The Lost Journal

by Chris Blewitt

  THE LOST JOURNAL

  CHRIS BLEWITT

  PROLOGUE

  In a tent made of shabby cloth and single-braided rope, the General contemplated the difficult decision he was about to make. Only days earlier, the battle was being won, a new order was being formed and finally, peace had been restored to his land. He was tired, his uniform soiled and tarnished from months of battle, and he just wanted to see his family again.

  The General did not acknowledge the four men who had entered the tent just yet. He raised the stone beer stein to his lips and took a long swallow of the dark ale. He wasn’t caught off guard and didn’t defend himself when they entered. He was alerted by his men that the enemy was coming, but he told them to stand down. Better to negotiate than to fight. At least, this time. The dark ale he drank, porter as it had become known, was cold on that dreary, gray afternoon. His men had just completed barreling the brew and he was the first to taste it. Not bad, he thought, although a little too much spruce. It needed time to age.

  The tent was one of hundreds; each positioned approximately six feet apart on the hills of the Schukyill River. The General’s Quarters were not far away, but he preferred to spend time in the field with his men. A small fire burned outside where a few men huddled around, warming themselves.

  The General didn’t offer a drink to his new guests, nor did he offer them a seat. He took the paper that was handed to him and read it slowly to himself. None of it came as a surprise. He’d written the document and all of its intricacies, fine details, and provisions in case the other side did not deliver as promised. He reflected back to the past few years and wondered if it had all been worth it. Should he press forward and continue the battle? He looked outside at the men in his regime: tired, beaten, cold, and hungry. They served him well, but to continue?

  That would be impossible.

  If he could save the country he’d spent his life defending and free her from the enemy, it would be his greatest triumph yet. That meant more to him. He grabbed the quill out of the man’s hand and signed his name on both copies.

  CHAPTER 1

  The dark SUV pulled to the curb across the street from the house where Seth Layton had entered. It was a standard three bedroom suburban house built in the late 1950’s. Cream colored vinyl siding framed a black shingled roof, and a swing occupied one end of a wooden porch. Seth had taken a few moments to find the correct key to unlock the door. He hadn’t been to the house in almost a year and never once needed a key to get inside. Seth always knocked twice, and if the door was open, he let himself in.

  Once inside, he let the screen door bang shut and left the heavy storm door open. Seth tossed the keys on the small table next to the door and took in his surroundings. No one had been to the house since his grandfather left over six months ago. Now it was his job to start cleaning the house and getting it ready to be put on the market. His grandfather was not coming back anytime soon. The living room to his right held a small couch and leather recliner. Both faced a TV that dated at least twenty years. It was one of those TV consoles that was twice as big as it needed to be on which people placed flowers or pictures on the top and definitely not HD compatible. Seth had spent many a night watching the Phillies on that TV, curled up on the couch while his grandfather, or Granddad, as he was called, sat in the recliner, hoping for a Phillies victory.

  Seth went through the dining room and into the kitchen. He had a lot of work ahead of him. He’d contemplated whether to hold a yard sale or put everything on Craigslist. That would’ve meant too many pictures to take and upload, so he decided on a yard sale which was to take place the following morning. He took the day off from his job as a mortgage broker to tag everything in the house. The yard sale was listed in the local paper, and he had made a couple of signs to put on both sides of the street.

  He went back out to the car to get his overnight bag and almost came to a stop as he walked down the few steps toward the driveway. Across the street in a SUV, he swore he saw a man in sunglasses put the passenger window up. He walked toward the driveway and let his gaze drift to the SUV as he walked. No movement, no sound, nothing. Why was a man sitting across the street from the house? Now that he thought about it, it had to be two men, one in the drivers’ seat too. If they thought the yard sale was that day, why didn’t they come to the door?

  Seth grabbed his bag from the backseat and went back into the house, this time shutting the storm door and locking it. He peeked through the living room curtains; the SUV was gone. He was relieved and almost felt silly as he thought about two men watching his granddads’ house.

  The phone vibrated in his pocket startling him. “Hey Dad.”

  “Seth, how’s it going? Did you get to the house yet?”

  “Yeah, I just got here now. I forgot how much stuff is still here.”

  “You can take some stuff for your place you know.”

  Seth looked around at the outdated furniture. “I’m good, but if I see anything I’ll take it with me.”

  “Sorry I couldn’t help you but it’s the club championship this weekend.”

  Poor excuse, Seth thought. His dad lived in St Augustine, Florida, miles away from Philadelphia. He moved down there after Seth’s mother died three years earlier, and since he only worked part-time as a consultant for an airline, Seth’s dad spent most of his time on the golf course. “It’s fine, I can handle it.”

  “I appreciate it, let me know how it goes tomorrow,” his dad said.

  “Okay, I will.”

  “Oh and Seth, don’t forget to check the attic. Remember how to get up there?”

  Seth had forgotten the house even had an attic. He’d only been up once as a teenager to help get Christmas decorations down. The attic wasn’t where most attic entrances were. To get there, he had to go through the master bedroom and into a small closet. From there he had to find the small entrance in the side of the wall, not in the ceiling.

  “Oh yeah, I forgot about the attic. Is there anything up there?” Seth asked.

  “I’m sure there’s a few things people would want to buy.”

  “I’ll take care of it. I’ll call you tomorrow after the first day of the sale.” Seth hoped to sell most of the things on Saturday and not have to lug everything out on Sunday too.

  “Sounds good. Thanks again, son.”

  Seth hung up the phone and went upstairs to the bedroom closet to locate the entrance to the attic. It took him a few moments to pull back the rack of musty clothes and find the small cutout in the wall. To any other person, the attic would be impossible to find. It was a three foot by two foot cutout in the wall with a tiny space to slip your fingers in and pry the piece of drywall out. Seth squeezed through the small entrance and felt around for a light switch on the wall. He couldn’t find the switch, but his head bumped into a string hanging from the ceiling and he pulled it until the light came on. In front of him were five wooden stairs that led up to another small door in the ceiling. Seth climbed the steps, pushed open the hatch, stepped up into the dark attic. He found another light and turned it on, illuminating the attic.

  The floor was covered with plywood. Seth walked across the wooden beams to a stack of ten cardboard boxes. One by one, he opened each box and fished through its contents. He found a dozen things that he would take downstairs to sell. When he was finished, he walked around the small space to ensure he didn’t miss anything. He was about to turn the light off when he stepped over a spot on the floor that seemed loose. Seth bent down and noticed a small cutout in the plywood about the size of a deck of cards. He pried out the small piece of wood and peered inside the dark space.

  At first he couldn’t see anything so he reached his hand in and felt around. His hand landed on a small metallic box that
was tucked inside the pink insulation. He pulled the box out and stared at it. It was the size of a matchbook with a clasp on the front. Seth opened the box. Inside was a key attached to a small chain. It wasn’t an ordinary house key, it only had two grooves on it and the number 641 was imprinted on both sides. He shrugged his shoulders, put the key in his pocket and went back downstairs.

  Seth didn’t notice, but the SUV was back outside the house a little farther down the street. Its occupants kept the windows up this time.

  CHAPTER 2

  The morning drew eager bargain hunters from all over the neighborhood making the yard sale a small success. The previous night, Seth stayed up until almost midnight pricing everything, and then woke at six to move everything to the front yard. The couches and bedroom furniture he left inside. He figured if anyone was interested, he’d bring them inside the house to look. He guessed he made almost three hundred dollars so far and that didn’t include the two people that said they were coming back for the large pieces of furniture.

  A male voice from behind said, “Excuse me, is this an antique?”

  Seth looked at the item in question. It was a small chest, about three feet around, made of some kind of vinyl or leather.

  “I’m really not sure,” Seth replied.

  He glanced at the man who held the chest and locked eyes with him. His face was small but chiseled. He was in his mid-forties and had a clean-shaven head. Unlike the day before in the SUV, this time the guy was not wearing sunglasses.

  “Hmm,” the man said, “I’m looking for an antique, something really old.”

  Seth’s fear of being watched was confirmed. Who was this guy and what did he want? “What you see out here is what I have to sell.”

  “That doesn’t help me much. Maybe you have some books to sell?”

  Seth pointed behind him and said, “The books are over there.”

  “I’ve looked through those books.” The guy leaned in closer. “How about some really old books?”

  Seth stepped back. “I only have what’s out here, sir.”

  The guy smiled and laid the chest down on the table. He stared at Seth a few moments and then walked away.

  “What was that all about?” a voice said.

  Seth turned halfway around and saw a short blonde-haired woman walking around the table to face him.

  “Huh?” was all Seth could manage. He was surprised at the woman’s interjection, but when he got a good look at her, he was pleasantly surprised. She had sunglasses perched on top of her straight blonde hair and her green eyes locked on Seth’s.

  “That guy, what was he asking for, some books? Sorry, but I couldn’t help overhearing the conversation.”

  “I’m not really, sure,” Seth replied. “Is there anything I can help you with?”

  “Yeah, these two lamps,” she said. “They’re priced at ten dollars each. I’ll give you ten for the pair.”

  Seth considered the offer but was more interested in her than the sale. He stole a quick glance at her left hand and noticed no ring on her finger. “I’ll tell you what; I’ll make you a better deal.” Seth looked around at his dwindling yard sale and waved his arm. “The sale ends pretty soon and I could use some help lugging this stuff back into the house. If you help me wrap this yard sale up, the lamps are yours.”

  She smiled and contemplated his offer. “Let me think about it.”

  Seth was about to say something when she stopped him. “I’ll be back in an hour if I decide I need the lamps.” She smiled and started to leave.

  “Wait, what’s your name?” Seth asked.

  She turned toward him and said over her shoulder, “Madison.”

  “I’m Seth, hope to see you again.” He enjoyed watching her walk away in her tight camouflage pants and white tee shirt with a silver heart design on the front. He hoped to see her again.

  The day came to a close and the only things that remained outside were a few books, a couple of small tables, some cookware, and of course, the two lamps for Madison. The large bedroom and living room furniture was still inside. At this rate, Seth felt he wouldn’t put anything outside on Sunday. If the people didn’t come back for the furniture inside, he’d put them on Craigslist.

  His phone buzzed in his pocket and he picked it up. “Hey dad.”

  “How’d it go today?” his dad asked.

  ‘Good, most of the stuff sold,” Seth replied.

  “Great, keep the money. I appreciate you doing this for us.”

  “Dad?” Seth considered asking about the key he found or about the guy that came around asking for some personal books of his granddad’s.

  “Yeah?”

  “Um, nothing, it’s just that I may not have to do the sale tomorrow. There’s only about fifteen things left besides the furniture in the house. I’m just going to put them on Craigslist.”

  “Okay, that’s fine. I gotta run. Thanks again.”

  Seth wondered if his dad knew about the key he found but decided he should ask his granddad first. As the last of the buyers left the front yard of the house, Seth looked up and saw Madison walking down the street carrying a brown bag. He smiled. When she approached he said, “I saved the lamps for you.”

  Madison walked over and set the bag on the table. “I kind of figured you would. Want a beer?” She reached into the bag and pulled out two Sierra Nevada’s and handed him one. I figured your refrigerator was empty.”

  “Thanks. You must live nearby, I didn’t see you pull up in a car.”

  “Yeah, I live about two blocks away. I’ve never seen you around so I take it this isn’t your house?”

  “No, it was my grandfather’s,” Seth replied. “He’s in a home in Malvern. He started losing it about a year or two ago and he wasn’t able to live on his own. I’m really his only family around here, so it’s my job to get the house ready for sale.”

  Madison changed the subject. “Alright, what do you need me to do to get those lamps?”

  “If you could just give me a hand bringing this stuff back inside, the lamps are yours. Thanks for the beer, are you hungry? We could order pizza.”

  She shrugged her shoulders. “Sounds good.” She took a long swallow of beer and set it down on the table. Seth grabbed a pile of books and went inside the house to order the pizza. Madison folded up a small card table and followed him inside.

  After about thirty minutes, the front yard was clear and the pizza had arrived. Seth sat on the couch, Madison took the recliner and they ate their pizza. He found out that she worked at the bank a few blocks away. Most of her family lived across the Delaware River in New Jersey. The Phillies game was on the TV in the background and they led 4-1 over the New York Mets in the fifth inning.

  After the pizza was finished Madison got up from the chair. “Well, I better get going,”

  Seth was disappointed but didn’t want to ask her to stay longer since they’d just met. “Oh, okay,” he said.

  “Thanks for the pizza,” she said.

  “No problem, thanks for your help.”

  She grabbed the two lamps from the floor. “Thanks for these too.”

  “Anything else you’re interested in you can have,” Seth said.

  She looked at the old couch and chair and smiled. “I don’t think these would fit in my place.”

  Seth laughed and said, “I don’t blame you.” He followed her to the door. There was an awkward silence. “Well, I guess maybe I’ll see you around. Tomorrow I’ll probably be around cleaning out the house.”

  “Okay,” Madison said. “See ya.”

  He watched her walk down the front steps and saw her turn at the sidewalk and continue down the street. He’d forgotten to get a phone number, but at least he knew where she worked. Seth went back inside, finished off his beer and opened another one. He sat back down on the couch and watched the rest of the Phillies game. After some thought he decided the next day he would pay his granddad a visit. He needed to know about the key in the attic.

  CHA
PTER 3

  After a long day and a full stomach, Seth had crashed on the couch and awoke early the next morning with the TV still on. He hopped in the shower and was out the door in less than thirty minutes. He stopped at the local convenience store, Wawa, and grabbed a cup of a coffee and a muffin. When he walked out of the store and back into his car, he saw the SUV again, idling across the street. The window was up and the glass was tinted making it impossible for him to see inside.

  Seth made a decision: he would not be followed to his granddad’s nursing home. He backed his car out of the lot and drove past the SUV going the opposite way. He almost cursed them out his window when he passed, but instead, he stuck his middle finger up. At the next street, he turned left and checked his rearview mirror. The SUV pulled a u-turn.

  His car, a black Chrysler Sebring, was certainly not the fastest car on the street, but he thought he could make quick turns better than the SUV. At the next street he made a right-hand turn, then another at the next street. He then made a left and was back on the main road where he could pick up speed. A couple of cars filed in behind, and he didn’t see the SUV trailing him. The nursing home was still fifteen minutes away and he knew a lot of back roads to get there. At the next major intersection he turned off and decided not to take the freeway. Still no sign of the SUV, he was in the clear, for now.

  Harper’s Grove Retirement Home was twenty miles outside Philadelphia, located three hundred yards down a narrow tree-lined street. Once you reached the end of the road a large courtyard was revealed, complete with stone statues and water fountains. Beautifully manicured grass, hedges and flowers covered the landscape. A circular driveway led to a four-story building. Seth drove his car around to the front and continued to the left of the building where staff and guests parked their cars. He never saw the SUV again but that still didn’t convince him they weren’t out there looking for him.

  He got out of the Sebring and moved to the building’s side entrance. There was a buzzer on the door. He pressed it twice.