The Forgotten Eden

by Aiden James

  “Really? Well that explains what Jeremy and I discovered around Thanksgiving that year,” said Jack, suddenly feeling privileged to learn another connection related to his experience. “Do I have time to share it, or will your recorder run out of space?”

  “It’s still got about half an hour left,” Peter advised. “Regardless, I want to hear what you’ve got to say.”

  “I’ll try to make this quick,” said Jack. “Strictly against any of us returning to Carlsdale, Grandpa felt we’d already seen everything of importance there. To him, better to remember our old place as it once was.

  “Jeremy and I managed to live with this mandate for a month or so. But, we really missed our friends. Grandpa remained strong in his resolve to keep us from going back, until Thanksgiving break. He finally relented because our old buddies were out of school that Friday, as were we.

  “Grandpa’s orders were for us to stay away from the woods and the river. We promised to obey his wishes; fully knowing we’d visit those very places before the day ended. If he’d felt up to it, I’m sure he would’ve insisted on joining us, just to make sure we stayed out of trouble.

  “Jeremy and I were excited. My brother had purchased a brand new truck just two days earlier with the insurance money he received for his previous one. He could hardly wait to show Freddy and Ronnie, and I looked forward to having him show it off to my buddy Lee as well.

  “Maybe not as awesome as his other truck, a GMC, the Dodge Ram he’d purchased was still a beauty. Metallic dark purple in color, it shimmered in the sunlight on our uncle and aunt’s main driveway. Equipped with a shiny chrome spoiler and headers, the chrome wheels were the most expensive ones he could find in Tuscaloosa. Everything else top of the line as well, for my first few trips riding in it, I was pretty fearful. God forbid I might scuff up the interior or spill something!

  “We arrived at Freddy’s home in Demopolis late that morning, and went out for a burger with him and Ronnie. Then we left them to visit Lee. It felt strange driving along Lelan’s Way in a truck with Jeremy again. Even weirder than I’d felt with the rest of our family back in September.

  “Lee, as I believe I told you, lived right across the street from the field we wrecked in. He and his family have since moved to Birmingham. I imagine Mr. Donohue had a hand in that, too, especially since the Hornes lived just a few houses away from us…. That afternoon, Lee and his family were fixing to head over to Mobile for the rest of the weekend, so we didn’t visit long with him either. We now had plenty of time to visit our old home again, and everywhere else we planned to go.

  “We didn’t spend much time that day at our former residence, as the only thing we desired to see was the old tool shed again. Neither of us could get over the fact it’d remained unscathed by the tornado’s furious assault. I discussed Bobby’s disappearance with my brother for the first time. He recalled hearing something about it on the news one night, though he hadn’t paid much attention. I shared what I’d learned about Bobby’s abduction in Mississippi, including the stuff about the reptilian tracks and the newly discovered hot spring in Bienville National Forest.

  “He asked me where I’d obtained my information, since he wasn’t aware of much of what I told him. I confessed that for the most part it’d come from The Star and the National Enquirer. My brother looked at me as if trying to decide whether he should burst out laughing or scold me instead.

  “‘You’ve got to be fucking kidding!’ he said. ‘You got your facts straight from a couple of grocery store tabloids?’ He threw his head back and laughed heartily, so tickled at this.

  “‘Jackie, they’re goddamn gossip papers for Christ’s sake!’ he scoffed, looking at me incredulously. ‘You’ve got to be careful what you read into that shit, man! I mean, was the article you read plastered right smack between the story about the baby with three heads and another stating Elvis is alive and well amongst the Aborigines?’

  “‘He placed his hands on his hips in an effort to keep from doubling over in his amusement, his face wearing the smirk I’d learned to loathe so dearly.

  “Infuriated, I couldn’t think of anything to refute his point. I decided right then to show him some hard evidence. Pretty sure that for whatever happened in Mississippi to occur, something significant would’ve had to happen first in our area. I knew I’d find evidence in the clearing.

  “Jeremy agreed to let me try and prove my theory, still chuckling to himself as we got back in his truck. Unbeknownst to us at the time, that’d be the last time we ever visited our old property. I got one last good look at it as we drove away. I believe the image of our decimated yard will remain with me forever.

  “‘Jack, even if that stuff you told me about had been in the ‘Constitution’ or the ‘Herald’, or even in ‘USA Today’, you’ve still got to be careful,’ Jeremy told me as we turned onto Baileys Bend Road, his brotherly admonishment not yet finished. ‘I’d take all that pseudo-journalistic crap with a grain of salt if I were you.’

  “‘All right,’ I said. ‘But, do you think you can wait and see what we find out before you lecture me some more?’

  “He eyed me like our grandfather so often eyed him, as if wondering whether my remark was smart enough to warrant a solid backhand across my mouth. When he looked away and back to the road, I could tell he still debated the issue. Once on Black Warrior Road and approaching the spot where the old bridge once stood, he completely forgot my remarks, as did I.

  “In place of the rickety wooden structure stood a brand new one, and what a new one at that! Colorful and fancy, like something straight out of Disneyworld. Wide enough to allow two vehicles to travel along its length side by side, it had a steel chain barrier across its opening with a sign advising all trespassers to keep out. Of course, at the time, we had no idea Malcolm Donohue owned most of the area by then.

  “‘The barrier enough to keep us from driving the truck across the river, it didn’t deter us from crossing by foot. After parking the truck near the same spot we left Grandpa’s Jeep four months earlier, we set out across the bridge and reached the clearing a short while later, where even more surprises awaited us.

  “‘Just as the tornado flattened our property, the landscape here was likewise altered. But, rather than by nature or a supernatural force, it was done by other people. Two bulldozers and a backhoe were parked near the middle of the clearing, and the fort remains and rock formation had been reduced to two piles of rubble. The entire area barren, as the land was recently graded. Only the Indian burial mounds and the surrounding woods that bordered the clearing were spared.

  “I walked toward what was left of the rock formation, with Jeremy limping after me once he realized where I headed. His knee still bothered him quite a bit back then, as it ended up taking a good year for him to walk pain-free.

  “‘What’s up, Jackie?’ he asked, slightly winded once he caught up with me.

  “‘I’ve got a hunch, based on the so-called ‘pseudo-journalism’ I told you about a short while ago,’ I said, and hurried over to the pile of dirt and rock fragments lying where the hot spring once sat.

  “It took me a moment to locate what I was searching for, the remains of the two pools from the hot spring. Both were full of dirt and debris. Only a tiny gurgling brook from the ancient spring remained, leaving a small puddle in the main pool’s center.

  “‘Well??’ he demanded, when he caught up to me again.

  “‘It fits, Jeremy. It all makes perfect sense now.’

  “I pointed to the puddle and then briefly explained what it had to do with the tabloid stories. It seemed obvious the machinery surrounding us couldn’t have shut down the hot spring, despite the damage it’d definitely wrought on the rocks themselves. Whatever had provided the thermal energy for the pools had definitely left the area, and I was determined to prove to him that it’d moved on to Mississippi.

  “‘I’ll grant you it’s not a good idea to rely on tabloid shit for your news coverage, but it brought me h
ere. Right?’ I remember telling him. ‘What about all of this, man? Where do you think the hot spring ‘disappeared’ to? Don’t you think it’s possible it could’ve gone someplace else? And one just happened to be discovered last month where it didn’t exist before??

  “‘I’d bet Grandpa would think the same thing as me,’ I continued. ‘I’ll even bet the folks who’ve gone to the trouble of tearing this place up know something about it, too. I mean, why would they go and do all of this work to the area now, in the middle of nowhere, after it’s been neglected for so long? Don’t you see the strange connection in all of this? You should at least be open to what I’m thinking after all we’ve been through this year!’

  “I turned away for a moment, allowing my gaze to wander throughout the area. It always fascinated me how sparse the wooded areas in southern Alabama would look in late fall and throughout the winter, as compared to spring and in the summer months. I could see for quite a distance in any direction. But I clearly recalled this very place in summer, when visibility beyond a few feet into the dense foliage was a virtual impossibility.

  “‘I think you believe it, too, Jeremy,’ I said, turning to face him. ‘I’d bet money on it.’

  “Jeremy just snickered and shook his head.

  “‘We might never know for sure on that, Jackie.’

  “‘Why not?’

  “‘Well for one thing, I rarely kiss and tell,’ he said, smiling wryly. ‘But for another, we’ve got company.’

  “He pointed to a figure in a flannel shirt and hunters cap carrying a rifle with a scope on it, climbing over the Indian burial mounds located just to the south. Once the man reached the bottom of the last mound, he ran toward us.

  “‘We better get the hell out of here!’ urged my brother, limping more noticeably as we raced out of the clearing.

  “From behind, we heard a loud report from the man’s rifle, though we didn’t hear a bullet whistle by. I figure he shot a warning toward the sky. But he needn’t worry, for we weren’t planning to stay or go back there anytime soon. We didn’t stop until we reached Jeremy’s truck on the river’s other side.

  “We sped out of there and didn’t slow down until we were on Baileys Bend Road again, all the while checking our rearview mirrors to see if anyone followed us. We struggled to catch our breath as our run had been damn near a mile, and streams of sweat ran down our faces.

  “‘Whew-w-w!!! That was close!’ I said, relieved the danger was safely behind us.

  “‘I wonder what that fucker was up to back there, anyway?’ said Jeremy. ‘Hunting Season’s over now, isn’t it?’

  “‘I believe it ended last week,’ I replied.

  “‘Perhaps that stuff sitting in the clearing was his, or at least his to guard,’ he said. ‘I couldn’t see his face too well, but from where we were standing, he looked pretty pissed.’

  “‘We better let Grandpa know about this.’

  “‘Why? It’ll just upset him because he’ll know we were there. I think that’s a bad idea.’

  “‘I think we should tell him regardless, Jeremy,’ I countered, turning toward him to better emphasize my point. ‘He’d be mad just a little, since I’m sure he’d appreciate the information we’d be sharing with him.’

  “‘We’ll see,’ he sighed. ‘I still think it’s a bad idea, but let’s think on it until we get home. Okay?’

  “I agreed to wait, and before long we were heading north on Highway Forty-three. For the next half hour, we rode in silence. I let my mind drift back to the first time I met Genovene near the river’s edge. If I’d only known the truth about her then…. The whole mess could’ve been avoided.

  “‘You’re thinking about all of this shit, too, huh?’ Jeremy asked, as he watched me stare in silence through the passenger-side window.

  “‘Uh-huh. I’m just trying to make sense of it all.’

  “‘Well, don’t kill yourself doing that, Jackie,’ he said. ‘We may never know for certain with all the bullshit happening around here.’

  “‘Perhaps you’re right,’ I said. ‘Do you believe we’ll ever get back to having a normal life like everybody else?’

  “I turned to see his reaction. He smiled weakly. The look on his face one of curious admiration, like he was truly growing to like me despite every effort on his part to see me like he once did. But things had changed significantly since then, as life had changed. More importantly, I’d changed, with a more detached outlook on life.

  “‘I seriously doubt it, Jackie,’ he said. ‘Sorry I can’t offer you a rainbow and sunshine in regard to our future. That’s just the way I see it.’

  “‘Yeah, I figured as much,’ I sighed. ‘I hope you’re wrong.’

  “‘Me, too, Jackie—Goddamn it!! Here they come again!!’

  “He grimaced, looking into the rearview mirror. He stepped harder on the gas and I glanced in the passenger-side mirror, craning my neck to confirm the burgundy sedan that’d snuck onto the highway.

  “No matter how fast or slow we traveled, the mysterious car kept pace, fifty to sixty feet behind us. Jeremy launched into one of his worst profanity-laced tirades. He pushed the throttle even harder, and the truck roared along the highway. Even so, the sedan closed the gap between us to less than a hundred feet. As if its occupants wanted to reaffirm we couldn’t escape their surveillance. The sedan stayed with us until just a few miles from our uncle and aunt’s home, and then disappeared from our view.

  “We did tell Grandpa about our little adventure, but not until Christmas. Since we didn’t plan to ever go back to Carlsdale, he readily forgave our broken promises.

  “The continual surveillance lasted the next few years, even after Grandpa purchased a new home for us all in Tuscaloosa. A lot smaller than our beloved farmhouse, he seemed okay with the three-bedroom bungalow located near the southern outskirts of town. The house itself another old one, built in the late nineteenth century, he said it reminded him of the home he and our grandma briefly rented when they got married.

  “I did well, in athletics and my schoolwork at St. Andrews, and decided to attend the University of Alabama on a full-ride baseball scholarship. Meanwhile, Grandpa and I were just as proud of Jeremy for straightening out his life and for his newfound ambitions. I damn near had to pinch myself when he raced through Alabama’s undergraduate program in three years, maintaining a near perfect 3.98 GPA. And, now he’s doing the same thing while finishing work on his master’s degree in ancient studies at the University’s graduate program.

  “I guess that pretty much brings us up to date, Agen—I mean, Peter.”

  Jack settled back in his chair again, only this time relieved. A little euphoric as well. The revelation of so many secrets to a complete stranger lifted a burden from his soul.

  ***

  “Well, okay then. Absolutely, that’s an incredible story, Jack!”

  Seeming quite pleased, Peter stood up and walked over to the coffee machine and threw his empty cup into the nearly full wastebasket next to it. He then came back to the table and turned the recorder off.

  “I’ll be right back. I’ve gotta go again,” he advised, motioning to the restroom. “When I return, we’ll wrap things up and get out of here.”

  “Sounds good,” said Jack.

  He watched the agent disappear into the restroom, feeling confident he and Jeremy would return home to Tuscaloosa by the next day at the latest. But he worried about Jeremy’s reaction to the fact he’d broken the vow of silence they shared with their grandfather.

  When Peter returned to his seat at the table, he came armed with a fresh cup of coffee.

  “Do you want anything more to drink, Jack?”

  “Nah, I’m fine.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yeah. But, I’m just about ready for dinner.”

  “Me, too, brother. Me too.” Peter smiled and stirred a small packet of cream into his steaming cup, breaking his routine by adding something to his usual black coffee. “I must s
ay you’ve been very helpful, especially to me personally, Jack. I’m very grateful for the information you’ve provided me.”

  He removed the recorder from the table and placed it inside the duffel bag. He then folded his hands in front of himself on the table.

  “As I told you earlier, it’s my turn to provide some meaningful information.”

  “Does that mean I get to check out those two books now?” asked Jack.

  “Well, to be honest with you, I’d rather you wait to check them out while we’re driving you guys to the airport,” he said, frowning slightly as he glanced at his wristwatch. “Actually, I’d really like for you and Jeremy to accompany me to Richmond tonight, and then fly home from there tomorrow. In fact, I’d truly appreciate it if you’d do this, because I’d like to introduce you to my boss, Stu Johnson. He might even grant you access to some of the more interesting items locked away in our archives. At least it would give you more time to review these books.”

  “This isn’t the same ‘Stu Johnson’ my grandfather dealt with, is it?”

  Jack’s contentment faded and Peter seemed taken aback by the question’s implications. The agent looked as if he never considered this notion before. He chuckled nervously. But his radiant smile soon returned, and he eyed Jack in much the same way a loving parent would eye their young child who claimed to have found a boogey man lying in wait under the bed.

  “No, Jack. I’m positive they’re not the same person,” he assured him. “For one thing, it takes a long time to move up in the ranks of any federal agency, and if we do the math involved here, the ‘Stu Johnson’ your grandpa knew would have had to be with us for at least a decade before he encountered him, say what…almost twenty years ago? Yeah, that would be right, because the report on the sphere was published that long ago.