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main | table of contents Copyright © 2003, S. Y. Affolee 29 Not Quite The street was clear and deserted. A plow had arrived earlier that morning to shovel all the snow that had accumulated during the previous night onto the sides creating large drifts laced with dirt. In the weak late morning light, dark heavy clouds hung overhead, filled with snow but reluctant for release. It was as if a gray blanket had smothered the sky. Verity arrived in the Rothburne Institute parking lot and parked close to the entrance. The parking lot itself was mostly empty except for the few cars of the skeleton staff working during the holidays. She should be staying home, sleeping or puttering around or even reading some of the books her uncle left in the study, but something nagged at her. And she felt a stab of shame when she thought of Gammell. She should have never been abrupt with him when he had called. Her head still ached a little, a reminder of her foolishness. She climbed out of her car and took in a deep breath of cold air. Something told her that she would need her wits about her. She walked toward the institute when from the corner of her eye, she saw a shadow detach from one of the nearby cars and glide towards her. She turned quickly, her hands clenching into fists. This time, she was not going to let some anonymous criminal get the better of her. From a few feet away, the shadow looked up, and from the folds of a hood, she saw a familiar face. “Aeneus!” “Shh! Or someone will hear you. Even empty air has ears.” The old man took out a ratty handkerchief from his coat pocket and blew his nose in it loudly. “I had a feeling you would be back today.” “I heard that you were checked out by someone.” “Yeah, I was checked out by someone. But that is irrelevant. I just wanted to tell you to be careful.” She smiled wryly. “I found out the hard way yesterday.” “Huh. What was that?” “Someone hit me on the head.” “You’re lucky you’re still in one piece,” he said seriously. “What about Nathaniel Gammell? What happened to him? Did he manage to get whoever it was who hurt you?” “No. He was elsewhere doing whatever it was he said was important. To be honest, I was angry at him and went investigating myself.” “Bad idea. Well, be careful and don’t dig too deeply into anything.” “But you said…” “Forget what I said. I ramble a lot. Most people don’t pay attention to what I say and it would do you good to do the same.” “But if what you say is the truth, why should I ignore it?” “Because it’s safer that way.” The old man sighed. “Look Verity, I see you as a sort of daughter although I don’t have children of my own. I don’t want you to get hurt chasing a crackpot’s imaginings.” “Is being safer really better than finding out the truth?” “I don’t want you to get hurt. Or rather, I don’t want to get hurt. Despite all my care, I neglected to notice that I talk about things that shouldn’t be talked about too much. My mouth will get me in trouble. It already has gotten me in trouble. And when you see Nathaniel Gammell next, tell him to keep quiet too.” She shook her head. “I don’t understand, Aeneus. Who checked you out of the institute? They didn’t say it was your nephew Kenny.” “No, it’s not my nephew. Ungrateful wretch that he is, I want to keep my family out of this. I want you out of it too. You just moved to Monteport. You shouldn’t be dealing with it at all.” “Who checked you out?” she repeated. The old man’s eyes slitted and he turned his head quickly surveying the area around them. The parking lot appeared devoid of any people except themselves. “A not-quite friend,” he said finally. “What is that supposed to mean? If you don’t trust this guy, you’re more than welcome to stay with me. I have an extra bedroom you could use for the rest of the holiday.” “I may be a crackpot, but I’m not stupid,” said Aeneus. “I know how to take care of myself. I haven’t forgotten. And if something does happen to me, it wouldn’t be that tragic. I’m old. I’ve lived quite long enough.” “Stop talking like that. Unnatural deaths are nothing to make light of.” “You’re right, they’re not. But I would hate for anything to happen to you. Be careful where you look, Verity. And don’t look too deep or other forces may decide to take malicious action on you. Well, I’ve got to get going.” Aeneus turned and walked through the parking lot. Verity headed back to the institute but then turned her head the last moment, wanting to say something to him. But the old man had already disappeared. She found the doors to the institute locked. Puzzled, she unlocked the door with the key she had been given on her first day on the job and slipped inside. The lobby was dimmed except for a single overhead light in the waiting area. It was silent. Where were the workers—the nurses and the crew—working during the holiday? Where they all upstairs where the patients were quartered or were there truly no one here? Quickly, she headed downstairs to the archives. When she turned on the light, everything appeared to be in place. She went into her office and promptly took out the old leather-bound journal that she had shoved into the drawer after she had first glanced at it. She put it underneath her coat and walked back out. Before she turned off the lights in the archives and locked the door, she took one last look around. The door to the sub-basement caught her eye. The door was slightly ajar. Shuddering, she quickly locked up the archives, not wanting to check on the door that was supposed to be closed.  |