He shivered as he stepped outside despite the morning heat. He loaded his groceries into his sedan and then started the vehicle. He didn’t put it in drive right away though. He sat quietly staring ahead searching for something.
“Predatory, that’s the word that I’m looking for.”
He had met a few men in his life that deserved that adjective. Tuesday made them seem like choir boys. Finally he put the car in drive and left with only an occasional glance back in the mirror.
The drive back was uneventful except for one thing. Shortly after leaving town he saw a small mobile home on his right. He had almost passed it when he noticed the owner sitting out front, drinking a beer, and waving at traffic. It was a odd wave though. He would raise his index finger, wave it in a circle, and then point to each driver as they drove by. Judging from the excessive amount of purple and gold flags, and paraphernalia, he was also an avid LSU fan. A quick glance showed him to be in his early fifties, slightly graying hair, moustache, with an ample beer belly.
“What an odd place I’ve found”, he thought as drove on home.
When he arrived home he puttered around the kitchen, casually deciding where to put everything. It struck him how new this place was. New at least in the sense that he had no memories here. His cologne hadn’t soaked into the bathroom cabinet yet. His wife’s laughter didn’t still resonate from the wood paneling.
Sadness welled up in his throat, but it was a sadness tinged with a small measure of hope. Any new house holds the potential to be filled with light, laughter, love, and all the great things of the human experience. Even for a man like he who was into his final act.
***
“Where do you want these books to go” Helen asked.
“Huh” Tommy said while looking up from his own box. “Oh, just over on that shelf. I’ll sort them out later.”
“Oh, I’m pretty sure I can sort books” Helen replied with a laugh.
Tommy’s cheeks flushed and he turned away quickly. He could still hear her giggling however. He did his best to ignore her laughter.
“My my. You sure are an eclectic reader.”
“But of course” he replied with a smile.
“An eclectic reader with marvelous blue eyes.”
“And you madam, are a librarian with a decidedly flirty nature.”
Helen put her hand to her chest. Mouth frowning she replied “Me? Flirty? Why I have never….”
Her face cracked and she began laughing again. “Ok, maybe I have been accused of that before. Are you complaining?
“Not at all ma’am. Not at all.”
“Good. Now, how about I finish organizing these while you order us a pizza?
“Yes ma’am. Pepperoni or sausage?”
“Surprise me.”
***
“I’m curious about something” Tommy said. As he spoke he gestured with a slice of pepperoni that waved limply in the air.
“Ask away” Helen mumbled around a mouthful of her own pizza.
“I can’t figure it out. We have missing books about stars and Norse gods. We have a thousand year old Indian mound. And we have a missing retired agent.”
“That is the mystery” Helen replied. “Not to mention strange dreams and phantom voices.”
“Well, something had to catch Stephens’s attention. He didn’t just hop up and start connecting random dots into such a strange tapestry. What was the impetuous? Did he say anything to you that might hint at why he was digging in the first place?”
“I’m not really sure. He just said that he had started to notice signs. I think he was having bad dreams as well but he wouldn’t talk about them. I just know he was having trouble sleeping towards the end.”
“When are you meeting with that professor friend of yours?”
“Tomorrow morning. I took a little time off from work. Would you like to come with me?”
“I’d like that very much” he replied.
“Then I’ll pick you up in the morning. Now, we have an office to finish. Up and at em!”
Tommy groaned and felt his knees pop as he stood back up. “Ok, let’s get this done.”
Day 8: Wednesday
His phone rang early the next morning around 8:00. “Hello” he answered.
“Hey there hot stuff” was the reply followed by a giggle.
“Better save your hey you might have a cow someday” he quipped back. “Are we still on for a trip to the University today?”
“Sadly I have a board meeting that I have to attend” Helen said. “I can’t go. But, if you’d like to go ahead I’ll call my friend and let him know that you’ll still be there.”
He sighed. “I guess that would be best. I just know I’m going to get lost though.”
Helen’s laughter rang through the receiver. “Don’t worry my dear. Just go to Fihiol Hall. Office 202. Ask for Professor Nelson. He’ll be expecting you.”
“I better write this down.”
***
Despite himself he managed to find his way without getting lost. He pulled his car into visitor parking and walked the few blocks to Fihiol Hall. A quick glance at the directory and a short elevator trip later he was standing in front of office 202. He knocked on the door.
“Come in” came the reply.
He opened the door and poked his head in. “I was looking for Professor Nelson.”
“Come in come in. You must be Agent McCain.”
Tommy bit off his reply and simply said “Thank you for meeting with me professor”
As he spoke he leaned across the desk to shake Professor Nelson’s hand. Or at least tried to lean across the desk. It was so covered with books and stacks of tests that he was afraid he would cause an avalanche.
“Not a problem” Nelson responded breathily. Silently Tommy couldn’t help but to laugh. Nelson was the stereotypical professor. Shirt half un-tucked. Tie askew. Glasses sliding down. Chalk dusted over his ample belly. Sweat beaded on his forehead.
“Mrs. Schuler tells me that you want to know about Indian mounds and myths.”
“That’s right. I’m looking into the disappearance of a former partner of mine. Before he went missing he was researching something involving Indian mounds, Norse mythology and banned books about astrology.”
Nelson whistled between his teeth. “That’s a jumble there. I’ll see what I can do for you.”
“Any help you can give would be..”
Nelson cut him off saying “Of course Norse mythology isn’t my specialty. Neither is astrology. No, I’m just good with Indians ya see.”
As he was talking he leaned back in his seat and propped his feet up on his desk knocking off a stack of papers as he did. He didn’t seem to notice. He crossed his hands over his stomach and looked up at the ceiling.
“As I said, any help would be…”
“There were a lot of different peoples who lived around these parts over the years ya see” Nelson said. Tommy smiled ruefully at the interruptions.
“I’m mostly interested in the people who built the mounds.”
“Course you’re probably just interested in whoever built them there mounds.”
Tommy sighed out loud. Nelson didn’t notice. He kept right on talking.
“Course those are the peoples we know the least about. Mound builders is what we call them ya see. But they didn’t exactly write much down. Still, I know a thing or three about them. Didja know that those mounds are older than the pyramids?”
“I didn’t know that.”
“Older than Methuselah. Well, almost. Nobody is quite sure what they were used for ya see. Did they live there? Did they use it for hunting parties? Me, I subscribe to the belief that they were religious sites.”
“Do we know anything about…”
“Course we don’t know much about their religion. Poverty Point is on an East to West axis which leads me to believe they worshiped the sun but the mounds out in New Damascus have the whole bird, nature vibe going.”
“Do you have any idea…”
“Me personally, I think that it started out as simple sun worship but some other beliefs came along and influenced it. We start seeing a lot more bird motifs especially Ravens. And coyotes. Coyotes are interlopers and tricksters ya see.”
Tommy sat tapping his foot waiting for Nelson to stop for air. When he finally did he stood up quickly thrusting out his hand.
“Well, thank you for meeting with me. You’ve been most helpful.”
Nelson sat up frowning confusedly. He reached out his own hand to shake Tommy’s. In the process another stack of papers went sliding off of his desk.
“I hope ya got something that could be useful.”
“Oh, I learned a great deal. I just need to get home to process it all ya see.”
Day 9: Thursday: Plane ride
He woke Thursday morning to a bright, hot, morning that was already hazy with humidity. He lay there a moment staring at his ceiling. For some reason his heart was racing and he could feel the quiver a dose of adrenaline brought on. He felt like something was about to happen and he was terrified by it for some reason. It was the same electric feeling you got right before a storm hit. After a minute or so he forced his fears aside and climbed out of bed.
He shuffled down the hall to the kitchen, one hand on the wall to help maintain balance. This was a habit so long practiced and ingrained that he was no longer aware that he did it. He put on a pot of coffee out of long habit. When he was sitting at the table with a mug in hand he found that he was much calmer and could think more clearly. He spent time simply rolling the fear around, looking at it from all angles, and trying to find the catalyst for it. At last he gave up, finished his coffee, and began getting ready for the day.
After breakfast and a quick shower he found himself feeling restless. He tried to read for a while, but when that didn’t work he put in a movie. Finally he gave in to the urge to move, collected his keys and wallet and left his house.
It was too early to go see Lee and the library wasn’t open yet, so he settled for more coffee at McDonald’s. On the way in he bought a newspaper for something to read, however if you had asked him later what he read about he couldn’t have told you.
An hour later, when his coffee was finished and he had quit pretending to read the paper, he checked his watch and saw that the library was opening soon so he decided to head there. He disposed of his empty cup, tucked his paper under his arm, and walked out into the sticky heat.
He pulled into the parking lot of the library just minutes later. He walked inside and was greeted by a slightly dumpy, middle aged librarian with an open smile.
“Hello, are you looking for Helen?”
“Yes ma’am, I am”, he replied.
“Oh my, I’m sorry; she has a doctor’s appointment and won’t be back in town till this afternoon.”
“I’ll just catch her later then.” With that said he turned away to browse through the stacks once more to kill time.
He was early arriving at the airport, but not as early as he could have been. It was a small airstrip that provided services mostly for crop dusters and private planes for amateur aviators. There wasn’t much of a parking lot, just a graveled area hosting a few beat up work trucks. He parked beside a Dodge pickup that he thought might have been blue once upon a time. He got out of his car and shuffled over the uneven, shifting gravel surface into a dim hanger.
The hangar was shaded, but far from cool. He could feel sweat begin to bead off of his body already. Fanning his shirt away from his body he began glancing around for Lee. The first person he spotted was working underneath a small single prop plane. He walked over and called out to him. The man slid out from under the plane and stood up. And up. And up. He was a giant bear of a man with long blonde hair, massive shoulders, and not an ounce of fat. He stretched out his hand for a handshake that felt like it could have crushed Tommy’s hand with only an ounce of pressure more.
“Agent McCain, I heard that you might be coming by. I’m Thorton Smith; I’m the mechanic here at the airstrip.”
“Please, just call me Tommy”, he replied while mentally sighing in relief as this behemoth finally let go of his hand.
“Lee said you’d be by sometime today. He’s just in the” at that moment the loud whoosh of a toilet flushing came from the bathroom in the hanger.
The door opened and Lee came out tucking his shirt back in. He smiled when he saw Tommy and briskly walked over with his hand outstretched. Whereas Thorton’s hand shake felt like a vice Lee’s felt like a slightly spastic monkey was shaking his arm sporadically in all directions. Tommy just held on and resigned himself to needing Tylenol later for his poor shoulder and hand. When the enthusiastic shaking finally stopped he couldn’t resist rubbing his shoulder. Lee didn’t seem to notice and the grin on his face never faltered.
“Mornin’ Agent, I mean Tommy. You’re a little early.”
“I didn’t have anything else to do today, so I came on. It’s the curse of being old and retired.”
“Well, if you’ll give me twenty minutes or so we can go ahead and get flyin”. If you’d like some coffee we have some in the break room.”
Tommy chuckled, “You know the perfect bait for an old man like me. I’d love some coffee.”
He went to fix a cup leaving Thorton and Lee to work. The break room was typical of a business on a shoe string budget. There was a second hand couch, a table and chair set which boasted the usual worn, cracked vinyl seats, and a well-used coffee pot. He poured a cup while looking around.
The walls held several aerial shots of the airfield, the village, and various black and white pictures of planes through history. He sat down to browse through the stack of old magazines until Lee was ready to fly.
True to his word twenty minutes later they were pulling out of the hanger. Tommy glanced out the window and saw Thorton walking, no stalking, across the hanger carrying a sledgehammer in one hand. A few minutes later they were in the air.
The first part of the flight was filled with Lee’s cheerful rambling. Tommy asked a few polite questions while enjoying the view out of the window. However, the constant drone of the engine tugged at him and he quickly found his eyes beginning to shut. Not wanting to be rude he fought it at first, but he eventually gave in and fell asleep.
It might have been twenty minutes later that he felt his shoulder being gently shook and heard his name calling him awake. He blinked his eyes awake while sitting up a little straighter.
“Are we there” he asked.
“Yes sir, we’re just about to pass over. Look out your window and you’ll see it coming up.”
He did as he was directed and spotted the mounds immediately. From where they were they were little more than humps, but as they got closer the definition became more apparent and he became more impressed with each mile. When they were directly overhead he was astounded.
There were four mounds in all, one large and three smaller surrounding it. The largest was a giant bird, that much was clear, but what species was uncertain. It might have been an eagle, although it could just have easily been a raven or an owl. The other mounds were all the same. They were perfect triangles.
He was amazed at their precision and said so to Lee. He was at a loss as to what it could have meant to Stephen though. They made several passes over the mounds, but although they left him fascinated, he felt no closer to any answers.
It was a quiet flight back. Lee tried to engage him in conversation, but eventually even he gave up when Tommy wouldn’t contribute. Tommy made a brief goodbye, said his thanks, and left shortly after they landed.
He left the radio off on the drive home, the better to hear his thoughts. They refused to make sense though. They were broken by the sight of the man in the trailer who today was dressed as a member of the New Orleans Saints. He had on a jersey, complete with shoulder pads, face paint, helmet in lap, and beer in hand. Beside him was an empty lawn chair.
On impulse Tommy pulled his
car to the side of the road. Stepping out of the vehicle he raised his hand in a wave. The man raised his beer in reply and belched loudly.
“Mr. Keith” he called out.
“Yeah? That’s me. What can I do ya for?”
“I was wondering if I could ask you a few questions.”
“I was wondering when you would come ask them.”
His tone was gruff but Tommy would have sworn that he saw a twinkle in the old man’s eyes. He walked over and turned the extra chair to face Logan. He steadied himself with one hand on the arm rest as he lowered into the seat.
“Why were you expecting me?”
“Because in a town full of liars an old trickster like me is the only place to come for the truth.”
Logan leaned forward as he said this and locked eyes with Tommy. His eyes danced drunkenly in their sockets. He belched again loudly and fell back into his seat.
“I see you’re a Saints fan. I like the costume.”
“Huh? Oh, this get up. It’s nothing. I’ve worn a lot of get ups through the years. Beer?”
“No thanks. I still have to drive home.”
“Never stopped me.” He punctuated this by another belch. “Ask me your questions. I’ll tell you all lies. Well, mostly lies. It’s more fun that way.” He uttered short burst of laughter at his joke.
“How come I never see you in The Nest?”
“Same reason I don’t go into Tuesdays store! Those bastards can rot in hell.”
Tommy put up both hands in a placating manner and changed directions.
“Ok then. What do you know about my friend’s disappearance?”
“Everything and nothing.”
“Well then, tell me everything.”
“There’s nothing to say about that.” He laughed as he said this and took another swig.
“Do you always talk in riddles” Tommy asked. He clenched his fists to keep from screaming at the man.”
“As often as I can.” He paused a moment before continuing. “I know you want to find your friend. Can’t blame you there. I wish I could tell you where to look but I can’t. Whoever took him don’t report to me. Question you got to ask yourself is, are you sure that you want to find him?”
Encounters Page 4