“Our place was part of Kellingham’s farm way back when. It’s on our closing papers for the house. Earl said our houses were built at the same time and used for sharecroppers. Eventually the sharecroppers bought themselves out and a piece of the farm at the same time.”
Kevin said, “And ‘the approximate spot of the mine was three miles south of the great Kellingham farm.’ And then later in the article it says, ‘when the railroad was built across the southern section of Oscar’s farm he didn’t object’.”
“And the town built up around the railroad,” added Tom suddenly understanding, “We live three miles south of the railroad tracks.”
Kevin nodded, “So, according to legend, the lost Rumilure Mine should be in your backyard.”
“And according to what I just read, that’s what Sylvie wants. The jewels, the power, and the shack. The shack was built around the mine, but the shack’s gone.” Tom flicked the red journal, “At least according to this it is.”
“I heard about an old shack. Something about a hag and powers and stuff,” Said Kevin.
“That’s it. Probably the same one.”
“If we found the shack, we could probably do Locum Tenens on our own. The power is in there,” Said Kevin.
Tom looked at him questionably.
“I mean Mutatis Mutandis, if we want to go backwards.” Kevin clarified.
Tom shook his head, “We could try to find the shack. But, I say we catch Sylvie and figure it out from there.”
“What do you propose? We can’t force her to do the spell.”
“Sure we can,” Tom said.
Kevin raised his eyebrow, “I know you hate her, but I’m not going to torture someone over it.”
“No, I didn’t mean that,” Tom clarified, “It might work just from her presence. You know? Just because she’s there. She might not need to say anything at all.”
“There’s more to it than that,” Said Kevin, “She’s got to participate somehow.”
“I’m willing to try anything,” Said Tom.
Kevin stared at him, “So, that’s your plan? Catch Bridgette and hope for the best?”
Tom glared, “Sylvie, that’s not Bridgette. And I say ‘yes’ we catch Sylvie and figure it out.”
Kevin silently stared at the laptop screen.
He nodded, “Ok, I said I was with you and I am. But on the ‘know thy enemy’ note. Here are a few things about our friend, Sylvie.”
Tom was impatient, “C’mon, man. Enough already. Let’s just go.”
Kevin looked at him patiently, “This will only take a second and who knows you may learn something helpful from it.”
Tom was impatient to get started. He looked at his watch. It was already 6:00. He felt like time was slipping away faster than ever. He looked at his friend. My friend who’s knee-deep in this with me. If it wasn’t for him I wouldn’t have had anywhere to go and I’d be trying to figure this out on my own.
Tom sighed and said, “Go on.”
Kevin clicked at the keyboard, “It’s coming in bits and pieces, but this is what I got so far: Sylvie and her mother Teresa showed up in Kranburg when Sylvie was about six years old. This is based on what I’ve seen on later articles. I’ve found nothing on her birthdate- which is weird because it’s not even listed on her obituary.
“So it looks like Teresa died when Sylvie was about seventeen years old. This I got from Teresa’s obit. But, here’s another weird thing, no one seemed to know Teresa’s last name. When she died, according to the church record, Reverend Tilley asked Sylvie what their last name was, Sylvie shrugged and said ‘Doe’. The Reverend noted this in the record only because he was concerned that Sylvie might be ‘confused in her despair and grief’ and he says he will continue to visit with her.
I found a newspaper article that was published before Teresa died. It’s talking about how fast the town is growing and is basically bragging about the abundance of local businesses. It lists every business owners first and last name, except for the seamstress who’s only listed as ‘Teresa’.
Kevin clicked the keyboard again, “Now here’s something else. Teresa and Sylvie are never mentioned in the census records. But they should have been, because they lived, and ran the seamstress business out of a house in town, so they should have been included in the census.
“But later, Richard Sterling is listed in the census with a wife name Sylvie and a two year old daughter named Molly- that’s from the 1910 census. It’s the only one that name’s Sylvie at all. Richard is named in three, with 1910 being the last.
Kevin cleared his throat, “It looks like from the year 1907 until 1911, Sylvie was quite the fashion trendsetter. There are many pictures and articles about her. Back then newspapers raved over society things like that. She was named the top fashion icon of Kranburg for 1908 and 1909. The ‘top fashion icon’ title was changed in 1910 to ‘trendsetters’ and she was listed as one in 1910 and 1911.”
Kevin clicked some more, “And that’s about it. I can’t find a birth record for Sylvie nor any marriage certificate to Richard. And I can’t find a birth record for Molly.”
Tom looked puzzled, “Isn’t that normal, though, for old records to be lost or not online yet?”
Kevin nodded, “Yeah, that’s probably it. I can find a lot of birth records from back then though. And supposedly the local marriage certificates are online all the way back to the 1880’s. It’ll show up. Or I can probably find it at the courthouse. You want to see a picture of her?”
No, Tom didn’t want to see a picture of her.
“Yeah, I suppose,” He said as he walked over to Kevin.
Tom peered at the screen. Sylvie was in profile with her face turned towards the camera. Bridgette was right, she looked evil. In the grainy black and white photo, her eyes were white. She had a hint of a sly smile.
Tom stared at the computer screen. The next tab said ‘Sylvie Bridgette…’
Tom pointed and said, “Open the obituary, I want to see something.”
Kevin clicked the tab open. It was the same obituary Tom had read in his kitchen a million years ago.
‘Mrs. Sylvie Bridgette Boswell-Sterling peacefully passed June 22nd 1912
Today was the 19th. A horrible realization dawned on him. He started for the door and said, “Let’s go. We have to catch Sylvie and switch them back before Bridgette dies on the 22nd.”
Kevin leaned back while Tom opened the door, “Where are we going?”
Tom stared at him, “To my house, c’mon.”
Kevin sighed, “We gotta have more than just a plan to ‘catch Sylvie’.”
Tom started to protest and Kevin held up his hands.
“We’re going to go. But we need to take some things with us, like rope or something. We can’t just pick her up and throw her in the car. She’s going to fight us. Even if there’s two of us, we’ll need something to restrain her with.”
“Good idea, you got any rope?”
“And,” Kevin continued, “Think this through, step by step. You’re plan is to ‘catch’ her. Ok, but how? Chase her around the house? Hope she’s in the house? Does she have your gun? We don’t know what we’re walking into.”
The absurdity of the plan and its many holes became apparent to Tom. He needed to think this through. They could save Bridgette, but they needed to be smart about it. He took a deep breath and forced himself to relax. Logical- he needed to be logical. He needed to think this through logically and carefully. And Kevin was right- she might have a weapon.
Tom closed the door, crossed the room and sat down on the couch.
He glanced at Kevin’s notebook, “Can I use that?”
“I’ll get you another one. We’ll need them for notes.”
Kevin came back and handed Tom a blue spiral notebook.
Tom flipped it open and jotted a few things down. He drew arrows from ‘Bridgette’ to ‘Sylvie’ and back again. It was nothing more than doodling, but it helped him slow his thoughts.
He blew ou
t his breath, “Ok, first thing. I last saw Sylvie in the house. I’m going to assume she’s still there.”
Kevin raised his eyebrows.
Tom raised his hand, “I know, I know ‘ass out of u and me’ but we gotta start somewhere. Second thing, we can assume she’ll look for the book. Bridgette moved it and Sylvie will want it. Also, she’s going to want to find the Rumilure mine.”
He wrote ‘house’, ‘book’, and ‘mine’ down.
“Now, she might know a little about life in 2012, but she’s not going to know much. I don’t think she’ll go far from the house. She’s cunning and smart. She won’t be dumb enough to go too far until she understands the culture better. Or thinks she does.”
Kevin nodded in agreement.
Tom underlined ‘house’ and ‘mine’.
“Now, we gotta have everything we need with us when we show up. I’ve got stuff there, but we can’t assume we can use it. We’ll have to arrive prepared.”
Tom wrote down ‘Kevin’.
He looked up and grimaced, “It wouldn’t take long to find my .357 in the nightstand. We’ll assume the worst- that she has my gun.”
He shook his head and wrote down ‘sylvie’ and ‘gun’.
“We also need to assume that she’s got Bridgette’s purse, which means of course Bridgette’s ID, and since she looks like Bridgette she’ll be able to use it. But I think we have time before that happens.
He wrote down ‘ID’.
Tom took a deep breath, “I’ve seen her in real life. I’ve read what Bridgette wrote about her and I’ve read Sylvie’s own journal.” He paused, “She’s evil. Like a demon. That makes a lot of this a big unknown.”
And he wrote ‘evil’ and circled it a few times.
Kevin spoke up, “She’s human. She’s an evil person, but she’s only human.”
Tom shook his head, “Maybe she used to be human and she might still be part human, but I saw her and what I saw wasn’t… good.”
He paused. “I feel it in my gut.”
And he couldn’t explain any better than that. He just knew, with a surety beyond a doubt that she was not ‘only human’.
Kevin silently walked out of the room. When he came back he set something in front of Tom. It was a 9mm handgun.
Tom looked at him questioning. Kevin shook his head, “Don’t ask. I’ve got one too.” He said as he lifted up his shirt and showed Tom the holstered pistol. “What else do we need?”
Tom looked at the gun. It was loaded and ready to go.
Kevin tossed him another clip.
“Rope? Something to tie her up with,” said Tom still peering at the pistol, “and we’ll need to gag her.”
Kevin left the room and came back with two rolls of duct tape, shrugged and said, “I don’t have any rope, but you know duct tape fixes everything.”
“I’ve got rope at the house. We can use the duct tape to hold her and then the rope if we need it.”
“Sounds like a plan,” agreed Kevin.
Binding and gagging Bridgette was a revolting thought. Tom had to remind himself it wouldn’t be Bridgette they were going to catch. It would look like her, but it wouldn’t be her. And this will be worth it to bring her home.
Kevin watched him expectantly.
Tom set his notebook down next to the box. He stood placing the Locum Tenens book and the two journals in the box, picked it up and said, “Let’s go.”
“Why are you bringing the box?”
“When we catch Sylvie I want to do the Locum Tenens shit as soon as possible.” Explained Tom
“But if we take the box with us, what if she gets a hold of it while we’re there?” Kevin raised his hand at Tom’s withering look, “Not that it’ll happen, but don’t you think the box is safer here? If- I mean when, we catch her, one of us will come get the box right away. The five minute drive won’t hold us up.”
Kevin added, “And we’ll know the box is safe, if we lose the box-.”
“Ok, I got it, you’re right,” said Tom as he set the box down. He looked at it with longing, “But we get it as soon as we catch her. I don’t want this to take any longer than it has to.”
Kevin handed Tom the duct tape and pulled out his keys, “Ready?”
“Yeah,” Said Tom tucking the pistol into the back of his pants, “Let’s do this.”
Come out, Come out, Wherever You Are
The men were silent during the short drive out of town. As he turned on the road that led to Tom’s house, Kevin speculated out loud, “I wonder how she’ll adapt? To go from the simplicity of 1912 to the complex world of today… I wonder how she’ll do it?”
Tom looked disgusted, “She doesn’t have to worry about it, because we’re sending her back.”
Kevin glanced at him and looked back towards the road, “I wasn’t implying she needs to stay. I am intrigued by the thought of how somebody would adjust to such an extreme change. I mean with cell phones and TV’s…. It’s a lot to take in.”
Tom shrugged and looked out the window, “She talked to some guy. He told her some things before she killed him. I guess she could start with that.”
Kevin glanced at him again, “Some guy?”
“Yeah, the hag told her about some guy who had done the Locum Tenens thing. The poor sap who ended up in his place got put in the looney bin for a while. Sylvie tricked him into talking and he told her about the future. Then she killed him.”
Tom grew silent and then muttered under his breath, “Crazy bitch.”
Kevin stared straight ahead in silence and finally said, “Interesting. I’ll have to read the journal. Is that the red one?”
Tom nodded. Up in the distance, he could see his house coming into view. Every window blazed with light.
His heart pounded. “Looks like she’s there,” He said as Kevin pulled into the driveway.
Kevin turned off the ignition and the two men looked at each other. Tom felt the pistol digging into his back. He clenched the duct tape and opened the car door.
They walked up the sidewalk. As they approached the front door, Tom wondered what they would do if it was locked. “Bust it down,” was his first thought, followed quickly by: “or try the back door.”
He smiled to himself. He promised not to go all Rambo. It would be nice to get Bridgette back AND have the house in one piece. But he would do whatever it takes.
Kevin was watching him as they stood at the door. Tom pulled out his gun and Kevin did the same. Tom turned the door knob. The door swung open easily.
“No one will know! NO ONE!” Shouted a woman’s voice.
Tom and Kevin froze.
An orchestra of violins played. A man shouted back, “No one? How can you be sure?” The orchestra music rang out followed by a wailing siren.
“Freeze! Police!” Shouted a different man’s voice.
“TV,” mouthed Tom to Kevin who nodded.
Cautiously, the men walked into the living room. The TV was on full volume. Books littered the floor. Pages of newspapers draped the couch and chair. CDs and DVDs were scattered on every available surface. Both lamps blazed along with the overhead light. The ceiling fan blades were a blur.
Tom reached up and pulled the cord. The ceiling fan slowed. Kevin timidly picked up a sheet of newspaper and let it drop. Tom pointed to the hallway at the closed bedroom doors. They glanced in the kitchen as they went by. It was a jumble of items, but they didn’t see Sylvie.
Tom motioned to the bedroom door and held his palm up to Kevin in a ‘wait’ motion. Kevin nodded. Tom opened the door and rushed in with his gun drawn. Scattered clothes covered every inch of space. Tom’s heart dropped when saw the nightstand drawers were open and empty. Tom pointed and shook his head. Kevin’s shoulders slumped in understanding.
Tom cautiously looked under the bed and shook his head. He opened the closets. Empty hangers greeted him. Shirts and dresses were crumpled and mixed up with shoes. Tom turned to Kevin and shook his head again. He walked to the door and the
y went to the hallway leaving the door open. Kevin guarded the hallway while Tom rushed into the spare bedroom. He quickly looked around the jumble of opened boxes and scattered items. He opened the closet. He shook his head at Kevin and joined him in the doorway.
Kevin took a quick look in the bathroom. He pulled the bath curtain to reveal the empty tub, looked at Tom and shook his head.
They walked carefully through the living room. Sirens blared from the TV. The sound of crashing cars followed them into the kitchen.
Any and every kitchen appliance was on the counter. Bread poked out of the toaster. Shredded paper filled the blender. A jar of peanut butter sat next to a can of chili. An empty crockpot teetered close to the edge.
Kevin pushed the crockpot further onto the counter and looked around. Tom walked to the table where the laptop sat in its familiar spot. Two remotes sat in front of it. He picked one up, saw it was for the TV and set it back down. Clanging jail cells blared from the living room.
He motioned Kevin over to the closed cellar door. He pointed to himself and wiggled his fingers in a ‘walking downstairs’ motion. He pointed to Kevin and mouthed ‘stay here’. Tom opened the cellar door. The light was already on. He descended the stairs.
A quick look around the main room revealed no one. He went to the small iron door, pulled it open, and quickly thrust his gun in. Upstairs he could hear the shouted lines of a trial followed by violin music.
His heart pounded as he poked his head into the little room. It was empty. A jumble of bricks surrounded a small hole near the back wall. She already looked for the book. A small twinge of triumph fluttered through him. She’ll never find it. He thought as he pulled the door shut.
He glanced around the cellar as he walked toward the steps. He shook his head at Kevin’s quizzical expression and went back up to the kitchen.
“She’s not here!” He shouted at Kevin over the sound of glass shattering from the living room. He picked up a remote, walked into the living room and clicked the power button. The TV went silent. He set the remote on top of the newspapers littering the coffee table and looked around.
Kevin turned a slow circle around the room and said, “Wow. Looks like she’s figuring things out. As in ‘let me push all the buttons and see what happens’.”
Sylvie Page 16
