“You remember the chair, do you not? It belongs to your father. He purchased it in the ‘90s. This is a Maloof Rocking Chair made by the splendid American furniture designer Sam Maloof. All Maloof chairs are custom-made and sell for about $25,000 apiece. Both former American Presidents Carter and Reagan owned Maloof rockers. Today you can find them on display in museums around the United States and indeed the Smithsonian Institute. Did you know that in 1985 Sam Maloof was named a MacArthur Fellow? This is fine wood craftsmanship at its best.”
Jasper stood slowly and walked over to the rocker. He placed his hand upon the arm of the chair and rocked it gently.
“Many a night Dester would rock you to sleep in that chair. He would say ‘Maloof’ every time he rocked backwards. Your eyes would close each time, and in a short while you would take to sleep. Your mother would often tickle the ivories ever so lightly on the nights that you fussed more than normal. I so enjoyed listening to Rosezella…her melodies were enchanting. I often found myself falling asleep standing upright, if you can imagine.” Lance drifted off in his own momentary stare; he looked down at the piano keys as if he were watching a ghost.
“Daddy...” Jasper whispered under his breath as a single tear rolled out from the corner of his cheek and down to his chin. Jasper cleared his throat and turned to face Lance. “How is any of this here? I was told by my aunt that this home was burnt to the ground and that same fire killed my parents.” There was a clear and rising anger in Jasper’s tone. “I have lived my whole life as an all American boy on a poor farm in Allegan when all the while this place was here. Why?”
“That is incorrect. Technically, you are only 50 percent American,” Lance countered.
“Say what?” Jasper could hardly believe what he just heard.
Lance crossed his arms in such revulsion the air around him became as stiff as he was. “That impossible woman, she told you nothing.” Thinking first, Lance gave pause to what he might say next. “Your father is American, but your mother is 100% British. She descends from the royal bloodline of the Tudors. Rosezella Catherin Ella Tudor. Jasper, this will come as somewhat of a shock to you, but the truth is you are nobility. This house, your home, is also the property of England.” I have gone and done it now…Pandora is out of the box, Lance thought to himself.
“Deep breath...BREATHE, Jasper, just breathe.” Stacy was so excited by the prospects of royal Jasper she jumped up in front of him and performed her best rendition of a curtsy. OMG, this is just like what happened to Anne Hathaway in The Princess Diaries, but I am not a princess.
“Not to worry, lad. It is not as if she sent you down here with the key. I will fill in the blanks for you, and…”
“You mean this one?” Jasper pulled the key from his front pocket and tossed it into the air. The key hovered without falling to the floor.
Lance shouted as he jumped up from the bench, “GOD SAVE THE QUEEN!” He reached for the key. The key responded and moved to hang in the air just over Jasper’s head. “So the key is conscious of its owner.” It was Lance’s turn to take a deep breath. “It would be wise of you to bring me up to speed so I may advise London of our current situation. You are imprinted with the heavenly Throne Room Key, an object of spiritual design. You do not possess knowledge of your family history or the duties you are required to carry out. We are in grave distress. Tell me what came to light before your arrival.”
Over the next 20 minutes Jasper and Stacy gave a full account of the events that had left his aunt in the hospital. They did not tell him about the angel Bell or how they flew in on Thunder’s back, but they did tell of their encounter on the highway.
After Lance was sure he had the details of their story, he said to them, “It would seem that the forces of darkness have abandoned the truce. I must take my leave of you now and dispatch an urgent report to MI6. I will return. Feel free to explore around the manor, but do not leave the ground floor.” Lance dashed from the parlor.
Jasper pulled Stacy up off the lounge. “Seriously…MI6 – British Secret Intelligence Service, they are the CIA of England who handle all external covert affairs of the government…cool!”
“That explains why the house is invisible from the road, but Lance is no 007…you know what, Jasper; this is just a little too much for me. I’m ready to go back home to Allegan now and shop for my prom shoes with Gena.” Stacy let out an unsettling thrill of a giggle. “We should leave all of this to the grown-ups. Let’s go home now. Come on…” Stacy started walking toward the foyer.
“Wait. Hold on. Don’t let fear drive you away from our adventure. This is a real mystery. We are both part of this story. We just need to turn the page and see what happens next. Besides, look at this place. It is begging us to investigate.”
“Okay, then. We’re here, let’s go exploring. Where do you want to start?”
A disobedient smile came across Jasper’s face. “Upstairs, of course.”
Jasper and Stacy raced up the staircase, stopping at the halfway landing. Each family member’s portrait had a golden name plate at about eye level. Name, birth date, and death date were detailed.
“Look at these names…notice they are in sequence by birthday. Your oldest relative is displayed at the base of the staircase, and as we go up, they get younger. Could your parents be displayed upstairs?”
“I’m sure Mom and Dad are up there somewhere. We will find out in a moment. We will get a better idea of how big my family is from the top.”
Jasper and Stacy walked slowly, taking in the details as much as they could. When they arrived at the top they found three long hallways. The portraits only went down the center passageway, with the men on the right and the women on the left. There were ten doors, five on each side. A dark, floor-to-ceiling, full-length mirror was at the end of this passage. It was the width of the hallway, about six feet across.
Jasper pointed down the stairs. “Okay, then, the one at the bottom must be my great-great-great grandfather, Richard Indiana. The next one is my great-great, grandfather, Daniel Indiana. As we move down the hall this would be my great grandfather, Theodore Indiana, and my grandpa, Leroy Indiana.” Jasper jumped with joy in front of the next portraits. “Stacy, may I introduce you to my mother and father, Dester and Rosezella Indiana.” Jasper beamed a very big smile.
“Oh, Jasper, your mother is so beautiful,” Stacy said with astonishment. She leaned in to look closer at the name plate. Her smile retreated and was replaced by a look of pure puzzlement. “Hold on, Jasper.” She ran back to the portrait of Theodore Indiana and took a better look at his name plate. She walked back to where Jasper was standing between his parents. “Weird, neither your parents’ portraits nor your great grandfather’s have a death date. I find it hard to believe it’s just a record-keeping error.” Stacy looked past Jasper just to the other side of the door. “In addition to that…if you were an only child and these are your parents, then there should only be one more portrait in this hallway. But look, there are two.” Stacy pointed with her index finger.
Jasper turned. He walked to the first portrait past the door. It was a bouncing baby boy. He read the name plate aloud. “Jasper Indiana. It’s me. I’m a good-looking boy, you can’t argue that. Come look.”
Stacy stood behind him. “You had a full head of hair, look at that mop. Nice…I barely had any hair in my one-year-old photos.”
Jasper moved to the next portrait while Stacy was still looking over his baby portrayal. “Both of these renderings capture my eyes perfectly, don’t you think? I wonder why they did me twice?”
“Jasper, look at the name plate. This isn’t you. Calvin Indiana? Jasper, you had a twin brother.”
“Had?” Jasper said coldly.
“He died almost a year after you guys were born. Look at the dates…that was right about the time you came to live with your aunt in Allegan.”
Jasper shook his head. “How could I have a twin brother and not remember him?”
“Doctors say that most lo
ng-term memories in babies aren’t truly formed until the age of two, sometimes even three. It all depends on the development of the child.” Stacy put her arms around Jasper from behind and lay the side of her face against his back, holding him in a gentle hug.
“Stacy…Stacy, the blanket that hid the key had both our initials stitched into its hem. Whatever is going on was meant for the both of us to experience together. I’ve got to know how he died and why there are no death dates on the other portraits. We need to go to the cemetery. There is bound to be a marker or headstone. Is your phone working? Can you get us directions?”
Stacy slid her fingers across her touchscreen and her phone sprung to life. “Four bars…must have a wireless router…hold on for the search results. Bingo! I have downloaded the map, but wouldn’t it just be easier to ask Lance?”
“Adults have done nothing but lie to me, and if the truth is out there, we can find it and confirm it on our own. We need to get Thunder.” Jasper ran down the staircase.
“Jasper, it’s dark outside. We won’t be able to see who might be watching us.”
“Likewise, they won’t be able to see us riding a horse into town. It works to our advantage. We will be gone and back before Lance even knows we’re missing.”
They went down to the stables where Thunder was resting after filling his stomach with hay. Jasper found some rather old-looking blankets and saddle tack. He outfitted Thunder so they both could ride in semi-comfort. Moments later they rode away through the grass. Jasper kept Thunder off the drive so as not to make noise that could alert Lance to their departure. Once on the two-track, they dashed away toward the town.
“Stacy, they hid a twin brother from me, a spiritual key, and a royal heritage. They lied about this house fire; what if they lied about my parents? Maybe the reason there are no dates of death on those portraits is because there were never any deaths. My parents must be alive!” Jasper’s voice filled with hope. But Stacy had her doubts and chose to just listen for the moment, she wanted Jasper to have this one small moment of joy.
chAPTER ten
Stacy had let Jasper ramble on for far too long. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, Jasper. Your great grandfather Theodore was missing his death date. How could he still be alive?” Stacy knew where Jasper’s chain of thought was heading, and she didn’t want him to go there. Getting his hopes up would do more harm than good. Jasper’s parents were dead. There was no other explanation. Why would anyone wish for more disappointment? For Jasper’s sake, wasn’t it best to keep them deceased?
“My great grandfather could still be alive, too. I guess we will know for sure really soon.” Jasper stopped Thunder at the end of the two-track. There was a streetlight on the corner of Charles Street and 15th. “Which way do we need to go?”
“We need to stay on Charles. Go right,” Stacy replied as she consulted her smartphone. “We’re going to ride all the way down to Division Road and turn left. Division will turn into Clay Street once we near the Patoka River. We go right on 1st Street, then right on Newton Street. Newton will take us across the river where we will turn left into the park. Lion’s Riverview Park follows along the river and ends at the cemetery.”
Twenty-five minutes later they had crossed the Patoka River and went slowly down the grassy hill to the riverwalk. It was more of an asphalt fitness trail. This section was well-lit by tall, green lampposts with frosted glass globes about every 100 feet. Jasper and Stacy dismounted. There was a lot of fog hanging in stillness over the river, and some of it appeared to be rolling up toward them on the path. Some of the fog was drifting eerily down the shaft of the lampposts. Jasper knew that was odd but said nothing. He wouldn’t even glance at it for more than a second in case Stacy was watching him. He didn’t want her to notice; she was frightened enough as it was.
“This is creepy. Nothing I love more than paying a visit to a cemetery on a dark, foggy night.”
“You need to stay focused or you’re going to get scared…well, everything around here seems to hold some type of meaning for me so tell me about the river.”
Stacy stopped for a second and pushed her finger over the river on her screen. “Basically it was used in the 1800s to move goods for trade between the communities. The river flows into the Wabash River, then straight to the Mississippi, then the Gulf of Mexico. The name of the river is Native American and it means ‘loggy bottom.’ The Patoka River is 162 miles long.”
“Okay, then,” Jasper said with a wink of his right eye.
Stacy shook her head no. “Not this time, dear heart. I still feel spooked, but it was a nice try.” Stacy gave Jasper a half-grin. “Let’s keep going. It’s just up this hill to the right. But why don’t you make a girl feel safe and just hold my hand.” She did not wait for an open-armed invitation. Stacy not only took hold onto Jasper’s hand; she also took possession of his entire left shoulder.
Jasper let out a quick giggle. “Look at that, a white wooden fence instead of wrought iron. That’s a nice country touch.” Pausing for only a short moment he looked around to see if they were alone. “Thunder, it might be better if you wait along the fence in case we need to make a quick getaway.” He patted Thunder’s brow.
“Let’s go look at some headstones.” Jasper and Stacy jumped the fence and charged up the hill to the first row of markers. “Are you kidding me? A theater! They built the ‘Jasper 8’ next to the graveyard. With nothing more than a chain-link fence separating the two. Wow, I hope they don’t call that progress; it’s tacky to say the least.” Now it was Jasper’s turn to shake his head. “What does your smartphone tell you about this place?”
“Let’s just go over and look at that erected stone. I’m sure it will have more information than my phone. This place is rather small and is not the main cemetery in Jasper, but it was the first.”
“I like to read the names: Plaize, Watheis, Norris, Oiemeier, Bhrens, and Duther. This last one here has an epitaph. It says, ‘A very brave man.’ I wonder how he died?”
“Focus, Jasper…the writing on this stone says this place is the Enlow/Jasper City Cemetery. It was restored in May of 1994 because many of the markers were lost. Some people were buried here with nothing more than a cross to mark the spot, and many more are believed to be buried here with no markers at all. This stone is the best record they could come up with. The founder of the town, Eleanor Enlow, is also buried in this graveyard.”
“My guess is she is inside the rusted iron fence area, but where is my brother?”
“Come with me toward the theater. There is a row of headstones over there and plenty of lighting by which to see.” Stacy pulled Jasper by the hand. They looked at one, then another, and finally they found it: Calvin Indiana. His epitaph read, ‘Beloved twin, Gone too soon.’ “Oh, Jasper, this is real, you really had a twin brother and the truth is…”
Suddenly Stacy stopped speaking. Fog was now pouring out of the frosted glass globes like the carbonated fizz of a shaken bottle of soda pop. She pointed her outstretched hand in the direction of the closest lamppost. Jasper followed her gaze. He looked back at her, trying to figure out what she thought she was seeing. Fear was preventing her from speaking. She could only mouth the word.
Jasper jumped directly in front of her as she started to hyperventilate. She tried to look around him. “What are you trying to say? I can’t read lips. Stacy…”
A voice came from behind Jasper. “Ghost,” said the voice. “She is saying ‘Ghost.’ That would be me. Hello, brother. I have been waiting for you a long time.” The transparent image of Calvin Indiana began to take solid form. He appeared in the exact same clothes that Jasper himself was wearing. Calvin stepped out from the foggy mist and put one foot up on top of his headstone. “Gee, I like what they’ve done with the place. A movie theater, really? Not much tact in that.”
“I know, right! I was just saying that to Stacy as we walked up. Who would build that there without at least putting up a brick fence to block the view?” Jasper nodded
his head in agreement, not missing a beat or being taken aback one bit that he was talking with his dead brother's ghost.
“Are you okay, Stacy? You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Calvin said with a giggle that started Jasper laughing aloud.
“Oh, you guys are two of a kind all right. I see now you both have the same sense of humor. Ha, ha, ha, Calvin, you’re a hoot and a real dead ringer,” Stacy said as she put both hands on her hips.
Calvin and Jasper just looked at each other then said in unison, “Nice try.”
Jasper continued, “Leave the jokes to us. That one was way too obvious. I’ll give you points for the effort. Calvin, this is my girl, Stacy Applekart. I plan to make her my wife one day. You are, of course, invited to the wedding,” Jasper said playfully.
The air bristled and the fog became thick. They could see no more than five feet in any direction. A silent horror alarm rang in each of their heads. Stacy was about to lose her nerve when Calvin spoke. “I wish I could stay here all night, but my time is almost up. Those who chased you on the highway are almost here,” Calvin said sadly, as if it were the end of his birthday party and all his friends had to go home.
Jasper and Stacy were instantly tense. A series of stomps shook the ground, getting louder by the second. Stacy fought to stay calm. She wasn’t going to lose her self-control in front of Calvin. He was a ghost, after all. She wouldn’t be frightened by noises in the dark. A second later Thunder emerged from the fog and came alongside Jasper. Everyone exhaled.
“Thunder can sense your emotions now. You didn’t even have to call out to him. Jasper, that is mindboggling. Your connection is growing stronger,” Stacy said with astonishment.
“We have a horse?” Calvin was clearly shocked with this revelation. “When will it be my turn to ride him?”
Jasper: Purple Flamingos Fly at Midnight (Jasper - Purple Flamingos Fly at Midnight Book 1) Page 8