The Golden Talisman

by J. Stefan Jackson

  Dr. Mensch paused and looked at Jack intently, his eyes glowing with excitement. This only heightened the fear and horror building within Jack. He didn’t want to hear what he knew instinctively the professor was about to say. It simply wasn’t possible.

  Dr. Mensch smiled and nodded as if reading his thoughts. “This beautiful girl told me to tell the young gentleman for whom her message was expressly intended, that she misses him terribly...that she needs him,” he said. “She will do anything that’s necessary to once again play a major role in his life. Surely you already know this message is for you, Jack!”

  A bead of sweat began to form along Jack’s hairline, and as his heart raced and his palms grew clammy, he thought for sure he would pass out and join the professor as a patient in the very same hospital.

  “So, she is real! I see it written all over your face. This ‘Genovene’ is real after all!” Dr. Mensch eyed Jack intently again as he waited for him to officially confirm this statement. Jack felt a sudden urge to do just that, to do it in such a way that would warn the professor about the deceitful nature of Genovene. But when he tried to speak, he couldn’t. The mere shock of what he had just been told left his tongue thick and heavy, while his throat closed to where he could only cough nervously.

  “Do you need a drink of something?” the professor offered. “I certainly didn’t wish to upset you with this information. I suppose you’ve enjoyed an intimate relationship of some sort with her, based upon your reaction. She’s definitely—how do you say down here in the south? Ah, yes. She’s definitely quite a peach, eh?”

  Jack continued to cough and struggle to catch his breath, and he allowed the professor to give him a drink from a glass of water sitting on his nightstand.

  “Perhaps you are upset at the news I may not be here among the living much longer. Is that it?”

  As this was partly correct, Jack nodded a positive response while he worked to regain control of himself.

  “I’ve lived a good life, which for the most part is without regrets. Whatever I would’ve looked forward to exploring during my final years on earth would likely be prevented anyway. Can you imagine what those who did this to me would do if they were presented another opportunity?” He lifted his trembling hands to point them to his face once more. “But why fret? Genovene has promised to make it worth my while to leave early. She has even gone so far as to assure me that my research will not be lost or forgotten. And, now you have the necessary keys, just as she told me you did. Jack, you are the one who will finish my work.”

  The professor paused again, casting a wary glance behind Jack, which made him look over his shoulder as well. As far as he could tell, no one else was listening nearby. In fact, the only distraction he could detect was the on-duty nurses’ footsteps echoing in the hallway as they made their evening rounds several doors away from Dr. Mensch’s room.

  “It’s time for you to go, my young friend,” said the professor. “Remember what I’ve told you and don’t forget the address, ‘1016 South Queens Court’.”

  “I won’t forget. I promise,” said Jack, looking back over his shoulder to the empty doorway. What did Dr. Mensch sense that he couldn’t? It made him uneasy, but he didn’t want to further upset this man whom he admired so much. “Get some rest, Doc. I’ll be by to see you again real soon—maybe tomorrow.” He stood up to leave, smiling down at the professor who raised his hand to wave goodbye.

  “1016 South Queens Court

  ,” Dr. Mensch reminded him.

  “Don’t worry, Doc, I’ve got it,” said Jack. He delivered a grin and wink he thought would even make his grandfather proud, and then turned to leave the room. “1016 South Queens Court

  ,” he whispered to himself as he walked through the doorway and on down the hallway past the nurse’s station, on his way to the elevator...

  Jack shook himself from the trance he was under. He looked down at his left hand and was shocked to find he was bleeding. He had gripped the keys so tightly that the skeleton key’s sharp point had pierced the skin on his palm. He searched throughout the truck’s cab for something suitable to treat the wound with, settling for an old handkerchief when the only alternatives were the map or his T-shirt. Jack wrapped his hand and was tying the ends of the handkerchief when Jeremy opened the driver’s side door and climbed back into the truck. Jeremy immediately noticed the makeshift bandage on Jack’s wounded hand.

  “What in the hell happened to you?” Jeremy asked lightheartedly, but with a look that let Jack know he was concerned about the injury. He started the engine and then pulled out of the parking lot. “Man, I tell you, little brother. I can’t leave you alone for long, can I? You’ve got a knack for finding your way into mischief, one way of another—that’s for goddamn sure!” He smiled and gave Jack a hearty slap on the shoulder before turning his attention to the road. A moment later, they resumed their journey north on I-81.

  “It’ll be all right,” said Jack. “Is Grandpa okay? What did he have to say about our situation?”

  “Well, he’s fine. He’s been worried sick about us, not knowing where we disappeared to and all. As far as our abduction’s concerned, I told him pretty much everything that’s happened so far. And, I told him to keep a good perspective on things when the shit hits the fan later this morning. I figure all we can bank on at this point is that we’ve got a significant head start.”

  “Where are you planning to take us, Jeremy?”

  “Canada,” he replied, and Jack knew he was dead serious about this. He probably knew their destination the very instant he escaped Agent Cochran’s grasp. “Grandpa and I developed a special code for an occasion such as this long ago,” he continued. “So, I told him you and I were going to chill out with a couple of bottles of Cuervo Gold before we decided what to do next. That told him we were on our way north to Canada without tipping off anybody who might be listening in on his line, and you’ve got to believe the wiretaps are active at his place these days. It’s the opposite of what they’d expect, since Cuervo Gold comes from Mexico. If I’d told him we were planning on sipping a few bottles of Moosehead, he’d have known that Mexico was our destination, instead of Canada. I’d say it’s pretty cool that after five years we finally got to use this idea. Thank God he hadn’t forgotten about it!”

  Jeremy glanced briefly at his younger brother and then returned his attention to the road before them. “So, what do you think, Jackie? I realize we’ll have some major challenges getting through the guard patrols along the Canadian border, but we’ll figure out a plan to deal with that shit, I’m sure. Are you ready to hole-up for a while in the real land of ‘sky-blue waters’? Not to mention, I’ll bet we’ll run across some lovely French-speaking darlings as well, if we make it far enough north. How about it, bro?”

  Jack didn’t immediately answer him. Instead, he focused his attention on his throbbing left palm and the three keys in his right hand. Jeremy looked over at him and Jack felt the weight of his brother’s stare grow heavy upon him. He finally turned to face him.

  “Well?”

  “I think it’s a bad idea, Jeremy, going to Canada. A very bad idea,” said Jack. “We need to go home. We need to go back to Tuscaloosa, and we need to do that now!”

  “What? Are you on crack??” Jeremy pulled the truck over to the shoulder of the highway and immediately slammed on the brakes. A cloud of dust quickly surrounded the vehicle in the pre-dawn light. “What in the hell are you thinking??” he demanded furiously.

  Jack was certain the response and the look of puzzled horror to go along with it wouldn’t have been any different had he told his brother that he underwent a recent sex change operation, and then pulled his pants down to prove it. Rather than being drawn further into an all-out argument, he simply showed him the keys in his right hand.

  “So?” said Jeremy. “What the fuck do those have to do with anything?”

  “They belonged to Oscar.”

  “What?? Where in the hell did you get them fr
om?”

  “From him,” Jack explained. “He gave them to me the night he died. Actually, that’s not exactly true, as I originally got them when I found him lying on his living room floor. When I tried to give them back to him the last time I saw him alive, in the hospital, he made me keep them. They go to an address near school, and he told me I needed to finish something he was working on.”

  “Why ‘you’ of all people?” Jeremy mused aloud, more from puzzlement over all that had recently happened, and not as an insult directed at his younger brother.

  “I don’t know for sure,” Jack replied, unable to entirely mask the wound he just received from Jeremy. “I believe it has something to do with Genovene. He told me she came to him in a dream and foretold his death. Did you ever tell him anything about her?”

  “No. Never,” said Jeremy, the angry look on his face melting quickly into one of somber bewilderment. Jack went on to explain all that Dr. Mensch told him. Then, he went on to tell his brother everything Agent McNamee had shared with him as well, including the mysterious package the professor supposedly received from overseas and the unusual events recently taking place around the world.

  Once he finished explaining everything, they both sat in silence: Jeremy trying to decide on what they should do next, while Jack waited patiently for that decision to be made known to him. Jeremy looked out toward the open road before them, as if picturing what it would be like if they were to reach the other side of the Canadian border safely. A moment later, he turned toward his brother with a sly smile on his face.

  “You know, Jackie, to go back home to Tuscaloosa would be nuts,” he told him. “Actually, I believe the word ‘asinine’ is a better way to put it. But for some goddamned reason, I’m thinking we should do it anyway. Perhaps it’s because of how much Oscar meant to me. He was like a father to me...the father I never knew. Or, it could be the intrigue I’ve always felt about Genovene and her unique place in history—at least our family’s history. Hell, it could be both of these reasons, to be honest. Regardless, have you ever known me to turn down an invitation to a good party, or back down from a necessary fight?”

  “No, I can’t say I have,” said Jack, chuckling. Jeremy chuckled along with him, and Jack could tell by his ardent eyes it was no longer a question as to whether or not they were going home. It was strictly a question of how quickly could they do it.

  “All right, Jackie. We’ll go back home,” Jeremy told him. “You’re going to have to trust me on how we do it, though. Okay? I mean, can you bite your tongue at least until we reach Alabama?”

  “Yeah. I believe I can do that.”

  “Good. Make sure you do, because if I’m spared any unnecessary distractions, I might be able to get us home by tonight. What time have you got there, anyway?”

  “It’s five minutes past four,” said Jack, showing him the watch’s glowing digital display.

  “I think our chances of making my prediction come true are pretty damn good.” Jeremy pulled the truck back onto the highway, heading north. Jack started to say something, as he wondered why they didn’t just turn around right then and head south. Jeremy immediately gave him a look that said ‘Just trust me, damn it!’.

  Jack closed his mouth and settled back against the bench seat. Before long, they reached the residential areas of Hagerstown and were coming up on a large apartment community called ‘Brook Meadows’. As it wasn’t gated, Jeremy pulled into the apartment complex and drove the truck around to its eastern section, parking the vehicle near a large trash bin.

  “Wait here,” he told Jack as he cut the engine. An avalanche of ideas poured through Jack’s mind as to what his brother was up to, but he realized it was pointless to fret about anything at this point. After Jeremy left the truck, he didn’t return for nearly twenty minutes. When he did, he was driving a 2004 model Toyota Camry.

  He motioned for Jack to help him quickly unload their necessary supplies from the truck’s cab, which consisted only of the weapons, flashlight, and map, and bring them to the Camry. Less than five minutes later, they were back on I-81. Only this time, they headed south.

  The burgundy sedan was quite plush, with all of the modern comforts the brothers were normally accustomed to. At least for the time being, their journey would be quicker and much more pleasurable, as their present mode of transportation wasn’t likely to shake and convulse at speeds over sixty-five miles per hour. The digital clock in the Camry’s dashboard currently read 4:41 am

  When they reached the I-40 overpass, Jeremy exited onto it, heading east toward Frederich, Maryland. Once again, Jack could only wonder why his brother did this. Yet, he succeeded in keeping his mouth shut, allowing Jeremy’s plan to cleanly unfold.

  Jeremy must have figured Jack’s thoughts were full of questions as to where in the hell he was taking them, for he suddenly decided to tell him. “We’re heading east, as obviously you’ve noticed by now. It may seem a bit risky, but we’re on our way back to D.C. via I-270. ‘Back into the hornet’s nest’, I’ll bet you’re thinking. There’s a definite method to this madness, and I’m betting we’re at least a step ahead of whoever’s looking for us.

  “I’m thinking once we get through D.C., we’ll get onto I-95 and take it south through Richmond. After that we should be able to get onto I-85. At least, that’s what I gathered we could do when I looked at the map earlier. You can confirm it if you’d like.”

  Jack took the tiny atlas and opened it to the state map of Virginia. “Yeah, it does, Jeremy,” he confirmed. “It looks like we’ll reach I-85 near the city of Petersburg.”

  “All right then,” Jeremy continued. “Once we’re on I-85, it should be a straight shot through North and South Carolina, all the way down to Atlanta. From there, we’ll take I-20 into Alabama and straight home to Tuscaloosa.”

  “‘Sounds like a good plan to me,” Jack told him. He closed the atlas and laid it down between their seats. “I just hope it works out to where we get home in one piece.”

  “Me too, Jackie. Me too.”

  They pulled onto I-270 south around 5:30am, just as an array of brilliant pink, blue, and orange colors spread across the sky above them from the east. Within the hour, they passed through the nation’s capital and were well on their way to Richmond. Jack was finally able to relax once they safely cleared the city limits.

  They raced through Richmond and decided to pull over for breakfast once they neared Petersburg. Jeremy found a Denny’s just off the highway and sent Jack inside to grab a couple of breakfasts to go. He first gave him the Peterbilt ball cap to wear again, pulling down the cap’s bill to partially conceal Jack’s eyes. Then, he gave him enough cash to pay for their food.

  It was just past 7:30 am when Jack entered the crowded restaurant. The first thing he noticed was the television set above the cashier booth. The local news was on with a special national report that had interrupted whatever program was previously in progress. He approached the hostess stand and was in the process of placing his order, when the female reporter on the television began giving details of a brutal multiple homicide involving five federal agents near Arlington, Virginia. Everyone in the immediate area of the television set turned their attention toward the reporter, as the striking young woman delivered the details of the crime.

  According to the report, the police revealed that four of the five agents had been shot more than once, with all five receiving fatal wounds to the head. Most disturbing, said the pretty woman, was the fact one of the slain agents had been stuffed into the trunk of his own sedan, which was later abandoned by the two suspects some thirty miles north of the original crime scene.

  “Those bastards,” Jack whispered to himself, scarcely believing the FBI or police had gone to the trouble of making sure he and his brother seemed like the most vicious rogues possible. Why else would they transfer Agent McNamee’s corpse to the other sedan he and Jeremy had taken and later abandoned? Unless, of course, they figured someone might learn the actual truth of what ha
ppened and blow a whistle on the government’s covert operation near Manassas Park.

  The reporter went on to identify the assailants as ‘twenty-five-year-old Jeremy Kenney and his twenty-one-year-old brother, Jack Kenney’. Cold sweat formed between Jack’s shoulder blades and soon trickled down his back. He tried to focus his attention like everyone else around him on the television set in order to remain unnoticed.”Your order should be ready in just a few minutes, sir,” the hostess advised, tugging on his arm to distract his attention from the driver’s license photos of he and his brother plastered right then across the television screen. Jack didn’t immediately hear her, but when he realized she was talking to him, he allowed her to direct him over to a nearby wooden bench.

  Just as he sat down, he heard the reporter state the authorities investigating this terrible crime believed the Kenney brothers were heading north to Canada. Jack felt somewhat relieved at this news, until the woman also advised the FBI had already posted a ‘one hundred and fifty thousand dollar reward for any information leading to the capture of these dangerous fugitives’.

  At that moment, it seemed like all eyes in the restaurant were upon him. He instinctively looked down and focused his gaze upon his feet. Once he drew enough courage to carefully look up from under the bill of his cap, he found that only one or two patrons were actually looking in his direction, perhaps not even noticing the young man seated near the restrooms.

  “...In other news, the death toll from the F-5 tornado that struck near Meridian, Mississippi last night has risen to 85 confirmed, with another 210 people still unaccounted for. Authorities from that area are now stating the earlier reports, which depicted the deadly twister as an odd anomaly that seemed to have a golden glow and that one witness described as a ‘golden twisting tower of destruction!’, were extremely exaggerated. Regardless, the staggering amount of victims already confirmed from the tornado’s path make it the worst natural tragedy to hit the area since the early 1900’s. It is the second major weather disaster to hit the state of Mississippi since Hurricane Katrina decimated Gulfport and Biloxi less than two years ago...”