Tyler put the last spoonful of ice cream in his mouth and placed the spoon back in the dish. He looked over to see Megan smiling as if she had a secret.
“What is it?” he asked.
“Nothing,” she replied.
He took his napkin and wiped his mouth. That only seemed to make it worse. She was almost laughing out loud now.
“What is so funny?” Tyler asked. He was getting ready to do a nostril check.
“You’re grunting,” she said.
He cocked his eyebrows in confusion. “Grunting?”
“Yeah,” she replied. “You’ve done it the whole time we’ve been here. Whenever you take a bite of your ice cream you make little grunting noises until you swallow.”
Now it was Tyler’s turn to smile. He had been told this before. However, it was a little more embarrassing to be told by a pretty girl.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “It’s just that I really like this ice cream. I just can’t help it. It just does something to me!”
Now she really was laughing. He thought that it was a good sign that he was able to make her smile and laugh this much. He laughed as he began to make mock grunts and pretended to continue eating.
Tyler looked out at the street just as the sleek green town car slid up beside the curb. The headlights went out and the door opened. Daniel McDawn got out and adjusted the collar of his coat before heading toward the door of the diner. Tyler reached into his coat pocket and pulled out his phone. He glanced at it and rolled his eyes.
“I guess we missed our curfew,” he said.
Megan followed his eyes and saw Daniel just as he was stepping inside and taking a look around. He spotted them seated at the counter and made his way toward them.
“What time is it?” she asked.
“Ten minutes after eleven,” Tyler replied.
“Did you get lost?” Daniel said when he reached them. He sat down next to Tyler and motioned for the waitress.
“No,” Tyler said, a slightly embarrassed groan coming out with the word. “We were just talking and the time got away from us.”
Daniel smiled. “It’s okay. I knew where you were.” He looked at the waitress when she came over and ordered a cup of coffee in a to-go cup. “But, Megan, I need to give you a lift over to the museum. Your grandfather is having a look around, but I’m sure he’ll be ready to head back to your hotel soon.”
“Okay,” Megan said.
The waitress came back with Daniel’s coffee and he took a sip. Tyler motioned to the ice cream dishes in front of them.
“So,” he said. “You got this?”
Daniel’s eyebrows went up a little. “Do I got this?”
Tyler rolled his eyes a little. “Are you going to take care of this?”
“Are you asking if I’m going to pay for your ice cream?” Daniel asked.
“Yes,” Tyler replied.
“Why would you ask a girl out for ice cream if you don’t have any money to pay for it?” Daniel replied. He looked over at Megan. “Is this the kind of bum that you want to go out with?”
Megan smiled.
“I have money,” Tyler said. “I would just rather not spend it.”
“Oh, I see,” Daniel said with a chuckle as he pulled his wallet out of his coat. “I’ll pay your bill but only if you use your money to take Megan out to dinner this weekend.”
Tyler looked down at the counter and shook his head.
“Nice, dad,” he muttered.
“You weren’t going to ask her out again?” Daniel asked as he laid a few bills down next to his coffee cup.
“Not in front of you,” he replied.
“It's okay, Tyler,” Megan said. “I’d like to see you again. On Friday?”
Tyler nodded without looking up. Daniel laughed and patted his son on the shoulder as he got up and tilted his head toward the door. Tyler and Megan got up and followed him outside.
“That’s strange,” Daniel said as he opened the driver’s side door. Tyler followed his gaze back to the museum.
“What is?” he asked.
“That light on the third floor,” Daniel replied. “It’s blinking.”
“Maybe there’s a bulb that needs to be replaced,” Megan said.
“That’s not what it looks like to me,” Daniel said. “The light is almost blue.”
Just then Tom Petty started singing “Free Falling” from inside Daniel’s coat. He reached in and pulled out his phone.
“Hello?” he said into it. Tyler’s attention went into overdrive when he saw the look of panic that washed across his father’s face. “How long ago did it start? Okay. Where is Professor Robbins? Call me as soon as one of them radios in. I’m on my way!” He turned to Tyler. “Get in!”
Tyler and Megan climbed into the car and Daniel spun it in the opposite direction so hard that they were all thrown to one side. As they sped back down the street toward the museum Tyler thought he could hear the sound of police sirens. They seemed to get louder.
“Dad,” Tyler said. “What’s going on? What’s wrong?”
“The alarms are going off,” Daniel said.
“The motion alarm?” Tyler asked. “Those things haven’t worked right since you bought them.”
Daniel shook his head and Tyler could see his grip on the steering wheel was so tight his knuckles were white. “Not the motion alarm. The alarm on one of the display cases went off. Those are not that sensitive. They’d only be activated if someone broke the glass.”
It only took them a few seconds to make the two blocks back to the museum. Daniel pulled up to the curb, ignoring the fact that it was not only a no-parking zone, but also that he had pulled across the lanes so that he was now facing the opposite direction. He climbed out and began jogging up the steps toward the door. Tyler and Megan got out and began climbing after him.
“Stay here!” Daniel said. “It may be dangerous!”
“Dad, it can’t be any more dangerous than a city street in the middle of the night!” Tyler argued. By then Daniel had gotten to the door and was fishing through his keyring to find the right one. He almost never used the front door.
“Fine!” he said. “You’re right. But you’re staying in the lobby!”
He found the right key and opened the door just as three police cars came speeding around the corner and skidded to a stop.
_________________________________________________________________________
Jones stopped on the stairs connecting the second and third floors. The high-pitched whine of the alarm had pierced his ears and nearly sent him tumbling. He pulled the radio off of his hip and pressed the button.
“This is Jones,” he said. “What is that alarm for?”
“I don’t know, Stu,” a voice came over the radio. “It’s one of the glass alarms. It’s centered on three. Can you head back up there and check it out?”
“10-4,” he said. His supervisor on the other end did not say anything in return so he guessed he was ignoring his trucker lingo.
Jones walked back out into the third-floor hallway and immediately noticed that there were glass shards all over the floor outside of the main exhibition room.
“There’s glass on the floor by EX-3,” he said into his radio. “I’m going to go check it out.”
“No, Jones,” his supervisor said. “I’m sending Howard up there to back you up. Wait for him.”
“Whoever it was isn’t on here anymore, Chief,” Jones said. “I’ll be fine.”
“Jones, wait for Howard,” the radio repeated.
Jones shrugged. He put his radio back on his hip and pulled his revolver out of its holster. What the Chief did not know was not going to hurt him. He stuck close to the wall until he got to the door. He spun around the edge of the doorway with his weapon held out in front of him with both hands. He thought about yelling “Freeze”, but decided against it. His heart was pounding, and his head was swimming with adrenaline.
There was no one there.
He lowered his weapon and looked around the room. There was no one hiding in any of the corners and there really was nothing to hide behind. He saw the display case was destroyed, and evidently whatever item had been inside was gone. He pulled out his radio again to tell his boss what he had found. Then he decided to wait until Howard got up here since he was not supposed to be in this room.
That was when he noticed it.
At first, it was not something he saw. It was more like something he felt. There was a low buzz that seemed to come from deep inside his body. After a few seconds, it evidenced itself as a low hum that filled the room. Eventually, it centered itself on the display of the skeleton on the wall in front of him. The sound was coming from everywhere, but also specifically from there. It was the strangest sensation he had ever felt. That was when he noticed that the eyes appeared to be glowing.
“Oh my god!” he said to himself. He decided that he did not care how much trouble he was in. He pulled the radio back off the clip. “Chief! Something’s up with the skeleton thing in the new exhibit! It's glowing and humming! I swear to God!”
“Jones, I told you not to go in there!” the chief’s voice screamed over the radio. “Howard! Are you almost there?”
“I’m headed up the stairs now,” a deep voice called from the handset. “I’ll be there in a minute.”
“Hurry up,” the chief said. “Jones is seein’ things.”
“I’m not seeing things, Chief,” Jones said. “There’s something going on with…”
He did not finish his sentence. As he stared at the display the humming grew almost deafening before the entire thing seemed to explode. The room filled with a light so bright it was impossible to see anything. The sound caused his eardrums to instantly rupture, and he felt the blood run down the side of his face.
The light slowly dissipated. There was now simply a long, brilliant, white beam from the eyes of the display. It was running across the room and connecting with his chest. He was completely enveloped in a sort of golden mist. He looked down and found himself floating nearly three feet from the floor.
Jones looked over and saw Howard had finally made it to his location. He was looking from the display and back to his limp body as he screamed into his radio. Jones could not hear what he was saying, but he was sure that the chief would believe him now. As he hung there helplessly, he saw another beam erupt from the display and hit Howard squarely in the chest. It picked lifted into the air as well, and caused him to hang there just like him.
The two men floated motionless like two lifeless dolls for what seemed like hours. However, it only took a matter of seconds for the process to complete. The golden cloud grew thicker as their solid substance faded. After a time there was nothing in the room but the cloud, and it was dense enough that it could not be seen through. It was slowly pulled into the skeleton’s eyes like a vacuum cleaning up a mess.
When there was no sign left of the two men, the black rock that encased the skeleton began to crack.
_________________________________________________________________________
“I mean it, Ty,” Daniel McDawn said as he jogged toward the security office. “You and Megan stay in the lobby!”
“Okay, Dad,” Tyler said. He watched his dad disappear down the hall. He immediately started looking around the lobby. They were mostly alone. There were a few members of the crew were standing around. Evidently, they had been cleaning up when the alarm went off and security had gotten too busy to evacuate them.
Behind them, the doors were opening again and several police officers were coming in and running off to various places in the building.
“What are you doing?” Megan asked.
“Don’t you want to know what’s going on?” Tyler asked.
“Where is the security chief?” one of the policemen said.
“I’m not sure,” Tyler said.
“He’s in the security office,” one of the guys on the cleaning crew called out. Tyler turned toward him.
“Do you know what’s going on?” he asked.
“There’s a security radio in the kitchen,” the man said. “One of the guards called in from the third floor. He said there was broken glass in that new exhibit. He got cut off after that.”
“The third floor?” Megan asked. “Isn’t that where my grandfather’s exhibit is? Where is he?”
“Who?” the crewman asked.
“Professor Robbins,” Tyler said. “The man that spoke tonight.”
“Oh,” the man said. “I think I saw him in the security office.”
“I’ve got to find him,” she said.
“Okay,” Tyler said. “Calm down. I’ll take you there.”
“Wait a minute,” the police officer said. “Who are you guys?”
“I’m Tyler McDawn,” Tyler said. “Daniel is my dad.”
“Well, you’re going to stay right where you are,” the man said. He turned to another officer standing a few feet behind him. “Let’s get some guys up on three and at least one man on every exit. I’m heading to the security office.”
The other man started talking into his radio as they both jogged off toward the office side of the building. Tyler looked at Megan and saw the tears beginning to build up in her eyes.
“Tyler,” she said. “I have to get to him.”
Tyler nodded and took her by the hand. “Come on,” he said. They ran off in the other direction.
_________________________________________________________________________
“Professor, I haven’t got a clue what I’m gonna find up there,” the security chief was saying as Daniel stepped into the security office. “I can’t take you up there.”
“I’ve worked for the past decade on that exhibit!” the professor said. “I’m not asking you!”
“What’s going on?” Daniel asked. He looked around at the banks of monitors until he found the one for the third-floor exhibition hall. It was black. “The camera went out?”
“Yeah,” the chief said. He was a short, overweight man with an angry disposition. He sighed as he walked out into the hall with the other two men in tow. “I haven’t gotten a feed from that thing since the alarm went off. Jones and Howard were up there but I can’t raise them on the radio.”
“You’re headed up there?” Daniel asked.
“I have to,” the chief said. “I’ve only got three other men and they're searching the rest of the building. The Doc here wants to go with me but there could be anything up there.”
“It’s okay,” Daniel said. “We’ll all go.”
“Wonderful,” the chief replied. “So if something happens to two of the most important men in the city I can be the one to answer for it.” He looked over Daniel’s shoulder and breathed what seemed to be a sigh of relief. “Good. At least they’ll take some of the burden.”
Daniel turned around to find two police officers headed toward them. One of them was about the same age and build as the chief. The other one was a young and wiry man who seemed to be a little anxious.
“Are you Daniel McDawn?” the older officer asked.
“I am,” Daniel said.
“Sargent Joe Fines,” the man said. “You had an alarm get tripped?”
“Yes, sir,” Daniel said. “Two men have gone up but we lost contact.”
“I’ve got people on their way and I’m heading there myself,” Fines replied. “I think it would be best if you all just stayed here until we have an all-clear.”
“I think we’re all determined to go see what’s going on,” Daniel said. He saw the professor’s steely gaze and did not want to see the old man put into handcuffs.
“I’m with you, Fines,” the chief said. “Mr. McDawn and Mr. Robbins, you should both either stay here or head back to the lobby.”
“We’ll be fine, Chief,” Daniel said. They went into the stairwell and headed for the third floor.
_________________________________________________________________________
Tyler opened the door to the security office. It was empty. The monitors were showing various parts of the museum, but the only people that he could see were on the screen for the lobby where the few cleaning crewmen still hanging around and the two police officers left behind to guard the door.
“We must have just missed them,” Tyler said.
“Where would they have gone?” Megan asked.
“Upstairs, I guess,” he replied.
“Can we go up there?”
Tyler shook his head. “There are cops up there with their guns out, Megan. They wouldn’t know that we’re coming. We could get shot.”
Just as he said that he saw a dark blur move down the side hall at the end of the one they were in. He placed his hand on Megan’s shoulder and moved her aside. He stepped around her and looked toward the end of the hall.
“Tyler?” Megan asked.
“Hey!” Tyler yelled after a moment. He took off down the hall with Megan right behind him. When he reached the intersection he slid to a stop and started down the other hall in the direction he had seen the image. Halfway toward the door leading back out to the lobby, he came to a complete stop so quickly that Megan nearly barreled him over. She followed his gaze.
At the exit door was a man dressed in a long black coat. He looked at them. There was a small smile on his face that made them both shiver.
“I know you,” Tyler said.
“He’s the guy that was with the reporter,” Megan added.
“Yeah,” Tyler said. “Rayla, or something.”
The man rolled his eyes. “Raloam,” he said.
“Did you do all this?” Megan asked.
“You mean set off the alarm?” Raloam asked. “I guess.”
“What did you do?” Tyler asked.
“Follow me, Tyler,” Raloam said. “I have something for you.”
Without warning, he stormed through the door and down another hallway. Tyler shot out after him, and Megan tried her best to keep up. To Tyler’s surprise, the man did not head back to the lobby. He veered off toward the east wing of the building. They finally emerged in an area that was mostly taken up by a large classroom and a conference room. Raloam went into the conference room.
There was a loud crash. When Tyler got to the door he found Raloam had used a chair to break one of the huge windows that overlooked the street.
“I’m sorry I had to make you chase me,” Raloam said. “But I couldn’t stop until I got here.” He reached inside his coat and pulled out a small bundle wrapped in a handkerchief. “This is all that I took. I’m giving it back now.”
He tossed the bundle and it landed with a thump on the conference table. With that, he turned and leaped out the window. Since they were on the first floor he had no more than a ten-foot drop to the sidewalk. Tyler ran to the window and caught sight of him just as he was climbing into a dark-colored car. It sped off.
“That was weird,” Megan said.
“I know, right?” Tyler replied.
Megan walked over to the conference table and looked at the handkerchief. She unfolded it. Inside was an old coin. Tyler could tell it was the medallion they had seen in the slide show earlier that night. He stepped closer and looked at it more carefully. He saw the red jewel in the center and the writing etched across the surface. Near the bottom was another smaller jewel and an indention next to it as if it had once held something similar.
“So, why would he steal something if he’s just going to turn around and give it back?” Megan asked.
“I don’t know,” Tyler replied. “But I guess we should take it back to my dad since this is what all of the fuss is about.”
He reached out to grab it. As soon as his skin made contact with the surface Tyler felt an intense burning sensation run up his arm and throughout his entire body. He felt like millions of volts of electricity were running through his bloodstream. He screamed loudly, but the sound was covered by what felt like an atomic explosion that threw him into the air.
Tyler crashed through one of the other windows and fell hard on the sidewalk outside. He could hear Megan’s screams in the distance, but he could not move. He looked up just in time to see that the medallion was sailing toward him. The surface of it was glowing like a hot ember that had just been shot out of a campfire.
Then everything went dark and he passed out.
“Name, please,” the man said.
“Well, her name is Anya Gates,” Raloam said. Anya stepped up next to him as he placed his arm around her.
“And guest,” she said.
The man looked down at the tablet in front of him, slowly scrolling his finger across the screen. He tapped it a couple of times and looked up with a smile.
“Of course, Ms. Gates,” he said. “I have a note here that says that you’re expecting a crew later this evening.”
Anya gave a little laugh. “Not a crew. Just my cameraman. He’ll be here around nine thirty to set up for the ten o’clock news.”
“Of course, ma’am,” he replied. “We’ll take care of it. I’ll let you know when he arrives.”
“Thank you,” Raloam said and moved to walk up the steps. Anya reached out and grabbed him by the elbow. She gestured to the man with her eyes. Raloam looked upward as if he had forgotten something. He reached into his coat and slid a bill into the man’s hand. They smiled and started up the stairs.
“How much did you give him?” Anya asked.
“Ten bucks,” Raloam said. “Not that he’s going to be able to use it. Everyone in the city has switched to credits.”
“Really, Ray,” Anya said. “You’re not new to modern life. You still can’t remember to tip?”
“I’m not a people person,” Raloam said.
Another man in a tuxedo opened the front door for them and they moved into the main lobby. Several people were already moving about the room, and the wait staff were serving drinks and hors d’oeuvres. Anya immediately reached out and took a glass of champagne from the tray of a passing waiter.
“Is that wise?” Raloam asked. “You’re going to be on television in two hours.”
“It’s one glass, Ray,” she said. “I’m not going to get drunk before doing a report.”
“I hope not,” he replied. “Not if you’re planning on getting that anchor position that you’ve been hoping for.”
“Are you going to have any?” she asked.
“Not tonight,” he said. “I want to stay focused.”
“Do you see him yet?”
Raloam exhaled slowly, looking around the room. “No. He’s here, though. I can feel it. But he’s in another part of the building.”
Anya nodded, sipping her drink and taking a look around as well. Her senses were not as finely tuned as her companion’s, but she had sharpened her skills over the past few years.
“Do you want to find him?” she asked.
Raloam shook his head. “I don’t want to give any reason for us to have to leave before the time comes,” he said. “We don’t need to be seen in closed-off parts of the building. My guess is that he’s in one of the offices upstairs, getting ready for the banquet. We’ll bide our time.”
__________________________________________________________________________
“Dad, the photographer is ready.”
Daniel McDawn turned away from the conversation he was having with the caterer. He nodded and held up his index finger.
“Go ahead and open three cases of wine. Be sure everyone has a drink,” he said. “We’ll start seating for dinner in about twenty minutes.”
The caterer nodded and left. Daniel joined his son in front of the ornate desk to be used as the background for the picture. He hardly ever came into this office. He was not the a man who sat around making calls all day. He had opened museums around the world because he loved museums. So when he had the opportunity to be here, he took advantage of it and spent his time on the floor.
A man Tyler had not met was standing by the door. Daniel gestured for him to join them in the picture. The man came over and stood beside the two of them.
“Tyler,” Daniel said. “This is Professor Jonah Robbins. He’s the head of the team that made the discovery we’re showcasing tonight.”
Tyler reached out and shook hands with the man. He was taller than his father, and very thin. He was older as well, most likely in his late sixties. He smiled warmly, and Tyler could see his smile was genuine as he had a light dancing in his eyes. This was a man who was realizing something he had worked for his entire life.
“Pleased to meet you, Tyler,” Robbins said. “Your father has said a lot about you.”
“I don’t know if that’s good or bad,” Tyler said.
Robbins laughed. “Good. I assure you.”
“Okay,” the photographer called out to them. They turned their attention to him. “Smile!”
The three of them grinned as the camera flash went off. He took one more for good measure and gave them a thumbs up.
“So, are you planning to get into the museum business as well?” Robbins asked.
Tyler shook his head shyly. “No, sir. I’m not much of a history buff.”
“Tyler wants to be a writer,” Daniel said, placing his hand on his son’s shoulder. “He’s been writing short stories since he could hold a pencil.”
“Well, that’s impressive,” Robbins said. “Have you ever had anything published?”
“They put a couple of my stories in a magazine when I was younger,” Tyler said. “But they were kid magazines.”
“Tyler, don’t ever put a but on your accomplishments,” Robbins said, that little light shining in his eye again. “Be proud of the things you’ve done. Don’t feel like you have to justify their importance.”
Tyler smiled. That was the same thing his father said to him often. He did not know why he had to make things seem less than they were. He suspected it was because he thought people already thought he was a snob because of his father’s wealth. He never wanted to sound like he was bragging.
“Thank you, sir,” he said. The older man smiled and patted him on the back.
“My granddaughter is here tonight,” he said. “I think that she is about your age. If you don’t mind, I’d like you to spend a little time around her. She feels awkward at events like this.”
“I know the feeling,” Tyler said and they all laughed.
Robbins turned to Daniel and shook his hand. “Mr. McDawn, I thank you again for your hospitality. I’m looking forward to tonight.”
“I’ll see you downstairs in a few minutes,” Daniel said. He called out to the hallway for one of the security men and instructed him to see the professor got to the exhibit hall. The guard nodded and the two men left together. Daniel turned to Tyler. “You don’t have to babysit the professor’s granddaughter, Ty.”
“It’s alright, Dad,” Tyler said. “I don’t mind. We all have to do our part. Right?”
“Right,” Daniel said. He looked his son in the eye and straightened his tie. “Look at you. A grown-up.”
“Big boy clothes and everything,” Tyler replied with a laugh.
“Your mom would be proud of you,” Daniel said.
Tyler looked down and then back to his dad with a smile. They did not bring up his mother often. It was a sore subject for both of them.
“Thanks, Dad,” he said. It was all he could think of to say. With his father’s arm across his shoulder, they stepped out into the hallway and moved toward the elevator.
__________________________________________________________________________
There were about five hundred people on the guest list for the gala. As the glass elevator dropped down into the main museum building, Tyler could see that almost all of them had made it, most of them bringing a guest. With all of the service personnel moving around, there looked to be more than a thousand people. The guests were in the main banquet area outside the exhibit halls. The wait staff was already starting to serve dinner.
Tyler and his father stepped off the elevator. A young lady met them there and walked them to the table set up by the podium on the stage. A huge banner hung across the entrance to the area that said “The Birmingham Museum of Natural History Welcomes Professor Jonah Robbins”. There was also a slide show projected onto a blank wall with pictures of the professor and various other men and women working on the excavation site in Greece. There were huge holes dug at the foot of a mountain, and into the rock face itself. Pictures of various artifacts Tyler could tell very little about flashed slowly on the screen. Vases, pots, bones, coins, and some that looked like little more than rocks.
“What exactly did he find, Dad?” Tyler asked as they were seated at their table. Their salads were already there, waiting for them.
“Well, it's a little more than I can explain five minutes before the program, Ty,” Daniel said. He took a sip of the water in front of him. “Just wait. The professor will explain everything.”
Daniel McDawn had hired John Larrington to serve as the master of ceremonies at the gala. Larrington was the face of WIET’s “Good Day”, a morning news and entertainment show. He was exactly as one would have imagined. His hair and suit were perfect, and his smile was irritatingly permanent. He showed his glowing white teeth at every chance he got, and he gave himself plenty of chances.
At precisely eight o’clock, Larrington marched to the podium and switched on the microphone. He introduced himself and made a few jokes about the museum and several of the members of high society who were in attendance. Tyler was not sure how funny his father thought the jokes were. Especially the dinosaurs being bored into fossils by tonight’s speakers, or that he was going to the mummy room to cruise for chicks. Tyler just rolled his eyes. His father looked at him and gave a smirk and a wink. His father may have been a well-off museum mogul, but he still had a good sense of humor.
Finally, Larrington turned his attention to Daniel McDawn. He thanked him for bringing such positive attention to the city, and for all the work he had already put into the community. Tyler did not know to what community work he was referring. His father was a charitable man, but since they had arrived in the city he had barely left the museum for much more than a few hours of sleep.
Daniel got up and took over the podium. He leaned into the microphone and thanked Larrington, joking about his having the nicest teeth outside the Tyrannosaurus exhibit.
“I would like to thank you all for coming tonight,” he said. “It hasn’t been very long since we opened the doors on this establishment, and to already be having an event of this magnitude is really something.”
“I’ve had the honor of managing six museums of various kinds worldwide. They have all had the standard exhibits you would expect to find at any other museum in any other major city. We’ve had permanent exhibits of rare fossils, and the remains of many extinct species. A lot of artifacts from different periods in history, such as armor and weapons, can be found here and at our other facilities. We’ve had many exhibits that have visited us for a short time, with art from famous artists like Van Gogh, Da Vinci, and Worhol.
“However, the fact that Professor Robbins has uncovered an entire city at the base of what was once an active volcano is tremendous. There have been stories about the city of Dartha for generations, and we’ve always thought it was just an old tale. Something to tell your children in the old days to frighten them into behaving. Be good, or you’ll be burned like they were in Dartha. But now we know that the city was real. And while we have a long way to go in understanding what happened to it so long ago, I’m proud the professor has allowed us to become the permanent home to some of the things he has uncovered so far.
“And now, to talk more about his discovery, I’d like to turn the stage over to Professor Jonas Robbins.”
The room erupted into applause as Daniel stepped back from the microphone. Professor Robbins got up from his chair and walked across the stage. He shook Daniel's hand and turned to the audience. Daniel sat down in his chair and glanced at his son.
“That was good, Dad,” Tyler said.
Daniel smiled. Tyler knew that his dad was accustomed to speaking in front of a crowd. But Daniel had always made a point to congratulate him on his accomplishments, so Tyler tried to do the same.
“Thank you, Daniel,” Professor Robbins said as he pulled his glasses and notes from his coat pocket. “I’m not sure of which I’m more envious of. Your wealth, your youth, or the fact that you know more about history than I do.” The audience chuckled.
“You’re the one with the Ph.D.,” Daniel called out and the professor nodded with a smile.
“Ten years ago my team and I decided that we believed the city of Dartha to be a real place. Since that time I have spent most of my time in Greece. We made the initial discovery of evidence of a human presence in the fields on the very boundaries of the country. These remains appear to be no less than three thousand years old. After that, we went about trying to prove that what we had discovered was indeed the lost city we were in search of.”
The professor began a long speech about the legend of Dartha. Tyler had heard the stories before. His father was a huge fan of classic Greek mythology, and he can remember a lot of books lying around his office on the subject. He had always liked looking at the pictures of Zeus and Hercules, and listening to stories of the gods and goddesses. The city of Dartha was only mentioned in a couple of those stories. But Daniel had books that were completely dedicated to the subject.
The actual story, as it was told to Tyler, was not very complex. There was a city that was more advanced than any other city in the country at the time. It was believed it was helped by magic. There had been an old mage that most people agreed went by the name of Kalan. He protected the city with the magic he got from the spirits of ancient warriors and animals.
That was all that was known of the city. The rest of what had been in Daniel’s books was speculation of what became of it. A lot of people believed the city had been at the foot of what the citizens believed to be a mountain. It was a volcano that erupted, burying the city in hot lava. Another belief is that the valley it rested in flooded and buried the city under a massive amount of mud. Of course, some believed that either one of these could be true, but that the disaster was brought about by a magical battle between Kalan and someone else.
“Now I want to show you a couple of the items that have been uncovered,” Robbins said. He had been speaking for about twenty minutes and showing several pictures of the excavation on the screen. “There are twenty different things that will be on display in the exhibition hall, and hopefully there were be a few more joining them over the next few months. But one or two items are of particular interest to me, and I would like to tell you about them.”
__________________________________________________________________________
Raloam sighed and Anya shot him a look that quickly told him to be quiet. He was not good at this. Sitting in one place for a long time and listening to someone talk was one of the most difficult things he ever had to do. It was in his nature to move. It was also in his nature to stay away from crowds. He was completely out of his element here.
But this was the part of the night he had been waiting for.
“The first item is a medallion that I find extraordinary,” Professor Robbins said. Instantly, the image of his excavation team on the wall vanished and was replaced by a round, ancient-looking coin, scarred with time. In its center was a small red stone that was dull with age, but still seemed to shine.
Raloam inhaled deeply.
Anya looked at him. “Is that it?” she asked. He nodded but did not speak.
“This medallion would not have been used as currency,” the professor said. “It most likely was a decoration or a symbol of wealth. The stone in the center is pure ruby, and there is a carving on the back of it. You’ll be able to see it more clearly when we move to the hall. But the carving appears to be writing although no one on my team can identify the language. There is also a cat or a lion drawn above the writing.”
“Or a griffin,” Raloam muttered. Anya was the only one that heard him. She reached over and squeezed his hand.
“Patience, Ray,” she said. He sighed.
“Most of the other items found were relics of the time,” Robbins continued. “Pottery and jewelry of many different types. And we found a lot of bones. But the other item I find the most interesting is this.” The image on the wall changed to a huge chunk of black rock lying inside a display case. After a moment the audience was able to see that there was a clear outline of an entire human skeleton encased in the rock. “This rock was once red hot lava. This was found in a small cave inside the mountain that used to be a volcano. We aren’t sure who this person was, but it is clear to us that he died by being covered by the lava. What is amazing is that the bones were not disintegrated by the heat of the liquid rock. Every bone in the human body has been accounted for. All of them are perfectly preserved and encased in this rock.”
Anya winced and realized that Raloam was squeezing her hand to the point that it hurt. She yanked her hand away and looked at him. He was staring at the image on the wall so hard it looked as though his eyes would set fire to the building.
“Ray,” she said. “What’s wrong?”
“Gods!” he whispered loudly.
That was stupid.
He cursed himself silently. The kid had seen him, and that was not supposed to happen. It had never happened before. He knew his skills were beginning to fade, but he had thought he still had it in him to go unnoticed by a child. He had been following him for ten years and never left so much a hair or shadow to be found.
He cursed again.
He peeked around the corner of the pillar toward the bookstore where the kid had been a few moments before. He was gone now. He pulled his greasy ponytail off his shoulder and let it hang behind him. He ran his fingers over the scruffy stubble on his face. He could not screw up now. It had been too long to let it all fall apart now.
He reached into his tattered coat and pulled his watch out of his pocket. The chain had broken long ago but the mechanics were still running after all of these years. He pressed the small button that let the face open and looked at the time. It was almost four o’clock. It was time to prepare for tonight. He was supposed to pick up Anya at seven.
All thought stopped at the distinctive click that perked his ears. It had come from behind him. He had not heard anyone walk up, and that was another mistake he would not have made in the past.
Now that he was alerted, his senses kicked in. He knew exactly what position the sound had come from. He could also see in his mind that there were three other bodies scattered behind him at different points. He knew where they were within an inch.
“Hey, weird Jesus,” a voice called from behind him. He could practically see the gun in his hand. From the sound it made when the wielder pulled the hammer back, it had to be a nine-millimeter. From the high-pitched sound of the voice, it was held by a young Hispanic male of about twenty-two. He was probably even holding it sideways.
“I don’t want any trouble,” Raloam said.
“Well, you got some,” the young man said. “I saw that watch you just put in your pocket. I want it!”
“Okay,” Raloam said. “That’s not a problem. Just let me get it.”
“Move slow, Scruffy,” another voice called out. This one came from his right, but still quite a good distance behind him. The owner of the second voice was older than the gunman.
Raloam held his hands in the air and slowly moved his right hand back into his coat to retrieve the watch. He took a breath and centered himself. He closed his eyes and felt his heart rate slow almost to a complete stop. He tuned his ears, listening to the breath of the men behind him. The sound had gone from extremely nervous and fast to extremely slow.
What he did next felt like he was in slow motion. It was as if someone had turned down the speed for the entire world. He pulled the watch from his pocket and turned around to face his attackers. Four men were standing ten feet behind him. Six or seven feet of space separated each man. They all appeared to be standing completely motionless, like gangster statues. This was good. It was just like practice.
The watch left his fingers with precise accuracy and struck the man with the gun square in the forehead. He slowly began to fall. His hand released its grip, and the gun fell at a snail’s pace to the ground. It landed with a thump and an exaggerated explosion filled the air. Raloam could see the bullet make its way from the barrel of the weapon to the shoulder of one of the other men. He screamed and began his descent to the pavement.
Raloam launched his body into the air and put both feet onto the chest of one of the remaining men. He stood on the man for a second before reaching down and landing a punch on the man’s temple. He looked over to see that the final man was just beginning to react to the gunshot. He swung one leg out and connected it with his nose. The man sailed through the air, crashing hard into one of the concrete pillars.
Raloam stepped off of the man and looked around. It had all happened in less than three seconds. The passing of time seemed to catch up again and he could hear the cars passing overhead once more. The man with the gunshot wound was groaning, his blood spilling all over the ground. Raloam picked up his watch from the ground and wiped the dust from it before returning it to his pocket.
He knelt on the ground next to the man who was bleeding and pulled his hand from the wound. The man looked at him and started to draw back but Raloam put his hand on his throat.
“Relax,” he said. “I won’t hurt you unless you cause me to.” The man grimaced but allowed him to continue. He grabbed the man’s shirt and ripped it down the front and looked at where the bullet had struck him. “You’re going to be alright. The bullet passed through and it didn’t hit anything. Do you have a phone?”
“Yeah, man,” the thug replied.
“Call an ambulance. Your friends will be waking up soon. I think the one I landed on has a couple of cracked ribs.”
Raloam turned and began walking away, back toward the street.
“How did you do that,?” the man called from behind him. “Who the hell are you?”
Raloam pulled his last cigarette out of his shirt pocket and put it between his lips as he kept walking. “Don’t worry about it,” he said.
__________________________________________________________________________
“Jesus! Where have you been?”
Raloam stepped into Anya’s apartment and pulled his coat off. “I got held up,” he said.
“Well, I didn’t know that the plan was to just show up when everybody else got there,” she replied. “I thought that we were gonna check the place out first.”
“We are, Anya,” he said. “Would you relax? We’ve got some time.”
He watched her walk toward the bedroom and he realized that she was dressed for the occasion. Anya usually dressed nicely, as her job required her to have a certain amount of style. But usually, it was just a nice top and a skirt, or possibly a pantsuit. Right now she was wearing a black dress that came down to her knees and exposed a lot of skin up top. Her blonde hair was pulled up in a way that looked like it had been easy to do classic and stylish at the same time.
“Anya,” he said.
She stepped back into the hallway and looked at him as she put on her earrings.
“What?” she asked.
“You look nice,” he replied.
She rolled her eyes. “Like you notice things like that anymore.”
“I’m still a guy,” he said with a grin.
“At your age?” she said, laughing. “Ray, you’re barely human.”
Raloam looked at the mirror next to the front door and ran a hand through his hair. He could once see nothing but solid black. Now he had several gray hairs on his head, and more appeared in his beard every day.
“Ray,” Anya was saying. He looked over at her and raised his eyebrows. “Are you going to get dressed? You can’t go like that. You look like you haven’t showered in days.”
“I haven’t,” he replied. “That’s the look that I’m going for.”
“Well, we’re not supposed to stand out tonight,” she said. “Now, I went through a lot of trouble to get us into this thing. The least you can do is look presentable. And I want you to shave!”
Raloam nodded and went into the other bedroom. His bedroom. Although he lived here he could not quite call it home. He always referred to it as Anya’s. It was mostly because she did not charge him any money to live here. She had told him a long time ago that he was welcome to stay with her for as long as he needed. He knew that most people said things like that without any real meaning behind it. But with Anya, it had been sincere. She had gotten him off of the streets. And even though it had been his choice to live on the streets in the first place, it was nice to have somewhere to go.
He closed the door and went to the closet. He did not have a lot of clothes. He spent most of his time alone, melding himself into the homeless community of the cities he resided in that it did not make much sense to carry around a lot of extra things. But he kept some here for those times when he needed to mix into other classes of society. Tonight he would be with the high rollers, so he would have to look like one.
He had a tuxedo, but he was not going to wear that. He thought the museum event was going to be fancy, but he did not want to look like he was going to the prom. He reached into the back and found the black Armani. It was covered in a plastic dry cleaning bag he had left there to protect it from dust. He had only had a chance to wear it once since buying it a few years ago. He hung it on the closet door and stepped into the bathroom.
__________________________________________________________________________
“Wow,” Anya said when he finally emerged from the bedroom ten minutes later. “You clean up nice.”
Raloam smiled as he clipped his cufflink into place. “Thanks,” he said.
She brushed his lapel and adjusted his tie. “I’m still amazed at how fast you can do that. You even shaved.”
“Well, I trimmed. I told you there was nothing to worry about,” he said. He pulled his watch out of his pocket and opened it. “Look at that. Plenty of time.”
“Yeah,” Anya said. “Enough time for you to take me to dinner.”
After school, he made his way to the front door of the building and stepped out onto the steps. Most of the other students went out on the other side because that was the street where the bus stop and student parking lot were located. There was also a driveway for parents to pull in to pick up their children. Tyler had glanced out that door as he passed by. There were no limos, Mercedes, or BMWs out there. That was another difference.
He reached into his coat pocket to get his phone. He did not know why he had picked this coat. It had been raining this morning, so he had naturally decided he needed a raincoat. He did not think he should have shown up for his first day in a three-hundred-dollar coat from J. Crew. Most of the other kids looked like their clothes had come from GAP, and he now wished he had gone for that look, too. No one said anything to him about his clothes, but he had caught a couple of glances and heard some whispers. He guessed that was what they were talking about.
Just as he was dialing the number to get a taxi to come and pick him up, the door opened and he was nearly knocked down the steps by the boy coming out. The guy had a stack of books in one hand and was carrying a cardboard box filled with wires and other bits of computer hardware under his other arm. The boy never saw Tyler, but Tyler saw him as he was about to blindly step off the steps and crash to the sidewalk. He put his arm out and stopped him just as he held his foot out into thin air.
“Hey!” Tyler said, a bit loudly. “You’re gonna fall!”
The boy stopped and took a step back. He looked at Tyler with a confused look in his eye.
“Uh, thanks,” he said. “It’s hard to see with all of this stuff .”
Tyler took the box from him and tucked it into the crook of his arm.
“Here,” he said. “I’ll help you. Where are you headed?”
“Huh?” the guy said. “Oh! I’m just going to my dad’s store. It’s a block that way.” He pointed down the street.
“Okay,” Tyler said. “Let me carry this for you. I wouldn’t want you to have an accident.”
“Thanks,” the kid said. He still sounded confused and even a little bit nervous. “I’m Stan. Uh, Callahan. Stan Callahan.”
Tyler held his hand out and Stan took it. They shook.
“I’m Tyler McDawn.”
“Oh, I know who you are,” Stan said. “We have lit together.”
“Third period?” Tyler asked. It was a genuine question. He still had not memorized his class schedule.
“Yeah,” Stan said. “And you live in my Grandfather’s building.”
“You’re Grandfather lives in the Simmons building?” Tyler asked.
“No,” Stan replied. “He owns it. He’s Daniel Simmons.”
“Oh,” Tyler said. “Wow! I think I met him last weekend when we were moving in.”
“You did,” Stan said. “He told me about you. He said you looked like a smart guy.”
“Well, I wish you had introduced yourself earlier,” Tyler said. “I haven’t really met that many people since I moved to town.” They started walking down the steps and turned in the direction Stan had indicated.
“I wouldn’t want to wreck your reputation,” Stan said, smiling shyly.
Tyler cocked an eyebrow. “What does that mean?”
Stan made a gesture toward Tyler’s clothes and pointed at his shoes. “You’re one of the rich kids. You could be popular at this school. You don’t need to be seen hanging around me. I’m just a techie nerd.”
Tyler smiled. “Stan, I’m not like that. Really. That kind of social ladder stuff doesn’t phase me. I make friends with people I want to be friends with.”
“Well, you may not be like that but everyone else is,” Stan said. “Like right now. If someone saw you and I walking together, people would hold that against you later.”
“Screw ‘em,” Tyler said. “I told you. I don’t care about stuff like that.”
“Well, then you’re a rare breed,” Stan said.
“Maybe,” Tyler replied. “Besides, if your grandfather owns the Simmons building then your family has to be pretty well off.”
“Yeah,” Stan said. “He is, anyway. My dad owns a used bookstore down the block. But I guess you can call my family rich. They want me to go to some fancy boarding school that’s like fifty miles from here, but the science department sucks. I had to beg them to let me go to school here.”
Tyler glanced down at the box that he was carrying. He had already seen the wires in it. Under it, there appeared to be a couple of circuit boards and some other various metal and plastic objects. “What’s in the box?”
“Oh, it’s just some supplies,” Stan said. “I’m building a computer.”
“You’re building a computer?” Tyler said. “You say it like it's easy.”
“It's not hard,” Stan said. “I mean, I’ve got some old ones at my house that I’ve taken apart a bunch of times. I know how they go back together. I’ve been trying to learn how to write programs.”
Tyler grinned. “And, you’re seventeen?”
“Fifteen,” Stan said shyly. “I skipped the eighth and ninth grades.”
“That’s cool,” Tyler said. “I know how to use a computer well enough to update my Gram and watch the cat playing the piano on YouTube. That’s about it. Unless you count playing Xbox games.”
They both laughed as they crossed the street to the bookstore. Just as they reached the sidewalk, Tyler happened to glance back to the side they had just come from. A man was standing in the shadows of an overpass about a block away. He looked like he had long hair that was pulled into a ponytail and then draped over his shoulder, so that it was visible from the front. He had on a long black coat, like Tyler’s raincoat but much older and worn. He was staring at them.
“Tyler?” Stan asked. He followed Tyler’s gaze and saw the man, but he was turning away and headed down the street. “Somebody you know?”
“He looks familiar.” Tyler did not know why he said that. The man did not look familiar. He was sure it was no one he had ever seen before. But at the same time, he felt like it was someone he was supposed to know. “It doesn’t matter. Is this your dad’s store?”
They went inside. The place was exactly the kind of place Tyler imagined it would be. It was small, and filled with bookshelves. There had to be at least twenty shelves that were ten feet long and seven feet tall. They were filled on both sides with books that looked anywhere from almost new to almost dust. A desk was in the front corner of the store, not far from the door. A thin man was sitting at that desk, typing away on a laptop.
“Hi, Dad,” Stan said, setting his books down on the desk. He took the box from Tyler and set it there as well.
The man looked up from his computer screen and smiled. He adjusted his glasses.
“Hi, son,” he said. “Time got away from me. I didn’t realize that it was after three o’clock already.”
“My dad is a writer,” Stan said to Tyler. “He writes for the Tribune. He usually does his writing here at the store.”
“Who is this?” Stan’s dad asked.
“This is Tyler,” Stan said. “Today was his first day. He helped me carry my stuff here.”
“Oh,” Mr. Callahan replied as he reached a hand out to Tyler. “Well, that was good of you, Tyler. Do you mind if I ask where you’re from?”
Tyler accepted the hand and shook it. “Atlanta, most recently,” he said. “My father runs the natural history museum downtown.”
“Ah, yes,” Mr. Callahan said. “Daniel McDawn. I’m covering the gala tonight. Which reminds me, Stan. You need to get home quickly and change if you’re planning to go with me. Your mom picked your suit up from the cleaners this morning. Tyler, is there something wrong?”
Stan’s father was referring to the wide-eyed look of panic that had just come across Tyler’s face. He pulled his phone from his pocket and looked at the time.
“I’m fine,” he replied. “It's just that I forgot about the gala. I’m supposed to be home by four to meet my dad. I’ve got to go!”
“You’re never going to make it to the Simmons building by four,” Stan said. But Tyler was already gone. He was running down the street and trying to dial his phone at the same time.
__________________________________________________________________________
“Hey, kid!” Tyler stopped and wheeled around, sliding on the heel of his shoe. The taxi was coming to a stop about half a block behind him. “Are you the one that called a cab?”
“Yes!” Tyler yelled breathlessly. He jogged to the car and slid into the back seat. He was surprised to see that this was the same taxi that he was in this morning, and the same man was driving it. “I need to get to the Simmons building.”
He closed the door and the man guided the car away from the curb and back into traffic. They made their way toward the other end of town at a steady speed. The traffic would not pick up for another hour or so, but there was always a heavy stream of cars at all hours.
“You’re my first fare to ever call for an on-the-go pickup,” the driver said with a laugh. He looked in his mirror and noticed that Tyler was still pretty red-faced and breathing heavily. “You okay, kid?”
“Yeah,” Tyler said. “I’m just out of breath.” The truth was that he had asthma. He did not usually worry about it because it only flared up when he got out of breath. He did not play any sports, so it was not usually an issue. He hardly ever carried his inhaler with him, and today was no different. Had he known that he would be forced to run ten blocks he would have grabbed it.
“Well, we’re gonna have to take the long way ‘round,” the man said. Tyler groaned. “Sorry, but they’ve got a big chunk of downtown closed off. The mayor’s makin’ a big speech today.”
Tyler remembered hearing about it on television this morning while he was getting dressed for school. The mayor was appointing a task force to tackle the rising crime rates in the city. From what he heard, Birmingham had nearly three hundred violent crimes in the past year, and two-thirds of those had ended in death. He had to hand it to his dad. Going to a violent city with one a low graduation rate, much less a terrible economy, and opening one of the largest natural history museums in the world had to be risky. He had a lot riding on this museum, which in turn had a lot riding on the gala tonight.
Sure enough, Tyler looked in front of him and saw nothing but brake lights stretching for at least three blocks. A lot of people must have decided to park here and wait out the speech. It was scheduled to last a couple of hours but Tyler knew it could not last too long because the mayor and his wife were supposed to be appearing at the museum gala tonight.
“Stupid,” the driver muttered as he made a left-hand turn to an area between two buildings that Tyler was not even sure was meant for cars. “This guy don’t do nothin’ but sit on his butt and take his pay! The only time you hear from him is when he’s doin’ stuff like this. Holdin’ up traffic and stuff!”
The driver did not seem to care for the mayor.
“If you ask me, I’d say that he’s the whole problem!” the driver continued.
“The mayor?” Tyler asked. He did not know why he cared. He guessed he was just trying to keep his mind off of the fact that they had just cut around a stopped school bus and had driven with one wheel on the sidewalk for at least ten feet.
“Yeah,” the man behind the wheel replied. “This town was something back in the day. Low crime rate. Lotsa jobs. Not a whole lotta folks standin’ in line down at the soup kitchen. Then this guy gets in office and it all goes ta crap. You follow politics?”
“Not really,” Tyler said. “I took a government class last year. But that was back in Atlanta.”
“Ah, yer just a kid anyway,” the man said. “You’ll be worryin’ ’bout this stuff in a few years, though.”
__________________________________________________________________________
It was a pretty quick trip and Tyler found himself easing across the seat and opening the door after only ten minutes. He looked down at his phone. He was late, but he was not as late as he had feared.
He gave the driver his driver’s license just like he had this morning. The driver slid it through his reader and another green “accepted” appeared on the screen. Tyler thanked the man and stepped out of the car onto the sidewalk in front of the Simmons building. He nodded to the doorman in the long red coat who smiled and opened the door for him.
“Good afternoon, Mr. McDawn,” the man said with a light trace of an English accent. “I’ve just gotten a call from your father.”
Tyler looked at him and winced. “You have?”
The man grinned. “Yes, sir. He’s in quite a state.”
Tyler rolled his eyes. “Wonderful,” he said.
Five minutes later he approached the door of the apartment he shared with his father. He heard a beep and a click as the lock let go of the door. He turned the knob and went inside. His father was standing ten feet away, having heard the door.
“Tyler,” he started.
“Dad, I’m not that late,” Tyler started. “The gala doesn’t even start until eight.”
“Yes, son,” Daniel McDawn was saying. “But I have to be there at six. I have a photographer coming to take pictures of the exhibit and the caterer already has people there setting up for the banquet.”
“Well, go,” Tyler said. “I can get there on my own. I made it to school and back. Didn’t I?”
“We’re supposed to show up together,” he replied. “There will be reporters taking a lot of pictures when I get out of the limo, and I would like to arrive with my family. That’s you, Ty. Your tux is in your room.”
Tyler shook his head and made his way through the apartment toward his room. “I don’t see why this thing is such a big deal. You had parties like this all the time in New York and London.”
“This is different,” Daniel said, halfway following his son down the hallway. “You don’t realize what we’re unveiling tonight. The excavation in Greece has uncovered some really remarkable things, and we get to display some of the highlights right here.”
“I know the drill, Dad,” Tyler was saying from inside his room. His tuxedo was hanging on the closet door and he began pulling off his shoes to get dressed. “I’ve seen all of the fossils and mummies before. I grew up in museums.”
“This is more than just fossils and mummies,” Daniel said as he stood in the doorway. Tyler was busy pulling on the tuxedo pants and Daniel looked at his curly hair. “Aren’t you going to take a shower?”
Tyler rolled his eyes and pulled the pants back off. He turned and walked into the bathroom and closed the door.
“What’s different about it?” he called through the door.
“This is evidence of ancient stories that even the Greeks didn’t believe in,” Daniel said. He heard the shower start running. “I don’t have time to go into the stories right now, but I’m going to talk about it tonight. I gave you a copy of the press release.”
“I didn’t read it,” Tyler said.
“Oh, right,” Daniel replied. “I forgot that you don’t like to read books without pictures.”
“You’re talking about comics, Dad. And I haven’t read one of those since I was fourteen.”
Daniel grinned. “Anyway, this is an important step in my career. I’ve run several museums, but this could be the one that I’m known for after this exhibit opens. And it could help to bring a lot of positive attention to this town.”
The shower stopped and a couple of minutes later Tyler stepped out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist. He folded his arms across his chest. He did not like to be seen without a shirt on. He still felt like he was underdeveloped for his age. He guessed he looked fine, but he wanted some definition in his arms and chest.
“I’m sorry I was late, Dad,” he said. “I’m proud of you and everything is going to be fine tonight.”
Daniel smiled. “I know it will. But it’s hard not to be nervous about things like this. By the way, I was so flustered when you came in that I didn’t ask you about school. How was your first day?”
“It was fine,” Tyler said. “Teachers, classes, lunch. You know.”
“Did you make any friends?”
Tyler rolled his eyes but laughed at the same time. “What am I? Twelve?”
“Well, did you?” Daniel asked again with a chuckle.
“I met this one kid named Stan,” Tyler said. “His grandfather owns this building and his dad writes for the newspaper. He’s going to be there tonight.”
“Good,” Daniel said. “Make sure to introduce me.”
“I will,” Tyler said. “Now go away and let me get dressed.”
Daniel turned and walked toward the door of the bedroom. “Okay, but hurry. The car will be here in half an hour.”
Tyler promised he would. He closed the door behind his father and started getting dressed for the evening.
Tyler rubbed his eyes slowly, trying his best to get the thudding pain pushing against them to ease up. He had taken three Aspirin before he left home, but they did not even begin to touch the fire burning in his skull. He reached into his backpack and got his sunglasses. It was a cold, rainy day, and he was pretty sure he would not see the sun at all, but he needed to turn the brightness down a little. In his mind, he could almost see the little bar at the bottom of a television screen, and he willed the notch to move to the left.“Late night?”
Tyler lifted his head off the headrest and looked at the man driving the car.
“No,” he said. His voice sounded a bit rough, and he cleared his throat. “No. I didn’t get much sleep last night. I’m just a little nervous.”
“Big day today?” the man asked.
“I’m new in town,” Tyler answered. “This is my first day at this school.”
The man nodded, and began talking about how he was always nervous on his first day of blah, blah, blah. The only thing Tyler hated about riding in a taxi was small talk. The smell and the filth of sitting in the same backseat as a million other passengers were bearable. It was the constant chatter that he hated.
Tyler would not normally be in a taxi. Most of the time, he would either drive himself unless he was in a new city, which happened a lot. If he was unsure of where to go, his father would have one of his drivers take him where he needed to go. His cars were not as fancy as you would imagine. They were usually either a late model town car of some sort. His father hated limos, and he refused to buy anything that was not made in America.
Today he was in a taxi because he was going to a new school. Tyler’s father was an investor with interests in several museums all over the world. Over the past six years, they lived in four of the biggest cities in the world. London, New York, Tokyo, and Atlanta. Last year his father got involved in a group opening large exhibits in smaller cities. That led them here, but there were no private schools within fifty miles of Birmingham, Alabama.
That suited Tyler. He hated going to school with a bunch of rich, spoiled brats, even though he realized he was one of them. His father hated putting his son into a public school and promised it would not be long before they were on to something else.
Tyler decided that it did not matter. Public school might be a nice change of pace. He hoped he could at least meet some people his age that cared about more than how much money everyone else’s parents were worth. But he also knew that if he wanted to make any friends at all, he had better not show up for his first day of school in a town car with one of his father’s drivers behind the wheel. He didn’t know enough about the city to drive himself, so a taxi was the next best thing.
The car pulled up to the curb outside the school, and Tyler looked at the rain pounding on the window, and the puddles forming on the sidewalk. He sighed as he pulled his wallet out of the pocket of his jeans.
“How much is it?” he asked the driver.
“Seven fifty,” the man said. He sounded a little put out, and Tyler guessed he had realized he had not been listening to him for the past several miles. It was enough to make Tyler feel a little bad but not enough to warrant an apology. That would probably make it a little more awkward.
“Seven dollars and fifty cents?” Tyler asked. “That’s not a whole lot for an eight-mile trip.”
The driver chuckled. “I forgot you said you was from outta town. We don’t do dollars in Birmingham. We got the credits. Comes out to ’bout twenty-three bucks.”
Tyler sighed. He was used to Atlanta, where they were still doing both. Smaller cities like Birmingham had been easier to roll over to the new system.
The credit system started a couple of years ago, but it takes time to get an entire planet to accept the same currency. He had not had his money transferred since getting to town. He hoped his father had put some credits on his account for him.
Tyler pulled his driver’s license out of his wallet and handed it to the driver who swiped it through the machine mounted on the dashboard. Instantly, the image from Tyler’s government file was displayed on the little screen. Beside it was his name and a green light with the word “Accepted” written on it. Tyler let out a little breath. His father thought of everything.
“Alright, Bud,” the driver said. “You’re good to go. Welcome to Birmingham. Good luck to ya.”
Tyler let a slight smile pass through the haze of pain pounding through his head and stepped out of the taxi.
Before he could get two feet from the curb, his hair was already a soaking mess. He pulled his umbrella from his backpack and opened it. A gust of wind nearly pulled it from his hands as he got another grasp on it. This time he clutched it like he was welding a Samurai sword.
The wind was blowing hard enough that the rain seemed to come from the side. Tyler was tempted to turn the umbrella toward the wind and use it more like a shield, but he decided it would not be a good idea. He was not sure how many people might be watching from the school windows. He held his umbrella above his head and got soaked.
He finally reached the front door and stepped into the main hallway. Umbrellas and raincoats were lining the wall, dripping the morning rain all over the linoleum floor. A “Wet Floor” sandwich board sign was standing in the middle of the floor, and he guessed a janitor with a mop would be there within a few minutes. Tyler closed his umbrella and propped it along the wall with the others.
“Are you Tyler McDawn?”
Tyler had been in the middle of adjusting the collar on his raincoat when he heard his name. It took a second for him to register. He had not expected anyone at this school to know who he was. He looked up and saw a young girl leaning against the wall. She looked to be about fourteen and had blonde hair down to her shoulder with a dark streak of black right where it parted. She was thin, wearing a pair of skinny jeans and a sweatshirt with a panther, the school mascot, emblazoned across the front.
“I’m sorry?” Tyler asked.
The girl chuckled. “I asked you if you were Tyler McDawn?”
“Uh, yeah,” he replied, adjusting his backpack onto his shoulder. “Yeah, I am.”
“I’m Donna,” the girl said. “I’m on the welcome committee. I’m supposed to welcome you to Western Heights High.”
Tyler looked around and smiled. It was just the two of them in the hallway. It was not the biggest of welcoming committees.
“You’re the welcoming committee?” he asked.
“No,” she replied. “I’m on the committee. There were two other girls here a few minutes ago. You’re kind of late.”
Tyler pulled his phone out of his pocket and glanced at it. “The rain slowed me down. But it’s only three minutes after eight.”
“School starts fifteen minutes before eight,” she said, laughing. “It’s no big deal. Mrs. Edwards told me to hang out for a few minutes to see if you showed.” She made a gesture in his direction. “You did.”
Tyler smiled. “I did. Thanks for waiting. What happens now?”
“Well, I’m supposed to take you to the office to get your schedule and then take you to your first class.”
Tyler gestured down the hall. “After you.”
__________
They walked down the hall past a series of posters advertising a car wash fundraiser for the cheerleading squad, a bake sale for the debate club, and a menu of the cafeteria lunches for the entire month. The school was nice, even though it was not as fancy as the schools he was used to attending. If he had walked this far down a school corridor in the past, he would have already passed a lounge, a huge library, a theater, and a cafe. So far, he had seen a few classrooms, two banks of blue lockers, and the restroom. He could see a sign at the end of the hall leading to an auditorium.
“How many kids are in this school?” Tyler asked.
“I dunno,” Donna replied. “Three or four hundred, I guess.”
“Really?” Tyler said. “That’s not that many.”
“This side of town is mostly businesses and stuff,” she said. “Most people live over on the east side, or out in the suburbs. There are schools out there, too.”
“What grade are you in?” Tyler asked.
“I’m a freshman,” she replied. “You’re a senior?”
“Junior,” he said.
“I’m a teacher’s aide in Mr. Eldrige’s fifth-period class,” Donna said. “That’s a junior algebra class. Maybe you’ll be in it.”
“Maybe,” he said. “I took junior algebra last semester, but I’m not sure if the credit will carry over.”
Donna looked confused. He had forgotten what it was like to be a freshman. All that talk of credits and semesters went over your head the first year of high school. She would not start to comprehend all of it until next year.
They came to the office, which was further from the front door than he thought it would be. Tyler had always imagined public schools as having guards at the door and bars on all the windows. He had seen a few too many movies.
They walked inside an office that struck Tyler as small. They were in a small reception area with a desk that had a young red-haired lady behind it. She was on the phone and indicated she would be with them in a moment with a finger. The call was not business related since she was telling the person on the other end of the line about what kind of salad she had eaten for lunch the day before, and what kind she was planning to have today.
Other than the reception desk, the room was filled with a couple of chairs and filing cabinets. On the opposite wall, there was a Norman Rockwell print of a young boy sitting outside of an office much like this one. The boy had a big purple black eye and a huge grin on his face, and the title written at the bottom of the print was “The Shiner”.
The young lady that liked to eat salad for lunch hung up the phone and glanced at them before turning her attention to her computer. “May I help you?” she asked.
“Ms. Lacey,” Donna said turning and motioning toward Tyler. She had her hands completely covered by her shirt sleeves and was grasping them tightly. This was a nervous young girl. “This is Tyler McDawn. Mrs. Edwards said to bring him to the office when he got here.”
“I’ll let her know he’s here,” Ms. Lacey said. “Thank you, Donna. You can run along to class now.”
Ms. Lacey picked up the telephone again and began speaking as Donna nodded and moved back toward the door to the hallway.
“Thanks for the welcome committee, Donna,” Tyler said as she opened the door. “It was nice meeting you.”
“Nice meeting you, too,” she replied shyly. Something about the girl said to Tyler that she did not get a whole lot of thank yous and compliments. She did not seem like she knew how to accept them.
Donna walked out of the room and closed the door. A second later another door on the other side of the room opened and Mrs. Edwards stepped out of it.
“Mr. McDawn?” the woman asked, looking down at a piece of paper in her hand, glancing up in his direction.
“Yes, ma’am,” Tyler said. “Tyler.”
“Come in my office, please,” she said. She did not seem very happy, and Tyler dreaded getting off on the wrong foot with the school’s principal. He walked into the office with her and sat in the chair she indicated across from her desk.
Betty Edwards was not a short woman. She was a bit shorter than Tyler who, at seventeen, had already nearly reached six feet. She was a black lady with a flat-top hairstyle that had probably gone out about fifteen years ago. But she knew what hairstyle worked for her, and she kept it.
Her office was not large, but it was efficient. There was nothing that seemed out of place. No papers lay strewn across her desk. No books turned the wrong way on the bookcase. A place for everything and everything in its place, as they say.
“First of all, I would like to start by reminding you that the school day begins at 7:45 AM,” she said as she sat down beside her small, but well-cared-for wooden desk. “I believe I mentioned that to your father when he registered you last week.”
“That may be true, Mrs. Edwards,” Tyler responded. “I apologize for being late. My father has a lot going on with the new exhibits opening at his museum this week. I’m lucky that he took the time to register me at all. If he could have left it up to me, then he probably would have.”
“Your father is a busy man,” the principal said as she looked over something on her computer screen. Tyler supposed that she had his file up in front of her. “He owns a museum?”
“He doesn’t own it. He’s an investor and works as curator for several museums,” Tyler said. “The one here in Birmingham is his newest one. It’s also the biggest one that he’s ever built.”
“Why would he choose to build it here?” she asked. “We’re not a large city like New York or Los Angeles. We already have an art museum.”
“Well, the new one is a museum of natural history,” Tyler replied. “He’s starting to get into a phase of giving access to things people haven’t had before. I guess this city hasn’t had a way to see a lot of historical artifacts or works of art. He’s big into education. That’s why he’s always had me in the best schools.”
“Until now,” Mrs. Edwards said, the slightest hint of a scowl crossing her face.
“I’m sorry?” Tyler asked.
“You were about to say that your father has always had you in the best schools until now.”
Here it comes, Tyler thought. He was used to it. People expected him to be a snob or well-to-do jerk everywhere he went just because his father had a lot of money. Tyler did not think of himself that way. While it was true that he was used to having pretty much anything he wanted available to him, he always thought of himself as being normal.
After all, it was not his money. It was his father’s. But, then again, he had never had to live in a lower-income home, so as far as he knew he may actually be a well-to-do jerk.
“I wasn’t going to say that,” Tyler said. He felt his pulse speed up a bit.
“Mr. McDawn,” Mrs. Edwards said, and Tyler could tell this time that she was not happy. “I have been the principal of this school for six years. I was the vice principal for three years before that. And before that, I taught nearly every class we offer. I hand-picked every teacher in this building, and I review all of the curricula taught to my students. I can assure you that even though this is a public school, the education given here is just as good, if not better, than the one provided by your Ivy League private schools.”
“I wasn’t trying to…,” he started, but she began again.
“And while we’re on the subject of your past education, let’s talk for a minute about Trailwood Academy in New York.”
Tyler sighed. He was starting to wish that his father was here. He was usually too busy to deal with things like this, but he had a way of talking to people that eased the tension.
“Yes, ma’am?” Tyler replied.
“Were you expelled from that school?” she asked.
“I was,” Tyler said. “But I wasn’t given a fair chance to tell my side of the story.”
“All it says on your record is that you were in an altercation with another student, and there was a knife involved,” she said.
“I know,” Tyler said. “May I tell you what actually happened?” Mrs. Edwards nodded and leaned back in her chair. “Two guys got into a fight. It wasn’t anyone I knew. It was just a couple of freshmen fighting over a girl or something. They started yelling at each other in the hall, and a whole group of people gathered around and started trying to get them to fight. One of them jumped on the other, and they started crawling around on the floor, beating each other. One of them got hit pretty hard, and there was some blood. I jumped in to try and break it up.”
“And one of them had a knife,” Mrs. Edwards said as if she knew the rest of the story.
Tyler nodded. “It wasn’t a big one. Just a little pocket knife. But he stabbed me right here.” He pointed to a space between his third and fourth rib on his right side. “The doctor said that if it had been my other side, it would have hit my heart and killed me.”
Mrs. Edward drummed her fingers on the top of her desk for several seconds. She looked at Tyler and then back to the information on her computer screen. She picked up a pen and made a note on the paper in front of her.
“Why would you be expelled for that?” she asked.
“The school had a zero-tolerance policy for fighting,” he replied. “They just said I should have let the staff handle it.”
“Well,” she said. “That’s more information than I could find in your file. But I also haven’t been able to find anything different from what you just told me. I talked with your father last week. I like him. He seems a bit eccentric and spends a lot of time studying history. He may not have a very good grasp on how things work in the real world…outside of history books.”
“You’re right about him,” Tyler replied.
“However,” Mrs. Edwards said. “He did tell me the same story you just did, and I’m inclined to believe him. You have to understand that it took a lot of meditation on the subject before I agreed to let you attend this school. When I heard about your altercation, I almost sent a notice of protest to the school board immediately. There hasn’t been an incident of violence in this school since I took over as principal, and I wasn’t about to let you be the one to break that streak.”
Tyler looked from the woman and down to his hands that were lying, clasped together, in his lap. “You don’t have to worry about that, Mrs. Edwards,” he said. “I’ve never liked violence. But, I can tell you, that experience had an effect on me. I’ve been seeing a counselor for the past few months since it happened. The threat of violence sends me into a panic.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Mrs. Edwards replied. “At least you’re dealing with it well. I’ve seen your transcripts, and your grades are very good. You seem to have a good head on your shoulders. So, I’m going to say welcome to you. I hope you enjoy our school.” She stood up and held out her hand. Tyler stood and accepted it with a handshake.
“Thank you,” he said. “I’m sure I will.”
