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Trunks of Ages: The Seven Seals

Page 19

by Mary Beth Frank

Chapter 14 Flight

  December 17-A few weeks earlier

  Jerold and Beth Hanks sat waiting to board the British Airways 747 that was sitting at the gate at London Heathrow Airport. It had been three days since they found Makayla's trunk at Harlech. It had taken them that long to make preparations to ship the trunk, secure their flight, and get back to London. Beth was gripping Jerold's hand so hard he thought he could see his fingertips turning blue. First-class passengers were called to board, and Jerold and Beth swiftly made their way onto the plane, knowing that the flight home was going to seem like an eternity.

  December 18

  The plane landed at JFK without incident and the Hanks filed out with the other passengers, most heading to gates where they would catch connecting flights. The Hanks were going to drive home from JFK, the drive being only four and a half hours, as opposed to an eight-hour flight with two lay over’s. Jerold pulled out his cell phone once they were clear of the gate. He waited while the phone was ringing on the other end. Beth was looking at him, nervously biting her nails.

  “Dad?” Jerold paused, listening to his father on the other end.

  “We're here. Can you still meet us? Yeah, OK. We'll meet you there later. We have to stop by the house first.”

  Jerold hung up the phone, guilt washing over him. He was having a hard time putting something else on his father's shoulders, but he didn't know who else he could trust right now.

  They had to be careful not to bring unwanted attention to his father. He’d noticed three men, in the London airport, who seemed to take in their every move. They just happened to be on the same fly back to the states, sitting precariously close to him and Beth. Jerold scanned the crowd and spotted the same three men. One was sitting in the seats at the gate across the way, one was leaning against the wall outside the restrooms, talking on his cell phone, and the third was standing at the coffee bistro in the middle of the aisle, paying the cashier for the drink she was handing him. Jerold sighed, thinking he was being paranoid, but he was pretty certain they were following them. How long had people followed them? Had Tildon hired people to follow them on each of their excavations? Jerold shook his head, frustrated at how oblivious he had been. He and Beth made their way down the wide aisle between the rows of gates, weaving their way through passengers, toward their baggage claim and the car rentals. Jerold passed the man on his cell phone and scowled as he caught his eye. He could have sworn that for a brief moment he saw recognition in the man's face.

  He knew, of course, they would be down in the baggage claim with him, whether they were following him or just getting their own bags from the same flight.

  With little thought, the Hanks grabbed their numerous suitcases, piling them up on their cart, and then pushing through to the Hertz rental booth. They waited in line, behind several foreign couples, who already had their cameras out ready for their visit to the Big Apple. Annoyed, Jerold was trying hard not to become irritated with the slow girl behind the counter, who seemed to take excruciating pains at checking in the customers in front of him. He turned to scan the room, looking for another car rental line that wasn’t moving quite so slowly. His eyes caught a familiar shirt, making Jerold grimace when he realized who it was. One of the three men following them was in his line. He glanced around the rest of the room and spotted the other two only a few feet away, making themselves busy by doing something inconspicuous.

  Finally it was their turn at claiming a car, and Jerold was eager to rent anything that would get them home sooner rather than later. He reserved the last Ford Mustang they had, grateful for something decent. Jerold grabbed the keys from the lady, making no attempt at being thankful or polite. Rushing out the sliding glass doors, Jerold had a thousand things on his mind. Lost in thought, he nearly knocked the luggage cart over. Beth gave him a cautious look, nodding her head behind her. Jerold caught the direction of her gaze, turning to see the men walking casually behind them. They found the car and silently threw their luggage into the trunk and backseat. They worked quickly, knowing that they needed to get out of the airport traffic within the next five minutes. Otherwise, they might get cornered by Tildon’s men. Again, Jerold’s mind began to wonder if it had always been like this, but he was too unaware to notice. They drove in silence, not wanting to verbalize their fears. For some reason, once something is said, it becomes a bigger reality than when it is still part of your thoughts and imagination. Jerold did not want the fact that they were being chased to become reality.

  After about 45 minutes, they were finally cruising on I-80 heading toward Ithaca. Jerold and Beth continued to drive in silence, stopping only once to top off the tank and use the restroom. There wasn't much to say, but the silence would eventually have to be broken. They both knew and dreaded this fact.

  At the gas station, Jerold recognized one of the men sitting in a parked car next to the building. They didn't seem to realize that he had noticed them, but why should they? They had probably been following him for the last six years and he had no idea. He shook his head again, cursing himself under his breath for being such an idiot.

  Jerold looked at the clock to see that it was 11 a.m., and they had 45 minutes left to go. They had given Alice explicit instructions to make sure everyone was out of the house while they were there. They told her they were home strictly for work purposes and didn't know if they could stay. They didn't want the kids to get their hopes up if they weren't going to be able to make it a long visit. Alice had thought it a good idea and agreed to make arrangements for Scotty to be at a friend’s house after preschool, while the rest were still in school.

  Jerold finally pulled the Mustang into the drive of their Victorian mansion, carefully watching for their pursuers. However, he hadn’t seen them since the outskirts of Ithaca. He thought it odd, but the only pursuer left had turned his car around and sped off. Jerold parked in front of the garage, barely allowing enough time for the car to come to a stop before he and Beth tore into the house. Rushing to the attic, they flew up the stairs and stopped short when they saw the trunks scattered over the attic floor, covered in dust from being in storage all these years They had decided to store them at Cornell until they had all seven; then they would return to their task of opening and discovering what was inside. They were hoping that Tildon's secrets had something to do with the fact that the locks would not budge. Jerold wasn't sure he really wanted to know the answer to the riddle. At this point, though, he had no choice in the matter. Beth started roaming from trunk to trunk, looking them over and studying the gold plates on the fronts. Jerold grimaced, when he heard his wife moan, after examining the last of them. Jerold saw her face become pale, her body unsteady. He moved swiftly to her side, throwing his arm around her waist for stability.

  “Beth?” he whispered, already knowing what the tears brimming in her eyes confirmed.

  “It's true; the initials on the plates. All of them, every last one of them has a trunk.” Beth shoved her head into his chest and started sobbing.

  Jerold caught his breath, his mind racing with all sorts of possibilities and outcomes.

  “Well, at least they can't be opened. And Tildon would never guess that they were here. He wouldn't come here anyways, never has, and I suppose he never will.” Jerold pushed his wife away from him and leaned down to the trunk closest to him. He began to run his thumb over the dirty, cold plate. “Ethan's”

  Beth leaned down and looked. She let her body collapse to the dusty attic floor, her tears springing to life once more. Jerold sat down next to her, wanting to just hold her for a few minutes. Finally, as gently as possible, he began to speak.

  “Beth, we have to look at this objectively. We've known for quite some time that these trunks are bigger than anything we've studied about in our lifetime. And now they have to do with our children. We certainly can't answer the why right now, but what we can figure out is how to prevent Tildon from getting his hands on them.” />
  Beth was sitting with her head in her knees, just like Makayla does when she's upset. Jerold tucked a strand of wavy blond hair behind her ear, thinking to himself about keeping Tildon at bay.

  “I think that if we aren't near the trunks, he won't have a chance to get at them.” Beth's voice was barely audible. Jerold shot her a sideways glance, not sure he heard her right.

  “What?” He questioned.

  “Think about it, Jerold. If he's after the trunks, and we are the key to finding all the trunks, it's really us he's after for the moment. Maybe he doesn't need the children until all seven are found. Maybe that's why he’s waiting to tell us the 'big' secret until all seven are in his hands. Then he'll have no need for us. He’ll get rid of us and get his hands on the children.”

  Jerold swallowed hard and thought the theory through. It made sense, but he couldn't imagine leaving the children right now, not after knowing the danger they could be in. He rubbed his hand through his hair, annoyed that his wife was probably right.

  “What should we do?” Beth's eyes questioned him, waiting for him to have some epiphany.

  “I think you're right. I think we have to let Tildon chase us for now until we can figure out what's going on. My dad can keep a close eye on the kids for us until we feel it's safe to come back.”

  “Can we wait until after Christmas?” Beth looked at him, pleading.

  “I don't think so. It won't take Tildon long to realize what's going on, but if we make him think we’re searching for the seventh trunk, then we can buy some time.”

  “The seventh trunk,” Beth repeated to herself. “But we only have six children! Who could the seventh trunk represent?”

  “Maybe it's not who, but what.” Jerold let this thought fester a moment. He knew he couldn’t dwell on something he didn’t understand, not now anyways. They didn’t have that kind of time.

  “I don't know, but that's not important right now. We need to get out of here before the kids get home from school.” Jerold checked his watch and saw it was close to 1:30 p.m. They had about an hour left, before the others would be coming back. They were meeting his dad at a restaurant outside of town in a few hours.

  “Beth, why don't you go downstairs and write Sebastian a note telling him we won't be home for Christmas this year. I'll go grab anything from my study that might be of use. We'll need to swing by Cornell and grab the rest.”

  Beth nodded and Jerold watched her go, seeing her shoulders sink, as she seemed to be thinking about what to write.

  Jerold ran down to his office, searching through the stacks of papers on his desk, shoving items of interest into a box he'd grabbed upstairs. He came across a drawing he had confiscated when they were searching for the third trunk. It was an elegant cup with a very unique crest on the front of it. He had thought the crest was so unusual, nothing like the other medieval crests he’d seen. He’d meant to study it, but had never found the time. He laid the paper down on top of his desk and ran out to find Beth. They needed to get ready to leave.

  “Jerold, is that you?” A light, airy voice called from downstairs.

  Jerold moaned, instantly recognizing Alice’s voice, fearing they were too late to miss any of the children. He turned toward the staircase, nearly tripping down the steps to meet her in the foyer. Beth must have heard Alice too, because she was standing there laughing with her when he came down. He could tell she was trying very hard to cover up her sorrow.

  “Alice, please give this to Sebastian. We have come across, uh, something unexpected these last couple of days.” Beth shot Jerold a pained look, and then turned back toward Alice forcing herself to resume the carefree attitude she had concocted a few minutes ago.

  “I am so sorry to say we won't be able to stay for the holidays.”

  Alice looked down at the envelope and took it from Beth.

  Seeing Alice’s face twist in regret, Beth couldn't hold back the tears any longer. She was never good at hiding her real emotions. They all stood there quietly, while Beth made futile attempts to wipe away the tears that were now streaming down her cheeks. Jerold saw a flash of sorrow and understanding come across Alice's smooth features. Alice grabbed Beth’s arm, consoling her with understanding.

  “Mrs. Hanks, please don't worry. Whatever it is, I'm sure the children will understand. We'll be all right. They are in good hands.” Alice hesitated and looked up at Jerold, something in her eyes, an instant flash of reckoning, causing him to catch his breath.

  “Mr. Hanks,” Alice continued, “trust me when I say your children are in very good care.”

  Jerold nodded, not knowing what she was hinting at. Alice was the best nanny they had ever had. In fact, many families in upstate New York had their eye on her. They were all waiting for her to leave them, so they could jump at the chance of hiring her for themselves.

  He sighed, knowing she was right. They'd be fine.

  “Alice, we probably won't be back for a while. We'll be in touch when we can.” He shoved his arms into his coat. Picking up the box, he stopped and glanced around at his home, not sure when they'd be back. A feeling of abandonment swept over him. He grabbed Alice with his free hand, pulling her to his side and kissed her on the top of her head, hoping this wasn’t the last time he would see her.

  “Alice, you mean the world to us. Thank you so much.”

  Alice smiled, a faint chuckle forming under her breath, “You don't know how true that statement is.”

  Jerold looked at her, regarding her with a moment of apprehension, but shrugged the feeling off. He did not have the time to contemplate his intuition right now. He grabbed Beth and disappeared out the door. Jerold gave the house one last look before getting in the car. Alice stood in the side window of the entryway, wiping away the tears as she watched them leave.

  Beth and Jerold drove off, first to Cornell, and then to their meeting with his dad. They had a lot of planning to do. They needed, for the safety of their children, to go in search of the seventh trunk.

 

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