by C. W. Trisef
“Ingenious,” Mr. Coy whispered in awe.
“You said it,” Charlotte agreed, smelling the delicious aroma in the air. “Virginia’s lasagna is simply divine. You know, she once told me the secret is in the…” She continued talking as she slowly made her way to the dining room, Mr. Coy too enthralled in analyzing Stone’s home to pay much attention to what she was saying. It was a delightful place, professionally designed and elegantly furnished. There was not so much as one smudge on the walls or a single crumb on the carpet. It was almost a bit too immaculate, as if they were trying to cover up something.
Mr. Coy wondered if dinner would be cold and stale by the time Charlotte arrived, so slowly did she hobble along. On their way out of the living room, Mr. Coy saw someone he recognized in a framed photograph sitting next to a lamp on a small table. He left Charlotte’s side and went to examine it.
“Dr. Cross?” he said with great consternation. Then his attention shifted to the other person in the picture, the man with whom Dr. Cross was shaking hands. “Stone? What business does Dr. Cross have with Stone?”
Just then, a loud voice caused Mr. Coy to nearly drop the picture frame.
“Les, dinner’s ready!”
“Coming, Virginia!”
Mr. Coy scrambled to hide as he heard Stone’s loud footsteps coming up the hallway toward the living room.
Meanwhile, Charlotte was still babbling. “…And then she puts a final layer of cheese on top and broils it to a crisp! I tell you, Virginia is a magician in the kitchen.”
“Charlotte,” said Stone, arriving in the living room and finding Charlotte alone, “who are you talking to?”
“Why, Lester, I’m talking to you, of course,” she said, a little offended.
Suspecting something out of the ordinary, Stone frantically began searching his house for an intruder. He stopped cold when he found Mr. Coy sitting peacefully at the dining room table. He had served himself a hearty helping of lasagna from the casserole dish, which sat in the center of the table between two lit candles.
“You know, Les,” Coy said between bites, “I must say the extra ricotta is a nice touch, but do tell Virginia the sauce could use a bit more salt.”
“What are you doing in my house?” Stone asked through his teeth, beside himself to find Coy sitting at his dinner table, eating his food. Virginia emerged from the kitchen to see what was going on.
“Your sweet Charlotte invited me to dinner,” Coy explained unhurriedly, “but I think I’ll take mine to go.” Mr. Coy grabbed the casserole dish and flung its contents onto Principal Stone. Amid his shouts of outrage and Virginia’s screams of fright, Coy pulled out two rocket boosters from his pack and strapped them to the long sides of the dish. Then he grabbed the candles, used their flames to light his fuses, and jumped into the dish, gripping the handles on its short sides and squatting to stabilize himself.
Mr. Coy turned to Stone, who was still wiping tomato sauce from his eyes, and asked, “Have you ever—Ben Coy?” The boosters ignited, propelling Mr. Coy off the table, through the window, and across the back lawn. Reaching the end of the grass, he held on for dear life as the terrain changed from land to water. He was now skidding across a murky swamp, dodging rotting tree stumps and thick patches of reeds. With his sights always set on the path ahead, Mr. Coy’s heart sank when he saw the sky flickering with occasional pulses of electricity and remembered the laser bubble that enclosed the entirety of Stone’s property. With a mere hundred yards to act, his distress doubled when a colony of crocodiles gathered to form an impassable line at the foot of the bubble.
Hoping it would prevent him from either being vaporized or digested, Mr. Coy pushed the front of the casserole dish down while simultaneously pulling the back of it up. He held his breath as he went underwater, passing under the crocs and the beam. He gradually tilted himself the opposite way until he had returned to the surface and was surfing safely away. Then he extended his wings and took to the skies, the casserole dish speeding out to sea.
“I suppose I owe Virginia a replacement dish,” he smirked.
Mr. Coy soared northeasterly toward Little Tybee Island, a part of whose cliffside had been carved out to form a tunneled airstrip, its entrance masked by a hologram. He flew through the false wall into the enclosed passageway and landed on the runway.
Back at the Stone residence, Virginia was helping to peel large strips of lasagna noodles from her husband’s face.
“My word, Lester!” said Charlotte, finally arriving in the dining room. “Can’t your remodeling wait until after dinner?” She had heard the shattering of the window. “I mean, really, first the room in the Keep, and now this?”
Chapter 6
True Love Burns Deep
Ret had to brush a bunch of leaves out of the kayak before he and Ana could climb inside on their way to Coy Manor. This wasn’t on account of infrequent use but rather that fall was in full swing. Yet, despite all the autumnal evidence around them, summer seemed to be clinging to the temperature. So far, it had been the hottest October the island had ever recorded, and although Ret didn’t mind the prolonged warmth, it felt unusual to him, like something was askew. He wondered if nature might be trying to convey some message, like a parcel carrier returning day after day in waning attempts to deliver a package to an unresponsive addressee.
It was with a bit of suspense that Ret and Ana trekked up their usual dusty path on the east face of Little Tybee Island toward the Manor.
“Did Mr. Coy say anything about why he wanted to talk to us?” Ret asked.
“No, Ret,” Ana replied, sounding as if she had answered the question before. “All Paige said was that her dad has something to show us.”
“It probably has nothing to do with the scar since it stopped glowing before we were able to show it to him,” Ret reasoned. “Do you think he found Stone’s second trunk? Or maybe the Oracle did something new?”
“Whatever it is, we need to make it snappy,” Ana ordered. “Paige and I have a big game today.”
Having informed Paige of their proximity, they passed through the gate and hiked up the long walkway to the wide steps that led to the large double doors.
“Dad’s in the planetarium,” said Paige, greeting her friends in the semicircular foyer and quickly chauffeuring them through one of the many shadowed doorways along the arc of the entry. Ret purposely avoided the center of the room to keep himself from bumping into the invisible bust of Grandmother Coy.
They hurried down a long hallway. Their pace slowed, however, when the path ahead showed a sudden downgrade like a hillside. Since the walls were clear, it was quite easy to see that they were following the natural slope of the island. While the corridor was set in the ground, the ceiling stretched all the way to the dirt line, staying mostly covered with the exception of the occasional skylight. At the end of the hall, intertidal waves licked the other side of the transparent wall like a half-filled fish tank, informing them that they had reached sea level.
As their guide, Paige immediately started descending the spiral staircase, its first step flush with the floor at the end of the hallway. Ana did the same, but Ret paused for a moment to observe the large, glass pipe that was channeling ocean water through the side of the wall and down the hollow center of the spiral staircase. In a steady supply, the waves rushed seawater horizontally into the pipe and then vertically like some sort of freefall. Ret dashed down the stairs, interested to know the water’s fate.
“I hope there’s an elevator for the return trip,” Ana moaned wearily as the staircase spiraled onward with its end nowhere in sight.
“It’s warming us up for the game,” Paige said brightly.
“If you say so, girl.”
Meanwhile, Ret’s gaze kept switching, back and forth, from his next step at his feet to the clear tube at his side. Its contents seemed to pick up speed every second, plunging downward like a bottled waterfall.
Reaching the end of the stairway, Ana let out a loud sigh of
accomplishment. It was a small room, not unlike the bottom of a typical stairwell. There was a single doorway where a stiff curtain was drawn. The long pipe continued through the floor, where Ret could hear the loud sloshing of churning waters. Paige slipped through the curtain, and the Coopers followed.
They stepped into outer space—at least, that’s what it seemed like. In a room that was at least the size of a sports arena floated a giant replica of the solar system. The only light came from a large sun, which rotated in the center while each planet, its size to scale with the sun, revolved around it. Thick pylons sat above and beneath the sun, connecting to it only with an electrical current that spanned the gaps. The perpetual current exhibited such great voltage and energy that it completely engulfed the sun in flames, making it easy to identify.
“What in the world?” Ana gasped, her hands frantically feeling her earlobes. “My earrings just flew out of my ears!”
“Oh, sorry,” Paige apologized with a laugh. “I should’ve warned you: the walls are giant magnets.” Ret looked around and was somewhat astounded to notice how the wall beside them quickly curved into blackness in all directions, making it impossible to see the floor or ceiling, not unlike true outer space. “It’s how Dad’s planets stay in orbit.”
“Good thing I wasn’t particularly fond of that pair,” Ana said sarcastically, finding where her earrings had come to rest on the wall above their heads, out of reach.
Just then, Saturn passed right in front of them.
“Holy space monkeys!” Ana shouted, startled by how closely the large, ringed planet had rolled past them. “This place is a nightmare!”
“No, it’s not, Ana,” Paige said encouragingly. “This platform is magnetic, too.” She tapped her foot to signify that she was referring to the small platform they were standing on, which jutted out of the side of the room. “It provides just enough attraction to pull each planet barely out of its individual orbit yet close enough for someone to get on.”
“You mean you ride these things?” Ana asked, now beside herself. “Like a pony?”
“Of course,” said Paige. Then, pointing to the other side of the room, she added, “Dad’s on Uranus.”
“He’s on my what?” asked Ana alarmingly.
“Hello, fellow astronauts!” Mr. Coy shouted from across the solar system. He was affixed spread-eagle to one of the planets, looking very much like he belonged in the circus as the human target on the spinning wheel at which knives are thrown. “Go ahead, get on! Take one out for a spin.”
Paige led them back through the curtain to a coat closet where she dug out three metal harnesses. She showed Ret and Ana how to slip the malleable harness over the shoulders, down the back, and between the legs. All of the straps met in the center of the chest and clicked together in one clasp.
“Sweet!” Ana cheered as her harness came together.
“Rule #1: In the planetarium,” Paige instructed them, “we always stay behind the curtain until ready to jump. This curtain is coated in bismuth, which is diamagnetic, so it repels the magnetic pull of an approaching planet.” Though Ret was enthralled by Paige’s safety seminar, Ana was bored. “Which brings me to Rule #2: Never—”
“Sounds good, Paige,” Ana said, brushing her off. “But Houston just cleared me for takeoff!” Ana passed through the curtain and jumped to the edge of the magnetic platform. Then she screamed as the planet Mercury pulled her onto its surface.
“Ana—wait!” Paige called after her. Instinctively, she jumped through the curtain in an effort to stop Ana. Upon realizing what planet she was on, Paige yelled, “That’s Rule #2: Never get on Mercury because—” But Paige was interrupted when the next planet rolled by the platform. She turned and exerted herself against the pull of the magnetic planet. Still behind the curtain, Ret peaked through it and reached to grab Paige’s hand but to no avail. Her escape was halted, then she stood motionless for a split second before being dragged away.
“Rule #3: Always avoid Pluto,” Paige persisted as she floated away, sounding defeated. Just by observing Paige, Ret understood the rationale behind the third rule. True to its identity, the sphere representing Pluto in Mr. Coy’s model was pathetically small—no larger than a basketball. With great difficulty, Paige clung to the planet she was coerced to ride, nearly enveloping it with her bear hug of a grip.
Ret remained behind the curtain, contemplating his own jump, but was greatly distracted by the warnings that Paige was desperately trying to give to Ana. Too busy enjoying the ride, Ana’s shouts of jubilation drowned out her friend’s cries of caution. Finally, Paige turned to Ret.
“Ret, you’ve got to help Ana,” she pled. “Mercury gets too close to the sun!”
Ret knew what to do. He fled from behind the curtain and jumped onto the oncoming planet.
Meanwhile, Ana was beginning to sweat. She quieted her cheering and asked, “Is it supposed to be getting hot in here?” As Mercury continued to spin on its axis, Ana was brought to face the cause of her perspiration. A shrill scream filled the universe.
“Ret!” Ana yelped. “Help!”
With each rotation, the sun drew Mercury ever closer back to its proper place along the innermost orbit. Ana employed a never-ending cry for help, a shriek that increased in volume every time her planet moved and positioned her facing the sun.
“Come on, come on,” Ret worried, wishing his planet would revolve faster. Ana’s, however, had returned to its orbit and was now nearing the stretch on its decreed course when it would be closest to the sun.
“Ret!” Ana squealed. “Now would be a good time to do something!”
Just as Ana was beginning to feel her hair getting singed, the wall of heat radiating in front of her suddenly went cool. She opened her eyes to see the smooth, flameless surface of the sun. She sighed.
With his left hand stretched out in front of him, Ret turned the palm toward him to confirm what he was hoping: the scar was glowing once again. He kept his concentration on sparing Ana of third-degree burns, and the flames, though still engulfing the rest of the star, ceased immediately about her person, following her through the end of her orbit. When Mercury had passed by the landing platform once again, Ana released her harness and slipped onto the stationary flooring. The first one back, she collapsed in exhaustion.
Next came Ret. He dismounted from Earth and hurried to Ana’s side.
“Tell me, Ret,” she begged earnestly, in between breaths, “are they gone?”
“What?”
“My eyebrows,” she explained dramatically. “Did they get burned off?” Ret rolled his eyes.
“Well that was very entertaining,” said Mr. Coy, approaching the platform at the completion of his orbit. “I’d say it was the most action this galaxy has seen since the Big Bang.” He released his harness, slid off his planet, and walked through the curtain. They heard the closet door shut and then saw him return with something in his hand.
“This is what I wanted to show you,” said Mr. Coy, coming in closer to them.
“Oh, nice!” Ana celebrated. “I love the Lakers.”
“Not the jersey,” Mr. Coy corrected her. “This!” He pulled away the sports jersey and revealed the artifact he had pilfered from Stone’s chest.
“It’s a rock,” Ret observed, sounding unimpressed.
“Rocks are cool,” Ana inserted, trying to keep Ret’s hopes alive.
“Not this one,” said Coy. “This one is actually quite hot.” He passed it to Ana. Caught off guard, she tried to get a grip on it. Then, when she finally did, she felt its heat and quickly abandoned it like a player in a game of hot potato.
“First the sun and now this?” she asked indignantly. “What are you trying to do, burn me alive or something?” Ana paused when she noticed how Mr. Coy had his eyes glued on Ret.
Ret was wide-eyed. As soon as he received the rock from Ana, it started to glow from the inside out. A red light began to smolder from within, each of the rock’s tiny pores emitting a portion
of the glow. In a matter of seconds, it changed from a dying ember to a live coal. When sparks began to pop, Ret dropped the rock out of fright. It fell to the floor without a bounce and quickly died. Mr. Coy scooped it up and rewrapped it in the jersey.
“What was that?” Ret asked, stunned by what just happened.
“‘A rock,’ to use your words,” said Mr. Coy, still feeling cross from Ret’s initial remark. “But to use my words, a clue—a clue to what, I don’t know. Still, it never behaved that way while in my possession, so it must fancy your scar.” Mr. Coy’s eyes flew to Ret’s palm. “So nice of it to light up again. May I?” Ret held out his palm for Mr. Coy’s inspection.
“Your guess is as good as mine,” Ret said.
“Well, I still think it looks like a gummy bear,” Ana reaffirmed.
“A gummy bear?” Coy asked.
“You know,” said Ana, “the candy.”
“I love gummy bears!” Mr. Coy said, grinning at Ana. “What’s your favorite flavor?”
“It’s not a gummy bear,” Ret insisted, perturbed by his associates’ flippant attitudes.
“Then what is it, Ret?” Ana wanted to know.
“I don’t know,” he said. “It looks like a—like a—a squatting man.”
“Squatting man?” Coy repeated.
“That sounds like the name of some Indian chief!” Ana teased.
“Perhaps it’s a squatting bear?” Mr. Coy suggested, trying to compromise.
“Give me a break.” Ret retracted his hand, now considerably annoyed. Realizing the scar meant nothing to Mr. Coy either, he focused his attention on the rock.
“Where did you get that rock?” he asked.
“It was in Stone’s trunk,” Mr. Coy answered.
“Oh, so you found it, eh?” Ana wondered, suddenly interested since she previously went to great lengths to track it down. “Where was the darn thing?”
“In Stone’s possession.”
“You mean to tell me I went to jail for a rock?”
