Relics

by K. T. Tomb

  Peter was at a loss for words, but he also knew that sending Phoe out into the world like that wouldn’t benefit anyone. “Okay, fine. Spread your wings, Phoe. I get that, but let me at least help out by letting you stay here until you can fly on your own. Can you let me do that?”

  Phoe tried to stay angry, but she did need a place to stay. At least for a couple of days. “Okay. Just until I rise out of my own ashes.”

  Peter smiled. “Fine. Until you rise out of your own ashes it is.” He pulled his keychain out of his pocket, removed his extra house key, and handed it to Phoe.

  Reluctantly, she took it. “You have an extra house key?”

  “Just for emergencies,” he replied nervously. “In case I lose my keys. I have an extra one.”

  Phoe laughed. “You’re such an idiot, Peter! You have both keys on the same keychain! If you lose one, you lose them both!”

  He was just happy that he could make her laugh in her darkest hour. “Alright. I admit that I had hoped that you would eventually need or want to stay here. That’s why I made an extra key.”

  Phoe stopped laughing. “You didn’t set fire to my place so that you could have me stay over, did you? Because I’ll kick your ass right now if you did.”

  His tone became more serious. “No. I would never do that. Look, if it’s any consolation, I’ll be leaving tomorrow afternoon, so you can have the place to yourself for as long as you need it. See? I trust you!”

  Phoe got up in his face as she smirked. “I’ll stay here for a little while, but if I were you, I would make it a habit of not trusting anyone.” Then she grabbed his head and planted a kiss on his lips.

  Chapter Four

  Early the next morning, Peter checked and double-checked everything that he had packed for his journey. He was proud of the fact that he was going on his own adventure… without Phoe. As he passed her sleeping soundly on the sofa on his way to the refrigerator, he realized that without the thrill of the hunt against such a fierce competitor like her, his adventure would be somewhat lackluster. Although the pay would help to keep his interest and his head in the game.

  He grabbed some bottles of water from the fridge, stuffed them in one of his suitcases and then walked over to Phoe. She didn’t argue when he suggested that she sleep on the sofa. She didn’t question him at all, which was fine by him. There was no way he could have her smell permeate his sheets and pillows. It would drive him wild. He didn’t need that, especially with how she felt about him at that moment.

  She hated him.

  He could feel it. He wasn’t going to do anything to make it worse. He knew that her anger was justified. He had kept important information from her. Surely, she wouldn’t do anything to get revenge. He let her stay at his place; that alone should have been worth something.

  He heard a car horn just outside his house. He looked questioningly out the nearest window and saw a black limo parked in the driveway. He sighed, pulled his keychain out, and took off his spare set of house keys. He placed them on top of Phoe’s phone, which was lying on his coffee table.

  Peter then crouched down beside the sofa and stared at Phoe. She looks like a sleeping angel. He couldn’t believe how beautiful she was… when she wasn’t yelling at someone.

  The car horn sounded again. This time it was one long tone, as if the driver just placed his hand on it and wouldn’t let up.

  “I’m coming,” he said quietly. He grabbed all of his bags and clumsily opened his front door. Where is the driver to help me? He dropped the bags on his porch and then looked in toward Phoe, then closed and locked the front door and picked his bags up again.

  Peter stumbled toward the limo. The isn’t even open for me! He dropped his bags by the back door and stormed up to the driver. He tapped on the glass as he gritted his teeth. The window slowly rolled down. There was a woman with dark sunglasses on sitting in the driver’s seat. She had her hair pulled back tightly into a ponytail.

  “Yes?” she asked, oblivious to what he could possibly want to speak to her about.

  Peter tried to contain his frustration, as he was not really a confrontational person. “Excuse me. You are the limo driver. Yes?”

  She said nothing.

  He tried to force a smile. “I believe it’s your responsibility to give me a hand with these.” He paused for a moment before he continued; she was a woman, after all. “At the very least to come out and help me with the doors. Maybe pop the trunk so I can get the bags put away in there.”

  The driver removed her glasses. She had angry blue eyes. “Are you handicapped? Mentally ill? Unable to function normally for any medical reason?”

  Peter looked confused. “No. Is that a—”

  Before he could finish his thought, she rolled up the window as she said, “Then do it yourself. I’m busy.”

  Peter was more than shocked. He mumbled as he dragged his bags back to the passenger door. He opened the door, placed each bag in the car, one by one, and then closed the door.

  The partition between the driver and passenger slowly came down. “Please buckle up,” the driver said as the window immediately changed directions and closed tightly.

  Peter looked at the driver information posted on the car door. He was surprised when he actually saw a picture of the she-beast driver, smiling. He looked at the name so he could report it to Simon later.

  Abigail.

  ***

  Phoe had been up for hours.

  She just didn’t want to talk to Peter any more than she had to. She had slept in the same outfit that she wore to her award ceremony. She didn’t want to give Peter more to sweat about, so she had kept her clothes on. As soon as he had closed the door behind him, she had sat up, snatched the keys from on top of her cell phone and put them in her pocket. Then she pulled out the cell phone that Simon gave her from her jacket pocket and stared at it. She reluctantly checked for messages and found there were forty-seven voicemails from Simon.

  She didn’t even have to listen to them to know that he was sorry for involving her, promised to make it up to her, and so on and so forth. She walked over to the garbage disposal in the kitchen and stuffed Simon’s phone down as far as it would go. She then turned the water on and flipped the switch.

  She smiled as the grinding was a reminder that her collaboration with the billionaire was over. She knew somehow, he had caused her current dilemma and Peter didn’t help either when he had withheld important information. She was alone and she knew it. Phoe could just hear her mother in her head. Even though the last time they were together her mother had seemed supportive, all it would take is one piece of negative information for the same old speech to resurface. I told you that treasure hunting wasn’t worth it.

  It was time that Phoe put everything behind her and start over. Like a phoenix.

  She washed the clothes she had on and took a long, hot shower. It didn’t help. She couldn’t wash away the previous night, but she could make it better. She had a plan.

  As soon as her clothes were dry, she got dressed. She also decided that bad things happened when she put her hair up, so she let it hang down around her shoulders as she usually did. She used Peter’s brush and shivered with each stroke. She had to use his blow dryer as well. Never understood why men use them. She had no makeup, but she wasn’t trying to impress anyway. She called a cab and headed for the first stop. The hospital.

  ***

  Captain Sampras and Pam greeted Peter warmly as he headed up the stairs of the private jet. The captain rushed to his aid and assisted him with his bags. “You seem well prepared, Mr. Kellerman.”

  Peter smiled. The captain obviously knew how to treat people. “Thank you, Captain, but please, call me Peter.”

  “Welcome back,” Pam said. “We’ve added all of your drink choices to our menu for the time that we’ll be in your service. If you need anything, please don’t hesitate to ask.”

  “It’s your show, Peter,” the captain said, after setting the last bag in the storage closet.
“Where to?”

  Peter was extremely proud to offer the captain an answer because of the research he had done concerning his mission. “Well Captain, our mission is to locate the lair of Beowulf. It somehow made sense to me that if you consider that the original epic poem consisted of 3182 alliterative long lines, it would be easy to deduce that our destination could lie at 31 degrees north and 82 degrees east. So, let’s go there.”

  Captain Sampras tried to hide his confusion. “I appreciate your attention to detail, Peter, but all we need is the actual destination. Any other information can be sorted out between you and Mr. Kessler. It would be helpful for you to understand, though, that 31 degrees north and 82 degrees east are not proper coordinates. Do you have the extra information?”

  Peter looked disappointed. “No. I don’t.”

  “Okay, well then, is there an alternate destination?” the captain asked, without trying to be condescending.

  Pete perked up. “Yes! Yes, actually there is! Captain, take us to London, England!”

  Captain Sampras winked at Pam, who tried to hold back her laughter. “London, England it is, Peter!” he said, as he went to the cockpit.

  Pam waited for Peter to seat himself in front of one of the computers, before she approached him. “You might want to keep your passport ready, so you can get through customs quickly when we reach London.”

  Peter’s smile faded as realization hit him. “Oh… shit.”

  Chapter Five

  Phoe held onto Charlotte’s hand while she smiled weakly. Charlotte looked at her with pride, as if Phoe was her own daughter. “I can’t believe what a strong young woman you’ve become. Your mother is so proud of you. Look at you, about to take the world by storm.”

  Phoe laughed. “How could you know what I’m about to do?”

  “Oh, heavens,” Charlotte replied, chuckling. “I never said I knew anything about what you’re planning, but I know that look. You have the same look that your mother had when she took control over her own life.”

  Phoe stopped laughing. “She lost her heart along the way, Charlotte. I don’t ever want to lose my passion for what I’m doing. I just want to do it on my terms.”

  “And you will,” Charlotte responded with a look of pride. “You are on the cusp of something really big. Soon, you will be able to do whatever you want to do without answering to anyone.”

  A tear rolled down Phoe’s cheek, as she carefully hugged Charlotte. “I guess you would know me better than anyone, Charlotte. I’ve tried to work with other people; make believe that the things they sent me chasing after were the things I wanted to look for. I even put on a smile while I pursued things that no one in their right mind would have.”

  Charlotte grabbed Phoe’s hands and tried to readjust her position. “Oh, these hospital beds are so damned uncomfortable. So, let me see… there were the Tears of Osiris, the Sword of Perdition, the Head of Olmec, The Hammer of Thor, and the Spear of Destiny. Whew! Ha-ha! That’s an impressive resume! What is it this time?”

  “The lair of Beowulf,” Phoe replied quickly, as if she anticipated the question.

  Charlotte waved her hand around. “That’s just silly. Everyone knows that it was Grendel’s lair.”

  Phoe laughed as she kissed Charlotte’s head. Her peripheral vision caught hold of something on the muted television in Charlotte’s room. She saw the word ‘Beowulf’ pop up on the screen.

  She grabbed the remote on the tray next to the bed and hurriedly turned up the volume. “…holm, Sweden where Kadan Alexander just announced the newest upgrade for the original computer known as Beowulf…”

  A twenty-three-year-old man walked up to a podium where several microphones were set up. He was thin and had a thin black mohawk on a predominately bald head. He had a nose piercing and several ear piercings. The young man wore a black T-shirt and a blue denim jacket and expressed himself with his hands a lot when he spoke. He didn’t look anything like a computer expert.

  He tapped the microphones and cleared his throat. “Hello everyone! I’m not used to speaking in public, but let’s get right to it. Yeah? My name is Kadan Alexander. That is K-A-D-A-N. Write it down and make sure it’s spelled right for the papers and stuff. The original Beowulf computer was built in 1994 by two innovative men, Thomas Sterling and Donald Becker from NASA. Sterling is not related to the Jodie Foster character in Silence of the Lambs, by the way.”

  He stopped to laugh at his own joke and then cleared his throat again. “Since then there has been the Cluster and the Microwulf and some other stuff that I have not personally worked on, so I’m not going to mention those. What I am going to tell you is that I’m going to rebuild the Beowulf. Why, you ask? I can’t tell you unless you have top security clearance. So, don’t ask. I can also say that my research has been funded by the generous hottie, Symone Armette of Armette Transportation. Hey, I just thought of something! Symone is marrying some guy named Simon! Ha-ha! That’s all for now.”

  Phoe turned the volume back down as she stared at the television screen, deep in thought.

  Charlotte tried to sit up in her hospital bed. “I know that look too, Phoe. Do you need my car?”

  “No, Charlotte,” Phoe replied, still in thought. “I really appreciate your offer, but I need to handle this alone. It’ll make me stronger without having to rely on anyone. I have a few more errands to run before I go to Sweden.”

  “There’s more than enough money in the Simple Treasures bank acc…” Charlotte broke off. She couldn’t even say the name of the business that had been burned to the ground without tearing up.

  Phoe grabbed some papers that she had set on the tray when she first entered the room. She handed them to Charlotte. “Here’s the paperwork for the insurance coverage that I had on Treasures.”

  Charlotte’s eyes widened as she looked the papers over. “Oh, dear no! How long have I been the beneficiary if anything happened to the store?”

  “Since you first started helping me,” Phoe replied, as she sat down gently on the bed next to Charlotte. “The insurance money is yours. Of course, it depends on how good the arsonist was. If they were really good, then the fire marshal should see it as an accident and you should get the insurance. I also want you to take all of the money in the bank account and give the employees a nice severance package. The rest is for you.”

  “I can’t,” Charlotte exclaimed, as she started to cry uncontrollably.

  Phoe started to cry as well. “You can and you will, Charlotte. My mom has more than enough money and Eric was taken care of by Simon, so that just leaves you. You need to take it… for me. Please.”

  Charlotte grabbed Phoe’s hands. “What about you? You need some money. How are you going to get to Sweden?”

  The side of Phoe’s mouth turned up with a smirk. “I believe the opportunity is right under my nose. It’s time that I learned to fly on my own.”

  “Like your namesake,” Charlotte said.

  Phoe stood up. “Exactly like my namesake.”

  Chapter Six

  Peter had just returned to the jet after retrieving his passport. He had mixed emotions about not finding Phoe there. He had hoped that she would recover from losing Simple Treasures, but he also saw that as an opportunity to be there for her. He wanted to show his support.

  As he entered the jet, Pam’s smile seemed more out of pity than anything. He ignored her and headed straight for his seat. After fastening his seatbelt, he went right to work on the computer. He already knew where he was going after London; he just wanted to give Pam the impression that he was plotting his next move online. It was clear that his little staff of two were under the impression that he was way out of his depth. He glanced up every once in a while, and watched as she secured the door and then disappeared behind the curtain that led to the cockpit.

  Pam entered the cockpit as Captain Sampras checked his equipment in preparation for take-off. “Are we all set, Alan?” she asked the captain.

  “As ready as we’ll eve
r be,” he replied with a smile. He noticed that Pam had a look of concern. “I take it you don’t think that our passenger is prepared to fly solo.”

  Pam sighed. “What do you think? The poor guy forgot his passport, Alan. Ha-ha!” She couldn’t help but laugh, as she placed the back of her hand gently against her mouth.

  He felt justified in laughing once she had started. “Ha-ha! I’m sorry; it’s just that Peter is trying too hard to be Phoe’s replacement instead of doing things his way.”

  “Maybe he doesn’t have a way,” she blurted out.

  Captain Sampras nodded in agreement. “That’s why I contacted Jonathan. He agreed to meet up with us in London. Maybe he can help out.”

  “Good idea,” Pam replied. “Don’t get me wrong. I like him and I wish him the best, but we all need help at one time or another, whether we know it or not.”

  He let out a playful growl. She giggled as she left the cockpit.

  ***

  Simple Treasures was all Phoe’d had. She’d put everything into the store. It was one of a kind, because her personality had been emblazoned into every square inch. It was more than just her livelihood, it was her home. Homeless. She didn’t like anyone having to use that word, let alone her. She didn’t like the prospect of having to live it.

  She stood in front of the dark patch of scorched wood and replica artifacts. There was fire scene tape all around what was left of the place.

  Several police officers milled around, preventing anyone from contaminating potential evidence, if it was deemed to a crime scene. One of the officers approached her. “From the look on your face, I would think it safe to assume that you are the owner.”