by DJ Dalasta
Part two to free, respond with me
He tried taking just the first letters or the last, converting the words to numbers and thinking of any well known text that could have used such language. But nothing came to him. This may be one of those codes that doesn’t break, he thought sadly.
So, he resorted to taking the words at face value. He came to the Boston State House, the North West corner, the first one and he’d be here at noon. Maybe the poem would fall in place once he was here. He walked around the outside, pausing at the Northwest corner. He inspected the grounds, the brick, but decided he couldn’t hope for much as the building would have been restored after so many years. If anything had been hidden on the outside, it would have been lost by now.
He stepped inside the museum and started poking around. Nobody stopped him or asked to help. He blended in with the few tourists checking out this stop on the so call freedom trail. There was a cool looking spiral staircase that led up to the second floor, the banister was polished wood while the rest stood out in brilliant white paint.
Rock wasn’t allowed to go upstairs but poked around on the first level. He suddenly realized that is what the word ‘first’ may be referring to. He always believed that things start falling into place when you get to a location. He looked around for over an hour but nothing else popped out and he decided to grab something to eat before coming back at noon.
When the clock struck twelve, Rock was standing outside at the Northwest corner. He was hoping that something would come to him. But nothing did. Ten minutes passed and then thirty. Soon he was sweating in the mid-day heat and had no clue what he was hoping for.
Frustrated, Rock decided to find some clothes and lodging for the evening. He walked the streets, found suitable clothes for outrageous prices, located a decent motel and checked in. He turned on the television and thought about calling Sayla or Anna, but that’s exactly what they wanted him to do. Somehow, he didn’t feel right about it and resisted the temptation. He might try them in a few days. He didn’t want to play into the Cooper’s hands this early.
An advertisement roared at him from the television set. It talked about a concert series in the park coming on the 1st of August, a full week from today. Then it came to him. “The first,” he said aloud, “first of the month, noon.” He smiled and felt his skin tingle as blood rushed quickly through his body. “We have a location and we have a time. That’s definitely a start.”
Chapter 20
Knoxville, July 2012