The Chardon Chronicles: Season Two --- The Winter

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The Chardon Chronicles: Season Two --- The Winter Page 32

by Kevin Kimmich


  Chapter Six

  Robbie and Amy dropped Tracy off at Tweedy Pines, then started on a road trip. They drove south, away from the gloomy skies of Northeast Ohio.

  Robbie scratched his beard and thought out loud, “Matt and Telia were in the antique business--if you wanted, you could get that going again.”

  She scrunched up her nose. “Nah. Not my thing. I really liked the work you and I were doing.” She made gripping and grabbing motions with her hands. “Making things. Doing things. I can’t imagine sitting around selling stuff.”

  Robbie thought for a minute. “Gotcha.” His phone started buzzing repeatedly. He put it on the seat by Amy and asked, “Can you check those out?”

  She said, “A bunch of texts from Johnny.”

  Robbie said, “Go ahead and read them.”

  She laughed, “Lots of pictures. None dirty, though!”

  “Well, if Dana sends some, that can be a different story! Then she’ll claim it was an ‘accident’, then send another like five minutes later.” He laughed.

  Amy read one of the texts with a slightly mechanical flat tone, “Markets crash on JJ Gorman Terrorist attack.”

  Robbie nodded, “Yeah, I noticed that.”

  Her tone changed, she was very interested. She zoomed in on one of the images. “Hey this is really, really interesting. That statue in the woods, someone painted a big mural of the woman. Her eyes are glowing and she’s blasting this big black snaky looking thing with light. There’s a glowing man in the background of the image and he’s in a sort of weird looking cross.” She panned around and zoomed in on different parts of the mural.

  Robbie had gooseflesh. He asked, “Anything else?”

  “Oh yeah! A ton of stories. People leaving offices en masse in DC. Here’s a good one, people shredding credit card statements. Um…. People breaking out in song on the National Mall.”

  Robbie said, “Wow! That’s all very weird. Very interesting. Can you call him back and put it on speaker?”

  “Hey Robbie!” Johnny answered. “I wonder what the fuck is going on?”

  Amy said, “Hey Johnny, it’s me Amy and Perry’s here too. We’re road trippin’.”

  Johnny said, “Nice! Good to hear from you Amy, how’s it going?”

  “Good. Good! Really good.” Amy smiled.

  Robbie said, “Can you add any interpretation to what’s going on?”

  Johnny said, “Well, something really intriguing, right. So obviously there’s some kind of conflict within the Brotherhood. That drug cartel guy claimed the bank stole $2B of his cash. Seems like all out war between those two groups.”

  Robbie nodded and said, “Yup, I agree.”

  Johnny continued, “Well, the picture of the woman in the mural, that’s probably Samantha. So somehow that artist, and maybe several other people in the area actually had this same vision of her. You see that glowing man?”

  Amy said, “Yeah in the cross?”

  Johnny breathed audibly, his voice was shaking. “I think that’s Matt. The very first thing he tried was pointing the reflector at the Sun, and well, that glowing cross in the picture, that’s the reflector, The Occitan Cross. So, maybe if you point the thing at the Sun, Samantha can do something like what’s pictured in the mural.”

  Robbie whistled and said, “Wow! Holy shit! So maybe somehow they’re actually causing those things to happen.”

  “I think that’s not so far fetched.” Johnny said. “Anyway, I’ll keep you updated as the situation develops.”

  Robbie asked, “Any info on the artist of the mural?”

  Johnny said, “Yeah, he’s an African American man, his name is mentioned in the story--Daniel Jackson.”

  “Can you get his address? Maybe email him. I’d love to talk to him. We’ll start working our way toward DC, just in case it pans out.”

  “Gotcha. I’ll be in touch.”

  Robbie drummed the steering wheel and hooted. “My big brother, saving the world. That’s really amazing!”

  Amy was grinning ear to ear. “Where are we heading next?”

  Robbie said, “East, I guess. I know a couple of places we can stop along the way. Maybe that’ll give Johnny some time to find the artist.”

  After some time passed, Amy asked, “Why don’t you guys grow vegetables, corn, stuff like that?”

  “We’ve done that on a small scale before, just for our own use. My mom was an avid gardener. The main business used to be the sawmill and lumber. Now, it’s really not much of a working farm. Really more like a hobby farm.”

  “Yeah, my mom used to have a garden. I really liked that. I helped out when I was a kid.” Amy said. She put her feet up on the dashboard and scratched Perry behind the ears.

  “I have friends who own a farm that’s along the way more or less. Can you look up Peggy Martin. I’m pretty sure she’s in there.”

  Amy scrolled through Robbie’s contact list. She said, “Holy shit, Robbie. How do you remember who’s who? You have a massive list of people.”

  He laughed, “I actually don’t most of the time. If you ask me, ‘Do you know an organic gardener’? I’ll remember Peg, but otherwise, unless she calls me, I forget. Can you email her?”

  Amy said, “Sure. What should I write?”

  Robbie shrugged. “Are you around? This is Robbie Wells. I’d like to show off your farm. Be there soon.”

  Amy keyed it in and added, “Sincerely, Robbie.”

  “I hope she’s there. Even if she’s not home, we can stop by. It’s about a four hour trip through some nice countryside in south western PA.”

  Amy said, “This is really a beautiful way to live.”

 

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