Prison of the Past

by Elle Klass

  Definitely Miss Bubbly. “Hi, Cathy. Thank you for taking the time on such short notice to meet with me.” I may have used the Briggs’ family name and my brother Will to help secure this impromptu meeting. I’d have to let him know. I’m sure she’d check my references.

  “This is for your daughter, Rosa? Where is she?” Her wide eyes shifted around me.

  Was I supposed to bring her? This called for a quick lie. “I wanted to take a look first. We’re also looking at the NASA Camp in Florida and don’t want to say anything until we’ve had the chance to see what each offers. Children get disappointed so easily.” I figured if she thought there was competition she might not ask too many questions.

  “Yes, yes. You will bring her when you’ve made your decision. We like to meet the children ahead of time and do require transcripts,” she said, as if memorized from a script and the full assumption I’d choose Camp Einstein.

  “Of course.”

  The grounds were beautiful. Tree leaves were in the start of changing colors and dropping and the faint pounding of the waterfall sounded in my ears. It was peaceful and relaxing. I could see how a place like this would foster intellectual development. There was a dock with kayaks, an Olympic sized heated swimming pool, tennis courts, golfing, and nature trails. I guess golfing was a skill rich kids needed to know in their youth.

  “I love to see all the various physical activities for them, that encourages and fosters thinking.” It sounded stupid but perked her up more than she already was.

  “Oh yes, yes. That’s the reason we have it.” She went on to explain scientific garbage about how each activity cultivates some type of neural pathway, increasing brain function and eye and hand coordination. She lost me right away, mostly because I didn’t care.

  We followed a trail through the woods to the student cabins. A slight rustle from my left, probably the wind, grabbed my ears’ attention and instinctively I peeked from the corner of my eye. A blur of blue behind an evergreen bush flashed. When I turned my head the blue blur was gone. Probably a bird of some sort. Focusing my attention back on the task at hand; the cabins were the same log style as the office but inside looked like a futuristic space ship. There was also a library and a science lab filled with high tech equipment and a state of the art scanning electron microscope. I felt like I was in an episode of a sci-fi series. The last room she took me to was the computer lab, although all the students were provided tablets during their stay.

  “This is very impressive,” I said as we walked to the cafeteria. Vending machines filled with juice and healthy snacks lined the walls. Healthy eating initiative. My childhood days were spent scrounging in dumpsters and somehow I survived. I tried not to gawk and let my sheer amazement show that children actually got to do this stuff. And my Einstein was one of them. No wonder he was an expert hacker.

  “Do you have pictures or yearbooks? It would really help me decide if this is a good fit for Rosa,” I said with a smooth voice.

  “Yes, we have those in the library.” She opened a vending machine after asking if I wanted a drink, grabbed two mango juices, and we strolled back to the library.

  I suffered the whole tour to get to the one thing I wanted. The yearbooks dated back thirty years. I browsed them randomly, not wanting to draw attention to a specific year. She continued yakking about all the benefits the camp offered. I flipped a page for one of the first yearbooks and found a familiar face – my brother. Holy flippinoli. I had no idea. I figured they’d have sent him to Wall Street Camp, not science and tech.

  Einstein was in three yearbooks until about age fifteen and so were the other boys. I’d have to check when I got back to the motel. He must have vanished after that. “Would it be too much to ask for another mango juice?” I needed her out of the room and had already staked out the facility’s cameras. There were a lot of blind spots because of all the bookshelves and sneaking pictures with my phone wouldn’t be difficult.

  Her eyes shifted nervously and she took a moment to respond, “Yes, I’ll be right back.”

  That was odd. As soon as the door closed I shifted and pulled out my phone, holding it in front of me I pretended to type a text as I clicked a few pictures from the three books he was in. Each year he was with the same group of students, only one or two were different. Their names were printed on the bottom of the picture. I snapped a few of the staff each year too. I didn’t know how yet but knew they were connected, somehow, to all of it. He wouldn’t have left the clues if they weren’t.

  A creak like a closing door sounded from behind the bookshelves. Was she back so soon and why a different door? I turned towards the noise and noted a flash of blue behind a book shelf. Curious, I sauntered toward the book shelves and heard footsteps and a door close. I followed the sound until I came to a back door. Shifting my eyes left and right and listening, then pushed against the bar on the heavy metal door. It opened and all I saw was the camp. Not a soul in sight. I chalked it up to paranoia or ghosts. This place was giving me the creeps.

  I padded back to the table in time for her return. She must have run all the way. Should I ask her about the Childrones or the Briggses? Her strange behavior after me asking for a drink, as if I was going to rob the place or take her down with a weapon when she returned, made me wonder; maybe it wasn’t good to remind her of the names that I was associated with. “Thank you for your time. Camp starts June twenty-third?”

  “Yes, but we need to know at the latest by the end of the week. We have two spots open,” she said with a toothy, nervous smile.

  I was surprised they had any spots open even with so many months ahead before the start of the summer. “Of course. I’ll have that answer.”

  She shoved a brochure into my hand as we walked back towards the office.

  Take a Deep Breath

  After returning to the motel, I scanned through the boys’ photos from the articles Einstein saved and compared them to the ones I took from the academy yearbooks. The same faces stared back at me. Not every boy was a victim, but each victim went to the academy.

  I called my brother Will. He never mentioned this place but I wanted his take and could ask him anything and be completely candid with him.

  The phone rang and I was shocked when he answered right away. “Hey, sis,” he said in his joyful voice.

  In the past few years we’d been in each other’s lives we’d gotten to know each other well and he knew by the tone of my voice I wasn’t calling for pleasure so I got right to it and asked him about the camp.

  “I went there one summer. It was OK, wasn’t really my thing. What are you working on?”

  I spilled, but it wasn’t my intention to tell him everything. I just wanted an initial reaction before telling him my thoughts and his reaction didn’t raise any red flags.

  “Why don’t you let me hire a detective? You don’t need to do this,” he urged.

  Why is he against me investigating? Was Miss Bubbly really a serial stalker? Regardless, I need to do it for my own peace of mind. “I am a detective and learned from a detective.”

  “The place was eerie but that’s what happens when that many science tech nerds are placed in close proximity. They all have the ability to rule the world and that idea becomes very clear after a few days,” he said, a no nonsense tone to his voice. That might be the reason he didn’t want me investigating, but my gut said there was more.

  I chuckled, inappropriately, but his words made me picture nerd villains with pocket protectors and thick glasses that pushed buttons acting like puppet masters. I wondered for a second how many hackers spent time at the camp. I dismissed the thought. “I know you meant that, but do you realize how crazy it sounds?”

  “That camp is crazy and those kids go on to build high tech military weapons and hack into and build the most sophisticated computer programs, weapons, and viruses.”

  “Do you have proof of that?”

  “No,” he sighed. “But I don’t doubt it.”

  OK, so the
children were geniuses holding onto their sanity by a thread but that didn’t make them horrible. “I figured it was more a place to send rich brats for the summer so their parents didn’t have to deal with them.”

  “Partly. That’s why I was sent there.”

  “And you’re not planning on taking over the world anytime soon.”

  “I don’t know, the business is really expanding right now,” he said with a chuckle, but it was true. My last dividend check exceeded all the others.

  “So they’re creepy nerds, but what about the people who worked there?”

  “Creepier. Who wants to spend their time with nerds but other nerds so they can foster nerdiness?”

  “Point taken and nobody stood out as child predatorish?”

  “Not when I was there, but on the disturbing scale that place rates a solid ten,” he said in a concerned voice.

  “I’ll be careful. I promise.” I’d said that before and ended up in bad situations.

  “How are you doing?” How am I doing? He hadn’t mentioned anything about his father. They weren’t close, but I knew he cared. I decided to let him tell me on his terms.

  I knew he meant how was I getting on since Raul’s death. “Day by day, and yes, this venture is helping busy my mind. It’s also something I need to do for Einstein and the other boys. He left all the puzzle pieces but I have to fit them together.”

  “If you need help, I can have a body guard to you in a jiff.” I imagined him winking one of his handsome green eyes.

  “I got it and if I need anything I’ll call you.” No doubt he’d worry and hire his own investigator, but I could handle myself and I’d be in New York in a couple days to meet with Mrs. Childrone and surprise him.

  My job in Niagara Falls done, I tossed my dirty clothes into a trash bag and smashed it into my suitcase, then dropped into a sleep too exhausted and jetlagged to even eat.

  I awoke sick to my stomach. It flipped and turned until everything came out – mango juice. It was a yellowish orange and I almost vomited again. After retching I found myself oddly hungry. I can’t say I have ever really been sick in my life, but since Raul’s death everything changed. If I’d had time in my life, I might have considered seeing a doctor but my life was too demanding and most likely it was my horrible diet as of late and stress of my beloved’s death. Maybe my hard as steel guts softened over time with healthy eating.

  There was a mom and pop diner open for breakfast next door to the motel. I wandered over and ordered a fruit bowl and a biscuit along with coffee and a large chocolate milk. The little dive reminded me of somewhere Einstein and I would have stopped for breakfast with its orange metal framed chairs, Formica table tops and bar that allowed the patrons to watch the cooks in action. Sitting at a booth alone was a young girl. Her hair in a pony tail that fell out of a turquoise baseball cap. Her eyes fixed on the table in front of her. I saw a former me.

  The place was packed but I managed to squish in and take a seat at the bar close to the rich aroma of the coffee. Pans tinging as they were moved to and from the stove and customer chatter mingled with the Chubby Checker song made my breakfast a flash from my past. I finished my coffee and stopped the waitress, “Can I get my tab, please?”

  She smiled. “Of course. I’ll bring it right out.”

  I motioned her closer. “The girl to the right of the bar. What do you know about her?”

  Without glancing she responded, “Nothing. She’s not a regular.”

  “How much is her tab?”

  “All she had was a muffin and ice water, so a buck twenty,” she responded with raised brows.

  I slipped her three twenties. “Bring her the biggest breakfast you have, on me.” Only a muffin and all alone? My heart went out to her and all I could think about was myself, starving at her age. She didn’t look older than fifteen. And there was something else I couldn’t yet place, something about her ate at me.

  Her eyes enlarged as she nodded her approval.

  I strolled back to the little motel and packed. It seemed the only way to get in and out of NF was by car. The airport was so tiny it didn’t even have a flight to LaGuardia; probably for the best. I sucked it up and called for a rental, then opened my computer and searched for the home addresses of the children in the pictures.

  I didn’t know what they would tell me, but Einstein’s murdered friend lived in upstate New York and I was going there. What I would say and do was another story. A knock on my door alerted me that my car had arrived.

  We went through the process of checking dings and dents, mileage, and the whole shebang before I signed my life away. A tad dramatic, but that’s how I felt. On the island I walked or ran, occasionally I took my bike. There was no need for a car. But in the states, driving was a must, and every part of me dreaded it.

  I smiled nervously as he handed me the key and left. I stared at the car for a minute. It was a midsize, nondescript tan car. I popped the trunk and loaded my luggage when my phone rang.

  La Tige. Most likely he figured out I skipped town and was worried. “Hey.”

  “We’re worried about you. You can’t just take up and leave whenever you please after what you’ve been through,” a female voice sailed through the speaker into my ear. Ashla, my aunt of many identities, and La Tige’s wife from ages past. They were working things out and she managed to sneak his phone, undoubtedly knowing I wouldn’t answer if I saw her number.

  Strolling away from my car and toward my room I answered, “I’m stateside and fine. I have things to do.” I didn’t hide the perturbed ring in my voice.

  “I’m sorry. You’re a grown woman but I’ve faced loss and, well, you know how I coped. It wasn’t pretty.” Her mother hen concern wasn’t what I needed right now.

  She was the epitome of a weak woman who looked for men to be her heroes and her story was completely different than mine even though there were a few similarities that I assumed were genetic anomalies. “I’ll be fine, send La Tige...” I stopped mid-sentence, he had no idea she called me. He would have sent a simple text: Call me if you need me. She did this on her own and if he knew he’d grow annoyed. I finished my statement, adding a sharpness to the end, “my love,” and hung up.

  I grabbed my purse out of the motel, stuffing my phone inside it, dropped the trunk lid on the car and went back to the office and dropped off my key.

  Settling into the seat and maneuvering it and the mirrors until I was comfortable, I set the GPS for Einstein’s friend’s childhood home. According to my research, the family still lived there. I breathed deeply and let out a big sigh before driving.

  I finally entered their subdivision, about thirty minutes outside the cement jungle of New York City. Large, shady trees with an array of colored leaves gave the area a country appeal without being completely in the country. The GPS guided my destination: turn left... turn right...

  Every house at least two stories with fashionable trim and matching lawns manicured to perfection. Each house uniquely different, with brick or siding facades. Some had wide porches, others had foyers set back from the front of the house with double doors.

  I parked along the curb and shifted into park. The house was solid brick on all sides visible, with a large stained glass front door set inside a foyer directly in the middle of the front. On either side of the door were large matching windows. I imagined the bedrooms were in the back or upstairs since the front was so symmetrical and most likely contained a large living room, kitchen and dining room. Modern high dollar plastic fencing surrounded the back yard. The driveway veered to the left, ending with a wide garage door. The home appeared to have three stories with possibly a loft.

  I took in a breath, preparing to meet this child’s parents. Other than curiosity, I didn’t know why I was here. I wore short heeled boots, the tops covered by my slacks, and a sweater for the professional appearance and to keep in body heat, protecting me from the fall chill. I’d figured I wouldn’t get past the front door unless I looked present
able. I stepped out of the car. The scent of leaves filled the air, crisp and rich, and a slight breeze pushed against my back as I strode to the front door, still unaware of what I’d say.

  I hit the door bell and a loud ding-dong rang through the house and inside my ears. Footfalls moved towards the door, getting louder as they drew closer. Within a few minutes the door opened and a good-looking older man stood on the other side.

  His thinning salt and pepper hair neatly trimmed above his ears. Thin wrinkles framed his piercing blue eyes and his straight lips formed no smile. He furrowed his brows as his eyes scanned me. “No solicitors. Didn’t you read the sign?” he said in a deep voice as he pointed to a red metal sign with white letters nailed into the brick near the door.

  I smiled. “I’m not a solicitor, Mr. Applebaum. I’m a private detective.” That sounded sooo much better, I thought as he narrowed his disapproving eyes.

  “A private detective. What do you want with us?” he spat. This was going to be harder than I thought.

  “I’m investigating a case that brought me to the case of your son,” I said in a very businesslike no-nonsense tone. I fixed my eyes on Mr. Applebaum who stared at me, steam shooting through his ears.

  “That was many years ago. My wife doesn’t need to relive the details as she has fought daily to move past it,” he sneered.

  I swallowed and opened my mouth to speak. Lowering my voice I said, “We don’t need to talk around your wife. We can meet somewhere else.”

  The man nodded and in the background I heard a female voice, “Who is it, honey?”

  “Wrong house, honey,” he hollered back, his piercing eyes shifting to the corner then back to me. “Meet me at Jack’s Tavern in thirty minutes,” he said then shut the door in my face.