Beyond Smallville: Gold Wing

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Bumping up the story for the holidays and Smallville's hiatus.

Thanks to all the fan fic readers who welcome Gold Wing / Laura Lake into the Smallville Universe.

thanks
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Teaser - Gold Wing

Hi all,

Thanks for reading about Laura Lake / Gold Wing.

In 2010 look for Laura to get more involved with the Smallville regulars, and eventually join Oliver and Clark's fledgling Justice League. She still has to earn her way into the elite crime-fighting force.

In early 2010, Laura will solo in a story with far reaching Smallville implications.
Keep reading! and Thanks!

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Gold Wing cont'd

Kara hefted Geoff Carlin over one shoulder and zipped away. They cleared the burned farm field section, and silently made their way to an old darkened farmhouse. It looked like it had been abandoned for a while. Laura, as Gold Wing removed Mike, saying that she could speed him to the medical center much faster than awaiting an ambulance.

The kids watched in awe, as Gold Wing seemed to disappear. Laura quickly located Kara and Geoff. The girls stood side-by-side assessing Mike’s mental state. “We should get Mike over to the hospital, those could be severe burns.” Kara mentioned.

Laura tore parts of Mike’s burned clothing away. She gasped. Mike hadn’t a burn mark on him. “Either Mike is extremely lucky, or …not entirely human.” Kara swallowed hard as Laura sat down on the ground. “Why didn’t he tell me?” She lamented.

“For the same reason we don’t tell anybody about us?” Kara asked rhetorically. “Couldn’t this be good for you two? I mean now you both have something to hide.” She continued. “I guess.” Laura hesitated. “That depends if he can remember what happened tonight.”

“I wonder if Mr. and Mrs. Trent know?” Laura wondered aloud. “Mike? Can you hear me?” The boy just stared vacantly at her, conscious but not aware. “I’m going to have to take him home. Mr. and Mrs. Trent will have to sort this out.” Laura decided.

“What do we do with Carlin?” Kara asked. “He did cause the fire at the gym, and attempt to kill Mike and I. He’s obviously unstable. He could hurt someone, or himself.” Laura sighed. “The police would be no match for him. I’m going to try Chloe.”

“I’ll take him back to Smallville.” Kara offered. “Only Clark and I can control his powers. Maybe we can take him to see Dr. Emile Hamilton. He has experience with meteor freaks, or whatever Geoff is.” Laura nodded. “I’ll zip Mike home to his parents, but we have to show up at the party for a few moments so the kids won’t involve the police.”

The girls grabbed the guys and sped off in opposite directions. Kara dropped Carlin off at Clark’s barn loft, after informing him of the dilemma. Laura zipped back to Mike’s house, and stealthily carried him into the house and upstairs to his bedroom. Luckily, the Trents were asleep.

Laura set Mike down in his bed, undressing him to his underwear. “This isn’t exactly what I had in mind for our date tonight.” She quietly said, sadly kissing him on the forehead before zipping off. James and Marian Trent weren’t asleep. They watched worriedly from their bedroom window as Laura sped away. “We have to find a way to help Mike.” Marian sighed.

“Maybe this girl can help.” Jim said. “She isn’t exactly normal either. Who do you think she was?” Marian shrugged. “I couldn’t see her face, but somehow she looks familiar. I think its wishful thinking or blind faith that clouds my vision.”

“Me too, honey.” Jim said as he hugged his wife, and then headed back to bed. “In any event, Mike will have to deal with this. All we can do is be there for him, and help if we can.” Mike slept restlessly that night, but in the morning he seemed fine.

The tired teen wandered down to breakfast with his family as he did every morning. The conversation would come eventually, Jim and Marian knew from past experience.
After dropping Mike and Geoff off, Laura and Kara returned to the party briefly. They left as soon as they could. Kara sped back to Smallville after kissing Tim on the cheek. Laura went home to rest, and consider how best to deal with Mike.

Laura slept uneasily, deciding not to confront Mike at this time. She instead wanted to head back to Smallville to discuss things with Clark, and possibly Chloe. Geoff and Mike could both present a danger. As far as she knew, Mike had never been in trouble with the law, though that could change. Geoff had already committed some crimes.

Late the next morning, Mike gave Laura a call. She’d been preparing for a discussion all night. “Hi Laura, how are you?” Mike opened warily. “Mike, are you feeling better? You seemed kind of out of it last night.” Laura began gently. “Yeah about that. I’m sorry. I wasn’t myself. Can I make it up to you?” Mike gallantly volunteered.

“Possibly.” Laura hinted. “First, you need to tell me what’s wrong.” She pushed. “Wrong?” Mike gulped. “Yes, wrong. Are you on drugs? Did you drink too much? Just tell me the truth.” Laura prodded. “I uh…have like a disease.” Mike stuttered. “Sometimes, I just don’t act right.”

“Okay. I get that.” Laura said calmly. “Have you seen a doctor?” Mike should’ve expected that question. “I uh…can’t.” He swallowed hard. “You’re afraid of the doctor?” Laura allowed. “No. There’s nothing they can do for me.” Mike hedged. “Are you sure?” Laura probed.

“Yes Laura, I’m sorry.” Mike replied sadly. “I understand if you don’t want to see me again.” Laura wouldn’t let it go that easily. “No Mike, you’re going to face this.” She said sternly. “I have a friend who knows a doctor that’s completely trustworthy.”

“But how? I mean, I can’t. No one knows.” Mike stammered. “Mike, listen to me.” Laura stopped short of telling him the truth about her. Something mentally stopped Laura from revealing any more. She suddenly felt that she couldn’t trust Mike. He seemed to be in denial.

“I’m sorry, I can’t.” Mike decided stubbornly. “Fine!” Laura snapped. “I’m going to give you the phone number of this special doctor. If you want to get some help, you can call him. It’s your decision. Don’t expect me to wait around for you.” Laura snarled.

“You know what you must do.” Laura said with finality. “Here’s the number.” She gave it to him, but also sent it in an E mail to his computer, and wrote it down on a piece of paper, intending to mail it to him. He’d have to be the one to decide his fate. She just wanted to give him every opportunity. “Call me sometime, Mike, but not until you’ve gotten some help.”

Laura hung up on him, shedding some tears as she did so. Why didn’t she want to tell her oldest friend the truth? It aggravated her stomach, and her Loracite level was beginning to slow. She could feel herself tiring. Laura settled down for a long nap.

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The Mystery of Burntwood Manor

Gold Wing The Mystery of Burntwood Manor

Scene: Falcon Claw – The local teen hangout, ‘Feldon’s Ice Cream & Soda Shoppe’

Laura Lake, frustrated by Mike Trent’s reluctance to seek help, had turned to Clark Kent for support. He’d been very helpful, but their budding romance had hit a snag. Laura had decided to return home and straighten out some aspects of her life.

Now eighteen, Laura had inherited a decent amount of money from her deceased parents. They’d had the foresight to begin a trust fund at Laura’s birth. After a painful summit meeting with her Aunt Wanda, Laura had set up a bank account in her name.

Laura been offered a job at her Aunt Wanda’s hardware store, but she’d politely refused. That still left a gaping hole in Laura’s life. She needed to get a steady income to support her new dual life as Gold Wing slash Laura Lake. Nothing had come to mind yet.

‘Clark, I intend to make a difference with my life.’ Laura’s last words to her could be beau, rang through her head. ‘I was given these gifts, and I intend to use them.’ She’d added, before passionately kissing him goodbye.

After her stint in Smallville and Metropolis, Laura was glad to be back at Feldon’s Ice Cream & Soda Shoppe. Tim Servo greeted her at the door. “The prodigal daughter returns.” He remarked sarcastically. “How was life in the big city?” Laura shrugged. “Busy.”

“I missed you.” Laura said as she hugged Tim. “I seriously doubt that.” He countered cynically. “I’m quite sure Clark kept you amused.” Laura snickered. “Oh yeah! Though it seems that Clark and I have reached the end of our little tryst.”

Instantly, Tim’s mood lightened. Laura flipped her lengthy raven black hair over her shoulder. “Already?” Tim was ecstatic. “Yes.” Laura said as she sat down at their favorite white metal antique table near the window. Tim joined her presently.

“Clark is nice. In fact he’s more than nice. He’s nearly perfect.” Laura wallowed as the young waitress, Brandy, came up to take their orders. “Hey Brands, I’ll have a double cherry belly buster.” Laura smirked. Tim chuckled. “The same!” Brandy laughed. “Tough day, eh?”

The sandy brown haired sophomore was easily the best waitress Feldon’s had. “The toughest.” Laura replied. Brandy had her finger on the pulse of the entire local teenage population. She worked the most hours, gathered the most tips, and knew all of the latest gossip.

Brandy left and Laura continued, ready to drown her sorrows in the massive high calorie dessert. “Clark and I made out at his new Metropolis condo apartment, just a few blocks from downtown.” Tim winced. “You’re over sharing again.” He complained.

“Clark said that he’s not ready to move on, and now there’s a new wrinkle. He has his sights set on an ace reporter at the Metropolis Daily Planet named Lois Lane.” Laura whined. “Ooh! I can see your claws! Hiss! Hiss!” Tim teased. “Clark has all of these miraculous powers, yet he hides them from the world.” Laura added. “I want to put mine right out there.”

“You, however, want to take over the world?” Tim quipped. “Of course.” Laura smirked. “Someone has to. Actually, I may be onto something big.”
Tim folded his hands in front of him. “Do tell! I’m intrigued!” Laura glanced around warily. “Last evening when I was hauling my curvaceous butt back to Falcon Claw from Smallville…” Tim snickered, interrupting her. “I see that your confidence hasn’t been damaged despite the defective Clark Kent.” He sniped. “Anyway…” Laura watched Brandy approaching.

“I have to check with Aunt Wanda first, but during my hyper speed jog, I noticed a good-sized mansion on the island in the middle of Crater Lake. It was built halfway into the side of the hill. Legend tells us that Crater Lake was formed by a partial hit by a comet, thousands of years ago.”

Laura continued: “Hence the name Comet Creek, and the cause of the availability of my Loracite stash. The Loracite, that you determined was non-organic, likely came in on the comet chunk.” Tim nodded. “Go on.” Laura waited for Brandy to distribute their food, drinks, and utensils.

“The mansion looked abandoned. There were no lights on the island anywhere, no vehicles available, and no signs of any soil disturbances recently.” Laura added excitedly. Naturally, Brandy was way ahead of them. “Are you guys talking about Burntwood Manor?”

Laura figured that as the eyes and ears of Falcon Claw, Brandy would know something about everything. “Yes, actually.” Laura admitted. “Burntwood Manor has been abandoned since the nineteen seventies.” Brandy informed them. “The family may still own the property, but for whatever reason, haven’t been back to visit it.”

“Thanks, Brandy.” Laura said. As the young waitress walked away, Laura continued. “The Loracite deposits run from the Tekamah caves, beneath Comet Creek, and wait for it…” She teased. “The vein runs straight out to that island, and below Burntwood Manor.”

“So?” Tim was puzzled. “You know, Tim Ster, for a genius, you can lack a certain vision at times.” Laura chastised him. “I purchase Burntwood Manor, and voila! I get all the Loracite I could ever ingest, a sound financial investment, and a cool place for…”

Laura quieted as a young couple past them by. “A cool place for Gold Wing to put her lair.” Tim’s eyes lit up. “That’s brilliant! Laura, you are a goddess!” He gushed. “Thank you, sir.” Laura took a long slurp of her ice cream soda.

“So, being eighteen, without a source of income, how do you plan to pull this off?” Tim was always a realist. “Two words, Tim Ster: Trust Fund.” Laura smacked her ruby red lips together from the dripping cherry syrup. “Is it enough capital?” Tim was already making a mental calculation. “That depends on the sale price, assuming the family wants to be rid of it.”

Tim agreed with Laura. “That actually makes sense. Would your Aunt Wanda go along with it?” Laura shrugged. “I’ll have to appeal to her business sense. You know, be practical, invest in some real estate, yada, yada, yada.”

“She might think that I just want to turn it into a party house.” Laura reasoned. “I’ll have to give her a big speech about being responsible, and not shirking my duties to her farm and hardware store.” Tim took a big gulp of his ice cream soda. “Sounds like a plan.” He commented.

Laura’s positive mood began to falter as she recalled her discussions with Clark. She wanted to share in his future, and he hadn’t shown any interest in doing so besides the obvious lip locking events. Tim noted his best friend’s sudden sullen attitude. “The farm boy got you down, eh?” He fished. “Clark? Yeah, I’m bummed about it.” She admitted.

“Are you done with your long distance romance now?” Tim prodded. “It appears so. I guess that it just wasn’t meant to be.” Laura confessed. “Should I kiss you now?” Tim asked half seriously. “No Tim! I do not need a kiss!” She pretended to be angry. “Fine. Your loss!” Tim joked.

“Aside from my limited romance, it was cool to tackle evildoers in Metropolis!” Laura tried to cheer herself up. “Gold Wing kicked some serious ass! Though I’m most interested in keeping our Loracite deposits safe from prying eyes, I also found out that there are a number of conspiracies out there. Gold Wing will be needed soon enough.”

“Wow! I’m impressed.” Tim laughed. “For example, three or four major players are working in advanced genetics research, with or without government approval.” Laura’s excitement level rose as she spoke. “How about these names? Rowland Chemicals, Luthorcorp, WayneCo, and Worthington Industries are all involved legally or illegally in stem cell research and beyond.”

Tim whistled. “Those are some big names.” Laura nodded. “That’s just what Clark, Chloe, and their other friends came up with. I found out about Rowland Chemicals on my own. There’s even some politics involved.” Tim was on the edge of his seat, slurping soda quickly.

“Senator Kent, Clark’s mom, went toe to toe with some of Luthorcorp, and Rowland Chemicals’ cronies. They were politicians in the corporation’s pocket, and a slew of lawyers to boot. As a staunch Conservative, I can’t be too happy about stem cell research, but I do see the need for it on occasion.” Laura rambled. Tim grinned. He loved any type of controversy.

“Are you joining the Tea Party Movement?” Tim inquired. “You betcha!” Laura smiled. “Now that I’m eighteen, I can vote, and if I buy Burntwood Manor, I’ll be a taxpayer as well.” Tim nodded. “That’s sensible. One vote, one idea!” Laura gave him the thumbs up, sticky as they were. Tim was thrilled that Laura was back and paying attention to him.

He’d missed her terribly, that long month that Laura spent in Metropolis and Smallville. To maintain appearances, Laura had zipped back from Kansas every night, and left every morning when her Aunt Wanda went to the hardware store.

“What’s our first move, Goldie?” Tim joked, rather than calling Laura Gold Wing. “First, I have to see if Burntwood Manor is up for sale on the listings, and go from there.” Laura replied. “If I can pull all this together, Gold Wing will have a new superhero base.”

“Back to this conspiracy theory of yours.” Tim swiftly changed subjects. “How do you plan to combat all of these business moguls as Gold Wing?” He dropped his voice at the end. “I’d love to just go in there and start busting heads, but legally, I don’t have a clue.” Laura admitted. “WayneCo and WorthingtonCo are basically clean, based on Chloe’s information.”

“Rowland Chemicals and Luthorcorp are the exact opposites, filthy as they come.” Laura informed him. “I’m not just jumping at shadows, or building conspiracy theories. You should see Chloe’s research facility that she calls Watchtower. State of the art tech, you’d be in mega geek heaven.” She quipped. Tim smiled. “Where’s the end game, though?” He wondered aloud.

“Ultimately, if all four companies succeed, we could be looking at a genetic mutant war.” Laura said as the chills ran up and down her spine, and they weren’t from the ice cream.

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The Mystery of Burntwood Manor cont's

Chapter 2 - Burntwood Manor

After their meeting, Laura and Tim separated. He was busily studying the Loracite that Laura had dug out of the base of Comet Creek. He hadn’t been able to isolate the foreign mineral’s specific properties. Tim had identified most of the elements, those common to Earth, that had mixed with the Loracite. That left several unknown elements. Those were the ones that had mutated Laura.

Laura had headed home to check in with her Aunt Wanda Jenkins. She whipped her overnight bag into her room, and zipped back downstairs to join her Aunt at dinner. Laura filled her surprised Aunt in on her master plan, minus the Loracite infection of course.

“That’s quite a huge step, Laura.” Aunt Wanda cautioned. “Are you sure you want to make that type of a financial commitment at your young age? A house isn’t like a new bike, or even a new car, it will require a lot of work.” Laura already knew this, but let her Aunt state her case.

Laura promised her Aunt that it wouldn’t interfere with running the family farm, or Wanda’s Hardware Store. After all, Laura could work both properties in less than ten minutes at hyper speed. Wanda was still reluctant, stating that Laura should use the trust fund for college.

“I can take on line classes, Aunt Wanda.” Laura debated. “If I had to, I can go to Falcon Claw Community College for testing.” This seemed to satisfy Wanda’s requirements. “That’s great, honey. If the Burntwood Manor property is for sale and reasonably priced, I’ll have Judge Harrington draw up the claim deed for us. He’ll probably require that I cosign for it.”

Laura hugged her young aunt, and silently wished, for the first time, that she’d been honest about her abilities. Maybe one day soon, I’ll break the news to her, Laura considered. By then, Tim may have figured out what caused the DNA reorganization, and check if it was reversible.

After Aunt Wanda went to bed, Laura called Tim, Clark, and Chloe to give them the good news. Naturally, Clark was nowhere around, but Chloe responded by text, and returned her call later on the next day. Aunt Wanda had gathered a number of her things.

Laura wandered into her aunt’s bedroom and cast her a puzzled glance. “Hey honey.” Wanda glanced up from her suitcase packing. “Why so sad? You know Robert and I have been planning this little mini vacation for a while. It will be half business, and half fun.”

Laura had completely forgotten about Wanda’s vacation with her new boyfriend. “I’m trusting that you will hold down the fort this weekend?” Wanda sat on the bed next to Laura. “You know the rules, no wild parties, no strange boys in the house at night, and I gave you a simple list of basic chores to do. Please check on the hardware store if you can.”

Laura nodded absently, lost deep in thought. “Oh don’t worry about any parties or boys, I’m not exactly Miss Popularity.” Laura added sourly. “Aww!” Wanda rubbed Laura’s back. “You’ll find the right guy one of these days. In the meantime, after your chores, why not take Tim and Shana out to the beach? The weather’s supposed to be nice this weekend.”

Shana Springbrook was one of the few female friends Laura and Tim had. They’d met in high school, and kept in occasional contact with each other. To this day, Laura had only shared her secret with Tim. Shana was from a well to do area west of Falcon Claw. The other kids had dubbed that subdivision as Brat Flats.

“Maybe we’ll do just that.” Laura said, as she also considered bringing Tim and Shana along to investigate Burntwood Manor, though it would slow her down, it sounded like fun.
Soon after that, Robert picked Wanda up for their business slash pleasure extended weekend. Laura watched them go with some envy.

She put aside those negative thoughts quickly. Wanda was only in her mid thirties, and had already given half her life to caring for Laura. She was entitled to a relaxing, romantic break as much as anyone else was.

Tim called shortly thereafter. “You have the whole house to yourself? You’re not having a wild, out of control, house wrecking, delinquent party?” He joked. Laura wasn’t amused. “I doubt if you, Shana and I qualify as home wreckers, Tim.” She replied sorely.

“I was thinking of heading down to the Crater Lake beach tomorrow.” She began. “You, Shana, and I could sun and swim, and then investigate Burntwood Manor.” Laura offered. “That sort of works, except that I can’t swim out to that island, let alone climb up the side of a rocky hill.” Tim reminded her. “Details, details!” Laura smirked. “Shana’s cousin has a boat in the lake.”

Shana’s older cousin, Brianna Simon, had offered to run the kids out to the Crater Lake island cove, provided she could do some fishing. The twenty-year-old college co-ed happened to be on spring break. Rather than head down to more popular sun, surf, and alcohol binge areas like Ft. Lauderdale, Florida, the Graphic Arts major decided to stay close to home and save money.

The next morning, Laura and Tim had managed to dig up some public data on Burntwood Manor. The property taxes hadn’t been paid since 1975. This meant, that the local government had taken possession of the property in lieu of payment. The last owner, Lucia Mathias had sold the mansion through foreclosure hearings. As of now, the manor was listed as up for auction.

It was a typically humid spring morning as the kids met Brianna at her family’s boat, the Simple Simon. She was already stocking the thirty-foot Sea Ray with fishing gear and had packed a decent lunch. Brianna was not a drinker, so there was no danger of alcohol related trouble.

They set out in midmorning for the island cove. Tim quickly found that he detested fishing, as did Shana. Laura, by the way, was thoroughly enjoying her first attempt with the hook, line, and sinker. Tim’s amusement revolved around the way the girls were dressed.

The petite, blonde haired Shana, wore a pink and maroon bikini, not to be outdone, raven black haired Laura had chosen her favorite royal blue bikini, and the taller, stockier brunette, Brianna, opted for a common black, low cut, one piece suit. Tim stood out in his loud multicolored swim trunks, and a tacky multicolored Hawaiian shirt.

Despite the obvious distraction of the scantily clad girls, Tim was still silently going over the latest data set in his head involving the particle makeup of the Loracite. He hadn’t yet separated all of the various elements within the Loracite samples.

After some more lame attempts at fishing, Tim settled near the front of the Simple Simon, sprawling out on its foremost deck. Laura couldn’t resist giving him some grief. “Gee Tim, this officially makes you our ‘bow bunny’.” She playfully taunted. “Take your shirt off and catch some rays.” Shana added her teasing as Brianna snickered.

“Great.” Tim groused. “Did anyone catch anything?” Brianna shook her head. “Nope. Nothing larger than a horsefly had been biting.” She quipped. “It’s probably too late in the day. The best fishing is usually in the early morning.” Laura shrugged. “Sorry.”

“No biggie.” Brianna replied graciously. “We can always cast some lines near sunset as well. Sometimes the fish will head up to the surface as the lake water cools.” Suddenly, there was a distant rumbling of thunder. “Or not.” Shana put in. “Hmm! Not liking that approaching storm.” Brianna watched the darkening horizon carefully.

“Aww!” Laura sighed as she watched a quick flash of lightning. “Do we have to go back in?” Brianna tried to determine which way the storm was heading. Where they were, the bright sun was still beating down on their rapidly reddening skin. The humidity had gone up substantially.

“Let’s just keep an eye on that squall line.” Brianna reassured the skittish teens. “This time of year, these little thunderstorms pop up frequently. They might peter out, or head away from us, based on the wind direction. As of now, the storm is across the lake from us.”

“Actually, it’s officially lunchtime.” Laura urged them. “Can we anchor near the center island?” Brianna was hesitant. “I’m not sure. Are you kids up for some rowing? The breakwater is probably to shallow for the Simple Simon to move in much closer to the isle.”

“We can handle it.” Laura smirked, knowing that she could row them across the entire lake and still not break a sweat. Still, for Brianna and Shana’s benefit, she had to maintain appearances. Besides, Tim could certainly use some exercise. Her eyes sparkled as she glanced at him.

“What?” Tim noted her mischievous look. “C’mon Tim, help Brianna and I toss the rowboat over the side.” Laura directed. “Not just yet.” Brianna chuckled. “Let’s move in as close as we can to the breakwater. We’ll drop anchor there.” She gestured towards an out jutting rock formation at the island’s southernmost edge.

“We might just as well cast a few lines by the rocks.” Brianna suggested. “The fish love feeding on the below surface algae and moss.” She baited two hooks as Tim stared at her wide-eyed. “What’s the matter, Tim, never see a girl bait a hook before?” Laura teased her best friend.

“It’s just that girls usually think that fish, insects, and worms are yucky.” Tim defended as Brianna laughed heartily. “How else would I catch the fish, with lipstick and nail polish?” She gibed. “No, I s’pose not.” Tim reddened, and it wasn’t from the bright sunshine.

Shana sat next to Tim. “Are we having fun, yet?” She asked cynically. “Oh yeah! The open sea, beautiful women by my side, mosquitoes the size of airplanes, you betcha.” Tim playfully sniped. As Laura and Brianna cast their lines into the surf near the rocks, Tim dragged Shana into a lengthy philosophical discussion.

He’d been informing her about his latest theories on evolution. Shana, though bored, listened politely. “Okay, if man evolved from apes, why aren’t the apes still evolving?” Shana finally countered, becoming a nearly even match for Tim.

“What do you think, Laura?” Shana asked. “Huh?” Laura hadn’t been paying them much attention. “I think that you are all talking so much, you’re scaring the fish away.” Brianna jabbed in fun. “We might as well drop anchor now and eat.”

Brianna cranked up the twin 350 motors, guaranteeing that any fish would flee the area. She moved in as close as she dared to a pathway near the craggy, rocky edge of the cay. Laura checked on the thunderstorm, and it seemed to grow in size and darkness. Lightning crackled against the greenish brown horizon.

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The Mystery of Burntwood Manor cont'd

Chapter 3

“Okay kids, here’s the deal.” Brianna began. “That storm is moving in our direction. We’re not going to make it back to shore before it hits. It looks like we’ll be lunching in the Simple Simon.” Laura sighed with disdain. She could, of course, investigate the manor on her own, but it wouldn’t be nearly as fun as dragging Shana, Tim, and Brianna up to the antique building.

“We could check out that mansion over there.” Laura suggested, learning quickly how to manipulate her friends. “Isn’t that private property?” Brianna narrowed her eyes in a squint against the ever-increasing wind gusts. “No. I already checked it out. It’s up for sale in auction.” Laura admitted. “Also, isn’t the Simple Simon too close to the rocks in these gales?”

“Good point, Laura.” Brianna agreed. “Okay. New plan. You’ll get out here, and take your extra clothes and lunch pails up towards the manor. I’ll back the Simple Simon off, and anchor her along the lower, rock free beach area near the breakwater.”

“Thanks, B.” Shana said, anxious to get off the boat as soon as possible. The thunderstorm now filled a full quarter of the sky behind them. The weather beaten pathway up the incline to Burntwood Manor zigged and zagged through some rough patches of brush.

Clearly, the Mathias family hadn’t bothered to pay for or encourage any upkeep of the property. The paths were crooked and rocky, with intermittent odorous weeds popping up from every direction. Tim, Shana, and Laura glanced behind them and located the Simple Simon.

Brianna had guided the fishing boat to a rock free area as she’d stated. The winds began to whip the medium sized boat to and fro, and Brianna had her hands full dropping anchor and tying her down. Eventually, she secured the family pleasure craft, and painstakingly rowed ashore.

Excitedly, Laura led her friends up the path towards the property. It wasn’t fenced off in any way. Clearly, the owners hadn’t been expecting any random visitors. The old mansion looked to be in a serious state of disrepair. Windows were blackened with grime and mold, some were cracked, and the antique wooden frames had some points of damage and rot.

“Lovely.” Shana remarked cynically. “Aww! The mansion just needs some tender loving care.” Laura defended. “Or a wrecking ball.” Tim added sarcastically. Behind them, lightning crackled across the sky, and the gale force winds stirred up small funnel clouds of dirt, pebbles, and assorted other debris. The arched doorway was off center but still in tact.

Laura approached the double doors, which looked to be made of mahogany or ebony. “Should we knock?” Shana asked nervously as the first few drops of rain pelted them. “I suppose, but it’s most likely abandoned.” Laura replied as she knocked heavily on one door scattering spiders and dust. The door hinge creaked open as a gust of wind blew up from the cay.

“That’s creepy.” Tim gulped. “No, that’s an invitation from the spirits.” Shana joked. “Nice!” Laura snickered. “That saves us the trouble of breaking and entering.” She quipped. “There’s still the matter of trespassing, Laurie.” Tim reminded them.

“I suppose you’ll find out eventually.” Laura’s eyes gleamed. “What? What will we find out?” Tim’s voice rose in panic. “That this mansion is haunted.” Shana teased. “No!” Tim swallowed hard. Laura laughed as they crossed the threshold. “No. That I talked to Aunt Wanda, and I’m considering the Mathias Mansion as an investment property.”

Shana and Tim stared at her blankly. “Did you win the lotto this week?” Shana commented. “Nope. I just glanced at it on line and saw that it was in foreclosure.” Laura answered. “I can put a bid on it when it comes up for auction next month.”

Shana’s big blue eyes widened. “Why?” Laura surveyed the huge great room that they had stepped into, closing the creaky door behind her. “It would be fun to have a place of my own, don’t you think?” Laura responded. “Uh, you would spend half of your life repairing it, and the other half paying for it.” Shana criticized.

“Don’t be so negative, Shana.” Laura said as she glanced at a nearby wall checking for a light switch. Most likely, the electricity had been turned off or it would start a fire she second-guessed. “I’m stronger than I look.” She added as her eyes went violet.

Tim coughed, aware that Laura had never told Shana or Brianna about her extraordinary powers. The curious teens wandered into the center of the foyer. “Ooh! Look at that chandelier!” Shana praised. The ceiling bowed slightly beneath the weight of the huge Tiffany style chandelier.

“That’s probably an antique and is worth a fortune.” Tim remarked. “Not if it falls on top of us and kills us.” Shana was back to being negative again. Laura glanced up at the multilayered decoration. Shana did have a point, she mused. Item one, secure the chandelier, Laura noted.

“Lets walk closer to the walls away from the chandelier.” Laura suggested sensibly. As their eyes became accustomed to the dark, the teens noted the large double staircase leading to the second level, and a smaller staircase leading to a third story.

“Neat decorations.” Shana said, eyeing the twin gargoyles at the end of each staircase’s railings. “I love them.” Laura beamed. Each gargoyle was a least two feet high and nearly as wide. “Yeah, great decorating style, sort of like early Amityville Horror.” Tim sniped.

“This is great! I can totally see myself living here.” Laura twirled in place. “You know, Laurie, this place does seem to suit your personality.” Tim remarked dryly. “All you need is to install a bat cave beneath the basement and you’ll be all set.”

Shana giggled, but Laura was already considering that possibility. Except that it would be called the Bird Cage or something, she mused silently. Gold Wing would definitely need a secret facility, especially if I intend to direct the Loracite flow straight here, she thought.

Just then a particularly nasty streak of lightning hit the water nearby, followed by a roaring, rolling thunder. “Yikes!” Shana gasped. “Storm’s here.” Laura deadpanned. “Do ya think?” Tim scowled. “I take it there’s no electricity.” He added.

“I’d be afraid to turn it on.” Laura admitted. “We’ll have to settle for lighting the old fashioned way.” She walked over to the sooty fireplace mantle, and grabbed the antique candelabra. It had seven partially burnt candles on it. “I didn’t bring any matches.” Shana whined.

“Never fear.” Laura joked, as she whipped out a cigarette lighter, and lit each candlewick.
“Terrific!” Tim grumbled as another flash of lightning and the subsequent explosive thunder rattled all the windows in the old mansion. “Now all we need is for Dracula, Wolfman, Frankenstein, and the Mummy to appear.” Laura chuckled but Shana was ashen white.

“Quiet Tim, you’re going to give Shana nightmares.” Laura said half seriously. “Relax Shana, it’s only an old house in need of repair.” The skittish girl nodded absently. Some shutters slammed together startling Tim and Shana. Laura made another mental note: Replace or repair window shutters, check electricity, heating, and plumbing.

“Okay, where do we want to explore next?” Laura asked exuberantly. “We should just stay here.” Tim volunteered. “We’re not getting wet, and we were going to eat lunch, remember?” Laura sighed. “Fine. You two can stay here and scare each other. I’m going to check on my potential investment.” Shana and Tim exchanged glances. “Hell no!” They said in unison.

Laura guided them towards a large room to their left. It had huge double doors, likely made of Oak, with intricate carvings along the doorframe woodwork. She pushed open the heavy doors and entered what appeared to be a library. Three full walls of the room were covered with shelving, completely filled with old, dusty, books.

“That’s odd.” Shana marveled. “Why didn’t the last occupants take the books with them?” Tim laughed maniacally. “Ha! Ha! Ha! Because they’re still here…at least in spirit!” Laura cracked up but Shana wasn’t amused. “Shut it, Tim!” She snapped.

“I’ve got it!” Laura announced. “It was Colonel Mustard in the Library with a Candlestick!” Tim snickered. “Nice one, Laurie!” Shana stared at them like they’d lost their minds. Apparently, the well to do Shana from Brat Flats had never played nor heard of the game called ‘Clue.’

Adding to the mystery, the library was fully furnished, including three expensive looking desks with Tiffany reading lamps, two leather couches, perhaps brown in color, though with the thick layer of dust on it one could barely tell, and two bluish colored chairs placed near the blackened fireplace. “They didn’t take their furniture?” Tim was baffled.

“How long did you say that this place had been vacant?” Tim questioned Laura. “The last known owners left in the nineteen seventies. Since then the mansion was held up in probate court, and finally released for sale last year.” She answered, feeling the mysteries adding up.

“They must have had money at some point.” Shana observed. “The lights, and furniture look expensive.” Tim’s eyes widened. “Laurie, this is a gold mine. Think of how much you can get for this stuff on E Bay.” Laura frowned. “I may not want to sell any of it.” She defended.

Just then, a thudding noise was heard back in the great room near the entrance. “Aaah! What was that?” Tim jumped. “I hope it wasn’t a body falling!” Shana said as she froze in her tracks. Laura sighed. “Idiots! Did you forget about Brianna?”

“In here, Bri!” Laura shouted back through the still open doors to the library. Silence. Now Laura was becoming suspicious. Were they truly alone?

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Laura walked back into the great room and saw no one. She did note a disheveled shutter that was flapping against the house in the gale force wind. Item three, fix the damn shutters, she mentally created a list of repairs needed for the mansion. “No Brianna, just wind.” Laura reported to her skittish young friends.

Laura, Tim, and Shana ascended the left hand side staircase of the main hall. The lightning crackled across the sky, briefly illuminating the huge room. “What’s taking Bri so long?” Shana whined. Laura didn’t want to admit it, but she was worried about Shana’s older cousin as well.

As the investigators reached the top of the carpeted, yet creaky staircase, Tim noticed an oddity. “Hey! Check out the hall floor tiles.” He said as the girls turned to glance behind them. He rubbed his thin chin. “Unless I miss my guess, the tiles are black and white and arranged in a rough chessboard pattern.”

Shana shrugged. “How can you see anything through all that dust and mildew?” Laura confirmed Tim’s observation. “I guess that must’ve been the style in the nineteen sixties and seventies.” Tim scoured the room from a higher vantage point. “The decorations throughout the great room match the black and white chess pieces as well. This is no accident. They were designed that way.”

He pointed to a series of engraved images across the room. “Yeah, now I see that.” Laura admitted. “That lamp stand resembles the dark side castle piece or Rook. The images on those bricks alongside the fireplace depict the white and black horse pieces or knights.”

“This can’t be a coincidence.” Tim repeated. “The carvings in each of the stairway columns and rails show the rounded dark and white pawns. There’s the circular topped dark side bishop, and white side castle or Rook.” Shana sighed. “So the previous owners had a chess fetish. So what?”

Laura wondered if it was really that simple, or was some sort of message or hidden agenda involved? The white side bishop was also seen in a large piece of artwork near the great room’s entrance. “Where are the kings and queens?” Laura asked no one in particular.

“They should be in the safest spot.” Tim guessed. Laura narrowed her eyes, and focused her enhanced vision, allowing her eyes to flash violet. “There!” She pointed to an old, musty, dark tapestry that hung limply from the opposing wall. The white side king and queen were still visible despite the dim lighting, and mildew and dust filtered air. Its background appeared to be dyed in royal blue.

Tim hurried to the walkway that joined to two twisting, lengthy staircases. “Be careful Tim, these floorboards could be rotted.” Shana warned. He waved an okay. “Here!” Tim announced. Another tapestry depicted the dark side king and queen. This tapestry was dyed in a dark, blood red color. It hung at an odd angle, occasionally flapping in the breezy location.

“Weird.” Shana commented. “Maybe the Mathias’s were eccentric?” Laura nodded. “They could certainly afford to be.” Tim glanced around the room, and noted during a bright flash of lightning, that most, if not all of the family’s furniture remained in place and intact.

“I wonder what happened to their personal fortune?” Tim began to look for a true mystery. “I don’t know.” Laura remarked. “The on line ads don’t say. It just lists the basic auction price and some simple statistics about the house.”

“Burntwood Manor had or has fourteen rooms, four bathrooms, including a formal dining room, servant’s quarters, formal kitchen with meat locker, study, library, which we’ve just seen, and a conservatory.” Laura parroted the highlights of the on line ad.

“What the hell is a conservatory anyway?” Shana wondered aloud. “It’s sort of like a cross between a greenhouse for plants and a display area for artwork and fountains.” Laura replied.

Tim carefully walked back down the right hand stairway and examined a huge stone gargoyle that sat atop a large cement perch next to the wall. “Lovely. He sort of looks like you, Laura.” Tim quipped as he put his hand in the gargoyle’s open mouth.

“Hello? What’s this?” Tim was more puzzled than frightened. He had retrieved an old rusty key. “I wonder what this opens?” He mused as a loud noise distracted them. The front door had swung open and smacked against its frame. “Yikes!” Laura quickly zipped over to the door and secured it. The thunderstorm had hit the center island with full force.

The lightning was nearly constant, the winds howled, and the thunder continued to roll, frequently shaking the unsteady old house. The kids gathered in the center of the great room, amid the makeshift chessboard. “Hey brats!” A female voice startled them.

Brianna finally arrived, delighting in giving the younger teens a scare. “Laura, this place is a toilet!” She criticized. “Aww! It’s not that bad! It’s a fixer upper, remember?” Laura defended her potential lair. Brianna was soaked, and hadn’t yet changed out of her swimsuit.

“Whatever!” Brianna said with some irritation. “Shana, you did bring my dry clothes with you, didn’t you?” Her younger cousin nodded. “Yeah Bri, your gym bag is over there.” She pointed to the old mahogany desk that sat near a corner of the library.

They returned to the library, and at first couldn’t locate Brianna’s bag. “Are you sure you put it down here?” She was ready to berate her younger cousin. The dust had been disturbed, but the bag wasn’t in sight. “Here it is!” Tim picked up the greenish blue gym bag that had somehow made it across the room to another desk, possibly made of ebony wood.

Laura had seen Shana place Bri’s bag on the first desk, but was becoming suspicious. At first she thought that Tim might be messing around with the girls, but he hadn’t left her sight the whole time. Laura examined the footprints in the layer of dust on the green carpet, but they’d trampled around the entire library by now. She noted a dark hardcover book that was a bit out of place.

The book had no title on its spine, but was sitting at an odd angle on the bookcase, jutting out from the other books on the shelf. “No way!” Laura muttered. She grabbed the book, and sure enough, one smaller bookcase creaked open, revealing a dusty, cobweb infested door.

Shana gasped. Brianna looked puzzled, and Tim snickered. “That is so cool!” He commented excitedly. “I’m not really surprised.” Laura remarked. “These old mansions probably have a dozen secret passageways. We don’t know the true age of Burntwood Manor, but it makes sense that the place might have been used by smugglers or something.”

“Who’d want to smuggle anything into a ratty old house, in the center of an ancient lake, in the middle of flyover country, far from any port, river dock, or miles from any meaningful installation?” Brianna wondered aloud. Who indeed? Laura silently questioned.

“Okay. Who wants to go down the dark creepy passageway first?” Tim quipped. “Oh pu-lease!” Laura scoffed. “It’s going to be my dark creepy passageway.” She brushed the cobwebs off the entrance door and opened it. A musty, moldy scent made its way into the antique library.

“Phew!” Shana wrinkled her nose. “Hello Renuzit odor eaters!” Laura had to agree with that. Add to the list cleaning any and all passageways, she mentally checked it off. “Hey, before we head into the dungeon of doom, maybe we should eat?” Tim suggested. “Done.” Laura confirmed.

The group waited for Laura to close the door and replace the trigger book, before venturing out into the great room. Shana excitedly filled Brianna in on their chess piece theories. “Slick. I would’ve never thought of decorating an antique manor with chess in mind.” She commented.

Laura guided them into the formal dining room, which looked to be in fairly good shape. It may have had the advantage of being further away from any open or damaged windows. At the room’s center, rested a huge oak formal dining table with place settings and chairs for eight to ten guests.

A cobweb-ridden candelabra sat on the table’s center leaf. Laura admired a nearby antique china cabinet, which still contained about a dozen professionally decorated dishes and cups. Again, Laura silently considered why the Mathias family didn’t claim their personal items. She could only reach one conclusion: the former owners either left in a hurry, or were forced to leave.

She knew a little about bankruptcies and foreclosures, but it seemed that someone would’ve made an attempt to claim the Mathias’s furniture, if for no other reason than to sell it and pay off bills. Yet the mystique of Burntwood Manor continued.

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The Mystery of Burntwood Manor cont'd

Chapter 4

"Okay, who wants to explore the kitchen?” Laura asked cheerfully. “I like this room.” Shana fussed. “It seems to be in better shape than the rest of the house.” Tim shrugged. “I’m all for checking the kitchen.” He volunteered.

“I need to use the bathroom.” Brianna announced. “I’m not sure if the plumbing works at all.” Laura commented. “Ew!” Shana exclaimed. “It can’t be any worse than some of the Port A Potty’s we’ve been in at the beach or the carnival.” Brianna reasoned.

“Remember to hover!” Tim snickered at his own crude remark. “You got that right.” Brianna chuckled. “One more issue…toilet paper.” Shana reminded them. “I’ll find some.” Laura said confidently. Brianna and Shana exchanged glances. “From where? It’s not as if there’s a Mega Mart Mall nearby on this ratty old island.” Shana pointed out.

“Trust me.” Laura smirked. “First we ought to find the washroom.” She eagerly slipped through the French Doors that led to the Kitchen area. “Got it!” Laura returned in what seemed to them to be a blink of an eye. Tim shook his head. Laura wasn’t being very careful about using her powers, he mused. Laura had cleaned the nearest restroom the best that she could.

There hadn’t been any water pressure in the bathroom, so Laura had zipped out the back door, gathered some rainwater in a bucket, and filled up the antique white toilet tank with it. She’d also had the time to find her gym bag and produce a spare roll of toilet paper from it. She’d already considered these possibilities.

“All set.” Laura gestured for the others to follow her through the kitchen and into a good-sized bathroom. She’d lit a twelve-inch candle that she’d found in a storage closet, and placed it on the floor of the bathroom for light. “Thank you dear.” Brianna praised, as she viewed the murky water at the bottom of the toilet bowl basin warily.

“My biggest problem is this swimsuit.” Brianna complained. “I’m soaked, and have to change into my dry clothes.” Shana handed Bri her gym bag. “I’ll be out in a jiffy.” Briana smiled as she ushered everyone out of the bathroom. Tim lingered behind and Laura kicked him lightly in the buttocks. “Brianna doesn’t need your supervision to change her clothes.” She admonished him.

“Shouldn’t I stay behind and guard the bathroom?” Tim offered. Laura and Shana stared at him. “What?” Tim asked innocently. “Didn’t you ever see those movies where the beautiful girl goes into a bathroom, takes off her clothes, and somebody kills her?”

“That’s interesting, Tim.” Laura decided to taunt him. “You need to relax, you’re going to give Shana nightmares. I’m sure Brianna would think that you were being noble, and not simply being a perve. If you want to guard the washroom, be my guest. Shana and I will try and clean the dining room table and chairs.”

The girls left Tim standing stoically, arms crossed, and guarding Brianna. Laura whipped out some paper towels and a small bottle of Pledge, emptying her gym bag contents onto the nearest antique chair. “You were planning to come here all the long, weren’t you?” Shana asked as she narrowed her eyes. “Guilty as charged.” Laura beamed.

The storm was whipping the rain, small hail, and twigs into a frenzy, as the gale force winds plastered the debris against the side of the house and its windows. Shutters rattled, and the wind howled through the old mansion wailing like a tortured soul.

After hurriedly cleaning up the dining room, the girls set up their lunch bags on the table. “Tim? Were you waiting to use the bathroom? You know Laura says that there are at least three more scattered throughout the house.” Brianna spoke, as she emerged unscathed from the washroom.

Tim reddened, but offered no further comment. “Something sure reeks in here.” She remarked, instinctively trotting through the kitchen to the antique white refrigerator. Brianna noted that the kitchen was meant to have a few subordinates within it. It was large, and there was ample space to prepare multiple meals simultaneously.

Tim saw several racks for utensils atop the cabinetry and the state of the art twentieth century cooking island revealed space for more utensils, including dishes and glassware. Brianna spied a professional grade dual bake stove, circa 1957, opposite the refrigerator. Dusty pots and pans still hung expectantly above the island’s countertop.

“I dare you to look in the refrigerator.” Tim challenged Brianna. “Ew! Are you sure that you want to do that?” Laura asked as she and Shana joined the others. Unfazed, Brianna opened up the refrigerator door. “Okay, here goes.” She added. “Phew!” Everyone held their noses.

A few antiquated lumps of food wrapped in rusty aluminum foil were visible within the refrigerator. “Ugh!” Laura waved the putrid air away from her face. “Now we know what that foul smell was.” Shana had closed her eyes fearing that old body parts would be found.

She grimaced as the odor made her eyes water. Tim was grossed out, but quickly closed the refrigerator and opened the freezer. They found much the same thing: a few old, moldy clumps of long dead food. “Okay. First I clean the refrigerator and freezer.” Laura announced.

Bravely, Laura reached back into the freezer and grabbed the slimy protein, and tossed it into a nearby garbage pail. She hurriedly gathered the antiquated produce from the refrigerated section and added that to the garbage pail. “I’ll be right back.”

Laura picked up the garbage and zipped out the back door, depositing the foul mixture into a partially opened sewer cover. She stopped briefly to note that the sky surrounding them had lightened considerably, but it quickly assumed a sickly pale green color.

The storm system still wasn’t through with them. They were in the heart of Mid-western tornado season, and Crater Lake, Nebraska, was well within the area known as tornado alley. Sure enough, in moments, twin waterspouts spun up from the seething lake to form sky-high miniature twisters. “Uh oh! We’re in for it now!” Laura sped back into the house and secured the door.

“Hey kids!” Laura said excitedly. “I tossed our biology experiment food into the crapper, but we’ve got to grab our lunches and seek shelter towards the middle of the house or the basement. That storm just kicked up some waterspouts, and they’re heading this way.”

“Terrific!” Tim whined. “Laura, thanks for inviting us out on this wonderful day.” His voice dripped with sarcasm. “Hey, how was I supposed to know that the weather would go to hell?” Laura countered. “Speaking of hell, we should probably get away from these decrepit windows and finish exploring the house.” Brianna urged. “That’s the spirit!” Laura said enthusiastically.

“Please don’t mention ‘hell’ and ‘spirit’ in the same paragraph.” Shana complained, as Laura chuckled. “We’d better hustle before those twisters hit.” Brianna added. “There are two more rooms adjacent to the kitchen, any ideas what they are?” Tim asked no one in particular.

“One ought to be the pantry.” Laura replied. “The other may be a meat locker.” Shana gulped. “I’m not going into the meat locker! That’s where the bodies are hanging!” She was actually starting to get upset. Laura nearly doubled over with laughter. “What bodies, Shana?” Brianna argued. “Laura said that no one had been here since the nineteen seventies.”

“If there were any bodies, they’d be dust or skeletons by now.” Tim pointed out, though that didn’t seem to help Shana’s attitude any. “Okay, let’s split up.” Brianna suggested, turning her attention to Laura. “Shana and I will check the pantry, you and Tim check the meat locker.”

Briana opened the pantry door, and it was fairly good sized, with four rows of shelves along each of the three walls. There was very little of anything in it. Shana breathed a sigh of relief. Brianna found a lump of food that had no smell. She flipped it out the pantry door onto the kitchen floor.

“This may have been a sandwich at one time.” Laura commented as she passed the debris, and opened the meat locker. Tim noted that there was a vague smell of old meat near the rear of the meat locker, which was roughly the same size as the pantry. Rusty meat hooks hung in rows above the large wooden counter that occupied the entire center of the room.

“Nothing a good dose of Lysol and some major spraying of Pledge can’t cure.” Laura remarked as she collected the variety of hatchets, axes, and serrated knives that were scattered throughout the meat locker. The odor Tim smelled seemed to come from behind the far meat locker wall.

Laura retraced her steps and carried all of the cutting and shearing implements out into the kitchen, tossing them unceremoniously into the filthy kitchen sink. Shana shuddered as she trailed Brianna, after they completed their pantry inspection.

The house began to shake; the windows rattle, and shutters slam as the twisters drew closer. “Okay, that’s it for this part of the house.” Brianna urged. “That storm is too close. Let’s head into the center rooms.” Laura led the crew through the kitchen and into the dining room. They grabbed their lunches and circled back through the main foyer and great room.

Tim had turned his attention to the overall mystique of Burntwood Manor, as he analyzed all they knew up to this point. “I don’t get it, Laurie, why do you suppose the Mathias’s left in a hurry?”

“It doesn’t seem to make any sense.” Laura agreed. “I just about tossed my breakfast after we found that greenish cheese wrapper from 1957 in the fridge.” Shana whined. “Yeah, I thought that sandwich blob was going to make me hurl.” Brianna added.

“It’ll be great after a good and thorough cleaning.” Laura remained positive. “You have your heart set on this, don’t you Laurie?” Tim asked. “Yep. You’ll see, after I get done with it, you won’t be able to recognize the old mansion. I can’t pass up that price.”

“We haven’t really tackled the upstairs yet, to say nothing of the Conservatory, Study, or Library with the secret entrance.” Laura said as they edged away from the windows, and headed for the hallways on either side of the twin staircases. They padded across the chessboard floor, and started exploring the left hand stairway.

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The Mystery of Burntwood Manor cont'd

Chapter 5

The house shook as the gale force winds buffeted the walls, windows, and doors. The twin waterspouts were edging ever closer to them. “Does anyone else think that this is a bad idea?” Shana whined. “C’mon little cuz, where’s your sense of adventure?” Brianna remarked.

“Should we head to the basement in case those twisters come ashore?” Shana asked timidly. Tim gasped. “No! Never go into the basement! Don’t you watch late night horror movies? That’s were the masked serial killer is, just waiting to claim another victim!”

Laura sighed. “Tim, don’t be such a wuss! You’re going to make Shana cry.” Brianna snickered. “Shana is nearly eighteen years old, the only thing that makes her cry is when my aunt makes her clean the house and garage.” Laura chuckled as she guided them towards the basement door.

“I’m all for eating and then investigating the exit.” Tim grumbled. “Okay, lets find a more or less clean table away from the windows.” Laura offered. They located a decent sized dinner table and four chairs near what Laura assumed was the servants’ quarters.

They ate lunch as the storm continued to rage outside. After that, Laura was really inspired to investigate her potential investment. The four of them returned to the hall with the twin staircases. Along one hallway was a series of oil paintings, faded and dusty.

“Hey! Check this out!” Brianna pointed to the first of five huge portraits. She wiped away the cobwebs, sending the spiders scampering away. She read the description below the painting and above the gold and brown frame. “Stanton Mathias, in the year of our Lord, 1893.”

The man looked to be in his forties, and was dressed in a smart black suit with a high collar, white ruffled dress shirt, black tie and boots, and held a riding crop in one hand, his left. Stanton also had what appeared to be a diamond-studded brooch with a large reddish gem in its center, pinned to his lapel. In the background was an open area, a brownish wheat field.

“What do you suppose he did with the riding crop?” Shana joked. “There are certainly no fields or horse paths on this island.” Laura examined the portrait with her enhanced vision. “The picture was probably brought here from Europe, the riding crop says ‘made in Bristol’.” She said.

Tim put his hand on his forehead. Laura was being really careless with her powers. “How could you see that?” Brianna squinted, trying to read the riding crop. “I don’t know.” Laura realized her faux pas. “It must’ve been all those carrots Aunt Wanda made me eat growing up. Good eyes.”

“I wonder how old this mansion really is.” Brianna mused. Laura shrugged. “The website didn’t include the approximate date of construction. Most of Falcon Claw and the surrounding area had been farmland for generations, according to my Aunt Wanda. It wasn’t truly settled until the late 1800’s. The house doesn’t exhibit any western frontier décor.”

“I’m no expert of course.” Tim began. “But I’d guess that it was built around the 1920’s or a bit earlier. The place seems to be full of old style building materials. The woods used in the furniture and construction weren’t native to the Midwest. They’d have to have been brought here from the east coast or Europe.”

“That brings me to a new question.” Tim added. “Who would build a huge mansion on an island in the middle of farming country? Most of the people around here weren’t wealthy by any stretch of the imagination. Who would the Mathias’s associate with?”

“Maybe they were just trying to get away from it all.” Laura offered. “Perhaps using it as a vacation home.” Shana nodded but something was still bothering her. “So, why didn’t they take or sell their furniture before they moved…or died?”

Laura considered the morbid possibility that the Mathias family had died right here. If so, then why hadn’t the relatives claimed any rights to sell the furnishings? The next portrait was of a severe looking woman in typical early 1900 garb.

The woman was wearing a white and beige high collared dress. She sported a large white umbrella, and a matching brooch to Stanton’s was pinned to her chest lapel. “Hmmm. Gertrude Mathias, in the year of our Lord, 1899.” Laura read the portrait’s explanation.

“Gertrude?” Brianna mocked. “Why weren’t women named something normal like Lisa, or Anne?” Laura snickered. “I’m sure some were, Bri.” Gertrude’s eyes seemed to be surrounded by a yellowish glow. Laura wasn’t sure if it was a trick of the candlelight, or the way that the artist had painted her. In the background, they saw a dark and active seascape.

Next along the wall were two more portraits, somewhat smaller than the others, and painted in a completely different style. “Here are some more, guys.” Brianna pointed out. “Let’s see. Bradford Vacilus, 1926.” That was the nearest one. “Lillian Mathias, 1928.” She added.

Laura blew the dust off of both pictures. “Yuck!” Shana commented. “Bradford was no Brad Pitt, that’s for sure. Dude was ugly.” Tim examined the next portrait. “Yeah, but Lilly was a babe.” He commented. Lillian had lengthy curled blonde hair and a wasp like figure. “Probably a gold digger.” Shana remarked. “I take it Lillian is Stanton and Gertrude’s daughter.”

“Makes sense.” Laura agreed. “Then who was Vacilus?” Shana shrugged. “Bradford looks like a meanie. Maybe he was the black sheep of the family.” Laura examined both portraits closely. She noted two oddities: A label on Vacilus’s suit jacket that stated ‘Knightsbridge,’ and a small black chess piece, the dark queen, she guessed, in the background of Lilly’s picture.

“Hmmm.” Laura reminded herself that she couldn’t expect the others to see the same detail in the portraits that she did. They seemed to have a pattern – the chessboard again. There was more to this whole odd story, she was sure of it.

Vacilus’s outfit was typical of the 1920’s, a black suit, white ruffled shirt, black slacks and highly polished shoes. The one distinction they noted was the black bowler hat that Bradford wore.

He sported the popular mutton sized sideburns from the era. In his left hand was a book. The title was large enough for Brianna to see. “Laura, why would Bradford pose for a picture with a book?” She investigated that further. The book’s title was ‘My Favored…’ something. The artist had painted Bradford’s hand covering the rest of the title.

Laura reexamined Gertrude’s portrait, and found something else. The angle of her parasol bothered Laura. Why was it facing the painter, and not facing back over Gertrude’s shoulder like one would expect it to be?

Sure enough there was writing on the parasol top. Normal eyesight couldn’t have picked it up. Anyone would have to have some type of enhanced vision, like with a magnifying glass or microscope. Laura silently read the inscription: ‘The code must be adhered to’

Another mystery! Laura quietly mused. The code of what, code of honor? She guessed. Upon examining Lilly’s portrait, she also found a key in the woman’s right hand. That was not there by accident. Someone, maybe the artist, was using his paintings to send a message, but to whom?

The last two portraits were of Lucia Mathias, and Martin Mathias, dated around 1957. This artist’s style was completely different from either of the previous ones. The canvas was painted with watercolors, and Lucia was portrayed, sitting in a beautiful garden.

Martin was painted inside the house, likely the study, where they hadn’t really explored yet. Laura located two more chess pieces in the pictures. Lucia’s garden had the white queen chess piece painted into the side of a vase full of beautiful flowers along the edge of the patio.

Martin’s piece was odd. In his portrait, a red king chess piece was placed on a bookshelf next to some books which spines faced away from the artist’s point of view. That wasn’t there by accident either, Laura assumed. Yet there was no red king chess piece that she knew of.

Thunder rattled the old mansion to its foundation. “Maybe we better keep moving.” Tim urged. They left the corridor full of family portraits and made their way into the room furthest from the twin stairways. It was probably the study, Laura guessed.

It was filled with musty old books, dusty wooden shelves, and two mahogany desks complete with matching chairs. The difference between the study and the library was that the study had two separate levels of books and bookshelves. A five stair wooden ladder led to the upper level. It was in surprisingly good condition. All it needed was to be cleaned and dusted.

There was also a two-cushion love seat, and what they recognized as a secretarial desk in one corner. The old business desk had a rolled down top, several pigeonholes for letters, and an antique well for an inkbottle and blotter placed at arm’s length from the chair.

“This room had electricity.” Tim observed, spotting the wall plug near the armoire. “Tim, don’t forget electricity was invented in the late nineteenth century.” Laura pointed out. “It stands to reason that the mansion would have decent electrical access.”

“It still seems weird that all this stuff would still be here, and in reasonably good shape.” Shana mentioned as she examined a wall of books without titles on their spines. “Hello! What’s this?” Laura parroted the famous Sherlock Holmes line. She’d found a book titled ‘My Favored Guests’, the book from Bradford Vacilus’s portrait.

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[gardy1]

Mystery of Burntwood Manor cont'd

“Maybe the Mathias’s and Vacilus’s didn’t have any children to pass the mansion and its belongings down to.” Shana speculated as Laura opened the guest book. She flipped pages to the last entry on the dingy, yellowed paper. The ink was beginning to fade out.

“February 13th, 1957.” Laura read. “Leandra and I are leaving for Munich, West Germany. Will send regrets.” Tim’s eyes widened. “Regrets? About what?” Shana sighed. “Oh, I don’t know, maybe about someone dying.” Brianna nodded. “Morbid, but it makes sense.”

Laura’s eyes went wide next. “Leandra?” She examined the writing more closely. “I have a great aunt named Leandra Lake.” Tim whistled. “That’s some coincidence. Is she still alive?” Laura gasped. “No one knows for sure. My parents may have known what happened to her.”

“Aunt Wanda says that Leandra moved to Europe, and the family lost track of her. She’d married a wealthy European landowner. After the 1960’s, Leandra stopped writing. We never heard from her again.” Laura’s Loracite laced heart began to race.

“The landowner mysteriously disappeared.” Laura narrowed her eyes to check on the faded scripting. “Perhaps he pissed someone off in Europe, and they silenced him.” Shana guessed. “Now we’re still reaching a bit, but the pieces to the mystery could be here in the house.” Laura added. “Check on some of the previous pages.” Brianna suggested.

“February 2nd, 1957.” Laura continued. “Leandra and Elliot Rosenbluth, out of New York, came to stay with us.” Tim was rubbing his chin, which was beginning to grow a bit of peach fuzz hair. “Maybe this old mansion was a vacation getaway resort for local aristocrats?” He pondered.

“Why would any wealthy people want to come to an out of the way place like this?” Shana wondered aloud. “There’s nothing touristy to do around here.” Briana contributed. “Even the fishing opportunities are mediocre at best.” Shana shrugged. “They could’ve been eccentrics.”

Laura quickly leafed through the pages toward the beginning of the book with her speedy enhanced vision. “Here’s an important date.” She settled on one. “December 5th, 1941, two days before Pearl Harbor.” Laura read aloud: “Things are not going well in Europe, dozens of our friends are escaping with nothing but the clothes on their backs.”

“There’s a possible European tie in.” Tim observed. “Who actually owned the Guest Book?” Brianna inquired. Laura located the first page. “Anton and Celine Vacilus welcome you to our humble home.” She read. “The page has an indentation…of a chess piece, the white king.”

“Anton was most likely the son of Bradford Vacilus, but we have no clue as to who Celine was before she married him.” Laura sighed. “This tells us that the Vacilus family owned the mansion during World War II.” Tim pointed out. “They could’ve been the ones who modernized Burntwood Manor, and decided on the décor, specifically, the chess board theme.”

“There’s more.” Laura gulped. “Not to be stereotypical, but most of the surnames have a decidedly European pattern, like Rosenbaum, Kreitis, Padvorski, and Seinfeld.” Tim smirked. “Jerry stayed here?” He quipped. Laura rolled her eyes. “Maybe his parents did, say in 1943?”

“Lets check the facts: Someone who was a wealthy European built this mansion in the early 1900’s. It’s far away from any major cities…” Laura summed things up. “If you were going to hide from the Nazis, where would you feel safest?” She paced back and forth, book in hand.

Tim smiled, following Laura’s logic. “In the middle of the other most powerful nation in the world, America.” Laura snapped her fingers. “Bingo!” She exclaimed. “What backs that assumption up is that a majority of the guests stayed here from 1941 through 1945. The entries slack off until the last one in 1957.”

“How big is this place, really?” Shana inquired. “Fourteen total rooms that I know of, but the website lacked a good amount of detail.” Laura replied. “They could’ve slept seven couples comfortably, and shared the bathrooms, kitchen, dining room, etc.”

“Sort of like a Bed and Breakfast.” Brianna commented. “If our theory is correct, the Vacilus’s hid couples persecuted by the Nazis for a substantial fee, I’d imagine.” Tim added. “That could explain some of the family’s wealth.”

“This is all fascinating, but what do we do next?” Shana asked impatiently. “Keep exploring.” Laura urged. “Let’s check the next room.” She replaced the Guest Book in its empty shelf space, and headed down the dusty corridor. It still smelled dank and musty.

“Nice windows.” Brianna mocked, as the lightning continued to flash in the blackened skies above. “There are so many.” Shana observed. “It’s a miracle that none of them had been broken or smashed over the years.” Tim said. “This is the Conservatory, a type of greenhouse.” Laura informed them. The sills were large, and jutted away from the steel framed windows.

Laura examined one window, and located a metal hand crank. It should easily open once I get the rust off, she mused. The teens watched the flooding rains wash across the glass panes, illuminated by the frequent lightning. Shana edged along the opposite side of the room.

A ground-shaking rumble of thunder echoed throughout the spacious room. Above them, a few mostly glass skylights rattled. “Aaah!” Shana screamed. “There’s someone out there!” She quickly backed away from the window, nearly tripping over Tim on her way to the center of the room. “Don’t be ridiculous!” Brianna chastised her younger cousin.

Laura investigated the source of Shana’s fright and laughed. “That’s a gargoyle, or grotesque!” Shana was shivering, as she held onto Tim’s back. “Yeah it is grotesque.” He agreed. “It has a purpose, as they all do.” Laura explained patiently. “The gargoyles that lined the outer rim of the house are used to direct rainwater to the gardens, and avoid the pooling of moisture on the roof.”

“These, though much larger, perform the same function.” Laura squinted as the next flash of lightning brought more detail to the area. With her enhanced vision, she was able to map out the Conservatory, and its surrounding courtyard. “I bet this was really pretty when all of the flowers were in bloom.” She commented wistfully, recalling the yard garden her deceased parents had.

“Now the window boxes are filled with overgrown plants, and muck.” Laura sighed. Items next on the list: clean up and restore the courtyard gardens and greenhouse, she mentally noted. “Let’s move on.” She urged with disdain. Even with superior powers, Laura still had a lot of work to do.

The next room rimmed the courtyard, and appeared to be a type of lounge. There was a much cleaner fireplace with fancy stonework surrounding its mantle. A large shelving unit towered across from it with a number of souvenirs and knickknacks still in place, though dust covered.

A few sofas ringed the room’s center. This room was in much better condition than the others. Shana gasped. A frayed carpet between the sofas was decorated in a chessboard pattern.

Laura followed Shana’s gaze. “Well, at least the Vacilus’s were consistent.” She remarked. “What’s the exact purpose of this room?” Brianna asked suspiciously. Laura shrugged. “If they were rich, did they really need purposes for every room?”

“My guess is that they needed some room to get away from the other couples that may have been living here at the time.” Tim postulated. “Did you feel that?” Shana held her hand lower to the ground. “It’s a cool, damp, draft. I felt it on my legs.”

“Maybe there’s a window open?” Brianna offered. Laura walked over next to Shana and felt the same breeze. It was coming from behind the tall display cabinet. “Don’t tell me, let me guess, a secret passage.” Tim scowled. Laura glanced behind the cabinet.

There was no outline of a doorway. “Not so far.” On a whim, she pushed the knickknack shaped like a Nazi soldier goose-stepping, down. It receded into the shelf, and across the room, behind the fireplace, the mantle shifted, revealing another dark, windy passage. Laura felt the wall in back of the display cabinet. It was cold and damp. “Must be a leak somewhere.” She said.

“How cool!” Brianna beamed. “Let’s check it out!” The curious teens grabbed a candelabra and ventured into the dark passage.

[gardy1]

The Mystery of Burntwood Manor cont'd

Chapter 6

Laura led the way into the darkness. “You guys, be careful on these steps. They seem to be all slimy.” Tim was in the middle of the group. “Why would stairs be slimy far inside the house?” He wondered aloud. “Because of the giant slime monster.” Brianna needled.

Laura snickered. The staircase turned towards the back end of the house as they descended. “I suppose this leads to the dungeons?” Shana quipped. “I can’t see why the Vacilus’s would need a dungeon if they were all about helping people.” Brianna commented.

The stairway sloped to a platform, and a crooked door. “Does that lead to the basement?” Tim guessed. “Probably.” Laura wasn’t sure. “I’ll definitely have to get a hold of the blueprints to the house before I buy it.” Tim sighed. “You’re dead set on buying this beast aren’t you?”

“Tim, don’t use ‘dead’ and ‘beast’ in the same sentence while exploring a spooky old house.” Shana playfully teased. Laura chuckled. “It would certainly be fun on Halloween!” She gibed, opening the partially unhinged door. It led to a dark, damp room without any other visible exit. “Dead end.” Brianna quipped. “There she goes again.” Shana complained.

“That was a disappointment.” Laura said with disdain. “Wait. What’s that on the far wall?” Brianna brought over the lit candelabra. “Is that a religious symbol?” She inquired. “It looks like a crucifix.” Tim gulped. “That’s it! That’s the crypt of Dracula!” He feigned panic.

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Shana chastised. “Everyone knows that Dracula lived in Romania. I doubt if he would’ve shown up in the middle of American flyover country.” She quipped. Laura examined the image closely. “Yeah, it’s definitely a crucifix. If you check the surrounding wall, it could very well be a crypt. The crucifix is centered within a box shaped outline.”

“Open it!” Brianna urged excitedly. “Are you sure you’re ready for that?” Laura cautioned. “I’m not!” Tim stated emphatically. Shana, though frightened, couldn’t resist a peek inside, if the crypt would even open. “Don’t worry Tim, we’ll protect you.” She joked.

Laura ran her fingers along the edge, tracing the box lines all the way around. She couldn’t very well use her superior abilities in front of everyone. “Let’s try this.” She smirked. Laura pressed the exact center of the crucifix. Sure enough, the box shape section receded into the wall.

It wasn’t, in fact, a crypt, but a hidden compartment. Laura heard the rusted old gears squeal as the machinery slowly pulled the wall section backwards. The section was actually a two-foot high by two-foot wide by two-foot thick cement cover. Below it, lay a large, heavy looking book.

“Okay. Why all the melodrama for a creepy old book?” Tim asked worriedly. “Why not just toss it into the shelving in the library, study, or even a bedroom drawer?” Laura grinned. “Duh! It’s a secret book. Obviously, the owners didn’t want anyone else getting a hold of it.”

“Well, pick it up!” Brianna urged. Laura’s eyes sparkled as she reached into the compartment. Spiders, thousand-leggers, and maggots scurried away from the compartment and down the walls, startling Tim and Brianna. Shana ignored the insects, and concentrated on the book.

“Aaaah!” Laura screamed, scaring everyone. She’d picked up the book, and felt a pressure pad latch snap closed. Immediately, the cement block closed in on her hands. Her super powered reflexes prevented her from any injury, as she knew they would.

She pretended to scream as if the wall block had crushed her hands. Laura let her frightened friends panic for a few seconds before allowing the block to close up the compartment. “Oh my God!” Tim hollered. Laura snickered as she placed the book in front of them. “Sorry! I couldn’t resist!” Brianna and Shana playfully punched Laura’s arms. Tim was ghost white.

“I was about to have a heart attack!” Tim yelled. “That’s okay. I’d have had Shana give you CPR and mouth to mouth!” Brianna taunted. “Pass!” Shana chuckled. “That’s Laura’s job!” She needled. “Hardly.” Laura laughed. Tim realized how foolish he was. As far as he knew, Laura was basically indestructible, unless she’d let her Loracite flow dwindle down.

“So what’s the book title?” Tim asked after he’d calmed his frayed nerves. Laura blew the dust and spiders off the book cover. “No title. It’s just a huge leather bound book with a silver wolf’s head buckle keeping the pages intact, and the covers together.” She informed them.

“May I?” Shana asked. Laura handed her friend the book. Shana carefully opened the wolf’s head buckle, and slid the leather binding back. The book smelled old and musty. Shana opened the cover and stared at the fading print. “What’s it say?” Brianna prodded her cousin.

“Ye who’ll read this book, must take it to heart.” Shana read aloud. “The Olde Ones worry, though surely a pleasure be. Twill make ye see that which is yet unseen.” Laura glanced at Shana skeptically. “Get out! Let me see.” She read the same thing aloud. “I knew it! The book is cursed!” Tim’s voice rose. “It’s a book, genius! It can’t be cursed.” Brianna scoffed.

“If you don’t like it, you could always throw it out.” Shana grumbled. “Hell no!” Laura protested, giving the book back to Shana. “I could sell it on E Bay!” Tim chuckled. “Yeah, a book with no title, creepy and old. That will fetch a great price.” He said sarcastically.

Shana flipped to the next page. “Whoa! What the hell language is this?” She commented. “It looks like gibberish. Either that, or the someone that wrote it was dyslexic.” Laura glanced over Shana’s slim shoulder. At first she thought that it was Kryptonian, but after examining it more closely, the writer used English letters, just not in the proper place or order.

“Check this out.” Shana smirked. “Traeh ot egassem sti ekat tsum koob siht daer ohw uoY” She read aloud. “What?” Tim scowled. “Wait! It’s backwards.” Shana determined. “You who read this book must take its message to heart.” Laura rolled her eyes.

“Terrific, now creepy old books are giving us summer reruns as well.” Tim grumbled. “Laura, how much do you want for the book?” Shana asked politely. “Nothing. You can have it. Besides, technically, I don’t own the house yet.” Gold Wing replied.
“There doesn’t seem to be another way out of this room.” Brianna observed.

“You mean we’re trapped?” Tim panicked. “No, genius, we have to go back the way we came.” Laura corrected. Shana began to study the book closely. “Backwards books with no titles, secret passages, antique furniture…what kind of people lived here?” She added absently.

“Terces eht laever.” Shana muttered. “What the hell does that mean?” Laura questioned. “Let’s see…backwards it means ‘reveal the secret’.” Shana informed them. Instantly, a new doorway appeared behind the wall clock above the old reading table. “Oh crap!” Shana nearly tossed the book on the floor. “It is magic!” Laura scowled. “I doubt that. We probably just missed the door.”

“Another secret door, and hidden passage!” Shana complained. “We have no idea how big this mansion truly is. What if there are passageways leading all the way through the hillside and out onto the other side of the island?” Laura thought that Shana made a valid point.

“Okay everyone, Shana’s right.” Gold Wing admitted. “I’ll get a set of blueprints from the records office on the mainland. If one exists, it would be a matter of public record.” Brianna nodded. “So we’ll wrap up our mystery tour in a few minutes?”

“Sounds like a plan.” Tim agreed. “Let’s hope the storm lets up and Brianna’s boat is undamaged.” The kids made their way back through the creepy house, and out the front door. As luck would have it, the storm had let up, and the Simple Simon was docked near the closest sand bar to the house. It appeared to have had no ill effects from the unstable weather.

Laura glanced back at Burntwood Manor, knowing that she would do everything in her power to acquire the mysterious old mansion. Shana’s book was a matter of concern for her, though. Laura knew that magic existed after a few encounters with Clark Kent’s friend, Zatanna.

Laura wondered if she shouldn’t just ask for the book back. Her hope was that Shana would tire of it, and toss it into a corner somewhere. Only time would tell. Brianna sailed the Simple Simon back to the Falcon Claw port, and the kids parted company.

After completing her chores for Aunt Wanda, Laura rested briefly, drank a Loracite laced shake to keep up her supernatural energy, and zipped back to Burntwood Manor that night. She could always defend herself against any possible injury, or so she assumed.

Laura reentered the mansion, and immediately sped upstairs. They hadn’t explored the upper levels of the house at all. There were supposed to be four bedrooms, and three bathrooms on that level, and another room or two in the attic level.

She stopped in the first bedroom, and to her surprise, the room was virtually empty. There was a single oak wood desk without a chair leaning up against the far wall. It was in poor shape, but could’ve been worse. The three windows in the bedroom had been left partially open.

This caused a good amount of weather damage to the antique windowsills, and ratty brown curtains that were torn and tattered. Laura forced all three windows closed. They squealed as the rusty rollers moved for the first time in probably thirty years.

Laura made her way to the desk and checked every drawer. They were empty, however, one of her fingers had tripped a release lever. A hidden compartment snapped open, revealing a musty old black book. She opened it and read the preface. “Here lies the Path to Eden.” Laura read aloud. The book contained notes and detailed maps to an island. “Fascinating.” She said.

next up - Path to Eden

[gardy1]

Gold Wing cont'd

Chapter 7 Path To Eden

Laura sped right over to Tim Servo’s house book in hand. The self-proclaimed geek immediately read from the first few pages of the mysterious book. “Poetry? Isn’t that sort of lame?” He questioned his high school friend. “It’s called The Mariner’s Call.” Laura informed him.

“Long ago the pirates sailed the ocean blue. As the goat’s head divides the sea, many a sailor should beware. Where trade winds blind the ocean true, and godheads are locked in an everlasting stare. Down Tortuga way, this is where the god’s take heed. Many a good man was left to bleed. My crew was just, but chose to bind me. This is where you’ll always find me.” Tim read aloud.

“It’s not the best poetry that I’ve ever read.” He critiqued. Laura smirked. “What?” Tim prodded. “Nothing.” Laura made some effort to hold her tongue. “You read poetry?” She couldn’t resist. Tim sighed. “I’m a geek, remember?” Laura smiled brightly. “No, I think it’s sweet.”

“It’s actually a riddle.” Tim analyzed. “Starting with Tortuga, which is a South Pacific island that sits near Chile in South America. Other islands in the vicinity include Tahiti, and the Marquesas. The godheads locked in an everlasting stare, are obviously the stone godheads on Easter Island.”

“Where the goat’s head divides the sea, refers to the invisible line south of the Equator from us called the Tropic of Capricorn. So Capricorn, being a Zodiac sign, is symbolized by a charging, horned goat.” Tim concluded. “It’s a type of triangulation between Easter Island, the Galapagos Islands, and Tortuga.”

Laura considered all this. “It’s a type of map, then? Hence the title: Path to Eden.” Tim agreed. “Yes, and there’s more. These symbols are latitudes, longitudes, and degrees.” He pointed to a series of numbers at the bottom of the page. Each series contained three distinct quantities. “I would submit that this is a triangulated map to a specific island.” Tim deduced.

“Now I’m curious. Are we talking buried treasure here?” Laura guessed. “I didn’t see any specific references to any type of treasure, it may be just a point of Archaeological interest.” Tim concluded. “Did this story come with an author or writer?” He asked flipping the old book around in his hands. “No. It may be a diary of sorts.” Laura said logically.

“Can you pinpoint an exact location of this alleged island?” Laura inquired. “Sure. That’s no problem. I take it you’re off to investigate?” Tim asked. “Were you planning to hotwire a yacht and rip off some gasoline for it?” Laura shook her head. “I’m not sure, yet. I don’t know if I can swim that far, even with a substantial burst of Loracite.”

“You could always ask our resident alien buddy if she’d like to go with?” Tim suggested.
“I hate to bother Kara with what could be a wild goose chase.” Laura conceded. “What else does the blonde ET have to do, besides moon over Jimmy Olsen and Dick Grayson?” Tim said bitterly. “Uh, I don’t know, Tim, save the world perhaps?” Laura retorted.

“You sound like you need to get away for a while, Tim-ster.” Laura offered. “Can’t you tell your parents that you’re going on Spring Break with me for some sex, and drunken hooliganism?” She teased. “Naw! They’d never buy it!” Tim chuckled. “No, I s’pose not.” Laura grinned thinly.

“If I tell them it’s educational, they might go for it.” Tim admitted as the wheels began to turn in his head. “We might learn something by accident.” Laura prodded. “Tell them about the Easter Island heads and such.” Tim nodded. “They’ll ask where I got the money from.”

“Tell them that you’ve been pimping me out!” Laura laughed hysterically. “Yeah, I could just see the expression on their faces. Actually, my dad might be proud of me.” Tim added. “Okay, TMI!” Laura smirked. “Really!” Tim agreed. “Even so, how would we get there?”

Laura thought about that for a moment. “I have to get to the bank that holds my trust fund anyway. I could nab enough money to book us a flight to Tahiti. We can grab a yacht tour to the Galapagos. From there, I can get us to this mysterious island. The airlines are desperate for money in this lousy economy. We’ll find decent tickets on line.”

“You’re going to raid your trust fund on the whim of the writings from a musty old book?” Tim was incredulous. “Yes.” Laura replied. “I’m going in to see the realtor about getting Burntwood Manor out of hock, anyway. After that, Aunt Wanda’s lawyer will handle the paperwork.”

Tim shook his head. “Laura, you are something else!” She snickered. “Don’t you forget it!” Laura said as she pinched his cheek, purposely to annoy him. “Hey, this little trip to Tahiti could be a big bust. At least we’ll come back with a decent tan.” She lowered her voice. “In the meantime, Gold Wing needs a hideout, and Burntwood Manor is it.”

“Are you going to rename it Gold Wing Manor?” Tim quipped. “Maybe.” Laura joked. “We’ll see. Of course, that would defeat the purpose of having a secret identity. Lake Manor?” Tim shook his head. “Too generic!” Laura rubbed her thin chin. “Crater Lake Manor?” Tim scowled. “Oh well, we can kick it around on our Tahiti trip.”

Later that day, Laura set the events in motion. A week or so afterward, the two young adventurers were winging their way to Tahiti. “One thing that still bothers me from the poem, is that line about ‘many a good man was left to bleed’.” Tim shuddered.

Laura dismissed his concerns with a wave. “It’s always about blood. No big deal! Any good pirate story worth its weight in doubloons has some blood oaths in it.” Tim wasn’t convinced. “What about the line ‘my crew chose to bind me, that’s where you’ll find me’?”

Laura shrugged it off. “Sounds like the crew mutinied against the captain. The book had one old faded date on it, September 4, 1821. That may be significant.” She posed. Tim slept for the rest of the flight, Laura, however was lost in thought. Could this Path to Eden be worth their effort?

more

[gardy1]

Path to Eden begins...

Chapter 7 - Path to Eden

After Tim and Laura landed in a warm and humid Tahiti, dozens of natives tried to assail them, hoping the obviously American tourists would spend some money with them. Harmless merchants, bordered by all manner of denizens lined the airport exit lanes. Even Laura was overwhelmed by the sales wave.

Alcohol, drugs, prostitution...all were available to the alleged wealthy mainland tourists. Tim and Laura hurried past the diverse crowd, seeking the relative safety of the decently secured airport terminal. Once they acquired their battered and bruised luggage, the inquisitive teens settled into seats at a fairly calm outdoor café. The sandwiches, though slightly overpriced, stilled their hunger.

“Tim, this is basically what any spring break adventure would be like.” Laura observed. “I’ve heard from some friends in Metropolis, namely Bart and Oliver, that Tahiti is a more high end destination than other spring break facilities.” Tim was nervous, but slowly calmed down as he ate.

“You told them that we were coming here?” Tim was skeptical. “Yes. I mentioned it to Clark and Kara as well. I didn’t tell them why we were coming here. I assumed that they’d make fun of us.” Laura admitted. “Well, what’s next?” Tim asked warily. “We’ll hop a smaller plane to Tortuga. From there, we can likely charter a boat that would take us to the coordinates in the diary.” She explained.

“Think we’ll find anything?” Tim scoffed. “I hope so. Otherwise, this will have been a huge waste of time and money.” Laura responded. A tall, thin, dark skinned woman, apparently in her mid to late thirties, approached the obvious newcomers. “Hello kids!” She stopped at Tim and Laura’s table. Laura was ready for a fight, but soon gave the woman the benefit of the doubt.

The stranger tossed her head back, allowing her dread locks to flip freely over her shoulder. “Hello?” Laura replied politely. “I am Nashika. I live near Tortuga. Excuse my insolence, but I overheard your travel plans. Can I interest you in a boat ride anywhere in de area?” Nashika aggressively pulled up a café chair to the table. It’s metal legs squealed on the stone floor, causing Laura to wince.

Nashika’s face had definite pacific islander features. Her eyes narrowed, giving her an Asian appearance, but she also bore the skin tone and profile of an Afro-Caribbean local. “I know de area like de back of m’hand.” Nashika boasted, angling for her sales pitch.

“I can take you two love birds into any cove or island you prefer.” Nashika glanced from Tim’s stunned face to Laura’s skeptical one, trying to mentally feel out her potential customers. “If de price is right of course.” Nashika added as Laura had expected. “Of course.” Laura agreed.

“We can discuss it.” Laura hedged, startling Tim. Nashika’s eyes lit up when Laura gave her the opening. “I know of many romantic island getaways where dere is no one for miles.” Nashika began her pitch. “We were particularly interested in an island called Tears of The Soul.” Laura had taken the time to translate the Asian Pacific phrase that she’d read in the Burntwood Manor diary.

“Tears of the Soul?” Nashika echoed, afraid to admit that she’d never heard of it. Laura read Nashika’s blank expression. “Here. I took the trouble to locate the island by its coordinates, longitude, and latitude.” Laura handed the tour guide a store bought map with a big red X where the isle should be.

“Oy! X marks de spot, eh?” Nashika tried to make up for her lack of knowledge by being cute and outgoing. “Yes. Yes. I know where dis is.” Nashika examined the map carefully.
Laura doubted Nashika, assuming that she’d literally do anything to make a sale. In her mind, any boat would do to get them closer to the Tears of Soul island.

“What do you think, Nashika?” Laura prodded, trying to get a price out of the native tour guide. “Okay, I can do dis. My ship, The Dahlia, can make dis island easily. Though, I don’t think it’s a bery romantic place.”

“We’re mostly interested in exploring, not romance.” Laura smirked as Tim reddened, unsure whether embarrassment or the tropical heat caused Tim’s rapid change in color. “Do a lot of people go to the Tears of the Soul island?” Tim finally got into the conversation.

“No, not typically.” Nashika hedged. “Dis island is bery rough. A lot of jagged craggy rock formations, and it is not particularly pretty. I could say dat its about average.” Laura still assumed the Nashika was lying to make a sale, but for now, she was willing to trust the dark skinned sailor.

“Let’s talk price.” Laura directed, instantly, Nashika grew serious. “Okay, how long do you kids plan to stay on Tears of Soul?”Laura shrugged. “It depends how interesting the island is. What are your rates for delivery and pick up?” Nashika seemed to be mentally calculating the fees.

“I can take you two dere for two hundred American dollars.” Nashika proposed. Naturally, the native tour guide expected the teens to bargain. Tim’s eyes lit up. That was almost the amount of air fare each of them had paid! Tim mentally groused. Laura beat him to the punch.

“That’s a bit much for a trip.” Laura said cooly. “How long would it take to get there from here?” Nashika was unflappable. “It can take about two hours to get dere, if da currents and da gods are wit’ us.” She replied. “Well, the gods can book your ride.” Laura said sharply. “We’ll keep looking. Thank you for your time.” Nashika’s eyes went wide. “Here’s da ting...”

The tour guide was ready to make a counter offer. “If you knew when you’d be back, I can plan de rest of my trips.” Nashika sounded reasonable. Laura thought that she was very good at what she did. “Okay, let’s say that you take us there in a few minutes, and come back in about eight hours?”

“Eight you say?” Nashika was mentally readjusting her price. “I can do dat. How about one hundred fifty American dollars?” Laura scowled. “One hundred American, even.” Nashika sighed. “One hundred and twenty five American, and if you are not ready in eight hours, I go.” She countered.

“One hundred and fifteen American dollars, and another twenty five on top of that if we make you wait a while.” Laura said sternly. “How long a while?” Nashika was suspicious. “If we can’t get there for an hour past time.” Laura decided. “Nine hours possible for one hundred and forty American dollars?” Nashika checked her price. “Do we have an accord?” The tour guide accepted the offer.

“You can pay me up front.” Nashika tried. Laura laughed. “No! We’ll give you fifty dollars now, the balance when you return.” She narrowed her eyes as she observed Nashika’s expression. “Let’s see it.” Nashika dared. Laura waved a crisp new fifty dollar bill in the air before them. “Okay, Deal.”

Nashika begrudgingly accepted their offer. “Americans! Let’s go den. Time’s a wastin’.” She got up from the table, again scraping the chair legs on the stone floor. Tim finished his drink, grabbed their small luggage bags and followed the girls toward the beach.

The Dahlia was berthed near the restaurant and souvenir row. Laura checked out the blue and white twenty nine footer. It seemed like a nice enough ship, with a presumably nice below deck cabin.

Nashika ambled down the ramp, refusing to help Tim with the luggage. Laura guessed that would require an extra fee. “Give me that, before you hurt yourself.” Laura grabbed the luggage, easily swinging the bags over her shoulder. Nashika whistled and a young dark skinned girl, roughly fourteen or so, scrambled out from below deck and jogged to the tying ropes.

“Dis is my daughter, Tamika. She is my only crew.” Nashika smiled brightly, baring a full set of brilliant white teeth. “Especially for your price.” Nashika added the dig. Tamika prepared to cast off, gingerly leaping off The Dahlia to the wharf, and untied some ropes.

Tim clambered onto The Dahlia, slipping slightly on the slimy deck. The boat smelled of fresh fish. Laura glided on deck, and immediately went to the control section. She was no expert, but she’d seen her friend Brianna, inspect the family ship often enough. “Are you lost, Missy?” Nashika challenged Laura.

“No.” The teen beauty realized that Nashika was very territorial. “Just curious.” Laura took their bags below deck, tossing them unceremoniously onto the boat’s kitchenette. She assumed that either Nashika or Tamika would go through their luggage, so she reminded Tim to take out anything of value to them.

“Cast off, honey!” Nashika ordered her daughter. Tamika quickly released the last tether and leapt onto the deck ladder, climbed up and hustled to her mother’s side. Tim and Laura sat warily near the rear of The Dahlia. “If de gods are wit’ us, and de currents, we can be at the Tears of the Sou lin about an hour.”

Apparently, Nashika was exaggerating the travel time to garner more payment. The hour went by quickly, as the intrepid teens watched the sapphire blue waves and whitecaps scurry forward. Dolphins occasionally leapt over the whitecaps left in the ship’s wake.

“Der it is, kids.” Nashika announced, pointing to a nearby rocky cove. “De Isle of Tears.” Laura noted that Nashika had misnamed the island, and checked the coordinates in the Raspberry GPS that Oliver had given her. They did seem to be a bit off the mark. Laura was about to make mention of that when Nashika continued. “We are not allowed past dis cove, kiddies. De island you seek is just across from dis one.”

“So, what you’re saying is that you couldn’t deliver us to our destination.” Laura accused. “We should pay you for what, then?” Tim reddened, partially due to sunburn and partially due to fear. “Give me a break, mon.” Nashika protested. “You don’t know how tings work down here.”

“Explain it to us.” Laura challenged. “I am not allowed to pass dis island. You know, why? Because de others will cut my throat, and do even far worse tings to Tamika.” Nashika sounded sincere, but Laura had a hard time believing her story. She was after all, an accomplished sales person.

“You couldn’t have told us that earlier?” Tim chimed in. “Listen mon. You kids come down here from America, and you tink dat dis is Disney World. It’s not.” Nashika sounded frustrated. “What others, Nashika? Who’s after you?” Laura prodded, sensing a Justice Society type of mission coming.

“The others. Dey are da gangs, da controllers, da people who know people.” Nashika’s voice rose. “You don’t make a move wit out dem. You do what dey say, and dat’s it. You make money...and keep your head attached.” Laura figured that this was getting them nowhere. “It sounds like I need to give them all a good ass kicking.” She snapped. Nashika laughed. “Were it only dat simple.” She commented.

“Listen, I like you kids. I don’t want to see you get hurt.” Nashika sounded more like a concerned mom. “It’s simply da way tings are.” Laura got up. “Come on Tim. It looks like our ride is over.” She said, heading downstairs to get their bags. Amazingly, they looked like they hadn’t been touched.

“I will pull into dis cove.” Nashika explained. “But no further. De isle you seek is no more den an hour’s walk over dat ridge. You can swim, can’t you?” Laura nodded. She’d won three silver medals in the Nebraska statewide swim competition, before she decided that it was wrong to use her powers that way. Tim’s family had a pool near their condo development, so he knew enough to get by.

“You’ll pick us up here at the appointed time?” Tim asked as he took his bag from Laura. “Yes. Dat is de accord.” Nashika reassured him. “I have a rep to maintain. I can’t be seen as lazy or undependable.” She continued as Tamika began settling the tethers at the outer cove buoys.

“Great. We’ll call you when we’re back in the cove.” Laura waved her cell phone at them. “Seven O’clock sharp, or I charge you an extra fee.” Nashika reminded them. “Agreed. We have an accord.” Laura said, smiling at the troubled mother and daughter. “May da gods watch over you.” Nashika said, gesturing for Tamika to steady the tether as the guests left.

Tim and Laura watched as Nashika’s Dahlia motored on past the edge of the cove and out into the open waters. “Think they’ll be back?” Tim asked worriedly, regretting the entire trip so far. “They’d better be or they don’t get paid, and we have a long, wet, walk back to Tahiti or Tortuga.”

next: Isle of Tears

[gardy1]

Thanks

Sadly, Smallville is coming to an end this year, but i still hope for a sequel or spin off series. If not, i'll continue writing, and Laura Lake / Gold Wing will go on.

She'll be at my website:

http://www.gardystories.com/

Thanks for reading.
gardy1

[gardy1]

The Isle of Tears - Laura's new story arc

The Isle of Tears

The young explorers shouldered their backpacks and started toward the island’s nearest ridge. “C’mon Tim, we’re burning daylight.” Laura prodded him along.

“The Isle of Tears is our first stop in the chain.” She urged. “Swell.” Tim said as he struggled up the damp, foliage covered, hillside behind her. “Did you ever notice how they never call these islands the ‘Isle of Fluffy Bunnies’ or the ‘Island of Colorful Butterflies’?” He whined.

“Tim, don’t be such a drama queen.” Laura teased. “They probably give these islands horrible names to help keep the people away. You know, people like us. Look around. The greenery is beautiful, the weather is sunny and tropical, and the flowers are colorful. Just pretend that you and I are backpacking through Florida.” Laura tried to get Tim’s mind off of whining.

The two of them continued toward the highest ridge, using the sun, and an old style compass as a navigational guide. The GPS and cell phones didn’t work. Apparently, the Isle of Tears was located in a dead zone, out of satellite range.

There were a few dead zones in the world, most notably near the Artic Circle, or the Antarctic Circle. “Florida? Sure.” Tim shaded his eyes from the intense tropical sun. “Let me know when we get to the Magic Kingdom.” His voice was filled with sarcasm.

“What exactly are we looking for, Laurie?” Tim questioned. “I’m not sure. The coordinates in the book lead us straight ahead about four miles. We might see some ruins of an old building or ship that crash landed on this island in the late 1800’s.” Gold Wing replied.

“I hope there’s some treasure available at the end of this debacle.” Tim complained. “But, I thought that I was your treasure?” Laura teased him. “Yes. Yes you are, Laurie.” Tim finally laughed. “You are obviously one of a kind.” Laura playfully bowed. “Yes I am.”

Laura’s sensitive hearing picked up some thunder in the distance. She glanced in every direction, but saw no clouds, no sign of an impending tropical storm. “Hmm! That’s weird.” She stopped and placed her hands on her shapely hips. “Don’t ever say that, Laurie!” Tim shuddered.

“What?” She flashed him her most innocent grin. “Don’t ever say ‘that’s weird’ on a creepy island in the middle of the Pacific Ocean.” Tim grumbled. “That’s usually when the ground opens up and swallows the main stars of a movie, or a dinosaur jumps out from behind the bushes and eats someone.” Laura laughed heartily. “I only thought that I heard thunder.” She added.

“Oh.” Tim stopped and looked in all directions as well. “Nope. Not a cloud in the sky!” Laura shrugged. “It was probably the surf pounding against some rocks.” They continued on. “Anyway, the only types of life I expect to see on this island are frightened birds and lizards.” She said.

“Can we take a break?” Tim asked pitifully. “We’ve only been walking for about an hour.” Laura protested. They had reached the hill’s peak overlooking the emerald green valley below. The landscape was dotted with small and huge colorful flowers, and tall, slim, shady trees.

“Whatever.” She gave in. Tim sat down on a large mossy boulder. Laura reluctantly sat beside him. She tended to forget that Tim was merely human, and tired easily, while she was technically a Loracite enhanced Meta human. Laura drank from their first bottle of water.

“Laurie, what are those?” Tim glanced up ahead of them. Gold Wing followed his gaze. “I’m not sure.” She shaded her eyes. Atop a grove of tall, palm like trees, several yellow and black furry animals scampered across the leaves and branches. The trees bore some kind of large orange like fruits. She guessed that they were grapefruit or mango trees.

“They might be lemurs.” Gold Wing speculated. “Cool! I didn’t expect to see any actual animals on the island.” Laura got up and carefully walked towards the tree grove. “Laurie! Don’t go near them! They might be rabid!” Tim shouted. “Tim, be quiet! You’re scaring them…or not.” She was startled when the lemurs deftly climbed down the trees and scampered towards them.

“They’re going to attack!” Tim said much more quietly. “Oh pu-lease! The little fur balls aren’t even two feet tall.” Laura dismissed him with a wave. The lemurs gathered around Laura, and sniffed at her feet and rubbed against her exposed shins. “Aww! They’re so cute!” She gushed.

“Cute until they rip your face off!” Tim said in a voice barely above a whisper. The creatures were basically yellow with black stripes and elongated, curled tails. Some were slightly bigger than others, and their fur was a much brighter yellow. “Those must be the males.” Laura speculated. They had big orange hazel eyes, and seemed to have no fear of her.

Oddly, the lemur creatures paid Tim no mind at all. He remained frozen in fear, perched atop the mossy boulder. He’d picked his legs up out of the way of the skittering animals. They all chattered incessantly, thoroughly sniffing Laura’s bare legs.

“Maybe they smell the suntan lotion.” She said, as a lemur seemed to stop and stare at her face. He bellowed out a new noise, and the other lemurs stopped in their tracks. “Uh oh!” Tim commented quietly. “They’re going to attack!” Laura rolled her eyes. “Hush, Tim!”

“That’s probably the leader, and he’s instructing them to get back to gathering the fruits, or whatever they were supposed to be doing.” Laura speculated in a quiet tone. The animals grew completely silent, and sniffed at the air behind them. The lemurs stopped moving and all focused their attention on the leader. He bellowed again, and the lemur clan scattered.

“That’s odd!” Laura stood with her hands on her hips. “They’re behaving like animals…evading a predator!” She quickly hustled back to Tim. “Break’s over!” She urged, as they grabbed their backpacks and started back along their original trail.

The ridgeline sloped away from them, and the landscape was slick and treacherous. Tim went down a few times, but wasn’t seriously injured. The next foliage-covered ridge wasn’t as high as the one with the lemurs on it. They were about two hours into their journey by now.

At the base of that hilly knoll, Laura spotted some flat stones. They formed an obviously manmade staircase. The moss covered steps led down into a darkened cavern. “Aha!” Laura pointed to the entrance. “I bet whatever we’re looking for is in there.”

“Uh…I doubt if we’ll find any treasure down there.” Tim complained. “The entrance is too obvious. If anyone had left something of value, it would be long gone by now.” Laura scowled as she headed for the steps. “Tim, don’t be so negative.” She berated him.

“What if the people didn’t know what they were looking for?” Laura speculated. “You mean, like us?” Tim countered. “Sure. That’s how some of the most important things were found, purely by accident. That’s how I found the Loracite cave, the golden idols, and the ancient aqua ducts.”

Tim fumbled in his backpack for the large kryptonite flashlight. Laura’s eyes immediately turned yellow and dilated when she entered the darkness, part of her Meta Human instincts. “What if there’s a bear or something down there?” Tim hesitated. “Nope. Wrong climate, wrong part of the world” Laura informed him.

“We might find a large jungle type cat, or some bats.” She continued her descent. “Something startled those lemurs, and it wasn’t us.” Tim reminded her. “Don’t worry, I downed a glassful of your homemade Loracite shake this morning before we left.” Laura quipped.

“That’s good.” Tim sounded relieved. “Yup. I’ve got my enhanced hearing, smelling, and night vision going.” Laura reassured him. “I’m sensing nothing at all.” The greenish blue beams from the kryptonite flashlight shone along the damp walls.

The air around them began to cool substantially. The staircase led to a small room with no furniture. Old wooden two by fours held back the encroaching moss from blocking the room’s entryway. Laura examined each wall carefully, but found nothing of interest.

A small crack of light appeared at the base of one partially damaged wall. “That’s weird!” Laura exclaimed. “Now what?” Tim froze in place, allowing the kryptonite flashlight beam to play along the wall in question. “Where’s that light coming from?” Laura wondered aloud.

“I take it we’ve found another doorway.” Tim guessed. Laura felt along the wall, and sure enough, stale air protruded from behind another door. “I don’t see a knob or latch.” Tim hurriedly examined the area. “There was probably a secret latch hidden somewhere in this room.” He surmised. “Luckily, we can just do this.” Laura smirked as she shoved the door backwards.

The hinges squealed, and the door, which appeared to be made of metal, slid off at an odd angle. The light came from an old oil lamp that hung near the center of the secondary room. Along the floor were scattered about a dozen half dollar size gold coins. “There’s your treasure.” Laura scoffed as she scoped out the room with her enhanced Meta human vision.

“Great!” Tim scowled. “I guess we’ve come all this way for virtually nothing.” Laura wasn’t yet convinced that her book had led them astray. “Someone was here recently.” She announced. “Though there’s a good layer of thick dust on the floor, I’d guess that this room was entered about three to six months ago.” Tim nodded. “They took our treasure.” He snapped.

“Maybe.” Laura wasn’t so sure. Tim quickly gathered up the gold coins, and double-checked the rest of the room. They noted that there was a solitary dust covered desk in the far corner, with a burned out oil lamp atop it. Laura searched the five drawers within it.

“Here’s a piece of paper.” She announced. “Swell.” Tim complained. “Should we write someone a letter in lieu of sending a postcard?” He asked cynically. “Nope.” Laura read the writing on it: ‘Olivia Descarte was presumed lost at sea during tropical storm Eric.’ It was a news article, dated May the 16th in 2005. “Her family gave up looking for her after a month.” Laura summarized.

“The seventeen year old was mourned by loved ones around June 17th that same year.” Laura continued. “How sad.” Tim stopped in his tracks. “That article being here could mean that Olivia survived.” He pointed out. “Why else would it be down here in a desk?”

“If that were true, than why didn’t Olivia eventually find her way to the edge of the island and wait for some help?” Laura wondered aloud. “Maybe she did, and she’s back home by now.” Tim speculated. “Or worse. What if the evildoers that Nashika talked about got a hold of her?”
Laura stuffed the article in her backpack. “Did the article say who her parents were?” Tim was entertaining another theory. “Yes. Miles and Deborah Descarte.” Laura informed him. “I wish that I could Google their names. I recall that some heiress was reported lost at sea.” He said.

“Heiress?” Laura repeated. “You think that something fishy is going on here, don’t you?” She smiled brightly at Tim. “I’m just grasping at straws.” He admitted. Laura double-checked the entire room, but found no further clues. “If Olivia did survive, there would be no remaining supplies in this, whatever it is, a storage room maybe.”

“She would have to learn to hunt, or gather the fruits like the lemurs did.” Laura rationalized. “Yes, and if this area is prone to tropical storms, this cave would make a decent shelter.” Tim followed Laura’s line of thinking, as he pocketed the gold coins.

“You’re thinking that if Olivia survived, and we found her and brought her home with us, her parents might give us a reward.” Laura’s eyes narrowed. Tim put his finger on his nose. “Bingo!”

Laura laughed. “Tim, you are an evil genius. We superheroes don’t take rewards for saving or rescuing people.” She needled. “Yes, but as you’re so fond of pointing out, I’m no superhero.”

“Awww! Tim, don’t be like that!” Laura pretended to be angry with him. “Anyway, there’s nothing else of any interest here. We should get going. We only have six hours or so to explore and rescue your Olivia.” She teased. “It’s about a two hour trek back to the island’s landing.”

They made their way back up the slimy stairs and out into the bright sunshine. The tropical humidity felt good on their skin, as the trade winds blew across the isle. According to the compass, they should head due west to circle the island perimeter, and end up back at the original landing point of Nashika’s ship. They’d taken a few steps in that direction.

“Wait a minute!” Laura stopped. “That palm tree branch! Some ace crime-fighter detective I am. Tim, check out that palm tree branch next to the cave entrance.” He did as she instructed. “Doesn’t it look like someone stood it up against the rock wall, like a broom?” Laura stared at the mostly brown, fully leaved, branch. “Yeah, I suppose.” Tim agreed. “Your point would be?”

“The branch holding the dried up leaves is roughly the width of a human hand.” She observed. “Let’s assume Olivia survived. She used the palm tree branch to clear away the dust on the cave floor…” Laura and Tim exchanged glances. “To erase her footprints!” They chorused.

“Well done, Sherlock!” Tim teased Laura. “The mystery continues.” She nodded. “If we don’t find anything more of value, we can always come back tomorrow. We can hire a different ride.” Laura mentioned. Tim was not looking forward to exploring that possibility.