The Crystal's Curse (5 page)

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Authors: Vicky de Leo

Tags: #Science Fiction, #General, #Fiction

BOOK: The Crystal's Curse
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What if it is a transporter? Can I return just as easily? I wonder if all I have to do is think about where I want to be and
voila,
I’ll be there. It’s worth a try.

Standing across the street from his grandfather’s house and holding the crystal in both hands, he closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and thought really hard about being back in Guatemala.

When he opened his eyes, he was still in Boston. If it was a transporter, then it took more than just thinking about it.
Okay, what now? I don’t have any money or warm clothes and I can’t stay outside in the cold. At least I know where I am. What do I tell my grandfather? I can’t very well tell him the truth. “
Hey, Grandpa I don‘t know how I got here. One minute I was on a dig with my parents and the next I was here. I think I teleported here. Can I stay with you, until I can figure out how to beam back?”
Yeah, that’s not going to work. I did it and I don’t believe it. I guess I could come up with a plausible story, but Mom always says I’m a terrible liar. Okay, so I stick to the truth as much as possible without looking insane. I could say I must have amnesia, because I don’t remember how I got here. That much is true. What if he decides to take me to a doctor? How do I explain? If I just show up on his doorstep without offering any explanation, he’s going to think I ran away. Well, I did sort of. So let’s go with that. I ran away, I didn’t have anywhere else to go so I came here. I just hope it’s still the same year and Grandpa still lives here.

Joshua took a deep breath, crossed the road, and knocked on the door. He finally exhaled when he recognized the short, heavyset woman with
gray hair who answered the door as Mrs. Stewart, his grandfather’s long time housekeeper. Dressed in a dark dress and low-heeled shoes, she stood in the doorway wiping her hands on a white apron.

“Mrs. Stewart, you may not remember me, but I’m Joshua Carson, Joseph Carson’s grandson. Is my grandfather home?”

Even though Joshua was standing one step lower, she had to look up to him. “Joshua? You’ve grown a bit, but, yes, I do remember you. No, your grandfather isn’t home. He’s out of town at the moment.” When Joshua shivered, she said, “Goodness, please come in, you must be freezing. Why are you dressed like that? Don’t you have a coat?”

“No, the airline lost my luggage.” It was the first thing that came to mind.

Craning her neck to look around him, she asked, “Are your parents with you?”

“No, I came alone.” He decided to try to answer any questions as accurately as possible.

She gave him a strange look, but didn’t say anything. She showed him into the living room where she lit the fire, and then went out into the hallway to fetch a blanket for him.

Spying a newspaper, Joshua quickly grabbed it and scanned the headlines for the date, January 25
th
, same day, same year. Judging from the clock he’d past in the hall, and calculating the time difference between Boston and Guatemala, almost no time had elapsed between the time he left the dig and arriving in the park in Boston. Joshua expelled the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.

When Mrs. Stewart returned with the blanket, he wrapped it around his shoulders and stood in front of the fire
. He surveyed the room. Everything looked exactly as he remembered it. It was a large room with big oversized leather chairs. A sofa faced the fireplace. It always reminded him of one of the men’s clubs his father had taken him to in London. An oil painting hung over the fireplace, but the rest of the room contained no family pictures or any of the feminine homey touches that older people’s homes usually have.

Joshua had not known his grandmother. She’d died when his father was a teenager. His grandfather had never remarried, seeming satisfied to live alone with only Mrs. Stewart to come in every day to cook and clean for him. Joshua knew his grandfather was still very involved in running the bank and served on the executive boards of several other companies.

Mrs. Stewart asked, “Was your grandfather expecting you? He didn’t mention it to me,”

“No, it was kind of a spur of the moment thing. You said he was out of town. How long will he be gone?”

“I expect him back tomorrow.”

Joshua hesitated, but then because he had no other options, he said, “All my money was in the luggage, I don’t have any place else to go. Do you think it would be all right if I stayed here?”

She smiled. “Of course, your grandfather would want you to stay. You can use your father’s old room.” Looking at the summer clothes he was wearing, she said, “I think there may still be some of his old clothes stored in there. They won’t be stylish, but they should fit you. Why don’t you go up, take a shower, get changed and I’ll fix you something to eat.”

Walking up the stairs, Joshua heaved a big sigh of relief. He was warm, with a place to stay and food to eat. Best of all, he had until tomorrow to decide what he was going to say to his grandfather. Maybe after a good night’s sleep, he’d know what to do. Wouldn’t it be great if he could really stay and start college as he planned? First, he would have to find a way to get in touch with his parents to let them know he was safe. They must be really worried by now.

At the top of the stairs, Joshua paused. His grandfather’s room was the first door on the left. The guest room where his parents stayed was next and at the end of the hall was his father’s old room. He walked down the hallway and opened the door. It looked exactly the same. He used to think it strange that a kid’s room had a double bed, until his father told him that when Sam was a teenager he grew so tall that they couldn’t find a single bed long enough for him. Grandfather had bought a double bed so Sam could lie crosswise and his feet wouldn’t hang off the end. When Joshua was little, it had seemed huge; now it seemed perfect. A wingback chair stood under the window and a writing desk next to the closet. Discarding the blanket, he headed for the bathroom next door.

After a long hot shower, he returned to the bedroom with a towel wrapped around his waist. He looked in the mirror. He felt different. Studying his image, he realized he
looked different as well, bigger somehow. He was surprised at how many muscles he had developed in the last couple of months. He opened the closet and picked out jeans and a sweater. Everything fit. He slipped the crystal back into the pocket of his jeans, not quite sure why, it just seemed important to keep it close.

Showered and dressed, he went downstairs to the kitchen. Mrs. Stewart had set out a steaming bowl of beef stew and thick slices of homemade bread.

“What would you like to drink?” she asked.

“A glass of milk would be great, if you have it.”

She poured a large glass. It was ice cold and tasted wonderful. Fresh milk was one of the things he missed most. Since most digs were in such remote places, he had to make do with powdered milk. When he finished the stew, she brought out brownies.

Now that he was full, he was exhausted. He still had a headache and was having trouble covering a huge yawn. “Thank you for everything. That was wonderful. I’m sorry to put you to so much trouble.”

“It was no trouble. You looked tired. You probably still have jet lag. Why don’t you go on up to bed? I’ll clean up here and see you in the morning. Your grandfather should be home around noon tomorrow.”

Joshua offered to help her, but she refused. He trudged up the stairs and fell into bed. He didn’t stir until the sun woke him around 10 a.m. Thankfully, his headache was gone. The aroma of something wonderful cooking stirred his hunger. He dressed quickly in the same clothes he’d worn the night before and went downstairs.

Mrs. Stewart was in the kitchen. The tantalizing smell of fresh baked bread filled the air. Sliding a roast in the oven, she said, “Sit down, Joshua. I just took some cinnamon rolls out of the oven, would you like one? Or I could make you a real breakfast of eggs and ham, if you like? We’ll be having lunch around one o’clock if your grandfather gets home on time, but I imagine someone growing as fast as you will be hungry again by then.”

Joshua shook his head. “The cinnamon rolls will be plenty. They smell great. Keep doing what you are doing.” He silently watched her knead bread dough, form it into loaves, and then set it aside to rise while he consumed three of the cinnamon rolls.

Mrs. Stewart hummed while she worked but didn’t say anymore.

At last, Joshua stood up, rinsed his glass, and said, “I think I’ll go into the library and see if I can find something to read.”

Joshua knew that his grandfather had an extensive library. Adjoining the library was his grandfather’s study. The door was open and when he looked in, he was surprised to see that his grandfather also had an up-to-date computer set up on the massive desk. Three walls of the library were floor to ceiling bookshelves, the fourth a wall of windows with French doors leading out to the back garden. Two large comfortable chairs faced the garden.

Joshua scanned the shelves. There were books on a variety of subjects as well as fiction. He could tell that most, if not all, of the books had been read, the covers worn with yellowing pages. There were even sections on paleontology, archeology, and anthropology. Joshua wondered if his dad had left them behind, or whether his grandfather had been researching the life that Sam led. He picked out one on the Maya, looking for anything resembling the crystal or the recess.

Now rested, with time to think, his mind returned to the extraordinary events of the day before. He took the crystal from his pocket and examined it. As farfetched as it seemed, the only answer he could come up with that explained anything, was that the crystal worked in conjunction with the recess to act as a transporter. Although, if that were true, how did you control it? Why did it send him here and how could he get back? It wouldn’t be much use if there were no way of returning or going on to other places. Was there another transporter somewhere in Boston? He sat thinking about it for a long time, until he heard the front door open. Assuming his grandfather must be back, Joshua stood up, squared his shoulders, and stepped into the hall to face him.

He watched his grandfather shrug out of his overcoat. Joseph Carson stood a few inches shorter than Joshua. He wore a dark suit, white shirt and a dark tie. His once black hair, now white, matched his mustache and neatly trimmed beard. Unlike some older men, he stood erect, giving off an air of power and determination. His dark brown eyes were alert and penetrating.

As Joseph hung up his hat and coat, he turned and saw Joshua. His mouth fell open. He stared at him for a few minutes before saying, “Harry? Is that you?”

Puzzled, Joshua said, “It’s me, Joshua, your grandson?”

H e shook his head. “Oh…Of course, Joshua.” Squinting, he looked more closely as if to make sure. “You’ve grown since I last saw you.” What are you doing here?” he asked sharply.

“I just dropped in to see you,” Joshua said with a smile hoping his grandfather would buy that.

“Are your parents here, too?” Joseph’s tone was softer, but he was still frowning.

“No, they’re still in Guatemala.”

His grandfather just looked at him, apparently waiting for an explanation.

Not knowing what to say, Joshua silently returned his stare.

“They let you come alone?” He raised both eyebrows.

“They didn’t exactly let me, but they didn’t try to stop me.” Joshua knew it sounded evasive, but hoped his grandfather wouldn’t pick up on it.

Joseph’s eyes narrowed as he looked steadily at Joshua. “Do your parents even know you’re here?”

Sticking to his decision to tell as much of the truth as he dared, Joshua replied, “Not yet. I’m not sure how to get in touch with them to tell them I arrived safely. You see they’re on a remote dig. They have a satellite phone, but it doesn’t work where they are and anyway I don’t have the number.” He stopped. Seeing his grandfather’s look of skepticism, he added, “It was in my luggage which got lost.”
Might as well stick with the same story, he thought. It sounded lame even to Joshua. He looked down not wanting to meet his grandfather gaze. He noticed that his headache was back.

“When did you get here?” Joseph probed.

“Last night. Mrs. Stewart said it was all right if I stayed and I borrowed some of Dad’s old clothes that he left here. I hope that was okay.” This was harder than he thought it would be. He considered telling his grandfather the truth, but decided not to when his grandfather smiled.

“You’re welcome anytime. I’ve always wanted to be able to spend more time getting to know you, but your parents never stayed long. They were never willing to leave you here. You are not in trouble are you? Not running from anything I should know about?”

Joshua thought this was probably his grandfather’s subtle way of asking if he was wanted by the police or on drugs. “No, no, nothing like that. When did they ever leave me alone long enough to get into trouble?” Joshua said with a smile, trying to relax.

“You’re alone now,” Joseph said softly.

Joshua couldn‘t help it, he laughed. “If I was planning on getting into trouble, this is the last place I would go. As well known as you are, I’m pretty sure anything I do will immediately get back to you.”

“I guess that’s true. Still it‘s strange that your parents didn‘t call first.”

Joshua had no answer for that, so he just kept silent.

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