wall next to the elevator: “out of order.”
An employee came out of a door to the far right of the elevator and turned to lock it before realizing that Noah was standing there, seemingly bewildered.
“Can I help you, son? Are you lost?”
“What’s in there?” Noah asked. “The door you just came out of.”
“Oh, that goes up to the third floor where storage and archives are kept.” The graying man looked surprised that Noah had asked. “We don’t allow anybody up there though other than employees of the library.”
“Are you hiring?” Noah asked without hesitation.
The man chuckled, his bowtie catching half of his hanging chin. “I think we’re all set at this time. Plus, aren’t you supposed to be enjoying your summer vacation? You have the rest of your life to work. Why don’t you go have fun being a kid?”
“Well, sir, this is what I do for fun; I love to read. That’s why I come here a lot.”
“That’s a good thing, and all the books that I’m sure would suit your interests are this way. Let me show you.”
The man guided Noah back down the hall, away from the elevator and the door. Noah looked back at the doorknob, checking to make sure it was a hand lock.
“Here you go. There are plenty of young adult novels to choose from in this room.”
It was a space he had already explored. He knew what it had to offer.
“I got it; thank you, sir.”
“Well, if you need a hand finding any titles, let us know. We would be happy to help.”
“Sure, thing, sir.” Noah acted the part of an intrigued youngster looking for a good read.
“Oh, and one other thing. Stay away from the far end of the corridor; there is nothing for you down there.”
Noah looked at him, perplexed, but gave the man the answer he was looking for.
“Yes, sir. Sorry about that.”
The man left and Noah shook his head. How am I going to get up there now? It was just a matter of time before someone else would discover the object, glittering and gleaming high above. The door was locked, and he was not experienced in picking locks. However, he did remember the card trick that Wendy had once shown him. If you slid a thin plastic card in between the latch and the jam, it might bypass the lock and spring the door free. The problem was the door was in a visible area; he couldn’t hide while trying to gain entry. He would have to be watchful and quick about it. Reaching into his pocket he felt his thin, plastic library card, a card he never left home without. He pulled it out and ran his fingertips along its flexible, sharp edge. Perfect. In any other case, he might have been deterred from breaking open a locked door, but now the nagging pressure of wanting to retrieve whatever was on the roof goaded him.
He peeked out into the open corridor and saw no one. The day was winding down, so he had that on his side. He crept out of the room and hugged the inside wall, ducking under door windows as he slid past. He finally came back to the door that led upstairs. Noah grabbed the knob and wiggled it. It was locked, of course. He then took one more glance behind him before sliding the library card in the thin slot. It took a few moments to line the plastic up perfectly between the latch and the jam, but after wiggling it a few times, the door popped open! He looked down to his card that was now scratched and bent, but just then, another door sprung open down the naked corridor. Noah quickly slipped inside, gently closing himself in while latching the door to a resting, locked position.
He looked at the winding stair case above and, like a cat, he crept his way up to the top, silently. It was a big, open space lined with worn wooden shelving holding lost books and paper documents. Dust decorated the aisles and rows. The room was exposed to its bone. There was no welcoming hand at the top of the stair case, just an eyesore of forgotten words from times past. The floor boards were roughly cut, and the rafters looked to be as dry as tinder. This place would go up in a rapid flame.
“Hello?” A voice called from the far side of the room. “Richard, is that you?”
Noah scooted around looking for a place to hide. He took cover behind one of the many shelves, finding a slot in which he could peek through.
“Richard, are you here? I’m over here.” She repeated.
Noah stayed put. Finally, the woman came out to investigate; her fragrance was strong. She was an older woman who sported a perm, big glasses, and wool dress hemmed below the knees. She walked around looking down aisles.
Noah dared not move; the dry boards holding his feet would surely scream his whereabouts. But he had to do something because she was making her way toward him. He crouched down low, closed his eyes, and wished himself invisible. Whatever was outside that high window waited for him, and that was more important than what she was doing in that library attic.
He felt her presence as she got closer. Her perfume gave her position away. He buried his nose in the elbow of his long sleeve to keep from coughing or sneezing. Just as she was about to reach his aisle, he heard the lower door slam and footsteps coming up the stairs. Her high heels moved to the stop of the stairs.
“Oh, there you are, Richard. I thought I heard you up here. I was looking around frantically, growing worried.”
“Well, I’m back now.” It sounded like the same man who had walked Noah away from the elevator.
“What time is it, anyway?” The lady asked.
“It is ten minutes until closing time, my dear. I figured I would come up and let you know.”
“Oh. Thank you Richard. I guess I had completely lost track of time.”
“Were you able to get the rest filed away?”
“Most of it,” she said. “The rest are in boxes ready to go for next time. I did get quite a bit done.”
“That’s good. All in a day’s work, I suppose.”
“Now how about that dinner you promised me?” She asked in a more cunning tone.
“I had been just about to ask you if the time was right to enjoy such an evening.”
“Oh, Richard.” She was just tickled at the prospect of romance after all this time.
“Shall we go, then?” He held an arm out for escort.
“Thank you, Richard. And where would you like to go this evening?” Her voice trailed off as the two descended the staircase.
Noah heard a door slam and then there was silence. Finally, silence. But now he had a new dilemma. They were getting ready to close the library. Where would this leave him? If he couldn’t get home soon, his mother would have a nervous breakdown and call every law authority in a fifty-mile radius. If he were found here after closing, he would most likely be grounded for the rest of his youth.
Chapter 23
As soon as he felt it was safe, he sprung out of hiding and went for the large windows. They lined the front end of the attic, allowing golden rays of evening sunlight to fill the dark, open space. A late afternoon ray cutting through one of the old Victorian windows found Noah’s face as he quickly searched for a vantage point from which
he could get to the object. There was a half-floor above with a rustic wooden ladder leading to an access space. Above the old half floor was the domed shaped ceiling. He wanted to crawl up to check it out before deciding to open windows.
The ramshackle floor was even less supportive than the lower one. Some of the boards wobbled as he walked across them, and between them were cracks where he could see twenty feet to the bottom floor. He peered up and saw the sun poking through the half circle of windows ten feet above. He pulled an old, wooden ladder up. It was quite heavy. He dragged it to the far-left window in the circle of eight, closest to where the shining object might be. Making sure all was stable, he carefully climbed up to the top. There was no thought about the height or his safety; he just did it.
Noah glanced through the top dome window, wiping the dust with his free hand. Putting his face to the glass pane, he looked down. He saw the slate, angled roof below and the crease that connected the two roof pitches. He followed the crease down to the ledge with his gaze, and there it was, still gleaming in the sun. The object was square, and from this angle, it appeared to be a book. Its cover was majestic, made of gold or bronze, perhaps. To reach it, he would have to climb up from the window below. There was no way to open the window he was peering from; it had been glazed shut permanently.
How the hell was he going to do this without killing himself? Noah climbed down the ladder and moved it to its original resting place which, in turn, brought him back to the third floor. Once there, he shuffled to the window and looked out. People were leaving the library. He saw his bike, one of two that remained in the rack.
I can’t climb out this window. Everyone will see me, and then the cops will most likely show up. I also can’t wait because Mom will be home soon and will be mad if I’m not home for dinner. He turned 180 degrees and faced some old shelving in the aisles. Noah made his way to the far wall with just as many windows, except this side of the library faced a wooded area on a hill. Directly below this window was a fire escape.
