The Bone Puzzle: The Saga Begins

by Clayton E. Spriggs

  THE BONE PUZZLE

  The Saga Begins

  A NOVEL BY

  CLAYTON E. SPRIGGS

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, events, and situations in this book are purely fictitious. Any similarity to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2017 Clayton E. Spriggs

  All Rights Reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the express written permission of the publisher.

  Published by

  Penn Mill Publishing.

  Slidell, Louisiana

  www.pennmillpub.com

  Contents

  Title

  Prologue

  Part One: Hocus Pocus

  Part Two: Hallelujah

  Part Three: The Holy Relic

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  PROLOGUE

  “Push it through the mouth like this and twist it a bit ‘til it comes out his gut,” Lucius explained as he demonstrated his well-practiced technique. “But not too much, or he’ll split in half and fall right off.”

  The old man watched as his great-grandson attempted to bait the hook. He tried not to laugh as the slippery minnow fell apart in the boy’s tiny fingers.

  “That’s okay. You’ll have plenty of time to learn how. Here,” he said, handing his cane pole to the child, “take mine. It’s ready to go. I’ll get yours fixed up in a jiffy.”

  The boy smiled and dropped the line into the murky water. He held onto his great-grandfather’s heavy pole with both hands. Lucius baited the boy’s hook in no time, and they exchanged fishing poles, much to the relief of the child. His pole was considerably smaller and easier to manage, plus it was painted sky blue. His great-grandfather’s pole was scarred and worn, having seen years of service by the avid fisherman.

  “Do you want to know Paw Paw’s secret to catching the really big cats?” Lucius whispered to the boy. “You gotta find a quiet spot near the reeds and go deep. Them catfish can’t resist a tasty morsel, and they’ll practically jump right into the frying pan.”

  Lucius smiled and patted Clifton’s head. He loved the boy and wished that he had more years in front of him to watch the youngster grow up. He’d fathered six children—all of them girls. Two had died as infants; another succumbed to scarlet fever when she was eight. Of the three who had survived, only one lived long enough to bear children. Ophelia had made up for the family’s lack of offspring with a vengeance, producing eleven children and twenty-seven grandchildren.

  By the time Clifton Brewer made it into the world, it seemed to Lucius Jones that half the county must be related to him in some manner or form. Well, half of the colored people in the county, anyway.

  His light skinned n neighbors didn’t much care for his kind and let him know it at every opportunity. Lucius’ parents had been born slaves, and they felt the same way about the white folk.

  Lucius didn’t pay it no mind; he didn’t have a mean bone in his body. Preacher man told him that you had to ‘forgive others lest you doom your own soul to the pit of fire,’ and that’s just what Lucius tried to do. Considering his good health at eighty-seven, he considered it to be good advice.

  “I feel them nibbling,” Clifton whispered with excitement.

  “That’s good! Keep still, and maybe you can bring supper home.”

  Moments passed, but there were no more signs of the hungry fish. After twenty minutes, Lucius dropped his line into a quiet area that he had a feeling about. Right away, his line got snagged on the bottom.

  “You got one!” Clifton exclaimed.

  “I don’t know ‘bout that. I think I just got it caught on a root or something. It’s mighty heavy, whatever it be.” Lucius pulled on the line from several angles, trying to free it without breaking his favorite fishing pole. Just when he thought he’d have to cut the line, he felt the object give way. Whatever he had hooked was heavy, but Lucius pulled it out of the muddy water and swing it onto dry land between himself and the boy.

  “It’s a shoe,” remarked Clifton with amazement. “Look, Paw Paw, there’s something in it.”

  Lucius squinted to examine his catch, and wished he hadn’t. He dropped his pole and grabbed hold of Clifton, pulling the boy to his side and covering his eyes.

  The boy was right. There was something in the shoe.

  PART ONE:

  HOCUS POCUS

  What the eyes see and the ears hear,

  the mind believes.

  Harry Houdini

  CHAPTER ONE

  “Ladies and gentlemen, what you are about to see will amaze and confound you. Please, do not be alarmed. At no time will you be in danger.”

  Richard looked around the tent. Most of the chairs were empty as usual, but at least the people who were there made up for the lack of audience with a lack of interest. He thrust his arms into the air in a dramatic fashion and continued his spiel. “As you can see, there’s nothing up my sleeves. At no time will my arms ever leave my side.”

  Someone coughed, and his lame joke fell flat, as it always did. Three teenage boys were wrestling with each other in the back row. A rotund man wearing suspenders was slumped over in the second row, snoring. A woman in the middle row on the right was simultaneously rocking an infant in her arms while tending to two toddlers who fidgeted at her side.

  “As you can see, this is an ordinary deck of cards.” Richard picked up the trick playing cards and fanned them out for their inspection. He pushed them back into a pile, shuffled the deck, and nodded to Ruth, who was waiting in the wings behind the curtain.

  He waited. Ruth was too busy checking her mascara in a compact mirror to notice her cue. Richard cleared his throat, but to no avail. He repeated his line. “Yes, as you can see, this is an ordinary deck of cards.”

  Richard glared at his wife, who remained unaware that she’d been summoned. Leaving him little choice, he said the line again, “This is an ordinary deck of cards.”

  “We heard you the first time!” yelled one of the teenagers.

  Ruth snapped her compact shut, slipped it into a hidden pocket in her skimpy outfit, and pranced out onto the stage. The three youths catcalled and hooted as she gave a bow and smiled.

  “May I present my lovely assistant,” Richard announced, “the incredible Miss Matilda the Mysterious!” The introduction called for another series of whistles and hoots as well as a polite round of applause from the small crowd. Ruth ate up the attention that was considerably more than the magician had garnered so far. “Matilda, if you please,” he continued, “draw a card, any card, from the deck, but don’t let me see it.”

  Richard turned his head to the side and closed his eyes tight to show the audience that he had no way of knowing which card his wife was selecting. He did his best to hide his annoyance when he felt her select a different card than the one she was supposed to pick. They’d practiced the routine for hours the previous day without a single mishap, but now, when it mattered most, Ruth spoiled the trick.

  “While my eyes are closed, show the audience the card, then put it back into the deck,” he continued as if nothing had gone awry.

  Ruth waved the card for the crowd to see. When she attempted to slip the card into the middle of the pile, Richard pushed the deck slightly askew so that he would be able to find that particular card later. Unfortunately, Ruth bumped his arm, making him lose his place as well as his temper. Richard did the only thing he could do at that point. He dropped the deck, sending playing cards scattering across the stage.

  “Gosh golly, Svengali!
” Richard exclaimed. “It appears the lovely Matilda knocked the cards out of my hands.”

  “Looks more like the Remarkable Richard is a clumsy oaf!” a voice called out.

  “Fifty-two pick up!” shouted another.

  The sound of laughter drifted up from the audience. Richard ignored it and moved on. “What I’m about to show you now is nothing short of a miracle. Years ago, as I traveled through the Dark Continent, I came across a witch doctor who, after a great deal of convincing on my part, agreed to share with me the secrets of the netherworld. I will now give a demonstration of this great power as I perform the mystical art of resurrection.”

  The baby wailed, encouraging another round of abuse from the teenagers.

  “I feel like crying, too!” shouted one.

  “You suck!” yelled another.

  Ruth brought out an object covered with a colorful silk cloth and placed it on the table. She moved her hands over it as if presenting the item for inspection, then backed away. Richard stood behind the item and waved his arms in the air, as if pushing away invisible cobwebs. Closing his eyes and lifting his face toward the ceiling, he chanted, his voice starting low, then increasing in intensity.

  “Humma bumma hoodoo voodoo inna mona lisa. Abdu rabdu onu locust, dippy doodoo, hocus pocus!” He waved his arms and opened his eyes with a dramatic flair, only to realize when he looked down that he’d skipped the beginning of the trick. Quickly trying to recover as if nothing had happened, he lifted the silk cloth off of the object to disclose a wire cage sitting on the table. Inside it, a white dove lay on its side.

  “I tawt I saw a puddy cat!” one of the teenagers yelled.

  Everyone, except the magician, laughed—including Ruth. Richard ignored the heckling and continued. “This poor creature of the heavens has recently expired. But fear not, for I, the Remarkable Richard, will resurrect the bird’s spirit, and again it shall take flight amongst the living! At no time will anyone here be in any danger, but I must warn you, do not try this at home. Only the greatest of mystics, wizards, or magicians can perform such miracles. Do not, I repeat, do not interrupt me as I summon the spirits. They will not take kindly to mockery.”

  “Just get on with it already!” one of the boys shouted.

  Richard sighed and covered up the cage once again. As he fitted the cloth over the bottom edge of the cage, he pushed a hidden latch, but it refused to budge. He pushed harder, but it remained stuck. He looked up and smiled nervously. Pretending to smooth out the table cloth, Richard slipped his hand around the back of the cage and tried for a third time to release the latch. This time, he pushed it too hard, and the whole contraption went flying off the end of the table, crashing to the floor. As the dead bird spilled out of the cage, a live bird, caught in a fake compartment along the bottom, flapped its wings in a desperate attempt to break free of the trap.

  The audience exploded with laughter. Richard looked away in embarrassment, only to see Ruth yukking it up with the crowd. His face grew red with anger and humiliation. He felt like crying, but he held it together and tried to steady himself until the room stopped laughing. He picked up the dead bird and tossed it into the cage. As he did, the spring popped, and the bottom flipped open. The live dove broke free, flying out and hitting Richard in the face, knocking his glittery turban to one side. The crowd responded with another round of laughter and jeers.

  Once the audience quieted down, he began again. “You have angered the spirits, and they seek to send curses your way. Lucky for you, I am here to protect you from their wrath.”

  “Lucky us!” someone yelled. The crowd laughed again.

  “I am the Remarkable Richard!” Richard’s voice boomed with authority. “And I will now present to you the most fantastic and incredible act of magic you will ever see in your sad and pathetic little lives.”

  The insult was met with hisses and boos.

  “In my journeys to the Orient, I met a Hindu mystic who imparted to me the gift of the Magi. This is a great power that was bestowed on me, and I will demonstrate the greatest of all illusions. I will saw Miss Matilda the Mysterious in half, right in front of your eyes, only to restore her to her lovely self with the powers vested in me by the holy Brahman of India. At no time will any of you be in danger. And please, I beg of you, do not try this at home.”

  A long table carrying a wooden casket rolled out from behind the curtain on the right. It made it out to about a third of the way before halting abruptly. Richard looked over and saw that Ruth was struggling to push the heavy object onto the stage. She tried again, but it refused to budge. Richard saw that the cover from the bird cage had gotten twisted up in one of the wheels, so he ran over to try to dislodge it. Ruth pushed the table backward and forward as Richard pulled at the cloth, which only knotted it further around the wheel.

  Screech! A high pitched squeal erupted as the pair forced the table out onto the stage. By the time they made it to the center of the stage, the corners were starting to collapse a little, causing the whole contraption to sway. Richard glanced apprehensively at his wife, who stared at him doubtfully.

  “If it pleases my lovely assistant,” Richard announced to the audience, “I will help her into the box.”

  “It does not please me,” Ruth snapped.

  “Don’t do it, lady!” someone yelled. “Remember the bird.”

  A howl of laughter erupted from the crowd once again.

  “At no time will you be in any danger,” Richard pleaded.

  “At no time will I climb in that box,” she answered, much to the approval of the crowd.

  “But Miss Matilda—,” Richard stammered.

  “Ruth,” she corrected him.

  “But I am the Remarkable Richard! I command you!”

  “Put a sock in it, Dick.”

  The crowd howled in delight. Pretty soon, everyone in the tent got in on the heckling. Shouts of “The Remarkable Dick!” and “At no time will we see anything worth seeing!” were only interrupted by boos, hisses, and the occasional thrown food items. Richard stormed off the stage in disgust, finally earning a huge round of applause. Ruth stayed behind to take a few bows. The crowd loved her as much as they loathed her husband.

  Richard threw off his turban and stewed in anger. He vowed that he was going to make his poor excuse of a wife pay for her actions, if it was the last thing he did.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Richard remained silent as Bossman Wallace chewed him out over his poor performance. He’d been summoned to the Wagon when word spread of the debacle, and he had to explain once again why he’d be short on the take. Wallace pretended not to want the meager funds offered to him. He threatened to kick the magician off of the bill and replace him with another human oddity. But the ruse was up when he pocketed the cash and nodded for Richard to leave. Wallace’s inappropriate comment about sending for Ruth to make up for the lost wages didn’t help. Richard was furious.

  When he got back to the trailer, he let his wife know, in no uncertain terms, that her sabotaging of their act could not continue.

  “What the hell is wrong with you, woman? Can’t you see how much we need this?”

  “We, Dick?” Ruth had had enough. “Don’t you mean you? When are you going to face it? You’re a horrible magician.”

  “I wouldn’t be if I had an assistant who was worth a crap.”

  “Don’t you lay this on me. I’m the only reason people clap at all. Even Bossman says—”

  Richard’s hand cut through the air like a bolt of lightning, catching Ruth across the cheek. Ruth held the side of her face, tears welling up in her eyes, her heavy mascara running in rivulets.

  “Don’t tell me about what Bossman says, slut. It doesn’t matter what Bossman says. It matters what I say. I’m your husband, which means your ass belongs to me.” He hated to be so hard on the woman, but she had it coming.

  Ruth cast her sad eyes down and Richard knew the crying would come next. Normally, that would mean he would cave in and apolog
ize, but her power over him was beginning to wane. He looked at her and tried not to laugh. Her makeup was a mess, and she looked like a raccoon. The red outline of his hand on her cheek didn’t help her appearance any.

  “You purposely screwed up our routine. You embarrassed me. We’re barely getting by as it is, and you pull a stunt like this. What’s the matter with you? Why would you do such a thing?”

  “You know why, Dick,” Ruth sobbed. “I’m not happy.”

  “You’re never happy. No matter what you want, as soon as you get it, you want something else. We discussed this before we started, if you remember. You said you didn’t want a humdrum life. You wanted to travel. You wanted the glamour of the big top. You wanted to be in show business. I gave you all those things, and this is how you repay me?”

  “Take a look around us, Dick. Do you think this is glamorous?”

  “We have to pay our dues, Ruth.”

  “We can’t even pay our rent.”

  “Not yet, but one day, we will. You’ll see. Remember what I told you. Stick with me and one day you’ll be farting through silk.”

  “That’s disgusting. Come on, Dick. You’re a second rate magician at best. Even if you were the greatest magician in the world, we’d be struggling. You’re not Blackstone or Houdini, and you never will be.”

  “I’m not trying to be.”

  “What are you trying to be? The Remarkable Richard? Where did you come up with that name? Your name is Dick Henderson, from Toledo, Ohio. We’re just a couple of average yokels. We don’t need fortune and fame. I don’t even want that anymore.”

  “What do you want, Ruth?”

  “I want a family.” She finally said what had been on her mind for months. She’d gotten tired of the grind almost as soon as they’d set out. Everything he said was true. They had discussed it. She’d been all for it. He’d made it sound so exciting. It turned out to be just the opposite. They lived in a tiny, cramped trailer with a leaky roof and a window that didn’t close all the way. They traveled from town to town with whatever sideshow they could manage to hook up with. Most of the time, they were searching for a new sponsor every couple of months. The act was terrible and showed no signs of getting better. It was time for a change.