Keeper: Chapter 19

Chapter 19

Jamie penned the invitation to Burr Alverson feeling a little odd with the wording. After all he didn’t normally invite people over for tea. He shook his head at the odd turns just a few days had brought. Jamie went down to the front hall and placed the invitation in the outgoing tray, asking House to deliver it as soon as possible. Before heading to the storage rooms, Jamie swung by the little closet off the kitchen where Albe had stored various useful tools. There he picked up a crow bar. It had occurred to him that if the house had been destroyed, the older journals might have been as well. If not, there was a good chance they were stored in the crates littering the floor rather than on the shelves.



With crowbar in hand, Jamie returned to the store room. To his relief all of the rooms were in the same location. He had figured that if house could hide an entire floor it wouldn’t be above shaking out the floor plan. His first action was to scan the dates of the bookshelves. The oldest of the journals was 1824.



“Old,” he said to himself, “But not quite old enough.” Jamie looked over the crates and decided to start with the ones closer to the back, reasoning they had probably been among the first added to the room. The physical action felt good. For most of the day he had been someone to be protected. He was sent out of the way and had to stand by while others took risks. It was not a feeling that sat well with him. He chuckled at the thought. For much of his life it had been the other way around. His mother was the china doll that needed to be protected and his brother always shunted work off to him. There had been many times when he had wished the positions reversed, that someone would look out for him for a change.



“Careful what you wish for,” he muttered as the nails shrieked their protest at his removal of the crate’s lid. The crate seemed filled with the type of packing material Jamie always associated with pencil sharpeners. They were thin strips of brown but no accompanying led smell greeted his nostrils. Jamie shifted the top layer around a bit, not really wanting to shove his hands into a box filled with unknown contents. No objects surfaced from the depths.





“For all I know this is where one of my relatives decided to store their knife collection,” Jamie said picking up the top layer of packing material and putting it on a second crate nearby. He peered in but couldn’t see anything. “Maybe they also kept pickled brains in here so that when the zombies came for tea there would be something to serve. “I wonder if you serve that with crackers like pate or if you carve it up like a roast?” Jamie pulled the second layer of packing from the box and peered inside. He nearly jumped out of his skin when a distorted face stared back. The packing material he had been holding scattered on the floor. Jamie took a deep breath and let it out slowly.



“I was just kidding about the zombies,” he muttered. Slowly he leaned over the crate again. Once again a distorted face greeted him. Jamie rolled his eyes at his own behavior and reached into the depths of the crate, pulling the object with him. Instead of a zombie head he found himself looking into a mirror. Half of the mirror had become distorted though, explaining difference in appearance.



“Unless I have suddenly become a lot more hideous and Del forgot to tell me.” Jamie studied the mirror for a minute, the bent shape somewhat fascinating him. It wasn’t terribly ornate and probably wouldn’t have had much of a decent reflection had it not been distorted. The frame was of a simple tarnished silver with no designs carved into it and the glass had lost some of its silver and showed the metal in places. There were age spots darting across one corner looking a little like an old man’s liver spots. Over all it was not a terribly large size, being about a foot wide and two feet tall.



“If I’m holding it right,” he mused. It was the distortion that gave Jamie pause though. It looked like it had been melted by intense heat from behind. Jamie flipped the mirror over but there was no sign of fire damage on the back. The metal was smooth with no bubbles, caving, or scorch marks. “Odd,” Jamie said. “It looks like the heat came from behind. He flipped the mirror over again so he was facing the reflective side but almost dropped it when he looked at the reflection. This time it was not his own face reflected but a landscape.



“Okay this is obviously not a normal mirror,” he said to himself trying to calm his racing heart. “I’m not sure how many more surprises I am ready for.” He let out a deep breath and looked at the image. There was something vaguely familiar about it. He blinked hard and sat down hard on one of the crates when he realized it was the front yard of Albe’s house. The view of the mountains was nearly identical to that of the view from Albe’s large bedroom windows. There were a few differences though as Jamie pulled his eyes from the back drop and into the foreground. Instead of the house he know stood in there was a large hole that looked like it had been blasted out of the earth. Smoke was still trailing in wisps from it in places. All around the hole were chunks of stone. Jamie’s eyes narrowed as he realized the rocks seemed to have been thrown away from the hole. Most of them showed signs of charring and nearly all of them were cracked and broken.



“Maybe that was the first house,” Jamie said. “I wonder if that was the basement or if the explosion caused the hole?” As he watched rain began to fall from dark clouds he had not even noticed. Somewhat shaken, although he could articulate why, Jamie put the mirror down on one of the crates and stood back up. He looked into the crate, hoping someone had thought to include some form of explanation. Nothing but packing material remained. He turned back towards the mirror. It now reflected nothing more than a distorted view of his own face. Jamie quickly placed the mirror back in the box and put the packing material over it. He put the lid to the crate over it but because of the pried up nails it would not fasten securely. Jamie looked at the sides of the box but found no markings to let him know exactly what the mirror was. He took a sharpie from his back pocket and in one corner of the box he printed in block letters, Mirror, half melted. He recapped the sharpie and tucked it back in his pocket, unsure what else to add. Somehow creepy and disturbing didn’t seem like good words to add to an inventory.



“Inventory,” he repeated out loud. “Why didn’t I think of that?” He knew the inventory listed the journals as being in Storage room three. He could also read through the list and see what else was listed in that room. Jamie glanced around at the other boxes. He felt something like a chicken but after the mirror had a slight aversion to opening any more of the crates without some form of warning. In his back pocket his cell phone began to ring. He jumped a bit before remembering he had tucked it there after his abrupt conversation with his mother. Wondering if she had decided what form her revenge would take, he pulled the phone out. To his surprise, he saw Jim’s name on his caller ID.



“Hello,” Jamie said answering the call.



“Jamie,” Jim replied, “Are you all right?” Worry was etched in the words.



“I’m fine,” Jamie replied with a frown. “We had some trouble earlier but at the moment things are calm. Why?”



“I heard about some of your earlier trouble,” Jim replied with a short bark of laughter. “I’m pretty sure everyone has at this point.”



“Really?” Jamie replied. “I wouldn’t think this sort of thing would be reported.”



“Reported?” Jim said puzzled. There was a stretch of silence and then Jim laughed. “No it wouldn’t be reported it is just gossip among a certain segment of the population. But boy are rumors flying. Did someone really try to kill you?”



“Unfortunately yes,” Jamie said. There was a moment of silence.



“I was hoping that part was mere gossip.”



“All good gossip is based on fact,” Jamie told him.



“I suppose so,” Jim said. “Wow. That does explain why things have gotten a bit stirred up.”



“Word travels fast.”

“Especially when it is the High Talbot looking for someone who tried to kill the Keeper.”



“You know about this Keeper thing then?” Jamie asked, intrigued.



“Only a little,” Jim confessed. “Our family practice specializes in those with more esoteric legal concerns.”



“Like how to legally pass as human when you aren’t?” Jamie asked with a smile.



“And how to create a secondary identity so that when you have lived a normal span you can appear to die and leave your wealth to yourself in your will.”



“I suppose that would get complicated.”



“It does go a bit beyond what I was taught in law school,” Jim said. Jamie could hear the man relax a little as he spoke. “Look I know you were planning on meeting with some of your great uncle’s friends next week but with all the rumors and things flying around some folks are getting a bit jumpy. Would you mind meeting a bit earlier?” Jamie ran a hand through his hair and let out a heavy breath.



“I suppose that would be fine. I may be having someone over for tea at 4 but other than that the day looks clear.”



“Tea?” Jim sounded amused. “Interesting. I’ll let people know. Thanks. And keep yourself safe. Call if you need anything.”



“I will,” Jamie said. The call ended and Jamie once again ran his hand through his harm, wondering what he had just agreed to. He eyed the opened crate while he tucked his phone back in his pocket. “I suppose I better tell Del to get ready for visitors.” Unsure how the brownie would feel about company, Jamie left the store room, shutting the door firmly behind him.