When Memory Fails

by L C Hayden

  She quickly scribbled a note and gave it to Eddie along with the pen and the rest of the spiral notebook. “Put this in his windshield and then catch up.”

  Chapter 50

  Bronson wasted no time. He swam directly to the tunnel and entered it as quickly as possible. He rationed his air, but each tiny amount he released only reminded him of the amount he’d need to make it to the other end. From the outside, the tunnel had looked small, but now it seemed to stretch for miles.

  He looked behind him. He was a bit over half-way through. It would be silly to turn back. Maybe if he could take eight strokes, then release a bit of air, he could make it to the other end.

  One.

  Two.

  Swim faster.

  Three.

  Four.

  Don’t release that air. Hang on.

  Five.

  Six.

  Just two more. I can do this.

  Seven.

  Eight.

  Release a bit of air. He did and then scolded himself for releasing too much. Focus.

  He was almost out of the tunnel and would soon be able to surface. But what if that possibility didn’t exist? He should have thought this through. Maybe this amnesia thing had some side effects. The old Bronson would have never been this impulsive.

  Too late now.

  The last of his air left him. From now on, luck would be his companion. He pushed forward as fast as he could. With each stroke he took, he became more and more aware of his lungs. Air, they screamed. Air.

  Bronson reached the end of the tunnel and used its wall to thrust him forward and up. Distances in the water were always distorted. Bronson couldn’t measure how far he was from the surface. All he knew was that he had to swim up and up.

  By now his lungs burned, and his vision seemed to blur. Still, he pushed himself, one more time. Push. Give it your all.

  Bronson broke the surface and gulped down a large sum of air. It had never tasted so good. He lay on his back and floated. He closed his eyes and focused on breathing. In. Out. He began to relax.

  Slowly, he opened his eyes and checked out his new surroundings. The peaceful pool of water glimmered as the sun rays penetrated its depth. High walls surrounded him in every direction with a massive peephole at the top. Bronson found himself inside an inverted funnel.

  Almost directly in the center of the pool, an island no larger than a football field invited him to rest. Bronson gladly accepted. He swam his way to the island.

  He had often seen movies where the hero was so glad to see land that he bent down and kissed the dirt. Bronson felt that’s exactly what he should do, but at the same time, he felt foolish doing that. He flopped down on the dirt, kissed his extended index and middle fingers, and touched the dirt. He let out a long sigh as the sunshine warmed his dreary bones.

  Almost a minute later, he sat bolt upright. He had reached the Heart of the Land, and he would bet his last dollar that this island was the Heart of the Heart. He stood up and studied every inch of the island. Nothing stood out. The island kept its secret buried deep within her.

  Buried.

  Exactly. If the island’s greedy jaws held The Ledger, then it had to be buried here somewhere. But where? He couldn’t possibly dig the entire island, small as it was.

  He stood back, crossed his arms, and focused. Off to his far right, he spotted a small lump on the land. The buried ledger? He shook his head. Things were never that simple.

  He headed toward the lump and glanced at the remains of what had once been a small wolf or a large fox. That poor, unfortunate critter had fallen to its death.

  He had almost walked away when he noticed the small pile of rocks which lay not too far from the fallen animal. He bent down and studied them. To the inexperienced eye, they were meant to look natural. But his mind told him otherwise. The rocks had probably once been part of a cairn. What was its significance? What did it mark?

  Bronson took a deep breath and concentrated. If he used those rocks as a marking point, what would they be pointing to? Of course. Bronson tapped his forehead with the palm of his hand. They should lead to the second pile of rocks. His eyes followed an imaginary line to the other side of the island and found exactly what he assumed would be there, the second cairn.

  One straight line leading from one side of the island to the other. Could he locate an intersecting line? To test his theory, Bronson shuffled along the edge of the island, his vision alert for any signs of piled rocks.

  Minutes later, he found the possibility of a third rock pile. If he followed another non-existing straight line to the other side of the island, he should spot the last cairn. Determined to prove his theory, he headed in a straight line to the other side of the island. Just as he had expected to, he located the cairn in record time.

  Two straight lines connected by four cairns. These lines would intersect each other at some point, and that spot would be the heart of this island. X marks the spot. He had located the place where he should dig for The Ledger.

  But dig, how? He eyed the skeletal remains of the canine and made his way toward it. One of the leg bones would serve well as a makeshift shovel. “Thank you, critter, for providing me with what I need. Know that your death was not in vain.” He bent down to pick up the bone when he heard the water splash behind him.

  He froze.

  Chapter 51

  Daniel knew he shouldn’t have stayed as long as he had watching his uncle and Sandy swim away. He should, as he promised, be guarding Pablo. But he had seen his uncle tie him up. No way was he ever going to get loose. Still, he should head back. He had one simple task to do, and he’d do it right.

  Before walking away, he glanced at the water one more time. A while back, Bronson had dived and had yet to resurface. Sandy stayed behind, apparently waiting for some kind of signal. Daniel wished he was privy to their plan.

  Sandy raised her arm, possibly waving to him, and then she too dove.

  Daniel waved back and waited for a while to see what would happen. When nothing did, Daniel figured it was time to go.

  Heading up the small incline was harder than he had imagined. Pablo had really done a number on him. It took him much longer than he anticipated to reach his destination.

  When he crested the hill, he glanced at the tree that held Pablo captive. Daniel hoped Pablo hadn’t yet regained consciousness. Daniel gasped, and his eyes widened as large as saucers.

  Pablo was gone.

  * * *

  Yep, today was the day. Every Wednesday Miguel would faithfully drive to Sechrest Falls and check on Ol’ Joe. If he’d told that hermit once, he’d told him a thousand times. Get out of there. Nothing good will ever come of clinging on to the dead town. Move to a real city. Buy some land, he had told the hermit, and he and his dog could live there happily ever after.

  But would the stubborn Hermit listen to him? No way.

  Miguel had the mind not to visit him today. Let him be without his fresh milk and beloved newspapers. Maybe go tomorrow. Or even Friday. Perhaps that would make the old gizzard realize what a loner he was. He’d think that Miguel wasn’t coming, and maybe that would make him want to leave the place.

  Miguel sighed. He checked the stack of newspapers, all nicely bundled from the oldest edition to the newest. The extra-large cooler was ready to go, too. Miguel had filled it with milk, juice, fresh bread, chocolate bars, and some fresh fruit. He had even thrown in an apple pie.

  Miguel shook his head. It was definitely his fault that the Hermit didn’t have any intentions of leaving his beloved ghost town. Miguel spoiled the old man every time he went for his weekly visits. For sure, that would come to an abrupt stop.

  Next week, for sure.

  Yep, next week.

  He sighed. That would be impossible to do. Miguel was trapped. He had to keep an eye out on Ol’ Joe. Besides, he had already loaded the truck and packed the ice chest. Miguel put his Chevy Avalanche in gear and drove off. In less than two hours, he’d be sitting in th
e old Hermit’s home enjoying a cup of hot chocolate.

  Miguel always looked forward to that. He salivated as his taste buds anticipated that first taste of hot chocolate.

  And that Hermit, Ol’ Joe—he really was a nice kind of guy. They would sit and talk until the sun began to set, then Miguel would drive off and be back next Wednesday.

  No matter what Miguel thought, he knew he’d be back next week. No way would he allow Ol’ Joe to believe he had deserted him. Still, Miguel wished the Hermit would listen to him.

  Miguel smiled. Deep down, he knew Ol’ Joe would never consider giving up the place.

  Besides, Miguel absolutely loved Wednesdays.

  Chapter 52

  Bronson turned and breathed easier. He walked over to the edge of the island. “What are you doing here?” He extended his hand and helped Sandy out of the water.

  “I got worried.” She stood up and wrapped her arms around herself. “It’s cold.”

  “The sun will dry you up real fast, and then you’ll be comfortable.”

  “I hope so.” She shivered. “What were you doing?”

  “I have a theory.”

  “Oh?”

  Bronson pointed to the pile of rocks. “See those?”

  Sandy nodded.

  “If you were to draw a straight line to the other side of the island, you’d find another pile.”

  Sandy glanced at the other side and shook her head. “I don’t see them.”

  “You won’t be able from here. But believe me, they’re there.”

  “I believe you. But what does that mean?”

  “Toward that direction,” Bronson pointed to his right, “you’ll see another cairn, which like this one, leads to its direct opposite.”

  Sandy’s eyebrows furrowed. “I don’t follow you. What are you trying to say?”

  “It means that the two lines intersect at one point. That’s where we will dig for The Ledger.”

  Sandy’s features brightened. “Really? That’s amazing. How did you figure that out?”

  Bronson shrugged. “Like I said, it’s only a theory.” He glanced at the animal’s carcass. “Are you squeamish?”

  “Depends on what it involves. Why do you ask?”

  “We’ll need to dig, and as you realize, we didn’t come prepared.”

  Sandy placed her palms on her chest, like the heroine of an old movie. “What do you propose we do?”

  “Some poor canine had the misfortune of falling from that hole.” He pointed to the opening above them. “His bad luck is our good luck. His leg bones can serve as a crude form of a shovel.”

  Sandy shivered and this time, not from the cold. “Go for it.”

  “I will. While I do that, you go over and recreate the cairns so that we can see them from opposite ends of the island.”

  She nodded and headed toward the first pile of rocks.

  Bronson wasted no time in retrieving the bones. Good thing the accident happened a long time ago and separating the leg bones from the rest of its body proved to be a simple task. Still, Bronson used his handkerchief to accomplish the task. He then went to the edge of the island and washed the bone as best as he could.

  He returned to the carcass and repeated the steps. Once he had two clean bones, he handed one to Sandy. “What I want from you is to focus on the cairn opposite you and walk in a straight line heading toward it. I will do likewise using that other pile of stones. When we meet, we will dig.”

  Sandy nodded. “Sounds simple enough.”

  “In that case, walk with me.”

  Sandy’s eyes widened. “What? Why?”

  “We both need to walk at the same speed. We walk together, we’ll know what pace to follow.”

  “Gotcha.” Sandy nodded.

  After they practiced their walk, each headed for their assigned destination and began their walk. Somewhere halfway through the island, the two met. They smiled and began to dig.

  They had dug a bit over a foot with no results.

  Bronson moved two feet to his right, and both began to dig.

  Again nothing.

  He changed locations. Sandy sighed. “It’s not working.”

  “Too early to give up.” He picked up the bone and broke ground. Sandy did the same.

  They had been digging for over five minutes when Bronson’s voice rang out. “Bingo!”

  Sandy held her breath as Bronson got on his hands and knees and moved the dirt around. He pulled out a waterproof box with a lock on it. Bronson used a fist-size rock to pound on the lock. Eventually, it gave in, and Bronson opened the box and retrieved an over-sized leather bound book. The Ledger?

  Sandy threw her arms around him. “Is it?”

  Bronson opened the book and held the top of the paper to turn the page. He nodded.

  “You did it!”

  “We did it.” He patted the space beside him. “Before we head back, how about you and me take a peek?”

  Sandy flopped down beside him. “You’re on.”

  Chapter 53

  Optimism slowly turned to concern. Uncle Harry and Sandy had been gone for almost two hours. The sun had been shining then, bringing hope and enthusiasm. But now as time crawled at a snail’s pace, the knot in Daniel’s stomach grew. It didn’t help matters that the clouds’ soft wooly bottoms scraped against the hilltops as the sun played peek-a-boo with them and drenched the evening with a negative dullness.

  Then, to top it all, Daniel had failed to find Pablo. He had spent a good hour hobbling around the forest, searching for him. All for nothing. He had come out empty-handed. He dreaded facing his uncle and letting him know that he had failed.

  Daniel worked his way back to the shore where Uncle Harry and Sandy had first entered the water. He scanned the area, but like before, he couldn’t find a trace of them. What should he do? What would his uncle do?

  He flopped down on the ground and started to remove his shoes. The only thing he could think of doing is to swim to the point where he had last seen them. Once there, he would figure out what to do next. He was about to remove his other shoe when he saw Sandy’s head break the surface. Daniel jumped to his feet and focused. Yes, that definitely was Sandy.

  Seconds later, Uncle Harry’s head popped up. Daniel let out a large woo-hoo sound. They were fine, and they were swimming toward him.

  It wasn’t until Uncle Harry had almost reached the shoreline that Daniel noticed that his uncle carried something with him. The Ledger? Had they actually found it?

  Sandy reached the shore first and the look on her face told him everything he wanted to know. He threw his arms around her as soon as she stepped on land.

  “It’s real! Uncle Harry has The Ledger.” The enthusiasm in her voice sprang out like rays of light piercing a deep fog. She stepped away from him. “I’m sorry. I got you all wet.”

  Daniel smiled. “Glad to get wet. It makes me feel like I contributed to The Ledger’s discovery.” He looked deep into her eyes and considered himself the luckiest man alive.

  “Are you two going to stand there all day and goggle at each other? Or is someone going to help me?” Bronson attempted to stand, but the slippery rocks weren’t helping any.

  Although his uncle’s tone imitated that of a grouch, Daniel knew he was kidding. He walked over to him to help him out, but once near him, he couldn’t look him in the eyes.

  Bronson offered Daniel the waterproof box which probably held The Ledger. He accepted it, extended his free arm out, and stretched out his hand. Bronson grabbed it, and Daniel helped him find his way to dry land.

  The three walked away from the water and stood in a patch of land where the sun’s rays still warmed the place. “It’s okay.” Bronson patted his nephew’s upper arm. “Tell me what happened.”

  Daniel gasped as though he’d been stabbed by a thousand needles. “How did you know?”

  “What?” Sandy’s glance bounced from her boyfriend’s eyes to Bronson and back to Daniel’s.

  Both ignored her.<
br />
  Daniel cleared his voice. “Ugh…” He stopped.

  “Go on.” Bronson’s smooth voice encouraged Daniel to open up.

  “I guess I stayed here a bit too long. When I got back to check on Pablo, he was gone.”

  “Was the rope undone or was it cut?”

  Daniel placed his index finger on his chin and gazed up at the sky, as though doing mental arithmetic. It took him several seconds to answer. “Cut. It was definitely cut.” His eyes widened. “Someone cut him loose.”

  “My assumption as well.”

  Daniel scanned the area. “Are we in danger?”

  “It won’t hurt to be careful.” He looked at the box Daniel still held in his hand. “I think what we need to do is hide that thing somewhere around here.” His gaze traveled from place to place, searching for the perfect hiding spot.

  “Why would we want to do that?” Sandy asked.

  “In case Bobbi is still around. Carrying it will slow us down, and if we get caught, Bobbi will take possession.”

  Sandy bit her lip. “You really think it’ll be safe here?”

  “Safer than with us.” Bronson headed toward a single pine tree. “This looks like a good spot.”

  “What do you want us to do?” Daniel asked.

  “Bring some large rocks, some grass, and twigs. We’re goin’ to bury this baby in a way that it won’t call attention to itself. Once we know for sure that all is well, we’ll come back and get it.” He bent down and began to dig. Daniel and Sandy joined in.

  When they finished, Sandy nodded. “You’re right. No one would know the foot of this tree hides The Ledger.” She stood up. “Do you think we’re being too cautious? Maybe Aunt Bobbi is long gone. What do you think?”

  Bronson shrugged. “I can’t guarantee it, but you’re probably right. She and her gang are probably long gone.”

  “What makes you think so?” Daniel asked.

  “If I were her, I’d be thinkin’ we went to get the police.”