The Last Timekeepers and the Arch of Atlantis

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The Last Timekeepers and the Arch of Atlantis Page 2

by Sharon Ledwith


  The office went quiet, with the exception of Mrs. Greer rifling through a stack of files.

  Amanda cleared her throat. “So…I guess we can go back to class now?”

  Mrs. Greer looked up. She had that smile on her face again. Amanda prepared herself to be swallowed whole. “Sorry, Amanda, but you’ve left me with no other choice but to—”

  “I beg your pardon, Mrs. Greer, but may I make a suggestion?”

  Amanda blew out some air in relief and turned toward the doorway to face their rescuer. Her face twisted. It was her—“the Witch of White Pines.”

  Mrs. Greer acknowledged her politely. “Yes…Ms. Spencer, is it?”

  The dark-haired woman curtly nodded. “As you know, Mrs. Greer, I volunteer at the Snack Program when time permits. In fact, it was I who made all those fresh pizzas for today. It’s really a pity. Nobody had a chance to enjoy my secret homemade tomato sauce.”

  Amanda puckered her lips. Poison. The sauce was probably pure poison. Amanda was grateful she never ate a piece. Rumors around White Pines whispered that Ms. Spencer practiced witchcraft. She even looked the part with her long black hair and ghoulish green eyes. A thin white streak ran down the left side of her hair, giving her a ghostly appearance. Her flowing floral skirt and white blouse wrapped around her loosely like an unraveled mummy. She was new to the town—fresh off the boat from England—and moved here because she had inherited the creepy empty house on Center Street. She was way past forty and had never married. Yup, Ms. Spencer was a witch for sure. All that was missing was the black cat and broom.

  “So what is your suggestion, Ms. Spencer?” Mrs. Greer asked, fiddling with a pen.

  Ms. Spencer smiled. She swept her hand gracefully over Amanda and her four classmates, and said, “I want you to hand them all over to me.”

  3. Garden of Evil

  “Adults screw up everything,” Amanda muttered as she sat on a curb on Center Street, awaiting the four classmates she’d been forced to hang with for the next two weeks after school. Yard duty. That was their sentence for getting into that stupid food fight. Amanda guessed it could have been worse. The Witch of White Pines could have cast a spell and turned them all into toads.

  Behind her loomed Ms. Spencer’s creepy Victorian house. A sudden chill—the kind you’d get watching a horror movie—made Amanda twist around to see if anyone was lurking there. Beyond a slanted black iron gate, the house glared back at her, threatening. Its various shades of weathered brown and yellow brick resembled a crone’s gauzy skin. Her eyes followed the single peak in the middle of the roof and underneath it, a lone door surrounded by a pointy iron fence. The whole house had that gingerbread look to it, like Hansel and Gretel would emerge screaming, followed closely by the evil, child-eating witch.

  Amanda shuddered, then turned around and continued with her vigilance. She caught movement off to her left by a tall cedar hedge across the street. Its branches quivered like a cornered animal. Then—nothing. She shrugged, dismissing it as a stray cat or the wind.

  Amanda sighed. It was now the end of May, and the sun was finally out after a few days of rain. She was thankful for the warmth on her exposed arms. She hugged herself, smelling the fresh scent of cheap detergent clinging to her mother’s worn black T-shirt.

  “Fortune cookie?”

  Amanda practically jumped out of her skin. “Crap, Mui!” she hissed, standing and whirling around. “Are you nuts?”

  “No. The last time I checked, I was definitely Chinese,” Treena answered with a grin. “Want a fortune cookie or not?”

  Amanda stared up at the house of horrors and then glanced at Treena, who was dressed in apple green pants, a Bench brand black hoody, and wedged black sandals. Not your typical work-in-the-garden wear, but Mui was anything but typical. An array of bejeweled barrettes held her shimmering ebony hair in place. Some even matched her earrings. Amanda had opted for a long single braid held in place by a few dollar-store hair bands. It wasn’t stylish, but it was practical.

  Amanda nodded. “Maybe I should. There’s no telling what’s gonna happen to us once we pass through that gate.”

  She grabbed the cookie, cracked it open, and looked at the printed message.

  “Well?” Treena asked. “Do we go in or not?”

  “It says, Your future is as boundless as the lofty heaven,” Amanda answered. She crumpled her fortune and stuffed it into her back pocket. “And seeing as it was the choice of suspension or being Ms. Spencer’s yard slaves, I’d say our future is bleak if we don’t go in.”

  “Good choice!” Treena cheered.

  Together they pushed the rusty gate open. It creaked out a bone-splitting screech.

  “Bad choice,” Treena groaned.

  Amanda patted Treena on the shoulder. “Look, just pretend you’re rehearsing for a part in a movie called Garden of Evil, and you’ll get through this in no time. Okay?”

  Treena puckered her lips to one side. “Garden of Evil? Hmm…sounds like a juicy part. Okay, sign me up.”

  Amanda wagged a finger. “You haven’t got the part yet. You have to audition.”

  Treena creased her ebony brows. Amanda watched as she puffed out her cheeks and raised both arms over her head. “Nobody puts Mui in the corner!” she spouted, waving her hands in the air like she was warding off a swarm of wasps. “Not even that witch, Ms. Spencer!”

  Amanda clapped. “Congrats. You aced it. You get to go in first.”

  Treena stopped waving her hands. “Uh, I’d rather be in the supporting role for this movie. You’re the star. Ergo—you go in first.”

  Amanda rolled her eyes. “Fine, Mui, I’ll lead. Just stop stealing lines from movies.”

  Treena bowed. “Lead on, Macduff!”

  “Huh?”

  “It’s from Macbeth. You know, by Shakespeare—the playwright?”

  Amanda rubbed her head. “Great. I’m stuck with MacMui—the dork.”

  She started to walk past the drooping open gate. Weeds and thistles had sprouted through wide cracks in the cement pathway, and the grass was almost too long to cut with a normal mower. Carcasses of shriveled worms littered the pathway helter-skelter. Considering the ominous setting, Amanda figured that they had been the lucky ones.

  “I was just setting the tone for the scene,” Treena said. “FYI—Macbeth is a tragedy.”

  “So?” Amanda dodged a huge dandelion.

  “So, years ago, something tragic happened at this house.”

  Amanda sighed. “I’m not playing twenty questions, Mui.”

  “A man got brutally murdered here.”

  Amanda froze and looked up at the house. She started to sweat. “Please tell me you’re kidding, Mui.”

  “I kid you not. My older brother Tom told me that this place used to be a busy hotel a long time ago. One murder later, it was closed down permanently. And get this, a dismembered hand was found in the yard, but the body was never found. After that, I think two old ladies lived here until they died or disintegrated or something.”

  Amanda swallowed hard. This place really is a Garden of Evil.

  “Did you see that?” Treena shrieked, jumping behind her.

  Amanda stumbled. “See what?”

  “Over there, by those tall bushes with white flowers,” Treena said, pointing. “I thought I saw something.”

  Amanda clenched her teeth and regained her balance. “It was probably a cat, Mui.”

  “No, no. It was definitely bigger than a kitty cat. More like a mountain lion.”

  “Stop being such a drama queen!” Amanda grabbed Treena by the arm and hauled her toward the house. Arriving on the sagging white porch, Amanda gathered her courage, rapped on the front door, and waited. No answer.

  “Darn, no one’s home, let’s go.” Treena turned on her sandals.

  “Hold it. We should check the backyard just in case. You don’t want Mrs. Greer hearing we were a no-show, do you?”

  Treena shook her head. “Hey, speaking of no-shows, where ar
e the guys?”

  Amanda shrugged. “Dunno. I thought they’d be here by now. Maybe they’re still waiting for Drake at the cemetery.”

  Treena’s almond-shaped eyes bugged. “Cemetery? Why?”

  Amanda looked at her strangely. “You do know his mom died, right?”

  “Yeah, but that was over a year ago.”

  “He’s only ten, Mui. Plus his dad’s been posted to the Middle East again, so he’s probably missing her even more. I heard his grandma is staying with him until his dad gets home—whenever that is.”

  Treena went quiet, as if digesting what Amanda had shared with her. A sudden gust of wind delivered a strong fragrance to Amanda. It wasn’t floral or the scent of grass. It was a more earthy odor—like something had just been dug up. Then, Amanda thought of the missing body Mui had mentioned. Her nose flared, itched, and then let loose. She sneezed all over Treena.

  Treena’s face twisted. “Eww! Really? Use your sleeve, Sault!”

  Amanda sniffed. “Sorry. Allergies.”

  “There are pills for that,” Treena replied haughtily, shaking her hoody as if she had received a bad case of the cooties.

  Amanda rolled her eyes. She gripped Treena’s shoulder. “Come on. There’s probably a hose you can wash up with in the back.”

  It took five minutes to hop the porch, weave through the jungle of bushes and shrubs, and detach themselves from some sharp rose thorns. Squatting behind what Amanda thought was a lilac bush, the two classmates peered out into the backyard. It was massive. Massive and overgrown—like another world existed inside it. They heard something crack behind them. The girls turned around. A disfigured ape-like creature with stringy black hair and enormous fangs teetered over them like it was deciding who to eat first. A bloodied eye—complete with bulbous veins—was perched precariously on its mashed-in nose. Hairy hands sprouted from a long sleeved black shirt.

  “Baahaahaahaa!” it shrieked.

  The girls screamed. Treena grabbed Amanda and pulled her into the closest bush with the thickest foliage. They both squirmed, their feet digging into the ground in a desperate attempt to escape, while branches and leaves snagged their hair and scraped their faces. Amanda flinched as she felt the sticky threads of a spider’s web float across her cheek.

  Through the leaves and gnarled branches, she could see the shaggy beast. It suddenly stopped swaying and slowly shucked off its hairy hands. Then, it reached up to pull off its deformed head. Amanda’s eyes widened. It was Ravi Sharma. He grinned, then winked at them. Amanda clenched her fists. It was time to add a ripe black eye to his real face.

  Jensen and Bailey stood behind Sharma, resembling campy Children of the Corn knock-offs in old plaid shirts and jeans, laughing like a couple of crazy coyotes. Then, Amanda caught a dark, shimmering movement behind the boys. She frowned. Whatever it was had no definite shape, as if it were a demented amoeba. It broke through a clump of waist-high shrubs and landed behind Jensen, Bailey, and Sharma. Treena squealed, hugged her tighter, and pulled them deeper into the bushes. Amanda puffed her cheeks, her arms flailing like branches fighting off the wind. The blackish-green creature thrashed back and forth. Its thin leathery tail whipped about wildly. Two metal claws protruding from its belly lashed out.

  “Eeeyah! Eeeyah! Eeeyah!” it wailed.

  It was the boys’ turn to scream. They were trapped with nowhere to go.

  From deep inside the bushes, Amanda watched Sharma drop his monster mask and bolt through a patch of rose bushes, heading toward a cluster of thick shrubbery covered with twisted vines. Amanda guessed it would have been a perfect hiding place if the branches bent like they did for the breeze. But they didn’t. Instead, he tripped over a root and slammed head-first into the ground. Amanda winced, feeling the whump of Sharma’s landing vibrate through her.

  “Ravi! Are you okay?” Jensen asked, running toward Sharma.

  Amanda pushed her way out of the bushes. She sprinted over to join Jensen. Sharma groaned and rolled himself on to his back, looking like a body in a coffin. A lump the size of an eagle egg protruded on his forehead. Amanda grimaced. Maybe Sharma should put his mask back on.

  He licked his lips, and moaned. “S-S-Sorry, Dad. I-I shouldn’t have put my hand in the machine.”

  “Dad? Ravi, it’s me, Jordan. What are you talking about?”

  Ravi’s eyes flew open. He sat up and pushed Jordan away. “Nothing! I’m good! Leave me alone!”

  Jordan stumbled and backed off. “Hey, I was just making sure you didn’t get a concussion, dude!”

  “Is he okay?”

  Amanda turned to her right. It was Treena, fresh out of the forest with enough leaves and twigs stuck in her hair to start a campfire. Most of her barrettes were missing. Dirt was smeared across her cheeks, and her expensive hoody looked as if she’d found it in a dumpster instead of a high-end clothing store.

  “He’ll survive,” Jordan replied. “Not so sure about his mental state.”

  Treena looked down at him and grinned. “My, you look a little fried after your jog through the jungle, Ravi. How about something to cool you down?”

  Before Ravi could answer, Treena doused him with a bucket of cold water.

  “A-A-Are you crazy, Mui? Do you know how much this hand costs?” Ravi sputtered, covering up his prosthesis. Then he glared at Treena. “You’re gonna pay for that, Buddha-butt!”

  “That’s quite enough!” It was the shiny green creature. And it was standing behind them. There was no escaping now.

  Suddenly, its belly shook, as if getting ready to spill its guts all over them. Amanda prepared to be splattered by green entrails any second. The metal claws savagely tore through the thin tissue, as a human hand appeared to rip away the rest of its skin. To Amanda’s surprise, Ms. Spencer emerged from her ghoulish cocoon, looking very much like the Bride of Frankenstein.

  Ms. Spencer smoothed her witchy dark hair back in place, and then stepped out of her green costume. It had only been a huge, plastic garbage bag along with a couple of three-pronged garden tools for hands and a garden hose for the tail. She wagged her finger at the lot of them, and said, “If you children continue to act no better than wild apes, then I’ll be forced to have a talk with your principal. Do you really want that?”

  Everyone shook their heads. Nobody wanted to deal with Grizzly Greer.

  “Good,” Ms. Spencer said approvingly. Then she looked down and her face turned ashen.

  “Oh…my…goodness!” She swooped down on Sharma. Her long fingers pushed down on his forehead. He winced.

  “Does that hurt?” she asked.

  Ravi scowled and tried to shrug her off, but Ms. Spencer held him like a python. “It does when you poke at it!”

  “Awesome!” Drake blurted. “That’s one sick bump on your head, Ravi!”

  Amanda nodded. “Betcha that’ll leave a mark, Sharma.”

  “Now you don’t need to wear any of your monster masks, Ravi,” Treena said with a smirk. “I’d say you’ve found the perfect look.”

  They all laughed, with the exception of Ms. Spencer. She was still attacking his forehead with her sharp fingernails. Amanda noticed Sharma’s face getting redder and redder, as if he were a volcano about to explode. He finally broke free of Ms. Spencer’s grip.

  “Leave me alone!” he screamed. “I’m a man!”

  “Can we take a vote on that?” Treena asked, putting up her hand.

  Ravi glared at Mui, rolled away from Ms. Spencer, and made an awkward attempt to stand up. Wobbly on his feet, he turned to jump over the shrubs he’d tried to hurdle earlier, but his foot got snagged in the gnarled vines surrounding the shrubs, and ripped off his shoe. He fell again. This time, he managed to tear away a clump of branches from the shrubs. Amanda shook her head. It was like watching Wile E. Coyote trying to escape his own traps. She could almost hear the Road Runner go “beep beep” in victory.

  “Oh! Ravi, are you all right?” Ms. Spencer shrieked, kneeling by his side. She propped him up on
her lap. His damp head came to rest upon her long, tan skirt, and this time, Sharma surrendered.

  Trying not to laugh at Sharma’s karma, Amanda walked over to retrieve his shoe for him, and caught a glimpse of something partially revealed under the mass of greenery. She squinted. “What’s that?” Amanda asked, pointing. “There…under those vines and branches Ravi tripped over.”

  Ms. Spencer looked at what Amanda was pointing at, and gasped. She stretched to pull away some plant debris. Whatever it was, it was made of stone. And it looked as though it had been there a long time.

  “It…It can’t possibly be, can it?” Ms. Spencer whispered, as her brow furrowed and the corners of her eyes crinkled.

  Amanda smelled a sharp humus odor. Her nose wrinkled, but didn’t itch. It was that earthy smell again. She closed her eyes and took deeper whiff. There was decaying freshness to it, as if something was alive underneath the layers of soil. The sound of grunting and huffing brought Amanda out of her sensory stupor. She opened her eyes. Bailey and Jensen were both at work, tearing away the shrubs, branches and vines.

  “Can’t be what?” Sharma asked weakly.

  Ms. Spencer didn’t answer. Whatever it was seemed to have a grip on her throat.

  Treena nudged Amanda and passed her one of the three-pronged garden tools Ms. Spencer used for claws. “Let’s make like Indian Jones and dig this puppy out!”

  Following Treena’s lead, Amanda knelt on the thick carpet of grass and weeds and struck the earth, again and again, digging as if there was a vein of gold underneath them. As more of the stone object was revealed, she noted that strange, ancient-looking symbols were carved all over it. Most of the designs were foreign to her, with the exception of some engraved spirals. Wiping sweat from her brow, Amanda wondered how tall it was. Her height? Twice her height? It was hard to tell. Moss had acted like layers of chewing gum, invading crevices within the stone, while the color, the dirtiest of gray, had a definite dullness to it. It resembled a forgotten tombstone, left to disintegrate with time.

  “Awesome!” Bailey yelled. “This thing must be thousands of years old!”

 

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