Chapter 47: A voice From The Past
When I arrived at the museum I went straight to Heather's office, but she wasn't there. When I asked around no one knew where she was. I headed to my office to clean up my inbox and wait for her to turn up. I didn't have to wait long. After only two or three e-mails, Heather suddenly burst into the room and said, “Thank god you're here! You won't believe...” She rushed forward, grabbed my hand, and literally pulled me out of my office.
“Hey! What's going on?” I went with her willingly, laughing slightly at this uncharacteristic urgency. “Where have you been? I checked your office, but...”
“In the archives,” she responded shortly. “But You've got to see this first.”
She was heading away from the stairs that led to the archives, and I realized she was taking me to her office. “I don't understand. What's so urgent?”
“Trust me,” she said as she drew me in to her office. The contents of the mysterious box were once again strewn all over her work table, but now on top was a large manila envelope with my name on it. Before I could say anything she called out to some of our co-workers to join us, and asked one of them to get the boss.
I was puzzled. I picked up the envelope and asked, “Did I get a delivery or something? Why is it in your office?”
“Look at it closer,” she urged. “That didn't arrive here today.”
I inspected it as our co-workers began to enter her office. Besides my name,there was a small notation in one corner that read 1 of 2. It was sealed shut, and as I turned it over in my hands small amounts of dust slid off of it onto the desk. She was right. The paper of the envelope had yellowed with age, and seemed somewhat brittle. Not enough to be fragile, but it did betray it's vintage. It had to be at least twenty years old.
The head of the museum arrived and greeted me by saying, “Ahh, so you're here. We can begin.”
“Begin what?” I asked. “I still don't understand.”
“None of us do,” he smiled, “That's why I had Heather ask you to come in.” He walked over to Heather and asked simply, “Did you find it?”
Heather gave him a quick nod to say yes.
“Excellent,” he enthused.
But before he could say any more I interrupted, “Find what? And what is this, and why does it have my name on it?”
My frustration must have been apparent, because my boss apologized. “I'm sorry, Joey, but it's got us all stumped as well.” He turned to Heather and said, “You know more than any of us, why don't you fill him in?”
She nodded and invited me to sit at the table with her as she began her story. “You were here with me when we first opened this box, remember?”
“Of course.” I answered.
“And we went through the entire contents together, right?”
“Right.”
“I did not see this envelope once we had emptied the box out. Did you?” she asked with anticipation.
“No, I don't remember seeing this before today. What's this all about?”
“Well, this morning, as I was getting ready to come in, I had a sudden feeling that we had missed something, and a sudden urge to search through the box again. I can't explain it. I had been through everything multiple times, and was certain that everything in it had been examined and cataloged. So I rushed in and emptied the box again, and there it was.”
“Could someone have sneaked in and planted it?” I asked, perplexed.
“I doubt it,” the head administrator offered. “Heather's office is locked when she's not here, and we've checked the security cameras. There have been no suspicious activities since the box was first found. Besides, it's clearly old.”
“But what is it?” I considered the envelope with renewed curiosity, running a finger along the sealed flap. It had been glued down and then taped down as well, but the tape had yellowed and was beginning to peel at the edges.
“Only one way to find out,” My boss smiled and handed me a letter opener.
Everyone gathered behind me as I gently slid the thin blade along the creased edge. I held my breath as I carefully withdrew a single sheet of folded paper. I didn't know what to expect as I unfolded it. All that was written was “Mark 5:9” I was disappointed. I had hoped for some sort of explanation of why an envelope with my name on it had been left at the very museum where I would work, years before I had even moved to town. “I don't get it,” I mumbled. “What does it mean?”
“It's obviously a bible verse,” Heather observed, pulling out her phone to do a search.
But one of the grad assistants was quicker. “It's the story of Legion,” she offered. “That time that Jesus cast out a multitude of demons and they killed a heard of swine.” Her phone remained firmly in her pocket as she enlightened us, and everyone looked at her in amazement. “What? My dad's a minister. I grew up going to Sunday School every week.”
“She's right.” Heather had the text in front of her. “It's the story of how a possessed man was tormented by multiple demons who collectively called themselves “Legion” in reference to Roman soldiers who were organized into units called legions, consisting of ...two to six thousand men.”
“What does that have to do with anything?” I wondered out loud.
“I have no idea.” Heather seemed as perplexed as me, but in her grappling with the mystery of it, she suggested, “Perhaps the important thing is that it is clearly a message from Mr. Bouchard to you.”
I suddenly had an insight. “Maybe it's not just the message itself, but the timing as well. When did you get that inexplicable urge to search the box again? This morning, right?”
“Yeah.”
“What time?”
“I don't know,” she hesitated. “Probably around seven thirty or eight o'clock, while I was getting ready for work.”
“Of Course!” I was on my feet and out the door almost instantly.
“Wait!” Heather shouted as I rushed towards the exit. “There's more!”
“It's in the manuscript,” I called back as the outer door shut behind me.
The timing was very important. Heather's insight happened at the same time as I was leaving Mr. Bouchard this morning. Right after he had shown me the visions of his past. “That means it's urgent. Something's going to happen today!” I muttered to myself as I drove back toward the cottage. I couldn't remember the details, but I knew the story of Legion resonated with a rare kind of capital punishment that Mr. Boucharrd had identified as being practiced in Polynesia. I needed to pick up the manuscript and bring it to him. The answers were there, I was sure of it.
Before I had gone a mile, my phone rang. “What's up, Kevin?” I greeted him with as much casualness as I could muster, but he saw right through me.
“What's wrong?” he asked, instantly. “Is Ben alright?”
“Ben's fine,” I reassured him. “I'm ...umm...just a little distracted by work. What can I do for you?”
“Nothing,” he laughed. “Mike and I just got back to his place, and I had a message from dad telling me to call you. What can I do for you?”
Turning my own question back on me was just the humor I needed to snap me out of the sudden urgency I had been feeling. I took a breath and answered, “I just wanted to ask you about something, but I'd rather talk face to face, not on the phone.”
“Okay, cool. Are you going to be at the rehab center later? I'm planning on stopping in to see Ben.” He then pointedly added, “As requested”.
I laughed. “As requested indeed. I know he'll be glad to see you, and I hear you may have some adventures to share, after your little outing this morning. Hmm?”
“Damn it! Can't that old man give me any privacy?”
I laughed even harder. “He wasn't gossiping,” I sympathized, “He was bragging.”
“Still...”
“Yeah, I'll be there, I just need to stop at the cottage real quick first. What time you coming?”
“I don't know,” he waffled. “I could go now if Mike's willing to drive me. Then you could give me a ride home after.”
“You're at Mike's?”
“Yeah, we just got back. I told you.”
“I'm almost there now.” I told him. “I can pick you up if you want.”
“Sounds good to me,” he agreed. “Do I have time to grab a bite before you get here? Sucking dick's hungry work?”
“Oh my god! You are so turning into your father!”
“Great! Just what every boy wants to hear.”
When I stopped laughing, I said, “Order me a burger too. I'll join you. My treat.”
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