Moonliner: No Stone Unturned

Home > Other > Moonliner: No Stone Unturned > Page 14
Moonliner: No Stone Unturned Page 14

by Hanzel, Donald


  “I’m sorry I mentioned the future guy tonight,” Kendra tells Beau.

  “Oh, no,” Beau replies; “don’t worry about it. I’m just glad you didn’t mention the coin. Rich, being the skeptic he is, would think I’m nuts for giving the matter any attention at all.”

  “Well, I won’t mention it again,” Kendra says.

  “It’s over anyway,” Beaus says; “as far as I am concerned. He doesn’t know who we are and I’m not going back to Vancouver to leave any more coins under any stones.”

  Once home, Beau kicks off his shoes and heads for the sofa. There, he leans back and stretches his legs out in front of the coffee table. He grabs the TV remotes but tosses it aside before turning the TV on. He’s too tired to watch the tube. Kendra comes into the living room and sits beside him.

  “I liked the highlights in Amber’s hair,” Kendra says in a soft voice; “I’m thinking about getting highlights too. What do you think?” she asks Beau.

  “Highlights sound beautiful,” he mumbles, barely awake.

  “But which do you prefer?” she asks; “highlights or no highlights?”

  “I will think you are beautiful if you get them, and I will think you’re beautiful if you don’t. It’s a win-win,” Beau answers, trying to side-step a no win situation.

  “I’m happy you think I’m beautiful,” Kendra replies after a few minutes of sitting silently in the dark; “and I like it when you tell me, but sometimes I want to hear what you really think. I want you to pay attention to my hair long enough to give me an honest answer. That’s all,” she tells him.

  The room stays silent. Kendra looks over at Beau but he’s fallen fast asleep. She’s been talking to herself. She smiles at him and kisses his forehead before covering him with a blanket. She turns the TV on and switches to an ambient music channel. She turns the volume down low and sits thinking in the dark.

  Moonliner 4:05

  Kendra wakes to natural light in their bedroom. It’s clearly getting lighter earlier. She slides out of bed without waking Beau and tiptoes into the kitchen to put some coffee on. She opens the kitchen window just a little to let some fresh air into the room. The rain is back but Kendra welcomes it. The two-day warming trend has left the air a little dryer, making this the first rain she’s been able to smell all year. The Azalea in their back yard is full of pink buds bursting at their seams; they’ll open any day. Enjoying the morning silence, Kendra grabs her IPAD and starts reading facebook posts.

  The cooler air eventually circulates into the bedroom, carrying a subtle hint of expresso. Beau smells it but feels like hell. It’s not only the beers but the general fatigue he’s been under. Last night was good for him to get out and take his mind off of things, but it can sometimes leave a heavier hangover than alcohol when rest catches up with a busy mind. Beau is drained of energy.

  After another fifteen minutes of drifting in and out of sleep, he rolls out of bed and into the kitchen, where he helps himself to a cup of Kendra’s coffee, grabs his IPHONE, sits at the table, and begins reading his email.

  “I barely remember going into the bedroom last night,” Beau says.

  “I had to wake you on the sofa. Your head was pushed sideways against the armrest,” Kendra replies.

  “I am seriously tired today,” Beau tells her.

  “Well, it’s no wonder. You didn’t really ever rest after your Vancouver trip,” she replies. “It ate up most of your weekend and then you jumped right back into your job search when you got back.”

  “And I had two too many last night,” Beau adds; “those were five-percenters.”

  Kendra grabs the remote, turns the TV on and starts flipping through channels. She watches a cooking show for a few minutes, but quickly grows bored with it. She scrolls through the menu to look for anything interesting, but her efforts are in vain and she soon gives up the search. She tosses the remote to Beau who turns to a twenty-four hour news channel, then mutes the TV but leaves the video broadcast on in the background.

  Kendra gets up and goes into the bathroom to run a bath. Beau can feel a headache seeding and starts to close his eyes, again drifting into sleep. His eyes open several seconds later, heavily, to images of Japan flashing across his TV. Then a map accentuating Kyushu Island is displayed. More asleep than awake, it takes Beau several seconds to process the silent news report. He laughs to himself, thinking of the future guy’s transmission and the earthquake predicted in Kyushu. His eyes then spring wide open; an earthquake in Kyushu. He grabs the remote and restores the volume.

  “A magnitude six point three earthquake struck off the coast of Japan’s Kyushu Island earlier today. There have been reports of some minor structural damage, but no deaths or injuries thus far have been reported.”

  Beau gets up from the sofa and begins searching the room for his memo recorder. Excited by the thought that the future guy could have one right, he looks all around the room. His head begins to throb in pain, forcing him to pause, slow down, and think; this isn’t worth getting excited over. Earthquakes happen in Japan all the time.

  “What the hell was the magnitude mentioned?” Beau asks himself, looking the room over for the recorder. He finally spots it on the coffee table. He finds Cedric’s message and scans through it until he gets to the part about the earthquake in Kyushu.

  “…fire. The next day, March 13th, a 6.3 magnitude earthquake will occur near Japan’s Kyushu Island. Three days later, on the 16th, a 6.7 will strike off the coast of Chile, triggering tsunami warnings. The tsunami will never come. The next day, president Obama will announce sanctions on Russia over the Crimean crisis. And if that’s all too soon, on March 26th, the first-known ringed asteroid will be discovered; 10199 Chariklo circling the sun between the orbits of Saturn and Uranus. If you find this to be more convincing, please leave…” the message plays.

  “He’s right!” Beau yells, shutting the recorder off.

  Kendra emerges from the bathroom in a robe with her hair tied up in a bath towel.

  “I’m sorry,” she says to Beau; “what did you say?”

  “He’s right,” Beau answers.

  “Did you get a job offer?” Kendra asks.

  “No, the future guy,” Beau responds; “he’s right.”

  “The future guy? Why? What did he say?” Kendra asks.

  “He accurately predicted this earthquake in Japan,” Bea tells her; “including the magnitude.”

  “Wow, that is impressive,” Kendra says, still not buying into it.

  “Wait a minute!” Beau says in deep thought; “he mentioned the next day. And what fire was he talking about?”

  With Kendra still standing by him in her bathrobe looking less patient by the minute, Beau once again plays the message on his memo recorder, scanning through the very beginning and stopping at a perfect point to capture the earlier prediction.

  “…will unfortunately take over a year to find any remnant of, and years to solve. March 12th, 350 buildings in San Francisco’s Mission Bay neighborhood will be evacuated due to a massive fire. The next day, March 13th, a 6.3 magnitude earthquake will occur near Japan’s Kyushu Island. Three days later, on the 16th, a 6.7 will strike off the coast of Chile, triggering tsunami warnings. The tsunami will never come,” the message plays.

  “I didn’t see any news about a fire in San Francisco yesterday, did you?” Beau ask.

  “No, but we were pretty busy for most of it,” Kendra says.

  The two look at each other in slight disbelief. Could there have been a fire in San Francisco a day earlier? Laughing lightly, Kendra grabs her IPAD and starts scanning news sites for any story on a San Francisco fire. As she’s typing ‘San Francisco fire’ into google, images of San Francisco appear on their TV. Sure enough, people are filling the streets after being evacuated from buildings.

  “You might wanna take a look at this,” Beau tells Kendra. She looks up at the TV.

  After watching the full follow up report on the San Francisco fire, they listen once more
to Cedric’s message. In awe as the heavy reality starts to sink in, the two sit silently in the aftershock of the realization.

  “What year is that message from?” Kendra asks Beau, finally breaking the silence.

  “Twenty sixty-nine,” he answers; “it would appear we have a friend in the year twenty sixty-nine.”

  “It’s like he knows who we are,” Kendra says somewhat slack-jawed.

  “He certainly knows exactly when we are,” Beau responds with a very faraway look in his eyes.

  “This couldn’t be real,” Kendra says; “none of this seems real right now. Is it possible that he somehow heard the news before we did?” she asks Beau, still trying to sort it out.

  “No, that doesn’t seem possible,” Beau answers; “we got his message hours before even the first prediction occurred. To predict the fire, evacuations, and the earthquake, all perfectly accurately is well beyond improbable.”

  “This isn’t real,” Kendra says again; “this has to be some kind of hoax or prank.”

  “If so, it would have to be pretty elaborate,” Beau says; “to include multiple, national news sources.”

  “Maybe we’re on a game show,” Kendra suggests.

  “Or maybe we got two messages from the year 2069,” Beau adds; “It now seems to be our most rational explanation.”

  “It just doesn’t seem possible. It can’t be real,” Kendra repeats.

  “And here you thought I was the skeptic,” Beau says with a brief chuckle to lighten to mood.

  “What should we do?” Kendra asks.

  “Let’s wait a few days to see if the next few predictions also play out,” Beau answers; “if they’re accurate, we should return to the stone and leave a more detailed message, like he asked.”

  The two of them sit silently staring, allowing their brains to chew on the raw information without distraction. Real thought requires energy. Outside, the rain picks up, still falling lightly but steadily. It looks as though it’s moving back in.

  “We shouldn’t mention this to anyone yet,” Beau tells Kendra.

  “I won’t,” she replies; “but what if the Volans ask?”

  “Just tell them we haven’t heard back from the future guy,” Beau answers; “which is technically true. The Volans didn’t ask for details at dinner anyway.”

  Beau picks up his memo recorder and they listen to both of Cedric’s messages again, this time with a little more respect.

  “To think,” Beau says as the second message plays; “this guy might not even be born yet.”

  Moonliner 4:06

  Beau and Kendra sit in their living room, both looking a little frazzled from three rainy days with little sleep. Their minds have been racing since Cedric’s first few revelations came true. New doubts have arisen over the three day span; new theories, even psychological self-examinations. All logical paths, however, lead them back to Cedric’s claims being true. Beau is on board, completely convinced the messages are from the future. Kendra, however, is having the harder time ingesting the reality of the situation. She’s hanging on to the notion that some conspiracy underlies this whole thing. A new round of accurately predicted events would without doubt convince her that this future guy speaks the truth; a round of events now due.

  It’s Sunday and the rain is really coming down. There’s little incentive to leave the house. Beau has the TV on, periodically changing between news networks in anticipation of an earthquake in Chile.

  “Don’t you think we should warn somebody?” Kendra asks.

  “Who is going to listen to us?” Beau replies; “besides, we don’t know that anyone is injured or killed in the quake. It’s not that big of a quake anyway, only a six point seven.”

  “People could die,” Kendra says.

  “I thought you didn’t believe it anyway,” Beau mentions.

  “I don’t believe it,” Kendra replies; “I don’t believe an earthquake is about to happen in Chile, and that we know this from a message sent to us from the year twenty sixty-nine. This can’t be real!”

  “You believe it,” Beau says; “and so do I. We just can’t grasp it.”

  “I guess we’ll see soon enough,” Kendra says, showing that her belief is heavily dependent on the Chilean quake to verify future guy’s claims. She has a nervous look on her face, almost as if she wants this all to be a hoax. That would be easier to understand and to deal with.

  Beau turns up the TV to hear a weather report.

  “Slightly cooler weather is expected around the Puget Sound today with light rain expected throughout the day.”

  The day rolls by with no news of a quake in Chile. Beau converts a little restless energy into housework, fixing their leaking kitchen faucet and replacing the pump on their portable washing machine, all while keeping news reports on in the background. Kendra, a little less obsessed with the news, gears up and braves a drive in the rain to the supermarket.

  It is early evening when the news report breaks. Kendra is preparing dinner while Beau is working on his radios. The news comes across Beau’s shortwave radio.

  “We have a news break for you. A 7.0 magnitude earthquake has struck in the Pacific Ocean just off the coast of Chile. Officials are issuing precautionary tsunami warnings for the nation's coast,” the report announces.

  The radio then goes back to its regularly scheduled jazz program. Beau drops what he’s doing and grabs his IPHONE to search for the news. Moments later he’s reading the story online. Sure enough, a quake off the coast of Chile.

  “Kendra!” he calls out; “it happened,” as he goes into the living room and turns the TV on.

  “An earthquake in Chile?” she asks coming into the room.

  “Yes,” Beau answers; “an earthquake in Chile.”

  They sit in shock again as Beau thumbs through various news channels to find news of the quake. Within moments he finds a breaking news report with a “7.0 quake in Chile.”

  “He got the magnitude wrong,” Beau says; “I wonder why.”

  “Maybe he’s just a good psychic?” Kendra suggests; “who lives in the present.”

  “It’s the first thing he’s gotten wrong, and yet he still predicted the quake,” Beau says baffled; “the problem is most likely in his historical data.”

  Just then an update appears on TV. Beau turns up the volume.

  “We have an update to our report on the earthquake off the northern coast of Chile; The US Geological Survey is now downgrading the magnitude of the quake from 7.0 to 6.7 with only minor damage reported thus far. Tsunami warnings are still in effect.”

  “That tsunami isn’t coming,” Beau says.

  “I feel like we’re dreaming,” Kendra adds.

  “I know exactly what you mean,” Beau tells her.

  “Do you think anyone else heard his messages?” Kendra asks.

  “I don’t know,” Beau replies; “I doubt it. Remember the second message was sent to us in response for leaving the coin.”

  “So we might be the only people in the world right now who know that a message can be sent back in time,” Kendra suggests; “I feel privileged.”

  “We’ve gotta get back to the stone and leave a better message,” Beau tells her.

  “Why the rush?” Kendra asks; “Don’t we have until twenty sixty-nine?”

  “Going forward we do,” Beau answers; “but if we want the chance of hearing back from future guy again, the sooner we reply the better our odds.”

  Rain starts to batter the patio window as a wind whips through the evening. It’s odd that such a bright discovery could come during such blustery weather.

  Moonliner 4:07

  Beau stands in his local hardware store, gazing over an endless wall of PVC pipe fittings. A guy comes across the store’s sound system saying something about a limited time offer on lumber but lacking the pronunciation skills to fully convey his announcement. Beau has a question about a pipe end he’s holding, but sales attendants at this store only seem to be around when you don’
t need them.

  Then he sees it; the perfect case to leave beneath a stone. It’s a small, durable, black, plastic box with a rubber-ringed rim to ensure a tight seal. It’s perfect. Better yet, it’s on sale for $3.95. Beau grabs one and proceeds to the checkout counter.

  Driving away from the store, he turns the radio on.

  “Obama has announced sanctions on Russian officials over the heightening Crimean Crisis,” the news reporter announces.

  Beau shakes his head, having completely forgotten about this prediction in the wave of forewarnings.

  Minutes later, Beau stands in a trophy shop.

  “How much is laser engraving?” he asks the shop assistant.

  “We charge seventy-five cents per line and have twenty-seven fonts you can choose from,” the young woman working behind the counter tells him, having obviously learned the selling points of the job.

  “How much are these metal plates?” Beau asks.

  “The brushed-metal plates vary by size and thickness,” she answers.

  Beau looks through an assortment of thin metal plates designed for various awards. He takes the black box he just bought out of his pocket to compare sizes. He finds a bluish-purple, square plate that fits perfectly in the box. He shows it to the assistant and tells her he wants it laser engraved, then takes a handwritten note out of his pocket to show what he wants engraved on the plate.

 

‹ Prev