The Future Scrolls

by Fern Michaels

  “Aha! Caught you in the act! Off! Off! Wait till I catch you! Sixteen dollars a pound for shrimp! You’ll get dried cat food for a week!” Dani screeched.

  Bismarck’s descent was second only to a streak of lightning. He was off the table and under the sofa in a split second. Dani grimaced, set the table to rights and made apologetic noises to Stash on the other end of the wire.

  Seven

  Eugene Whitcomb drove the dilapidated car around the corner and parked. “Look,” he whispered, removing his sunglasses for a better look at the small figure bouncing along the sidewalk. “It’s her, all right. She must be going to the deli. We’ll grab her when she comes out.” Eugene scowled at the unexpected shadow that settled on Lou’s face.

  “I don’t like it,” Lou muttered. “Snatching kids is something else. Trouble, big trouble!” He continued to mutter to himself.

  “Listen to me; we’re not taking any old kid. This one is my niece. It’s just like she’ll be visiting us for a while. We aren’t going to hurt her. I have as much right to her as that woman who’s watching her.”

  “Yeah, that’s right. That makes it different,” Eugene’s skinny partner said, relief in his voice.

  “We have to be careful,” cautioned Eugene. “This kid isn’t like other kids. God knows what she’ll do when she realizes we’re picking her up. Probably try to make a citizen’s arrest,” he said sourly. “Our best bet is to laugh a lot so, if she screams, people will think it’s some kind of game. You know, Lou; you’ve seen how they do it in the movies.”

  Lou nodded sagely. “I like kids,” he said gruffly. “You gotta promise not to hurt her.”

  “Would I harm my own flesh and blood?” Eugene asked, a smirk slowly crossing his face.

  “I dunno,” Lou scowled. “I won’t be a party to any rough stuff. Just remember that,” he said, hitching up his pants on his skinny frame.

  “Here she comes. Get ready. Just pretend it’s a game and we’re the ones who have to win—the kid has to lose.”

  Lou accepted this declaration with a smile. Eugene was right after all. She was only a kid. They were grown-ups.

  Maria unwrapped her bubblegum as she skipped along. Punishment was a fleeting thing. Bubblegum was right now. “One, two, buckle my shoe, three, four, shut the door,” she laughed as she chomped on the chewy sweet. “Five, six, pick up sticks, seven, eight, close the gate, nine, ten . . . Hey—”

  “Finish the rest,” Eugene smiled, as he grabbed one of Maria’s arms and Lou reached for the other. “We captured the fat hen!” Eugene laughed uproariously with Lou joining in.

  Maria looked from face to face, puzzled. She didn’t understand. “Who are you?” She shouted to be heard above the shrill laughter. “Let me alone! Remove your hands from me.” She looked at Eugene suspiciously. “Are you molesting me?”

  “Not on your life, kid. Would your own uncle molest you?”

  “Uncle! You’re not my uncle,” Maria screeched as she realized the men’s intent. Eugene had the door open and was trying to force Maria into the car. Lou stopped dead in his tracks.

  “You said you wuz her uncle. She said you ain’t.”

  Eugene gave Maria a violent shove and climbed in beside her. “Don’t open your mouth,” he hissed. “If you do, I’ll have to gag you. Come on, Lou, I said I was her uncle and I am. I can’t help it if this kid’s old man doesn’t think I’m good enough for her. Would I lie to you?” he asked, watching the indecision on the tall, thin man’s face. “Get in the damn car before somebody comes along.”

  “Yeah, I guess you’re right,” Lou grinned. “Rich people are like that. Figure we ain’t good enough for them.” He eyed Maria silently as he got behind the wheel. “He’s a nice man, your uncle,” he said magnanimously.

  “He is not my uncle,” Marie said between clenched teeth. She looked at Eugene haughtily. “It is a genetic impossibility,” she said, her voice ringing with authority.

  “You should wash her mouth out with soap,” Lou said virtuously. “Where did she learn them kind of words? You sure she’s related to you?” he asked suspiciously.

  “Yeah, yeah. Now shut up and drive. Take her to your place. Val will have a fit if I bring her to our suite.”

  “You are kidnapping me! Don’t try to deny it,” Maria yelled in outrage.

  “You got it all wrong, kid. We’re just borrowing you for a while. Take it easy,” Lou coaxed.

  “Do not tell me you are borrowing me. Only an idiot would believe that. You have the ulterior motive. What is it? I demand to know! Are you going to hold me for ransom? If so, I am afraid that on the open market I am worth very little.” She opened her hand. “Seventeen cents and a box of Uncle Ben’s long-grain rice.”

  Eugene shot her a disgusted look. ‘’Honey, your papa has a lot more than seventeen cents and a box of rice.”

  Maria’s mind raced. She had to think of something. Sister Theresa had said she would be the smartest one in the class if she would just apply herself to her studies. She knew she was being kidnapped. In the back of her mind, she knew it had to do with her father and mother. Perhaps she could help. I will get away, she thought confidently.

  Besides, I have the diplomatic immunity. They would not dare to hurt me. Still, she would have to act frightened.

  Maria raised wide, frightened eyes to meet Eugene’s narrowed ones. “I am afraid, sir, that you are unaware of the mishaps that have befallen our hacienda. We are almost destitute. My papa is here in this city right now, trying to borrow money just to keep us alive. We are starving,” she added pitifully. “I am afraid he cannot pay for my release.”

  “Jeez,” Lou said, “how much does he need? I got a little socked away; maybe I could help him. I hate to think of someone going hungry.”

  “Lou,” Eugene yelled, “shut up!”

  Maria smirked to herself. “The day I left, there was but a crust of bread with a spoonful of jam,” she said sadly. “My poor old grandmother wanted me to eat it. I could not. I made myself think of other things. I gave the crust to my grandmother and I . . . I licked the spoon,” she said dramatically. “One has to sacrifice in these trying times.”

  “You did that, kid?” Lou blubbered. “That’s the nicest thing I ever heard of. Ain’t that the nicest thing you ever heard of, Eugene?”

  “Shut up, Lou. She’s pulling your leg and you’re too dumb to know it. Does she look hungry to you?”

  Maria tried to look hungry but it was hard with a mouth full of bubblegum. Still, she tried. “No, I am not hungry now. This kind lady took me and fed me and has offered me a home. I do not even know where my father is. He may be lying in a ditch somewhere . . . starving.”

  “Come off it, kid; we don’t have ditches in New York,” Eugene said nastily.

  “She probably means an alley,” Lou said, stretching his neck to peer at Maria. “Right, kid?”

  Maria nodded. “And my grandmother, she may have starved by now.” Her words were pitiful. “I am all alone with this box of rice and seventeen cents,” she said slyly.

  Eugene, sensing his grand moment getting away from him, blustered, “Listen to me, you little twerp, stop playing on Lou’s sympathy. He’s dumb but I’m not. I know exactly what your old man is worth on the hoof, and that old grandmother of yours isn’t wasting away either. So just shut up about it and stop trying to make Lou nervous.”

  Maria hunched herself into a corner of the small car and sat silently, her eyes moving from Eugene, her uncle, to Lou in the front seat. Something had to be done. Dani would be worried. Would Dani tell her father? Of course she would.

  What would Papa do? Maria wrinkled her nose and thought. He would say that if she found herself in a predicament she didn’t like, then she would have to get herself out of it. She frowned; she wasn’t sure if that theory held for kidnapping or not. Probably so; her papa was very firm. Rarely did he renege on a decision. She had to think. There must be some way for her to let Dani know she was all right. She cast a sidelong
glance at Eugene. He was a little smarter than his friend in the front seat.

  “Do you have a gun?” Maria asked anxiously.

  “Why?” Eugene asked curtly.

  “No reason, I just wondered,” was the nonchalant response.

  “Well, stop wondering. Park in the back, Lou—less chance of someone finding out what’s going on.”

  Lou swung the old Mustang around the corner and came to a halt. “Home is where your heart is,” he chortled, as he looked at the dingy building.

  Eugene dragged Maria by the arm and pushed her against the iron fence that blocked off a dirty-looking alley. “Just stand still for a minute and don’t move. No tricks. Understand?” Maria nodded.

  Maria stood like a ramrod, and looked around. Depressing, she thought. She wondered what the conversation was about as she watched Lou and Eugene whispering near the fence. Whatever it was, Lou appeared to be upset. Eugene was gloating. Maria was puzzled. What did they want with her anyway? How did they know about her father? It must have something to do with the secret. She was sure of it. The secret and her mother. She watched as Eugene climbed back into the old car and drove away.

  “Come on, kid, you come with me. I won’t hurt you if you behave yourself.”

  “I know that,” Maria said, her tone full of confidence. “I could tell, just as soon as you started to speak, that you were the one with the brains. It shows,” she smiled.

  “Really,” Lou smiled back.

  “Oh, my, yes, that . . . that man claims he is my uncle. He is not my uncle. I do not lie, sir.” She shook her head from side to side. “I could tell right away that you didn’t believe a word of that. Why, anyone can look at him and see that there is not the faintest resemblance between us. I could see in your eyes that you didn’t believe him, even when you said you did.”

  “Yeah, you’re right,” Lou said seriously. “But he said he was your step-uncle.”

  “That’s not the same thing. That makes it artificial. Don’t you agree?”

  “Yeah,” Lou muttered as they walked up the dingy stairway. Wait till he got a hold of that Eugene. He was always lying to him. Artificial uncle! The kid had more smarts than Eugene would ever have.

  Lou opened the grimy door and ushered Maria into an equally grimy room. “It ain’t much, but it’s home,” Lou apologized.

  “I find it . . . quaint,” Maria smiled. “It looks . . . lived in,” she said as she noticed a run-down, crooked rocking chair. Everything was in one room: kitchen, bedroom, living room.

  “It’s called an efficiency.”

  “Yes, I see that; everything is very handy,” Maria smirked.

  “Sit down, kid. Are you hungry? No? Well, then, just sit here,” he said, motioning to a chair. “Eugene said I was to tie you up. Jeez, you’re only a kid. If I don’t tie you up, will you promise to behave and listen to me?” Maria nodded. She was glad he didn’t say anything about not trying to get away. It was her duty to try and escape. She had seen a movie once and the prisoners refused to promise that they would not try to escape. It was something about the Geneva Convention. All they were required to give was name, rank, and serial number.

  “Do you think I could have something to drink, Mr. Lou?” Maria asked hesitantly.

  “Sure, kid, but all we got is beer. You old enough to drink beer?”

  Maria wrinkled her nose. “Of course; do you think I’m a baby?”

  “Well,” Lou shrugged, “you never know. I don’t drink it myself. Makes me dizzy.”

  “Really,” Maria said, her eyes lighting up conspiratorially. “Sometimes I get dizzy, too. Perhaps, later, we can get dizzy together.” She laughed at the joke and Lou smiled.

  “You ain’t so bad, kid. How come Eugene don’t like you? He said you was different.”

  “What do you suppose he meant? Do I look different to you?”

  Lou shook his head.

  “See, I told you, you’re smarter than he is. How did you get into this kidnapping business? It could be dangerous. If I were some other kid, I would have screamed for the police and then where would you be? Crime doesn’t pay,” she said virtuously. “You should tell your friend that you prefer to make an honest living.”

  “Yeah, you’re right, I know. But see, it was like this. I work in a funeral parlor. It gets to you after a while. You know, carrying and pushing those stiffs from one place to another.” He twitched his nose and shrugged his shoulders. “And that embalming fluid! Jeez! I can always go back if I want to. Most people aren’t in a hurry to take those kinds of jobs. When Eugene asked me if I wanted to help and make some big money, I said OK. Not so much for the money, but just to do something different. He said it ain’t exactly illegal; we would just skirt the edges.” Maria nodded understandingly. “You know, kid, you ain’t so bad. I thought you’d be screaming and carrying on like those wild kids on television,” he said happily.

  “I know,” Maria smiled. “That’s what everyone tells me. Truthfully, Mr. Lou, what good would it do me to carry on and cry and scream? I would only get upset and then you would get upset and then we would both be upset. So what is the point?”

  “Yeah,” Lou muttered. “What do you want to do? Do you want to listen to the radio or watch some television?”

  “There is not anything good on Sunday morning and I have a headache, so the radio will bother me. Do you have anything to read?”

  “Naw, you want something like Peter Rabbit or Goldilocks. I only have Playboy,” he said seriously. “Let’s just talk; I like to talk.”

  “What do you want to talk about?” Maria asked conversationally.

  Lou shrugged, “Whatever you want.”

  “Well,” Maria said hesitantly, “who did you vote for in the presidential election?”

  “I don’t remember—Clinton, I think.”

  “That was a poor choice. You should have voted for the one that said he would put chickens in every pot. Or is it two cars in every garage?” Lou looked blank.

  “My father said your American presidents always make campaign promises like that. He said the two chickens always works.” Lou still looked blank.

  “No one ever gave me two chickens,” Lou said belligerently. “Guess I picked the wrong guy.” Maria couldn’t help smirking.

  “How do you feel about unions?”

  “I belong to one,” Lou grinned. “They ain’t so bad the weeks they don’t take out the union dues. What do you think?”

  Maria laughed inwardly at the serious expression on Lou’s face. “I’m in favor of the four-day week. Actually, I can take them or leave them alone. I oppose abortion on the grounds that it is killing and I haven’t made up my mind on acupuncture. How do you stand?”

  “Jeez, them’s all good things. I agree with you. You sure are smart.”

  “I read a lot,” Maria offered by way of explanation. “Mr. Lou, could I ask you a favor?”

  “What?” he asked suspiciously.

  “You did say I wasn’t kidnapped, didn’t you?” At his nod, she continued. “Well, if I’m not kidnapped, could I make a phone call? Just to let the lady I stay with go buy her rice. She needed it for supper. She’ll be waiting for it. That’s not nice to make someone wait for you. Don’t you agree?”

  “Well, yeah,” Lou frowned. “But somehow I don’t think it’s too good an idea. Eugene might get mad—in fact, I know he will.”

  Maria, holding her hands in her lap, pinched the inside of her thigh, her eyes smarting with tears as she looked at Lou. “I thought you might let me, Mr. Lou,” she said tearfully.

  Lou looked at the wet eyes and his heart melted. “Well, if you promise not to tell Eugene. Just for a minute. Promise.”

  “Oh, I promise.” She raced to the rickety table and was about to pick up the phone when it shrilled, making her jump. Lou also jumped. “Must be Eugene; he’s the only one who ever calls me. Him and the funeral parlor.” Hesitantly, he picked up the phone and listened.

  “Lou, it’s Eugene. How’s the ki
d?”

  “She’s fine. Don’t you trust me?”

  “Did you tie her up?”

  “Not yet; we wuz talking. She’s OK, Eugene; she promised not to try and get away.”

  “And you believe her,” Eugene demanded. “Tie up that damn kid before I wring your stupid neck. You big jerk. Do I have to do all your thinking? At the rate you’re going, we’ll both end up in jail.”

  “Why should I land in jail? I didn’t do nothing.”

  “In case you aren’t aware of it, kidnapping is a federal offense.”

  “You said we just borrowed her ’cause she’s a relative. You better stop lying to me Eugene. I don’t like it no more.”

  “For Christ’s sake!” Eugene barked. “It’s that kid; she’s got to you. You stupid jerk. Tie her up right away and I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”

  Lou lowered the receiver and narrowed his eyes. “He called me ‘stupid jerk,’” he said almost pitifully.

  Maria quirked her mouth. “What does he know? Don’t listen to him. He probably voted for Clinton, too.”

  Dani looked at the clock apprehensively. It was an hour since Maria had gone to the store. She should have been back by now. Perhaps she was talking to the doorman about the Yankees. She waited a few minutes longer and risked a glance out the bedroom window. The beat-up Mustang was gone. Her skin prickled in alarm as she picked up the phone and dialed the doorman in the downstairs lobby.

  “Joe, this is Dani Arnold. Have you seen the little girl who’s staying with me?”

  “Not for a while. Not since the two of you left this morning.” Dani hung up and walked back to the kitchen. Perhaps she had stopped to play with Steve Myers on the first floor.

  Not giving herself time to reconsider, Dani reached for a sweater and rode the elevator to the ground floor and literally raced for the deli on the corner.

  “Mr. Salerno, did you see the little girl who’s staying with me? I sent her for a box of rice.”