The huge brass gears hung in the air around him. He slowly climbed the open staircase, past weights hanging from long chains and giant vertical screws that hunched in silence waiting for their chance to turn again. With the sound of his footsteps echoing in the chamber, he crossed the platform, turned the cranks and spun the wheels at the machine’s core. A hand, trembling with excitement, removed an object from a black bag and placed it into one of five depressions at the heart of the massive machine. Immediately, the enormous instrument shuddered and burst into life. Spidery wheels spun, blackened gears engaged and the long dormant mechanism twisted and lurched to life. A crooked smile bled across his face as a hand reached out and stroked the cold metal. “Nearly there my girl… nearly there…”
Chapter 1: Uncle Zachary
Artemis Brazewell lived with his family in Charleswood a sleepy village tucked away in a far corner of the Highlands. The village had been established by merchants and traders to service a once heavily trafficked passageway through the hills, a path that had long since been abandoned in favor of a more direct route. It was a time-honored place and the well established families living there had handed homes down from generation to generation, They were a tight knit group who knew everyone’s face and name and business. Few out of town people ever made it as far north as Charleswood and most of the people living there liked it that way.
The homes and cottages of the village were as proper in nature as their occupants. Most of the buildings here were constructed of the grey stone that composed so much of the countryside giving them a mottled grey exterior. They tended to have a conservative if weary look as a result and never more so than now, in the fall, a blustery time of year when trees went bare and the skies descended to the ground in soft, damp swirls.
Artemis had a bedroom upstairs in the ramshackle old cottage he shared with the rest of his family on the poor fringe of town. Because his room was upstairs it had a very low ceiling that slanted down towards its one window. The window’s small square panes of glass peeked out across the slate rooftop, through the twisted black branches of a tall oak tree, to the grey cobblestone street below. Across from his bedroom was Uncle Zachary’s room. Mother and Father shared the bedroom at the end of the hall.
He and his family were notorious creatures of habit. Mother and Father would get up every morning, put the old, chipped coffee pot on, get dressed, and head off to work. Grandma and Grandpa stayed home and, “held down the fort,” as Grandpa liked to say. Grandma would spend the days cooking and cleaning while Grandpa puttered around fixing this and that or working on “Thelma” his old tractor.
Artemis meanwhile, went off to school where he frequently spent his class time daydreaming through lessons on history or math or science, drifting off into a world of his own imagination. Sometimes his teacher would catch Artemis not paying attention and would jolt him back to class with the slap of the long wooden yardstick he kept handy by the side of his desk.
The days flowed by in a tick-tock rhythm of scheduled routine. They were a proper, hard working, conventional family here in Charleswood. That is, now that his Uncle Zachary was gone.
Uncle Zachary, you see, was very different from the other people in the village. He was a dirt under the nails, unashamedly, rough edged man who couldn’t help but stand out among the straightlaced residents of the town. He was tall and rangy and he let his dark hair, which was now beginning to gray, grow so long so that it touched his shoulders when it wasn’t tied back. He had a scar across his right cheek and his close cropped, dappled beard, which tended to make his face look dirty, made the scar all the more prominent. Uncle Zachary wore glasses. They had perfectly round, blue tinted lenses, which were held in place by a silver wire that extended backward from his face and curled around his ears. He explained to Artemis that was to prevent their flying off in case of a sudden movement. Exactly when Uncle Zachary expected to encounter this movement was beyond Artemis. Seeing them perched on his uncle’s long sharp nose prompted Artemis to comment hat he thought he resembled a giant owl, to which Zachary replied, “Not a bad thing, owls are a symbol of knowledge. I guess you’re sayin’ they make me look smart.”
Uncle Zachary wore a long oilskin duster whenever he left the house, a coat that couldn’t have been better designed to make him stick out like a sore thumb. It had several pockets on the inside that Uncle Zachary kept crammed with an assorted jumble of odds and ends that for some reason he considered invaluable when leaving the house. He tucked his pant legs into the tall leather boots that he wore with their double straps across the top and small pocket on the side.
“Always wear a good sturdy pair of boots,” he would say, “and never leave the house without a piece of licorice in your pocket. Gnomes love it ya’ know. Give a gnome a piece of licorice and you’ve got a friend for life.” Artemis wasn’t sure about gnomes but found that to be extremely good advice to follow as he was very fond of licorice himself.
Uncle Zachary possessed a big roaring laugh, which Artemis loved to hear, although unfortunately his uncle had a tendency to unleash it at the most inopportune of times, which certainly did nothing to add friends to a list that was awfully short to begin with. He couldn’t stand snobbery or class distinction and in a fight would enthusiastically root for the underdog even if he had no idea as to what the exchange was about and would happily join in if given half the chance.
Uncle Zachary liked to take long walks, no matter the weather, which could be very cold and damp for much of the year. “Its my thinking time,” he would explain. You could often see Uncle Zachary making his way over the rocky outcrops of the hills in his long coat, leather bag slung over his shoulder. He would walk for hours through the hills, deep in thought, oblivious to the world around him. In his mind he would be off to who knows where, his lips moving as he muttered things under his breath. If his route happened to take him through the village people would do their best to steer clear but wherever he passed by he would leave a turbulent wake of whispers and laughs trailing behind.
“Hmph. No idea of anything that exists outside of your narrow minded little world,” he would grumble as he narrowed his eyes.
Unfortunately, being average, which Zachary would never be, was considered a virtue in this staid little village and while a few kind hearts saw him as a harmless eccentric most of the villagers thought he was deranged and to be completely avoided if at all possible. As far as Artemis was concerned though, Uncle Zachary’s peculiarities were what made him so wonderful. To Artemis, he was a bold splash of color in a world drenched in grey, a breath of cool arctic air during a stale summer night.
Uncle Zachary liked to call himself a “Traveler.” He would tell Artemis all about the far flung destinations he journeyed to, even though he was never away from home for more than a day or two. These expeditions rarely seemed to be planned or have an itinerary of any sort. He would simply, “Get some hare-brained notion,” as Father would say, and then disappear into thin air, only to reappear just as suddenly.
“That’s no way for a grown man to conduct himself,” Grandma would say to Artemis as she would shake her head and sniff, “Flitting off from one place to another, like he hasn’t got a care in the world.”
“No sense at all,” Grandpa would always add, pointing a finger for emphasis. “Man his age should stay home and go to work and start acting responsible for a change.”
Artemis didn’t like to think of Uncle Zachary as irresponsible, he thought Uncle Zachary just did things his own way. He didn’t have a job, true, But then again he never asked anyone for money. He kept to a schedule, it was just very... flexible. He ate when he was hungry, slept when he was tired, came and went as he pleased and generally spent his time the way that he saw fit. That sounded sensible enough to Artemis.
Artemis knew too that his uncle had a wide range of knowledge and could converse about nearly any subject, a trait Artemis chalked up to his uncle’s nose being so often planted in a book. Uncle Zachary loved the old classics, like Robin Hood or Treasure Island. He devoured books by Bradbury and Verne, Dumas and Defoe. He once said to Artemis, as he held up a book about King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table, “Mark my words Artemis, there’s valuable information in these pages.” He even went so far one time as to claim a book about the fabled lost continent of Atlantis was research, “Background information for an upcoming trip,” he said
Given Uncle Zachary’s quirky behavior it wasn’t surprising that he possessed a very colorful imagination. He had a spectacular gift as a storyteller which unfortunately no one outside the family knew about because his nephew was the only one he would share his stories with. Artemis could sit for hours in rapt attention, listening to accounts about incredible trips to all kinds of strange places. There were tales about seeing mythological creatures or crossing swords with characters right out of those novels he read. Artemis knew his uncle had to be stretching the truth with his stories but to hear Uncle Zachary tell it every word he spoke was, “the God’s honest truth.”
Artemis marveled at the ability his uncle had to transport him to whatever place he had been to. When uncle Zachary told a story it was as if he was reliving the experience, right before your eyes, which made it seem all the more believable. His descriptions of places he traveled to and the people he met there would begin to trickle out of him at first but when he got rolling look out. The trickle would become a stream and then a river, the stories building in intensity until they became a raging flood, and Artemis loved to be immersed in it. There was no mistaking the feeling that Zachary had a total belief in every word he spoke. His accounts were extremely detailed and vibrant, the places he visited were described with such flair, that Artemis almost felt he was right there with him. His knack for storytelling was so magical that one time Artemis swore he heard the voice of Vikktor Meadius, (who his uncle had always referred to as the most despicable man in this time or any other), cursing Zachary as clearly as if he were shouting from the hall.
But his genius didn’t end there, whenever Uncle Zachary would tell Artemis a story, he would prove that it really did happen by showing him what he claimed to be irrefutable evidence of his escapade, what he referred to as the “key link” to the whole affair. This invariably would turn out to be no more than some odd bit or piece of generally worthless junk. Not that Artemis cared of course. For Artemis, spending time with Uncle Zachary, knowing that he alone was privileged enough to share in his uncle’s experiences, was worth more than any material wealth he could imagine.
It was plain to see that a strong bond had developed between Artemis and Zachary.In the few short years his uncle had lived with them they was as strong as any could be. He loved his uncle dearly and he wondered how many people were lucky enough in life to share such a friendship.
But on the other hand he also saw why the rest of the family resented the way that Uncle Zachary lived his life. Mother and Father both worked so hard just to keep a roof over their heads and food on the table. Grandma and Grandpa had both worked hard their whole lives too and even now kept at it with all the chores they did around the house. It had been years since they had taken so much as a vacation trip to the seashore and yet here was his uncle, “an oversized bum,” as Grandpa used to say, who wandered off at will bouncing around from place to place at the slightest whim.
Mother had begun to worry about Artemis spending so much time with his uncle.
“I know he likes to tell you all kinds of made up stories about his traipsing all over the world Artemis,” she said one time when she saw him leaving Uncle’s room, her arms piled high with laundry. “I’ve heard his stories. When he gets going you can hear him through the walls you know. I just hope you realize that it’s all a bunch of nonsense. He never really goes anywhere. How could he, he’s never gone long enough to? He’s just a lazy man who refuses to grow up and get a job.” She said the last part in a voice loud enough that it was obviously intended to be heard by more than just Artemis.
“Hmph. Man’s a lunatic if you ask me,” said Grandpa, who had been standing around the corner, cupping his hand to his ear so as not to miss a word. He snorted, hiked up his trousers and steamed into the next room.
Artemis hated to admit it but as he was getting older he was beginning to think that maybe they had a point. He loved his uncle dearly but there was no denying the fact that Uncle Zachary would never be considered a great role model.
“Psst. Artemis. You see this?” Uncle Zachary had motioned Artemis to come into his room one evening. He had just come back from a trip and was holding up some hairy wad of a thing between his long fingers letting it dangle as if he were a hypnotist about to put his subject under a spell. Artemis entered the room and sat down. Under the warm lamp light, his uncle’s pale blue eyes flashed wide. He had already peeled off a long piece of black licorice and now he handed it to Artemis.
It was a hunk of fur uncle was holding, long and reddish brown. It had the distinct odor of an old sweat sock that had been left to molder under the bed. “Came from a woolly mammoth,” he said in a whispered tone. “You know a tea infused with mammoth hair will cure jaundice? At least that’s what the shaman say. Sounds to me like the cure might be worse than the disease, eh?” He smiled. “Oh Artemis you should see ‘em,” You could see he was drifting off to another place as he said this, his voice filled with admiration. Artemis could see the signs. Uncle Zachary was gearing up for a rip shorter. “Huge beasts they are with murderous long tusks that they swing from side to side batterin’ to pieces anything or anyone unfortunate enough to get in their way.” Uncle Zachary stared into space as if he had been transported back to prehistoric times and was watching the whole scene unfold before him. “I’m telling ‘ya boy the ground shook when they passed by as they pounded it with those tree trunk legs of theirs,” he went on. “They travel in herds most of the time and they raised a cloud of dust that hung thick in the pale yellow air that day. So thick it made the sun burn red in the sky. Their fur is coarse and thick, you know, their hides tough as nails. This one,” and here he held up the chunk of fur, “This one was the leader, a big bull, far and away the biggest of them all.” He turned the fur over and over in his long fingers. “He would be out there, in front, leading the herd, suspicious of anything that might be a threat. He was my target. Even though their eyes aren’t the sharpest they have a powerful sense of smell. I disguised my scent with mammoth dung so they wouldn’t pick up on my bein’ nearby.” Artemis wrinkled his nose in disgust. “But otherwise I had no idea how I was gonna get close enough to get this, without gettin’ killed in the process. I circled around, keeping low to the ground and tried to size up my options, to come up with a plan of some sort. I stumbled across a dry creek bed. The ground was still soft so I dug in.” Uncle Zachary had knelt down, put his hands together and started digging through the air. “I sat there in the hole I dug amongst the flies and the lizards, watching and waiting in the blazing heat and the dust as that big bull brought the herd in my direction.” Artemis could see beads of sweat were now starting to form on Uncle Zachary’s brow. “I wasn’t foolish enough to try and bring him down with a spear, no, he’d a had me flat before I got anywhere near close enough to get off a decent throw. But the more I sat in the sweltering heat and the more I watched those colossal brutes, roasting in those heavy coats of theirs, the more it came to me. The woolly mammoth is never gonna win a marathon. You understand?” His pace quickened. “They’re fast, awful fast when they need to be but only in short bursts.” He began to pull on his lip now, his eyes intent in a trance-like gaze. Artemis swore the room was getting warmer. He began to see himself alongside his uncle. He tasted the blowing dust in his mouth. “So I thought to myself why not tire ‘em out a bit. Yeah, that’s what I’ll do. I’ll get those overstuffed mangy devils to run so hard they got no choice but to collapse in exhaustion. Get ‘em to spend their time frettin’ about how hot and tired they are instead of eyeballin’ little ol’ me, a miniscule flea flittin’ by who couldn’t possibly do ‘em no harm.” His excitement was electric. He was really on that hot dry prehistoric plain plotting to nab a piece of that mammoth just as much as he was here in his bedroom with Artemis. He grabbed Artemis’ arm with one hand and began to gesture with the other. “Now, all I needed to do was to get ‘em running, see? To light a fire under the old boy, so to speak.” Artemis saw Uncle Zachary reach down to his belt with his right hand. It looked like he was reaching down to grab the knife that he sometimes carried with him. “So I moved out from my hiding spot and...”
Just then Artemis’ mother called. “Artemis, come set the table. Dinner will be ready in a minute. And tell that Uncle of yours to come get these old boots out of the kitchen. They smell terrible.”
The spell was broken. Uncle Zachary snapped back from stalking the mammoth, back from his hiding spot in the dry creek bed, from the dust and the heat and the sun that beat down on his sweaty brow, back here, to his room. He looked at Artemis over his round glasses, blinked a few times, and then flashed a grin. “Go on then, you heard your mother, go set the table,” he said as he rubbed the sunburn on the back of his neck. “I’ll tell you the rest some other time.”
Uncle Zachary glanced at the floor, then laughed to himself and carefully wrapped the mammoth hair in a piece of tissue, set it in an old tin and placed it in his large beat up trunk. It took its place alongside all the other strange bits and pieces of his treasure, inside the old box with its dark, water stained cloth lining and tarnished green lock on the front.
Although his uncle happily shared the contents of the trunk with Artemis he knew that Uncle Zachary’s old chest was strictly off limits and was kept tightly locked whenever his uncle was not in the room with it.
Artemis was thinking about all this as he began to replay the events of last year in his head. He was sure he knew the reason Uncle Zachary had vanished:
Artemis was awakened by a dull thud from outside his room. It was the night before his tenth birthday and he lay in bed unable to sleep. He heard Uncle Zachary returning from one of his excursions. In a failed attempt to sneak in unnoticed, he had stumbled into the hall table and it made a thunk against the wall. Artemis could smell the wet earth on his uncle’s shoes and the dusty spice of faraway on his coat. He could hear his uncle tiptoe into his room and turn on the lamp. Uncle Zachary had swung the bed room door behind him as he entered but it didn’t quite close all the way so Artemis sneaked out of bed and crossed the cold tile hallway to peer in at him through the crack. Uncle Zachary laid his beat up old leather shoulder bag on the bed, (the one he had told Artemis was stitched together by the saddle maker to King Arthur). Artemis could see the initials “ZB” that were stamped into the leather as Uncle Zachary undid the front buckle and tossed the flap backward. He reached up and retrieved a copy of “The Lost World” from its spot on the top shelf of the bookcase. Artemis watched as Uncle Zachary opened the book and saw a key drop down onto the bed. His uncle then took the key over to his trunk and unlocked its big brass lock. He slowly pushed open the lid with its creaky hinge, trying to be as quiet as he could and then began to remove several objects from his bag and place them inside. When he came to the final object, some type of disk shaped piece, he held it up under the light and turned it over admiring the warm glow of its brilliant gold finish. He paused and ran his fingers across its face. There were raised figures of some kind on the front but through the small crack in the door Artemis had trouble making out exactly what they were. Uncle Zachary slipped the disk into a black velvet pouch with a gold drawstring around the top. He pulled the string tight and placed the bag gently into the trunk with all the rest. He closed the lid. The hinge creaked in protest. He let out a heavy sigh and then replaced the lock in its hasp and snapped it shut. As Uncle Zachary turned toward the door, Artemis ducked down and scampered back into bed.
He laid in bed and starred at the ceiling finding it hard to fall asleep. It would be his birthday come morning and he couldn’t wait to see if one of the items his uncle had set into the trunk was meant for him.
Artemis awoke the next day and dashed across the hall, anxious to hear what Uncle Zachary might have to say about his latest trip, instead, he found his room empty. Father told Artemis Zachary had left early to go out for a walk. Artemis waited all day for his uncle to return and was overjoyed when he saw him arrive home in time for dinner. Everyone was to gather at the kitchen table for dinner that night which in itself made it a special occasion. Artemis felt honored.
His family sang “Happy Birthday” as Mother carried in her cake which had earlier been sent into hiding in the living room. Yellow cake with vanilla frosting that Artemis had asked his mother to dye blue. He had no idea why that idea sprang to mind but he thought his uncle would appreciate the oddness of it. Grandma had folded some sheets of newspaper into party hats. When she handed one to Father he said in a mock serious tone that it would mess up his beautiful locks. Grandpa said, No problem here,” and then leaning close to Artemis said, “Cause this melon is as bald as a baby’s bottom,” and he slapped the top of his head for effect.
With the cake in front of him, candles dancing, Artemis closed his eyes and made a wish. He went to blow out the ten candles but started laughing so hard that he missed two the first time and needed a second try.
“Oh that means bad luck my boy, bad luck,” Grandpa kidded in a sing song voice.
“Oh stop with your bad luck talk,” Grandma said as she sliced Mother’s cake and relayed a piece to Father. “I’m sure whatever you wished for will come true dear,” she said to Artemis. Father set the plate down in front of Artemis on the blue and white checkered tablecloth, hugged his shoulders and said, “Happy Birthday, son.” Grandpa reached across the table for a fork, and his sweater sleeve dragged in the cake frosting. That caused another round of laughter. Embarrassed, Grandpa decided to change the subject so he reached into his sweater and pulled out a card which he handed to Artemis.
“That’s from your Grandmother and me,” he said in a clipped, formal tone.
Artemis opened the card and as he did so a coin dropped to the table.
“You put some of that away now you hear? That’s the trouble with you kids. Never save any money, it’s always spend, spend, spend. Now when I was your age I …”
“Thank you Grandma and Grandpa,” Artemis said.
“ Your welcome boy,” Grandpa smiled warmly.
Artemis looked across the table to Uncle Zachary with anticipation. He always gave Artemis something from one of his trips and although the gifts never had any real value, like a gold coin does, Artemis couldn’t wait to see what Uncle Zachary had brought for him this time, especially after watching him unload his new treasure through the crack in the bedroom door the previous night.
“What? What are you looking at me for? Oh so you think I brought you something do you? A birthday present perhaps?” Uncle Zachary smiled, “Ah, ‘course I did. I couldn’t forget the birthday of my favorite nephew now could I?” He reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out a long leather loop on the middle of which dangled a tapered cream colored object. The object had shallow tan grooves running down from the top, which was ringed with a gold band. There was an eye on the end through which ran the leather cord.
“You see this Artemis my boy?” Uncle said, as he held the object up in his large hand. “This,” he paused for emphasis, “is a dragon’s tooth.”
“Oh brother, here we go,” said Grandpa, as his bald head dropped down into his brown spotted hands. “He gives the kid a polished rock and tells him some cockamamie story about a make believe animal. When are you going to give this stuff a rest Zachary?”
“Crazy stories. All the time with your crazy stories,” said Grandma, as she shook her hands in the air.
“Zachary really,” scolded Mother, “don’t you think the boy is getting a little old for your nonsense?”
“Now Sarah,” said my father. “It’s only a little fun.” And then he turned to Uncle and said, “But really Zachary don’t you think he’s a little old for fairy tales? I know you should be.”
Uncle Zachary reddened at Father’s remark. He handed his present to Artemis and they all ate their cake in uncomfortable silence.
Mother and Father, Grandma and Grandpa decided to have coffee in the living room after they finished. Grandpa switched on the tv. Uncle Zachary and Artemis stayed behind at the table, Artemis anxious to hear what kind of wild tales he had in store after last night not to mention what he must have to say about a dragon’s tooth.
“Do you like the present Artemis?” Uncle Zachary asked.
“It’s fantastic, Artemis replied. “How did you get this Uncle Zachary? Tell me the story”
“How I came by the dragon’s tooth isn’t important.”
“Isn’t important? Artemis couldn’t believe what he had just heard. “But I can’t wait to hear what you must have done to get it. Did you have to disguise your scent and sneak up on him? Like you did with the mammoth? Or did you…”
“ Artemis listen…”
“Or maybe you climbed on its back and hung on as it flew off.” Artemis made flapping motions with his arms. “It could fly right? Don’t dragons have wings, can’t they fly...”
“Yes, yes, it had wings. It’s from a Mesa Dragon they’re some of the best fliers that ever lived, but stop, listen to me boy.”
“What about fire? Did it breath fire I know it must have. I bet…”
Bang! Uncle Zachary pounded his fist on the table.
“What was that? asked Mother from the other room. “Is everything alright in there?”
“Fine. We’re... I uh... just swatted a mosquito that’s all,” said Uncle.
“ A mosquito? I bet they’re coming in through that hole in the screen door that I asked you to fix dear,” said Grandma. “You should just replace the whole thing. It’s so old.”
“Replace the door?” Grandpa said. “Do you know how hard it is to find a wood screen door like that? They don’t make ‘em like that anymore believe you me. Why...”
Grandpa’s voice droned on in the other room as Uncle Zachary looked intently at Artemis.
“Artemis, now listen to me. I want you to take this in your hand and close your fingers around it tightly.” Artemis took the dragon’s tooth in his hand as Uncle closed his own tightly over it.
“Now clear your mind. Don’t think about anything.”
“But how do I not think about anything? As soon as you tell me not to think about anything I start to think about something.”
“ Artemis!” Uncle Zachary’s voice rose and he gripped his hand tighter. “OK. ok, now, now just relax.” His grip loosened a bit. He grinned nervously. “Just concentrate on the tooth, ok? If you can’t think of nothing think of that.”
Artemis did as his uncle instructed him to. He started thinking about the tooth in his hand. It was smooth and cool to the touch. He could feel the tan grooves and some ridges too. He noticed a rough edge on one side, small serrations that he didn’t see before. And now a tingling sensation began to emanate from the tooth. It began to vibrate, slowly at first and then faster and faster. The vibrations spread from his hand up into his arm. Soon his entire body began to vibrate, to hum. Then slowly the tooth started to fade from his mind. He started to feel a floating sensation as if he were being lifted from his body. He looked down and could see himself sitting there at the kitchen table. He could see that his uncle had let go of his hand, no longer gripping it in his own. Uncle Zachary started to fall away as well, it all started to fall away, his uncle, the kitchen. He felt as if he were no longer in the house at all. Suddenly colors began to rush into his mind, blues and greens that fanned out in wide arcs. He became part of a dazzling kaleidoscope of light that blinded him with its intensity as it flashed through his mind, faster, faster, faster. His body now hummed and pulsed like the buzz of a thousand bees. He felt electric. He saw glimpses of faces fly by. He saw strange towns and scenery that he had never seen before. It was like looking out the window of the fastest train imaginable. Everything became no more than a blur. Flashing lights, the rushing sensation, his heart jumping, his body thrumming. He felt like he was about to explode and then... Blackness. Nothing. He was bathed in nothingness. As his body continued its frantic throbbing he began to see points of light begin to emerge. Stars shone all around him. It was frightening and beautiful and altogether overwhelming. He had the feeling of being all alone under the starry sky and yet he felt that he had somehow become a part of everything. He felt a current flowing through him and out of him, a rhythmic current that he could feel flowed through all creation. The universe was flooding through his veins and he through it.
In the distance he heard something. A voice called out to him,, faint at first and then stronger.
“ Artemis? Artemis?”
It was his uncle’s voice. Artemis blinked. He was back sitting at the kitchen table, his elbow red from pressing hard on the checkered tablecloth, his hand still clutching the dragon’s tooth. Uncle Zachary was there again, sitting across the table from him, moving his head back and forth, up and down, as if trying to determine if Artemis was real or an illusion. Then his uncle smiled a knowing smile and said, “Would you like another piece of cake?”
Chapter 2: The Secret
Father walked in quickly from the living room. “Did the lights dim in here too?” he was looking at Artemis when he asked the question. Father noticed a blank, faraway look on Artemis’ face and then his eyes drifted down to Artemis’ hand. He still held the dragon’s tooth but his fingers had relaxed and it was now exposed, gleaming under the pendant light which hung over the kitchen table. Father paused, looked as if adding some numbers in his head, and then he turned and looked at Uncle Zachary.
“What’s going on in here?’ Father asked suspiciously. Artemis could see out of the corner of his eye that father wasn’t paying any attention to the coffee cup he was holding. It tipped and drops of coffee began falling onto Grandma’s freshly scrubbed floor. Father was taller than the light that hung over the kitchen table so his face remained in the shadows. Artemis could see past his father to his mother and grandparents, blue in the television’s glow.
“Not a thing Nicholas, not a thing. I was just tellin’ the boy one of my stories, that all. Just another “tall tale.” You know, “Brave Uncle Zachary snaggin’ that dragon’s “tooth” there.” Zachary said the word “tooth” with extra emphasis, and made curling motions with his fingers, as if he were trying to say that the tooth was a fake, something made up, like it was merely a painted piece of wood or a long polished stone and not a dragon’s tooth at all. Zachary slouched a bit in his chair in an attempt to look laid back and indifferent.
“Zachary I thought we agreed that you were going to stop telling Artemis all those fairy tales of yours,” Father said in a firm, icy tone and he came up close pressing into the edge of the table.
“I know Nicholas, I know. Nothing to worry about,” said Zachary, the pitch of his voice rising, the faintest blush spreading over his face. “Just havin’ a little fun. That’s it. Honest.” he tossed his hand in the air as if tossing away a gum wrapper. “Just another one of Uncle Zachary’s silly stories, right Arty? You know they’re all make believe now, right?
Uncle Zachary never called Artemis “Arty,” he knew how much Artemis disliked being called that. What exactly was happening here? Artemis’ mind was still swimming after his hallucination, or vision, or whatever it was that had taken place. “Clearly Uncle was behind it all because he didn’t want Father to find out,” he thought. “Right?” Artemis’ could feel a headache beginning to creep up from the back of his head and his fingers were still tingling. Uncle Zachary slouched down in his chair.
“I have to say Father,” Artemis said as he jerked a thumb toward Zachary, “it was one of his crazier stories. He was trying to act casual himself but it came off as more like antsy. He had decided to go along with his uncle’s lie for the time being but he thought Uncle Zachary had better have a good explanation.
“I mean, c’mon Uncle Zachary, it was a dark and stormy night as you stole a dragon from the king’s own stables.” Artemis rolled his eyes. “And that stuff about riding him across the mountains with the entire army searching for you down below with their torches and their spears.” Artemis had just now made the story up and yet as he said the words he had the distinct feeling that he had heard the story before. It was almost as if someone else were sitting in his head, feeding his mind the words he was speaking. Uncle Zachary had begun shaking his head back and forth and was motioning with his hands for Artemis to stop talking. Father’s head swiveled around to peer at Zachary who had instantly stopped shaking his head and had begun instead to shrug his shoulders, sheepishly, as if apologizing to Father for telling Artemis that such a thing could have actually happened. He slouched down further. If he slouched any more he would slide under the table completely.
“Really Uncle Zack, I think I’m getting a little old for this stuff.” His uncle raised his brow as to say, “Is that so?” Artemis knew his Uncle hated to be called Zack. His father’s face was sketchy in the darkness but Artemis thought his expression appeared to be one of disbelief.
Father glanced back and forth between the two of them. Artemis couldn’t tell if Father was buying all this or not. But then Father’s face began to soften and relax and apparently satisfied, he said, “Well ok then. Anyone for another piece of cake?”
The minute his father left the room Artemis turned to his uncle and hissed, “What was that all about and what just happened to me? ”
Uncle Zachary grabbed the front of his chair and slid around the table, tight to Artemis, in one swift move. “That dragon story you just told your father, very strange, I don’t remember telling you that one.” Uncle Zachary looked puzzled and serious. “But I guess I must have, eh? In any case if you’re gonna tell it, get it right, he was a prince not a king. Anyway, didn’t want your father to guess what we was up to, although I’m not sure we convinced him.” He stole a look into the living room.
Artemis had no idea what Uncle Zachary was talking about. In the living room Grandma was complaining that there was never anything good on tv and Grandpa was loudly suggesting that they should, “Toss the dang thing out.” Father kept cycling through the channels with the remote as Mother sipped her coffee.
Uncle Zachary seemed content that they wouldn’t be overheard. “So, go on, tell me, what was it like?” Uncle Zachary asked, looking over those round glasses of his. “Been a long time since my first connection.”
“First connection?” Artemis had no clue as to what Uncle Zachary could possibly be talking about.
“That’s right connection. Let me guess, you felt tingly all over like you stuck you finger in the wall socket.”
“How did you know?” Artemis asked. Uncle Zachary was grinning ear to ear.
“And then you began to kind of drift off?” he leaned back in his chair and wiggled the fingers on his hands as he moved them up and apart.
“Yeah. I felt like I had left the kitchen but that I was still here at the same time.” Artemis had both of his hands on the table, gripping it as if afraid he might drift off again at any moment.
Uncle Zachary let out a snort of glee. “Left but still here, good way to put it. Did you feel a rushing sensation? Kinda like being in the middle of a fast moving current?”
“Sort of. More like I was riding on a speeding train or something. And then it all went black, until I saw the stars.”
“Stars huh, Well how about that. Went all the way back to the beginning. You have a true talent boy, but what Brazewell didn’t eh?” Uncle Zachary poked him with his elbow.
Artemis was more confused than ever. Mother walked into the room just then carrying a stack of coffee cups to set in the sink. Uncle Zachary sprang up from his chair and said, Let me help you with the dishes then, eh Sara?” and then turned to Artemis and with his finger to his lips gave Artemis a knowing wink and a nod.
Later that evening after everyone had gone to bed Uncle Zachary slipped into Artemis’ room closing the door softly behind him. He glanced down the hall, his big hand cradling the knob, turning it slowly so the latch made no noise. Artemis couldn’t remember the last time his uncle had been in his room. He was wearing his long oilskin coat and it was packed to the hilt. He could smell licorice. He guessed Uncle was planning to go away again tonight.
“I have to leave soon so you need to listen carefully to what I have to tell you. It’s important. Maybe the most important thing you’ll ever hear. But you must promise me that it will never leave this room,” Uncle Zachary spoke in a low hushed voice.
The experience tonight at the kitchen table had left Artemis feeling shaky. He was confused and sure that if his head spun any faster it would fly off his body completely. It didn’t sound right to Artemis that he should keep this from his parents but then again, he had always trusted his uncle as much as he trusted anyone. “Uncle Zachary must have good reason for keeping this a secret,” he thought. He decided to at least hear his uncle out. Artemis reluctantly nodded in agreement.
“Artemis do you remember earlier this evening, in the kitchen, when I told you that you had “connected” for the first time?”
“Yes but I have no idea what you meant,” Artemis replied. “Connected to what?”
“In a nutshell, to the heart and soul of the entire universe, the Continuum.” Uncle Zachary beamed. It was obvious that he was thrilled to be telling him this. It was like he was making Artemis a member of his secret club.
“Heart and soul of the universe.” Artemis had no idea what to make of that. This was one of Uncle’s stranger stories for sure. “You’re telling me that I connected myself to the heart of the universe. Sitting at our kitchen table?”
“Yep. In your kitchen, your bedroom, in your underwear at three am on the other side of the world. Makes no difference. Distance doesn’t matter because there is no distance, not where the Continuum is concerned. It’s all around us. We’re awash in the Continuum no matter where in the universe we are. We can’t see it or measure it, but it’s there just the same. We connect with it from time to time, especially if we have the right mindset, the right equipment, and the the right, um, talent shall we say?” Uncle Zachary gave the unmistakable impression that he meant Artemis had this “talent” as he rubbed his hands together briskly.
“The Continuum,” Artemis repeated flatly. His uncle had told him a lot of way out stuff in the past and Artemis had happily gone along with it, pretending that the stories really happened. That was all part of the game they played, right? But Artemis couldn’t help thinking this felt different. Uncle Zachary was going too far this time. And what did this have to do with what had happened to him earlier tonight?
“Uncle w-what are you talking about?”Artemis asked, slightly scared to hear the answer. He felt that strange quiver again down deep inside.
“The Continuum, Artemis, is a type of energy, a pure, near conscious energy, that has existed since the universe was born. When that first spark ignited and the entire cosmos exploded out in all directions, creating everything we know, the Continuum was created alongside it. It’s present everywhere, it flows through all of time and space, in every world.” His uncle looked as if he were seeing miles into the distance as his hand made a broad sweep across the room. “And seeing as how we’re humans you and I, we have a very special gift. Being humans means that we get to connect to the Continuum. We get to experience, for even just that tiniest fraction of a second, the power of that energy.”
Artemis was completely baffled and more than a little nervous. If what he felt before in the kitchen was a “connection”, that strange, rushing, electrical buzzing feeling, it was a gift he wanted no part of. He began to get fidgety.
Uncle Zachary continued, talking faster as he began to get more and more excited. “A connection may only last for the briefest of moments, but in that split second, we can feel its flow, the power of its energy. We forge a link to all that has ever been or ever will be. It’s an incredibly powerful moment, as you yourself now know, and the resonance it leaves behind lasts forever. Most people, when they bridge the gap, claim to have had a flash of insight, an inspiration. Painters, poets, musicians, the people we consider to be the most creative and brilliant are connecting although most have no idea what’s going on behind the scenes. Hey, even those poor persons with no imaginations at all make a connection now and again. It’s what happens when we dream.”
Artemis thought about how he was always having the most incredibly vivid dreams.
“Different people have different facilities naturally, just like any other talent. The ones who have the greatest natural ability to connect we typically think of as geniuses. Einstein for example, it’s clear he connected on a regular basis, that’s for sure. And DaVinci? well, he connected so often he nearly became a full fledged Traveler and that would have been a first, eh? Someone not born to The Guild. Amazing man DaVinci. Did you know he actually had the most infantile sense of humor, real prankster that one.” Uncle Zachary was looking down and had a wistful smile on his face as if remembering a particular time spent with a long lost friend. “Did you know the Mona Lisa is really a self portrait? Minus the beard of course. I chuckle to myself every time I see it. Ah that Leo.”
Artemis didn’t know what to make of all this. His uncle had told so many crazy stories all through the years but they were more like fairy tales or mythology. This was different.
“But no matter how adept a person may be when it comes to reaching out to the Continuum no one can make the connection for long enough on their own to really exploit all it’s promise. Not even the greatest Master Travelers, and by the way, you happen to be looking at one, Master Traveler that is,” Uncle Zachary arched his brows, stood up proudly and made a sweeping motion with his hand. “That’s what we call those of us that are able to access the Continuum to travel to wherever we please. ‘Course you need a resonator. If you want to travel anywhere. You know, physically, I mean”
“A resonator? Master Traveler?” This was getting stranger by the minute.
“Yeah, thats right. Look, remember how I said that when you connect to the Continuum the resulting force leaves behind what I called a resonance? That’s a kind of residual energy left behind from the Continuum. It varies in strength and can be contained in almost anything. Those objects, the ones that contain a useful resonance, are called links. “Resonant links” to be formal about it but links will do. That dragon’s tooth you held tonight, the one that helped you to connect? That’s a link, and a pretty powerful one at that, judging by your description of the experience, eh?” He stroked his whiskers. “The resonant energy in that one, whoo, must be off the charts. Still, not enough to get the job done if you really want to get anywhere. If you want to travel through time or to other worlds.”
“Travel through time.”
“That’s right, through time.” Uncle Zachary read the disbelief on Artemis’ face. “Oh don’t look at me like that, I’ve told you for years about how I traveled back and forth through time. Did you really think I was just makin’ all that up? Ok, granted some of it may have been “enhanced.” That stuff about me and Catherine the Great, a bit exaggerated, I’ll give you that.” Zachary blushed, “ But Artemis most of the stories I’ve told you are true. I really have traveled through time and space and so can you. All it takes is a resonator and the proper link. You have to believe me.”
There was no doubt that Uncle Zachary believed every word he was speaking.
“A resonant link allows you to follow its energy path backwards, it enables you to make a connection to the Continuum at that key’s moment of creation Well more or less. Fun? Of course. But useful? Mmm... not so much. You may get a jolt of inspired thought or a creative boost. Not a bad thing, but if you want to engage the Continuum for any duration at all, to be able to physically reach a chosen destination and have the ability to stay there, in other words to travel, than you need an amplifier of sorts, and that’s the device we call a resonator. By placing the proper link into a resonator the energy it contains gets multiplied and the person holding the resonator makes a connection, not a connection like you did tonight, or when you have those incredible dreams of yours, but a truly physical connection, a bridge to a very specific place and time in the Continuum. In this world or any other.”
“Any other? You mean you think you can go to another planet? Like Jupiter or something?”
“Another planet? No, that’s absurd. You’re kidding right? There’s no resonator I know of that could ever be that powerful. No I mean another world right here. There’s hundreds of them you know. All around us. Physicists like to call them parallel universes.”
Artemis’ stomach was flip flopping, he felt slightly nauseous. All this talk about resonance and energy and traveling to parallel worlds, this wasn’t like any story his uncle had told before. For the first time in his life Artemis began to feel uneasy being with his uncle. He began to feel cold, he thought he could feel himself getting pale. He imagined water started streaming into the room. It began to wash over his feet.
Uncle Zachary thought Artemis looked slightly green around the gills. He reached out with both hands and took him by the arms.
“You alright boy?” he asked. He put a hand under Artemis’ chin and gently lifted his head. Artemis couldn’t face him right now and looked down. “Hey, I know it’s a bit of a load to take in especially all at once. It was never my intention to tell you this way but I’m leavin’ tonight and I didn’t want to go without explaining things to you.”
Artemis had become very uncomfortable. He still felt a trembling deep inside somewhere from the incident in the kitchen. He was worried that his uncle was really losing it. He had always thought his uncle was strange but harmless. Now he wasn’t so sure about that last part. Uncle Zachary must have had something to do with what had happened earlier, but what? Artemis wondered if his uncle had given him something to make him feel the way he had, to see those things. It was a horrible thought and Artemis hated himself for thinking it. How could he imagine such a terrible thing was even possible? But he couldn’t help it. He felt embarrassed and scared all at the same time. If his uncle could do something like that what else was he capable of? Panic was rising in his body. It rose faster than the water that he imagined was now flowing freely all around him.
Suddenly he didn’t want to be here, in his room, with his uncle. The walls of his room were closing in, it was suffocating, hot. There was a part of him that wanted to shut out the world, a desire to simply close his eyes and fall backward, to submerge himself in the rush of water that he could now feel spreading out in all directions, becoming an ocean in his room as the walls faded from his sight. He imagined his body changing. His fingers were lengthening, becoming beams of blue light, shooting out into space. They touched ancient trees, and he felt the wind blowing through their branches. There was a primeval force beckoning to him, appealing to something basic, deep down inside. It was safe and reassuring and he longed to be a part of it, as if it was where he belonged. He could become one with the water, exploding outward into a million tiny particles that spread into every last corner of time and space.
But there was another part of his mind that felt scared, that feared the water. It jerked him back to his room and told him the water was dangerous that he had to resist its pull, that his very survival depended on it.
“Let me go, let me go,” he burst out.
“Artemis? Artemis? What’s wrong? Ah, still feeling the effects of your earlier connection I’ll bet. It’s alright, it’s just a bit of post travel fatigue, we all go through it the first time we use a key to make a connection,” his uncle said with a laugh. “It’ll fade away soon enough and then...
“Take your hands off me! Leave me alone!” Artemis yelled. The anxiety in him had spread. The water was so close, so inviting. But the fear in him was strong. It protectively walled off his thoughts of the water, and hid them in a dark corner of his mind where they might be forgotten. All his attention could now be focused back on his uncle and his room. He felt weak and his knees began to buckle.
“Artemis what’s wrong?” his mother flung the door open. She was barefoot and wearing her nightgown. She must have been awakened by his shouting. She shoved Uncle Zachary hard. He offered no resistance and tumbled backward into the dresser against the wall knocking over the pictures of his family that Artemis kept there. “Get out of here Zachary leave my boy alone.”
“Sarah, he’s ok, just tired is all,” Zachary offered, his hands palm up in a gesture of apology. “Artemis? Your alright, aren’t you son?”
“I told you get out! Get out! Leave him alone. Leave all of us alone.” Mother had her arms around Artemis and was running her fingers through his hair.
Thoughts of the water had completely vanished from Artemis’ mind as if they had never existed.
“Artemis, I’ll be back in a day, two tops, we can talk more then.” Uncle’s eyes were wide. He looked at Artemis like a scolded puppy who was trying to get back in its owners good graces.
“Get out I said!” Mother’s cries were loud enough to wake the entire household. Father came in to see what all the commotion was about but seeing that Artemis was alright, dashed out just as quickly, off to confront Uncle Zachary who had fled down the hall to his room. Grandma and Grandpa broke in. She looked concerned, he looked ready to fight.
Artemis’ fear was slowly subsiding now as he stood there in his room. Mother’s arms were wrapped around him and she was rocking gently back and forth. Uncle’s boots thumped heavily down the stairs and he heard Father’s footsteps trailing close behind. There were shouts and accusations between the two of them that spilled out into the night and then the downstairs door slammed shut.
Tongues throughout the village wagged with gossip after that night. There were stories about how Uncle Zachary had become completely unhinged, how he became violent and wound up in a knockdown drag out fight with Father. The neighbors, ever vigilant to the slightest whiff of scandal, had been awakened by the loud argument. They swore up and down to anyone who would listen that they heard Uncle Zachary had to be sedated with a tranquilizer gun and was carted away to a mental institution.
Artemis had always wondered what his father said to his uncle that night. Did he threaten Uncle Zachary? Did he tell him to leave and never come back? Artemis couldn’t honestly blame Father if he had. Artemis knew he was the one who had caused all the trouble, it was his yelling that caused Mother to panic. He had placed the dragon’s tooth at the back of his dresser drawer under a pile of clothes he had outgrown. He wasn’t sure he ever wanted to hold it in his hand again afraid that it might cause him to repeat his strange spell. Besides looking at it only brought back terrible memories. Even after all this time he still hadn’t come to grips with his behavior that night. Yes, Uncle Zachary had acted unusually strange. But Artemis refused to believe his uncle was dangerous or that he would ever do anything to hurt him.
It was now the morning of his eleventh birthday and Artemis found himself standing outside Uncle Zachary’s room. His door was left open, now that he was no longer living here, and as Artemis leaned against the door frame his eyes wandered around the room. Uncle Zachary’s room went untouched for a long time after he left but eventually Grandma couldn’t stand the thought of not tidying up. She dusted and ran the vacuum cleaner over the rug. Uncle Zachary never had much furniture to speak of. There was his bed and somewhere next to it, buried under a stack of old papers, a nightstand. Grandma had collected them all and bundled them neatly with string. Grandpa burned them. Across the room was his bookcase filled with all of his old favorites standing next to the old weathered trunk.
The sun was streaming in through the window and Artemis noticed the specs of dust that the sun revealed floating in the air. He stepped into the room and ran his hand through the air. The breeze it created made the dust specs swirl. He thought back to something his uncle had said that night about how there were hundreds of other worlds all around us. He wondered, “What if all the tiny specs of dust hanging in the air were separate worlds all of their own. They’re here all around us and we never notice them.” He stood there plowing through the dust with his arm like some all powerful God cutting a path through the universe. He walked over to the bookcase. He ran his fingers down the pebbled spine of an old book. He felt the bumpy texture and wondered what his uncle would say about it. Maybe Uncle Zachary would tell him that the cover was leather made from dinosaur hide and then spin some fantastic story all about how he came to own it. He missed hearing those stories so much.
Artemis scanned the bookcase. His eyes fell upon his uncle’s copy of “The Lost World.” He remembered how his uncle kept the key to his old trunk hidden there. “Page 117,” he whispered to himself. As if to check and see if his memory was correct he took the book down and opened it.
“There it is just the way I remembered,” he thought. Artemis turned the key over in his fingers and began to picture his uncle here in the room with him, telling him some far fetched story about an impossible trip he had taken. His heart ached. He thought about the worthless junk his Uncle Zachary had kept under lock and key as if it was the most valuable treasure on earth. He knelt down in front of the old trunk and ran his hands across its rough wooden top. He felt the ribs that ran down the sides and gazed down at the green, tarnished lock. He couldn’t help but think about the marvelous and worthless old things that must be hidden away inside. Artemis knew that every one held memories of Uncle Zachary more precious than gemstones.
“I’m going to open it.” The thought made him jump slightly as it popped into his mind. He never would have dreamed in a million years of unlocking Uncle Zachary’s trunk, of going into his personal things. “But uncle isn’t here anymore so what difference could it possibly make now?” he thought. He had no intention of actually taking anything. He simply wanted to see his uncle’s peculiar collection again. “They’ll help me to remember some of the stories he told me,” Artemis thought.
He slipped the key into the brass lock and gave it a quick, sharp turn. The lock jumped open. He slid it from the hasp and set it on the floor next to him. Taking the lid of the trunk in both hands he slowly tilted it backward as the hinge creaked loudly. His heart was pounding. He started to have second thoughts about what he was doing but decided there was no going back now. He closed his eyes and leaned forward over the open trunk. Immediately the mysterious scents of the ancient and legendary objects that the trunk had held over the years enveloped Artemis and his imagination took hold.
Images began to flash through his mind. There was a redolence of leather, sweat stained, dark and smoky and the primeval pungency of the mammoth fur. Hot desert sands blew through the room. He smelled the incense infused wrappings of Egyptian mummies as high priests chanted in the torchlight and entombed them in their royal sarcophagi. The room became cool and green with a sweet fragrance of lavender and roses woven into a crown and worn at the victory celebration with the gnomes of Carlswell Glen. Wind now whipped his face. He smelled the varnished canvas of a spidery wing as helped the Wright brothers push their latest aeronautic attempt into the air at Kitty Hawk. The metallic clang of sword on shield rang in his ears as he picked up the faintest hint of oiled chain mail worn as protection against the Black Knight.
The anticipation of all the old chest held was overwhelming for Artemis. He eagerly opened his eyes to survey the treasured objects inside. The trunk was empty.
Artemis was in a state of shock. “Where could all of Uncle Zachary’s treasure have gone to?” he wondered. “There was no way Uncle Zachary could have carried all this away with him when he left, he ran off too suddenly, he wouldn’t have had time to pack it all before he left. Could Father have cleaned out the trunk? After all,” Artemis thought, “If I found the key’s hiding place it only stood to reason Father might have. Or Grandma. She might have stumbled upon the trunk’s key when she was cleaning. It wasn’t the most secure hiding place after all.”
As if to erase all doubt about what he had seen, or not seen, he looked in again. This time he noticed something he hadn’t before. There was something in the corner. In the soft morning light he had failed to see it at first. He reached his hand in the trunk and pulled out a light blue colored envelope. It appeared to contain a ticket of some kind wrapped in a piece of note paper. On the outside was a hastily scrawled message in his uncle’s handwriting that read: For Artemis. To be opened upon the event of my disappearance.
Part 2 (Chapters 3 &4)
Chapter 1: Uncle Zachary
Artemis Brazewell lived with his family in Charleswood a sleepy village tucked away in a far corner of the Highlands. The village had been established by merchants and traders to service a once heavily trafficked passageway through the hills, a path that had long since been abandoned in favor of a more direct route. It was a time-honored place and the well established families living there had handed homes down from generation to generation, They were a tight knit group who knew everyone’s face and name and business. Few out of town people ever made it as far north as Charleswood and most of the people living there liked it that way.
The homes and cottages of the village were as proper in nature as their occupants. Most of the buildings here were constructed of the grey stone that composed so much of the countryside giving them a mottled grey exterior. They tended to have a conservative if weary look as a result and never more so than now, in the fall, a blustery time of year when trees went bare and the skies descended to the ground in soft, damp swirls.
Artemis had a bedroom upstairs in the ramshackle old cottage he shared with the rest of his family on the poor fringe of town. Because his room was upstairs it had a very low ceiling that slanted down towards its one window. The window’s small square panes of glass peeked out across the slate rooftop, through the twisted black branches of a tall oak tree, to the grey cobblestone street below. Across from his bedroom was Uncle Zachary’s room. Mother and Father shared the bedroom at the end of the hall.
He and his family were notorious creatures of habit. Mother and Father would get up every morning, put the old, chipped coffee pot on, get dressed, and head off to work. Grandma and Grandpa stayed home and, “held down the fort,” as Grandpa liked to say. Grandma would spend the days cooking and cleaning while Grandpa puttered around fixing this and that or working on “Thelma” his old tractor.
Artemis meanwhile, went off to school where he frequently spent his class time daydreaming through lessons on history or math or science, drifting off into a world of his own imagination. Sometimes his teacher would catch Artemis not paying attention and would jolt him back to class with the slap of the long wooden yardstick he kept handy by the side of his desk.
The days flowed by in a tick-tock rhythm of scheduled routine. They were a proper, hard working, conventional family here in Charleswood. That is, now that his Uncle Zachary was gone.
Uncle Zachary, you see, was very different from the other people in the village. He was a dirt under the nails, unashamedly, rough edged man who couldn’t help but stand out among the straightlaced residents of the town. He was tall and rangy and he let his dark hair, which was now beginning to gray, grow so long so that it touched his shoulders when it wasn’t tied back. He had a scar across his right cheek and his close cropped, dappled beard, which tended to make his face look dirty, made the scar all the more prominent. Uncle Zachary wore glasses. They had perfectly round, blue tinted lenses, which were held in place by a silver wire that extended backward from his face and curled around his ears. He explained to Artemis that was to prevent their flying off in case of a sudden movement. Exactly when Uncle Zachary expected to encounter this movement was beyond Artemis. Seeing them perched on his uncle’s long sharp nose prompted Artemis to comment hat he thought he resembled a giant owl, to which Zachary replied, “Not a bad thing, owls are a symbol of knowledge. I guess you’re sayin’ they make me look smart.”
Uncle Zachary wore a long oilskin duster whenever he left the house, a coat that couldn’t have been better designed to make him stick out like a sore thumb. It had several pockets on the inside that Uncle Zachary kept crammed with an assorted jumble of odds and ends that for some reason he considered invaluable when leaving the house. He tucked his pant legs into the tall leather boots that he wore with their double straps across the top and small pocket on the side.
“Always wear a good sturdy pair of boots,” he would say, “and never leave the house without a piece of licorice in your pocket. Gnomes love it ya’ know. Give a gnome a piece of licorice and you’ve got a friend for life.” Artemis wasn’t sure about gnomes but found that to be extremely good advice to follow as he was very fond of licorice himself.
Uncle Zachary possessed a big roaring laugh, which Artemis loved to hear, although unfortunately his uncle had a tendency to unleash it at the most inopportune of times, which certainly did nothing to add friends to a list that was awfully short to begin with. He couldn’t stand snobbery or class distinction and in a fight would enthusiastically root for the underdog even if he had no idea as to what the exchange was about and would happily join in if given half the chance.
Uncle Zachary liked to take long walks, no matter the weather, which could be very cold and damp for much of the year. “Its my thinking time,” he would explain. You could often see Uncle Zachary making his way over the rocky outcrops of the hills in his long coat, leather bag slung over his shoulder. He would walk for hours through the hills, deep in thought, oblivious to the world around him. In his mind he would be off to who knows where, his lips moving as he muttered things under his breath. If his route happened to take him through the village people would do their best to steer clear but wherever he passed by he would leave a turbulent wake of whispers and laughs trailing behind.
“Hmph. No idea of anything that exists outside of your narrow minded little world,” he would grumble as he narrowed his eyes.
Unfortunately, being average, which Zachary would never be, was considered a virtue in this staid little village and while a few kind hearts saw him as a harmless eccentric most of the villagers thought he was deranged and to be completely avoided if at all possible. As far as Artemis was concerned though, Uncle Zachary’s peculiarities were what made him so wonderful. To Artemis, he was a bold splash of color in a world drenched in grey, a breath of cool arctic air during a stale summer night.
Uncle Zachary liked to call himself a “Traveler.” He would tell Artemis all about the far flung destinations he journeyed to, even though he was never away from home for more than a day or two. These expeditions rarely seemed to be planned or have an itinerary of any sort. He would simply, “Get some hare-brained notion,” as Father would say, and then disappear into thin air, only to reappear just as suddenly.
“That’s no way for a grown man to conduct himself,” Grandma would say to Artemis as she would shake her head and sniff, “Flitting off from one place to another, like he hasn’t got a care in the world.”
“No sense at all,” Grandpa would always add, pointing a finger for emphasis. “Man his age should stay home and go to work and start acting responsible for a change.”
Artemis didn’t like to think of Uncle Zachary as irresponsible, he thought Uncle Zachary just did things his own way. He didn’t have a job, true, But then again he never asked anyone for money. He kept to a schedule, it was just very... flexible. He ate when he was hungry, slept when he was tired, came and went as he pleased and generally spent his time the way that he saw fit. That sounded sensible enough to Artemis.
Artemis knew too that his uncle had a wide range of knowledge and could converse about nearly any subject, a trait Artemis chalked up to his uncle’s nose being so often planted in a book. Uncle Zachary loved the old classics, like Robin Hood or Treasure Island. He devoured books by Bradbury and Verne, Dumas and Defoe. He once said to Artemis, as he held up a book about King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table, “Mark my words Artemis, there’s valuable information in these pages.” He even went so far one time as to claim a book about the fabled lost continent of Atlantis was research, “Background information for an upcoming trip,” he said
Given Uncle Zachary’s quirky behavior it wasn’t surprising that he possessed a very colorful imagination. He had a spectacular gift as a storyteller which unfortunately no one outside the family knew about because his nephew was the only one he would share his stories with. Artemis could sit for hours in rapt attention, listening to accounts about incredible trips to all kinds of strange places. There were tales about seeing mythological creatures or crossing swords with characters right out of those novels he read. Artemis knew his uncle had to be stretching the truth with his stories but to hear Uncle Zachary tell it every word he spoke was, “the God’s honest truth.”
Artemis marveled at the ability his uncle had to transport him to whatever place he had been to. When uncle Zachary told a story it was as if he was reliving the experience, right before your eyes, which made it seem all the more believable. His descriptions of places he traveled to and the people he met there would begin to trickle out of him at first but when he got rolling look out. The trickle would become a stream and then a river, the stories building in intensity until they became a raging flood, and Artemis loved to be immersed in it. There was no mistaking the feeling that Zachary had a total belief in every word he spoke. His accounts were extremely detailed and vibrant, the places he visited were described with such flair, that Artemis almost felt he was right there with him. His knack for storytelling was so magical that one time Artemis swore he heard the voice of Vikktor Meadius, (who his uncle had always referred to as the most despicable man in this time or any other), cursing Zachary as clearly as if he were shouting from the hall.
But his genius didn’t end there, whenever Uncle Zachary would tell Artemis a story, he would prove that it really did happen by showing him what he claimed to be irrefutable evidence of his escapade, what he referred to as the “key link” to the whole affair. This invariably would turn out to be no more than some odd bit or piece of generally worthless junk. Not that Artemis cared of course. For Artemis, spending time with Uncle Zachary, knowing that he alone was privileged enough to share in his uncle’s experiences, was worth more than any material wealth he could imagine.
It was plain to see that a strong bond had developed between Artemis and Zachary.In the few short years his uncle had lived with them they was as strong as any could be. He loved his uncle dearly and he wondered how many people were lucky enough in life to share such a friendship.
But on the other hand he also saw why the rest of the family resented the way that Uncle Zachary lived his life. Mother and Father both worked so hard just to keep a roof over their heads and food on the table. Grandma and Grandpa had both worked hard their whole lives too and even now kept at it with all the chores they did around the house. It had been years since they had taken so much as a vacation trip to the seashore and yet here was his uncle, “an oversized bum,” as Grandpa used to say, who wandered off at will bouncing around from place to place at the slightest whim.
Mother had begun to worry about Artemis spending so much time with his uncle.
“I know he likes to tell you all kinds of made up stories about his traipsing all over the world Artemis,” she said one time when she saw him leaving Uncle’s room, her arms piled high with laundry. “I’ve heard his stories. When he gets going you can hear him through the walls you know. I just hope you realize that it’s all a bunch of nonsense. He never really goes anywhere. How could he, he’s never gone long enough to? He’s just a lazy man who refuses to grow up and get a job.” She said the last part in a voice loud enough that it was obviously intended to be heard by more than just Artemis.
“Hmph. Man’s a lunatic if you ask me,” said Grandpa, who had been standing around the corner, cupping his hand to his ear so as not to miss a word. He snorted, hiked up his trousers and steamed into the next room.
Artemis hated to admit it but as he was getting older he was beginning to think that maybe they had a point. He loved his uncle dearly but there was no denying the fact that Uncle Zachary would never be considered a great role model.
“Psst. Artemis. You see this?” Uncle Zachary had motioned Artemis to come into his room one evening. He had just come back from a trip and was holding up some hairy wad of a thing between his long fingers letting it dangle as if he were a hypnotist about to put his subject under a spell. Artemis entered the room and sat down. Under the warm lamp light, his uncle’s pale blue eyes flashed wide. He had already peeled off a long piece of black licorice and now he handed it to Artemis.
It was a hunk of fur uncle was holding, long and reddish brown. It had the distinct odor of an old sweat sock that had been left to molder under the bed. “Came from a woolly mammoth,” he said in a whispered tone. “You know a tea infused with mammoth hair will cure jaundice? At least that’s what the shaman say. Sounds to me like the cure might be worse than the disease, eh?” He smiled. “Oh Artemis you should see ‘em,” You could see he was drifting off to another place as he said this, his voice filled with admiration. Artemis could see the signs. Uncle Zachary was gearing up for a rip shorter. “Huge beasts they are with murderous long tusks that they swing from side to side batterin’ to pieces anything or anyone unfortunate enough to get in their way.” Uncle Zachary stared into space as if he had been transported back to prehistoric times and was watching the whole scene unfold before him. “I’m telling ‘ya boy the ground shook when they passed by as they pounded it with those tree trunk legs of theirs,” he went on. “They travel in herds most of the time and they raised a cloud of dust that hung thick in the pale yellow air that day. So thick it made the sun burn red in the sky. Their fur is coarse and thick, you know, their hides tough as nails. This one,” and here he held up the chunk of fur, “This one was the leader, a big bull, far and away the biggest of them all.” He turned the fur over and over in his long fingers. “He would be out there, in front, leading the herd, suspicious of anything that might be a threat. He was my target. Even though their eyes aren’t the sharpest they have a powerful sense of smell. I disguised my scent with mammoth dung so they wouldn’t pick up on my bein’ nearby.” Artemis wrinkled his nose in disgust. “But otherwise I had no idea how I was gonna get close enough to get this, without gettin’ killed in the process. I circled around, keeping low to the ground and tried to size up my options, to come up with a plan of some sort. I stumbled across a dry creek bed. The ground was still soft so I dug in.” Uncle Zachary had knelt down, put his hands together and started digging through the air. “I sat there in the hole I dug amongst the flies and the lizards, watching and waiting in the blazing heat and the dust as that big bull brought the herd in my direction.” Artemis could see beads of sweat were now starting to form on Uncle Zachary’s brow. “I wasn’t foolish enough to try and bring him down with a spear, no, he’d a had me flat before I got anywhere near close enough to get off a decent throw. But the more I sat in the sweltering heat and the more I watched those colossal brutes, roasting in those heavy coats of theirs, the more it came to me. The woolly mammoth is never gonna win a marathon. You understand?” His pace quickened. “They’re fast, awful fast when they need to be but only in short bursts.” He began to pull on his lip now, his eyes intent in a trance-like gaze. Artemis swore the room was getting warmer. He began to see himself alongside his uncle. He tasted the blowing dust in his mouth. “So I thought to myself why not tire ‘em out a bit. Yeah, that’s what I’ll do. I’ll get those overstuffed mangy devils to run so hard they got no choice but to collapse in exhaustion. Get ‘em to spend their time frettin’ about how hot and tired they are instead of eyeballin’ little ol’ me, a miniscule flea flittin’ by who couldn’t possibly do ‘em no harm.” His excitement was electric. He was really on that hot dry prehistoric plain plotting to nab a piece of that mammoth just as much as he was here in his bedroom with Artemis. He grabbed Artemis’ arm with one hand and began to gesture with the other. “Now, all I needed to do was to get ‘em running, see? To light a fire under the old boy, so to speak.” Artemis saw Uncle Zachary reach down to his belt with his right hand. It looked like he was reaching down to grab the knife that he sometimes carried with him. “So I moved out from my hiding spot and...”
Just then Artemis’ mother called. “Artemis, come set the table. Dinner will be ready in a minute. And tell that Uncle of yours to come get these old boots out of the kitchen. They smell terrible.”
The spell was broken. Uncle Zachary snapped back from stalking the mammoth, back from his hiding spot in the dry creek bed, from the dust and the heat and the sun that beat down on his sweaty brow, back here, to his room. He looked at Artemis over his round glasses, blinked a few times, and then flashed a grin. “Go on then, you heard your mother, go set the table,” he said as he rubbed the sunburn on the back of his neck. “I’ll tell you the rest some other time.”
Uncle Zachary glanced at the floor, then laughed to himself and carefully wrapped the mammoth hair in a piece of tissue, set it in an old tin and placed it in his large beat up trunk. It took its place alongside all the other strange bits and pieces of his treasure, inside the old box with its dark, water stained cloth lining and tarnished green lock on the front.
Although his uncle happily shared the contents of the trunk with Artemis he knew that Uncle Zachary’s old chest was strictly off limits and was kept tightly locked whenever his uncle was not in the room with it.
Artemis was thinking about all this as he began to replay the events of last year in his head. He was sure he knew the reason Uncle Zachary had vanished:
Artemis was awakened by a dull thud from outside his room. It was the night before his tenth birthday and he lay in bed unable to sleep. He heard Uncle Zachary returning from one of his excursions. In a failed attempt to sneak in unnoticed, he had stumbled into the hall table and it made a thunk against the wall. Artemis could smell the wet earth on his uncle’s shoes and the dusty spice of faraway on his coat. He could hear his uncle tiptoe into his room and turn on the lamp. Uncle Zachary had swung the bed room door behind him as he entered but it didn’t quite close all the way so Artemis sneaked out of bed and crossed the cold tile hallway to peer in at him through the crack. Uncle Zachary laid his beat up old leather shoulder bag on the bed, (the one he had told Artemis was stitched together by the saddle maker to King Arthur). Artemis could see the initials “ZB” that were stamped into the leather as Uncle Zachary undid the front buckle and tossed the flap backward. He reached up and retrieved a copy of “The Lost World” from its spot on the top shelf of the bookcase. Artemis watched as Uncle Zachary opened the book and saw a key drop down onto the bed. His uncle then took the key over to his trunk and unlocked its big brass lock. He slowly pushed open the lid with its creaky hinge, trying to be as quiet as he could and then began to remove several objects from his bag and place them inside. When he came to the final object, some type of disk shaped piece, he held it up under the light and turned it over admiring the warm glow of its brilliant gold finish. He paused and ran his fingers across its face. There were raised figures of some kind on the front but through the small crack in the door Artemis had trouble making out exactly what they were. Uncle Zachary slipped the disk into a black velvet pouch with a gold drawstring around the top. He pulled the string tight and placed the bag gently into the trunk with all the rest. He closed the lid. The hinge creaked in protest. He let out a heavy sigh and then replaced the lock in its hasp and snapped it shut. As Uncle Zachary turned toward the door, Artemis ducked down and scampered back into bed.
He laid in bed and starred at the ceiling finding it hard to fall asleep. It would be his birthday come morning and he couldn’t wait to see if one of the items his uncle had set into the trunk was meant for him.
Artemis awoke the next day and dashed across the hall, anxious to hear what Uncle Zachary might have to say about his latest trip, instead, he found his room empty. Father told Artemis Zachary had left early to go out for a walk. Artemis waited all day for his uncle to return and was overjoyed when he saw him arrive home in time for dinner. Everyone was to gather at the kitchen table for dinner that night which in itself made it a special occasion. Artemis felt honored.
His family sang “Happy Birthday” as Mother carried in her cake which had earlier been sent into hiding in the living room. Yellow cake with vanilla frosting that Artemis had asked his mother to dye blue. He had no idea why that idea sprang to mind but he thought his uncle would appreciate the oddness of it. Grandma had folded some sheets of newspaper into party hats. When she handed one to Father he said in a mock serious tone that it would mess up his beautiful locks. Grandpa said, No problem here,” and then leaning close to Artemis said, “Cause this melon is as bald as a baby’s bottom,” and he slapped the top of his head for effect.
With the cake in front of him, candles dancing, Artemis closed his eyes and made a wish. He went to blow out the ten candles but started laughing so hard that he missed two the first time and needed a second try.
“Oh that means bad luck my boy, bad luck,” Grandpa kidded in a sing song voice.
“Oh stop with your bad luck talk,” Grandma said as she sliced Mother’s cake and relayed a piece to Father. “I’m sure whatever you wished for will come true dear,” she said to Artemis. Father set the plate down in front of Artemis on the blue and white checkered tablecloth, hugged his shoulders and said, “Happy Birthday, son.” Grandpa reached across the table for a fork, and his sweater sleeve dragged in the cake frosting. That caused another round of laughter. Embarrassed, Grandpa decided to change the subject so he reached into his sweater and pulled out a card which he handed to Artemis.
“That’s from your Grandmother and me,” he said in a clipped, formal tone.
Artemis opened the card and as he did so a coin dropped to the table.
“You put some of that away now you hear? That’s the trouble with you kids. Never save any money, it’s always spend, spend, spend. Now when I was your age I …”
“Thank you Grandma and Grandpa,” Artemis said.
“ Your welcome boy,” Grandpa smiled warmly.
Artemis looked across the table to Uncle Zachary with anticipation. He always gave Artemis something from one of his trips and although the gifts never had any real value, like a gold coin does, Artemis couldn’t wait to see what Uncle Zachary had brought for him this time, especially after watching him unload his new treasure through the crack in the bedroom door the previous night.
“What? What are you looking at me for? Oh so you think I brought you something do you? A birthday present perhaps?” Uncle Zachary smiled, “Ah, ‘course I did. I couldn’t forget the birthday of my favorite nephew now could I?” He reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out a long leather loop on the middle of which dangled a tapered cream colored object. The object had shallow tan grooves running down from the top, which was ringed with a gold band. There was an eye on the end through which ran the leather cord.
“You see this Artemis my boy?” Uncle said, as he held the object up in his large hand. “This,” he paused for emphasis, “is a dragon’s tooth.”
“Oh brother, here we go,” said Grandpa, as his bald head dropped down into his brown spotted hands. “He gives the kid a polished rock and tells him some cockamamie story about a make believe animal. When are you going to give this stuff a rest Zachary?”
“Crazy stories. All the time with your crazy stories,” said Grandma, as she shook her hands in the air.
“Zachary really,” scolded Mother, “don’t you think the boy is getting a little old for your nonsense?”
“Now Sarah,” said my father. “It’s only a little fun.” And then he turned to Uncle and said, “But really Zachary don’t you think he’s a little old for fairy tales? I know you should be.”
Uncle Zachary reddened at Father’s remark. He handed his present to Artemis and they all ate their cake in uncomfortable silence.
Mother and Father, Grandma and Grandpa decided to have coffee in the living room after they finished. Grandpa switched on the tv. Uncle Zachary and Artemis stayed behind at the table, Artemis anxious to hear what kind of wild tales he had in store after last night not to mention what he must have to say about a dragon’s tooth.
“Do you like the present Artemis?” Uncle Zachary asked.
“It’s fantastic, Artemis replied. “How did you get this Uncle Zachary? Tell me the story”
“How I came by the dragon’s tooth isn’t important.”
“Isn’t important? Artemis couldn’t believe what he had just heard. “But I can’t wait to hear what you must have done to get it. Did you have to disguise your scent and sneak up on him? Like you did with the mammoth? Or did you…”
“ Artemis listen…”
“Or maybe you climbed on its back and hung on as it flew off.” Artemis made flapping motions with his arms. “It could fly right? Don’t dragons have wings, can’t they fly...”
“Yes, yes, it had wings. It’s from a Mesa Dragon they’re some of the best fliers that ever lived, but stop, listen to me boy.”
“What about fire? Did it breath fire I know it must have. I bet…”
Bang! Uncle Zachary pounded his fist on the table.
“What was that? asked Mother from the other room. “Is everything alright in there?”
“Fine. We’re... I uh... just swatted a mosquito that’s all,” said Uncle.
“ A mosquito? I bet they’re coming in through that hole in the screen door that I asked you to fix dear,” said Grandma. “You should just replace the whole thing. It’s so old.”
“Replace the door?” Grandpa said. “Do you know how hard it is to find a wood screen door like that? They don’t make ‘em like that anymore believe you me. Why...”
Grandpa’s voice droned on in the other room as Uncle Zachary looked intently at Artemis.
“Artemis, now listen to me. I want you to take this in your hand and close your fingers around it tightly.” Artemis took the dragon’s tooth in his hand as Uncle closed his own tightly over it.
“Now clear your mind. Don’t think about anything.”
“But how do I not think about anything? As soon as you tell me not to think about anything I start to think about something.”
“ Artemis!” Uncle Zachary’s voice rose and he gripped his hand tighter. “OK. ok, now, now just relax.” His grip loosened a bit. He grinned nervously. “Just concentrate on the tooth, ok? If you can’t think of nothing think of that.”
Artemis did as his uncle instructed him to. He started thinking about the tooth in his hand. It was smooth and cool to the touch. He could feel the tan grooves and some ridges too. He noticed a rough edge on one side, small serrations that he didn’t see before. And now a tingling sensation began to emanate from the tooth. It began to vibrate, slowly at first and then faster and faster. The vibrations spread from his hand up into his arm. Soon his entire body began to vibrate, to hum. Then slowly the tooth started to fade from his mind. He started to feel a floating sensation as if he were being lifted from his body. He looked down and could see himself sitting there at the kitchen table. He could see that his uncle had let go of his hand, no longer gripping it in his own. Uncle Zachary started to fall away as well, it all started to fall away, his uncle, the kitchen. He felt as if he were no longer in the house at all. Suddenly colors began to rush into his mind, blues and greens that fanned out in wide arcs. He became part of a dazzling kaleidoscope of light that blinded him with its intensity as it flashed through his mind, faster, faster, faster. His body now hummed and pulsed like the buzz of a thousand bees. He felt electric. He saw glimpses of faces fly by. He saw strange towns and scenery that he had never seen before. It was like looking out the window of the fastest train imaginable. Everything became no more than a blur. Flashing lights, the rushing sensation, his heart jumping, his body thrumming. He felt like he was about to explode and then... Blackness. Nothing. He was bathed in nothingness. As his body continued its frantic throbbing he began to see points of light begin to emerge. Stars shone all around him. It was frightening and beautiful and altogether overwhelming. He had the feeling of being all alone under the starry sky and yet he felt that he had somehow become a part of everything. He felt a current flowing through him and out of him, a rhythmic current that he could feel flowed through all creation. The universe was flooding through his veins and he through it.
In the distance he heard something. A voice called out to him,, faint at first and then stronger.
“ Artemis? Artemis?”
It was his uncle’s voice. Artemis blinked. He was back sitting at the kitchen table, his elbow red from pressing hard on the checkered tablecloth, his hand still clutching the dragon’s tooth. Uncle Zachary was there again, sitting across the table from him, moving his head back and forth, up and down, as if trying to determine if Artemis was real or an illusion. Then his uncle smiled a knowing smile and said, “Would you like another piece of cake?”
Chapter 2: The Secret
Father walked in quickly from the living room. “Did the lights dim in here too?” he was looking at Artemis when he asked the question. Father noticed a blank, faraway look on Artemis’ face and then his eyes drifted down to Artemis’ hand. He still held the dragon’s tooth but his fingers had relaxed and it was now exposed, gleaming under the pendant light which hung over the kitchen table. Father paused, looked as if adding some numbers in his head, and then he turned and looked at Uncle Zachary.
“What’s going on in here?’ Father asked suspiciously. Artemis could see out of the corner of his eye that father wasn’t paying any attention to the coffee cup he was holding. It tipped and drops of coffee began falling onto Grandma’s freshly scrubbed floor. Father was taller than the light that hung over the kitchen table so his face remained in the shadows. Artemis could see past his father to his mother and grandparents, blue in the television’s glow.
“Not a thing Nicholas, not a thing. I was just tellin’ the boy one of my stories, that all. Just another “tall tale.” You know, “Brave Uncle Zachary snaggin’ that dragon’s “tooth” there.” Zachary said the word “tooth” with extra emphasis, and made curling motions with his fingers, as if he were trying to say that the tooth was a fake, something made up, like it was merely a painted piece of wood or a long polished stone and not a dragon’s tooth at all. Zachary slouched a bit in his chair in an attempt to look laid back and indifferent.
“Zachary I thought we agreed that you were going to stop telling Artemis all those fairy tales of yours,” Father said in a firm, icy tone and he came up close pressing into the edge of the table.
“I know Nicholas, I know. Nothing to worry about,” said Zachary, the pitch of his voice rising, the faintest blush spreading over his face. “Just havin’ a little fun. That’s it. Honest.” he tossed his hand in the air as if tossing away a gum wrapper. “Just another one of Uncle Zachary’s silly stories, right Arty? You know they’re all make believe now, right?
Uncle Zachary never called Artemis “Arty,” he knew how much Artemis disliked being called that. What exactly was happening here? Artemis’ mind was still swimming after his hallucination, or vision, or whatever it was that had taken place. “Clearly Uncle was behind it all because he didn’t want Father to find out,” he thought. “Right?” Artemis’ could feel a headache beginning to creep up from the back of his head and his fingers were still tingling. Uncle Zachary slouched down in his chair.
“I have to say Father,” Artemis said as he jerked a thumb toward Zachary, “it was one of his crazier stories. He was trying to act casual himself but it came off as more like antsy. He had decided to go along with his uncle’s lie for the time being but he thought Uncle Zachary had better have a good explanation.
“I mean, c’mon Uncle Zachary, it was a dark and stormy night as you stole a dragon from the king’s own stables.” Artemis rolled his eyes. “And that stuff about riding him across the mountains with the entire army searching for you down below with their torches and their spears.” Artemis had just now made the story up and yet as he said the words he had the distinct feeling that he had heard the story before. It was almost as if someone else were sitting in his head, feeding his mind the words he was speaking. Uncle Zachary had begun shaking his head back and forth and was motioning with his hands for Artemis to stop talking. Father’s head swiveled around to peer at Zachary who had instantly stopped shaking his head and had begun instead to shrug his shoulders, sheepishly, as if apologizing to Father for telling Artemis that such a thing could have actually happened. He slouched down further. If he slouched any more he would slide under the table completely.
“Really Uncle Zack, I think I’m getting a little old for this stuff.” His uncle raised his brow as to say, “Is that so?” Artemis knew his Uncle hated to be called Zack. His father’s face was sketchy in the darkness but Artemis thought his expression appeared to be one of disbelief.
Father glanced back and forth between the two of them. Artemis couldn’t tell if Father was buying all this or not. But then Father’s face began to soften and relax and apparently satisfied, he said, “Well ok then. Anyone for another piece of cake?”
The minute his father left the room Artemis turned to his uncle and hissed, “What was that all about and what just happened to me? ”
Uncle Zachary grabbed the front of his chair and slid around the table, tight to Artemis, in one swift move. “That dragon story you just told your father, very strange, I don’t remember telling you that one.” Uncle Zachary looked puzzled and serious. “But I guess I must have, eh? In any case if you’re gonna tell it, get it right, he was a prince not a king. Anyway, didn’t want your father to guess what we was up to, although I’m not sure we convinced him.” He stole a look into the living room.
Artemis had no idea what Uncle Zachary was talking about. In the living room Grandma was complaining that there was never anything good on tv and Grandpa was loudly suggesting that they should, “Toss the dang thing out.” Father kept cycling through the channels with the remote as Mother sipped her coffee.
Uncle Zachary seemed content that they wouldn’t be overheard. “So, go on, tell me, what was it like?” Uncle Zachary asked, looking over those round glasses of his. “Been a long time since my first connection.”
“First connection?” Artemis had no clue as to what Uncle Zachary could possibly be talking about.
“That’s right connection. Let me guess, you felt tingly all over like you stuck you finger in the wall socket.”
“How did you know?” Artemis asked. Uncle Zachary was grinning ear to ear.
“And then you began to kind of drift off?” he leaned back in his chair and wiggled the fingers on his hands as he moved them up and apart.
“Yeah. I felt like I had left the kitchen but that I was still here at the same time.” Artemis had both of his hands on the table, gripping it as if afraid he might drift off again at any moment.
Uncle Zachary let out a snort of glee. “Left but still here, good way to put it. Did you feel a rushing sensation? Kinda like being in the middle of a fast moving current?”
“Sort of. More like I was riding on a speeding train or something. And then it all went black, until I saw the stars.”
“Stars huh, Well how about that. Went all the way back to the beginning. You have a true talent boy, but what Brazewell didn’t eh?” Uncle Zachary poked him with his elbow.
Artemis was more confused than ever. Mother walked into the room just then carrying a stack of coffee cups to set in the sink. Uncle Zachary sprang up from his chair and said, Let me help you with the dishes then, eh Sara?” and then turned to Artemis and with his finger to his lips gave Artemis a knowing wink and a nod.
Later that evening after everyone had gone to bed Uncle Zachary slipped into Artemis’ room closing the door softly behind him. He glanced down the hall, his big hand cradling the knob, turning it slowly so the latch made no noise. Artemis couldn’t remember the last time his uncle had been in his room. He was wearing his long oilskin coat and it was packed to the hilt. He could smell licorice. He guessed Uncle was planning to go away again tonight.
“I have to leave soon so you need to listen carefully to what I have to tell you. It’s important. Maybe the most important thing you’ll ever hear. But you must promise me that it will never leave this room,” Uncle Zachary spoke in a low hushed voice.
The experience tonight at the kitchen table had left Artemis feeling shaky. He was confused and sure that if his head spun any faster it would fly off his body completely. It didn’t sound right to Artemis that he should keep this from his parents but then again, he had always trusted his uncle as much as he trusted anyone. “Uncle Zachary must have good reason for keeping this a secret,” he thought. He decided to at least hear his uncle out. Artemis reluctantly nodded in agreement.
“Artemis do you remember earlier this evening, in the kitchen, when I told you that you had “connected” for the first time?”
“Yes but I have no idea what you meant,” Artemis replied. “Connected to what?”
“In a nutshell, to the heart and soul of the entire universe, the Continuum.” Uncle Zachary beamed. It was obvious that he was thrilled to be telling him this. It was like he was making Artemis a member of his secret club.
“Heart and soul of the universe.” Artemis had no idea what to make of that. This was one of Uncle’s stranger stories for sure. “You’re telling me that I connected myself to the heart of the universe. Sitting at our kitchen table?”
“Yep. In your kitchen, your bedroom, in your underwear at three am on the other side of the world. Makes no difference. Distance doesn’t matter because there is no distance, not where the Continuum is concerned. It’s all around us. We’re awash in the Continuum no matter where in the universe we are. We can’t see it or measure it, but it’s there just the same. We connect with it from time to time, especially if we have the right mindset, the right equipment, and the the right, um, talent shall we say?” Uncle Zachary gave the unmistakable impression that he meant Artemis had this “talent” as he rubbed his hands together briskly.
“The Continuum,” Artemis repeated flatly. His uncle had told him a lot of way out stuff in the past and Artemis had happily gone along with it, pretending that the stories really happened. That was all part of the game they played, right? But Artemis couldn’t help thinking this felt different. Uncle Zachary was going too far this time. And what did this have to do with what had happened to him earlier tonight?
“Uncle w-what are you talking about?”Artemis asked, slightly scared to hear the answer. He felt that strange quiver again down deep inside.
“The Continuum, Artemis, is a type of energy, a pure, near conscious energy, that has existed since the universe was born. When that first spark ignited and the entire cosmos exploded out in all directions, creating everything we know, the Continuum was created alongside it. It’s present everywhere, it flows through all of time and space, in every world.” His uncle looked as if he were seeing miles into the distance as his hand made a broad sweep across the room. “And seeing as how we’re humans you and I, we have a very special gift. Being humans means that we get to connect to the Continuum. We get to experience, for even just that tiniest fraction of a second, the power of that energy.”
Artemis was completely baffled and more than a little nervous. If what he felt before in the kitchen was a “connection”, that strange, rushing, electrical buzzing feeling, it was a gift he wanted no part of. He began to get fidgety.
Uncle Zachary continued, talking faster as he began to get more and more excited. “A connection may only last for the briefest of moments, but in that split second, we can feel its flow, the power of its energy. We forge a link to all that has ever been or ever will be. It’s an incredibly powerful moment, as you yourself now know, and the resonance it leaves behind lasts forever. Most people, when they bridge the gap, claim to have had a flash of insight, an inspiration. Painters, poets, musicians, the people we consider to be the most creative and brilliant are connecting although most have no idea what’s going on behind the scenes. Hey, even those poor persons with no imaginations at all make a connection now and again. It’s what happens when we dream.”
Artemis thought about how he was always having the most incredibly vivid dreams.
“Different people have different facilities naturally, just like any other talent. The ones who have the greatest natural ability to connect we typically think of as geniuses. Einstein for example, it’s clear he connected on a regular basis, that’s for sure. And DaVinci? well, he connected so often he nearly became a full fledged Traveler and that would have been a first, eh? Someone not born to The Guild. Amazing man DaVinci. Did you know he actually had the most infantile sense of humor, real prankster that one.” Uncle Zachary was looking down and had a wistful smile on his face as if remembering a particular time spent with a long lost friend. “Did you know the Mona Lisa is really a self portrait? Minus the beard of course. I chuckle to myself every time I see it. Ah that Leo.”
Artemis didn’t know what to make of all this. His uncle had told so many crazy stories all through the years but they were more like fairy tales or mythology. This was different.
“But no matter how adept a person may be when it comes to reaching out to the Continuum no one can make the connection for long enough on their own to really exploit all it’s promise. Not even the greatest Master Travelers, and by the way, you happen to be looking at one, Master Traveler that is,” Uncle Zachary arched his brows, stood up proudly and made a sweeping motion with his hand. “That’s what we call those of us that are able to access the Continuum to travel to wherever we please. ‘Course you need a resonator. If you want to travel anywhere. You know, physically, I mean”
“A resonator? Master Traveler?” This was getting stranger by the minute.
“Yeah, thats right. Look, remember how I said that when you connect to the Continuum the resulting force leaves behind what I called a resonance? That’s a kind of residual energy left behind from the Continuum. It varies in strength and can be contained in almost anything. Those objects, the ones that contain a useful resonance, are called links. “Resonant links” to be formal about it but links will do. That dragon’s tooth you held tonight, the one that helped you to connect? That’s a link, and a pretty powerful one at that, judging by your description of the experience, eh?” He stroked his whiskers. “The resonant energy in that one, whoo, must be off the charts. Still, not enough to get the job done if you really want to get anywhere. If you want to travel through time or to other worlds.”
“Travel through time.”
“That’s right, through time.” Uncle Zachary read the disbelief on Artemis’ face. “Oh don’t look at me like that, I’ve told you for years about how I traveled back and forth through time. Did you really think I was just makin’ all that up? Ok, granted some of it may have been “enhanced.” That stuff about me and Catherine the Great, a bit exaggerated, I’ll give you that.” Zachary blushed, “ But Artemis most of the stories I’ve told you are true. I really have traveled through time and space and so can you. All it takes is a resonator and the proper link. You have to believe me.”
There was no doubt that Uncle Zachary believed every word he was speaking.
“A resonant link allows you to follow its energy path backwards, it enables you to make a connection to the Continuum at that key’s moment of creation Well more or less. Fun? Of course. But useful? Mmm... not so much. You may get a jolt of inspired thought or a creative boost. Not a bad thing, but if you want to engage the Continuum for any duration at all, to be able to physically reach a chosen destination and have the ability to stay there, in other words to travel, than you need an amplifier of sorts, and that’s the device we call a resonator. By placing the proper link into a resonator the energy it contains gets multiplied and the person holding the resonator makes a connection, not a connection like you did tonight, or when you have those incredible dreams of yours, but a truly physical connection, a bridge to a very specific place and time in the Continuum. In this world or any other.”
“Any other? You mean you think you can go to another planet? Like Jupiter or something?”
“Another planet? No, that’s absurd. You’re kidding right? There’s no resonator I know of that could ever be that powerful. No I mean another world right here. There’s hundreds of them you know. All around us. Physicists like to call them parallel universes.”
Artemis’ stomach was flip flopping, he felt slightly nauseous. All this talk about resonance and energy and traveling to parallel worlds, this wasn’t like any story his uncle had told before. For the first time in his life Artemis began to feel uneasy being with his uncle. He began to feel cold, he thought he could feel himself getting pale. He imagined water started streaming into the room. It began to wash over his feet.
Uncle Zachary thought Artemis looked slightly green around the gills. He reached out with both hands and took him by the arms.
“You alright boy?” he asked. He put a hand under Artemis’ chin and gently lifted his head. Artemis couldn’t face him right now and looked down. “Hey, I know it’s a bit of a load to take in especially all at once. It was never my intention to tell you this way but I’m leavin’ tonight and I didn’t want to go without explaining things to you.”
Artemis had become very uncomfortable. He still felt a trembling deep inside somewhere from the incident in the kitchen. He was worried that his uncle was really losing it. He had always thought his uncle was strange but harmless. Now he wasn’t so sure about that last part. Uncle Zachary must have had something to do with what had happened earlier, but what? Artemis wondered if his uncle had given him something to make him feel the way he had, to see those things. It was a horrible thought and Artemis hated himself for thinking it. How could he imagine such a terrible thing was even possible? But he couldn’t help it. He felt embarrassed and scared all at the same time. If his uncle could do something like that what else was he capable of? Panic was rising in his body. It rose faster than the water that he imagined was now flowing freely all around him.
Suddenly he didn’t want to be here, in his room, with his uncle. The walls of his room were closing in, it was suffocating, hot. There was a part of him that wanted to shut out the world, a desire to simply close his eyes and fall backward, to submerge himself in the rush of water that he could now feel spreading out in all directions, becoming an ocean in his room as the walls faded from his sight. He imagined his body changing. His fingers were lengthening, becoming beams of blue light, shooting out into space. They touched ancient trees, and he felt the wind blowing through their branches. There was a primeval force beckoning to him, appealing to something basic, deep down inside. It was safe and reassuring and he longed to be a part of it, as if it was where he belonged. He could become one with the water, exploding outward into a million tiny particles that spread into every last corner of time and space.
But there was another part of his mind that felt scared, that feared the water. It jerked him back to his room and told him the water was dangerous that he had to resist its pull, that his very survival depended on it.
“Let me go, let me go,” he burst out.
“Artemis? Artemis? What’s wrong? Ah, still feeling the effects of your earlier connection I’ll bet. It’s alright, it’s just a bit of post travel fatigue, we all go through it the first time we use a key to make a connection,” his uncle said with a laugh. “It’ll fade away soon enough and then...
“Take your hands off me! Leave me alone!” Artemis yelled. The anxiety in him had spread. The water was so close, so inviting. But the fear in him was strong. It protectively walled off his thoughts of the water, and hid them in a dark corner of his mind where they might be forgotten. All his attention could now be focused back on his uncle and his room. He felt weak and his knees began to buckle.
“Artemis what’s wrong?” his mother flung the door open. She was barefoot and wearing her nightgown. She must have been awakened by his shouting. She shoved Uncle Zachary hard. He offered no resistance and tumbled backward into the dresser against the wall knocking over the pictures of his family that Artemis kept there. “Get out of here Zachary leave my boy alone.”
“Sarah, he’s ok, just tired is all,” Zachary offered, his hands palm up in a gesture of apology. “Artemis? Your alright, aren’t you son?”
“I told you get out! Get out! Leave him alone. Leave all of us alone.” Mother had her arms around Artemis and was running her fingers through his hair.
Thoughts of the water had completely vanished from Artemis’ mind as if they had never existed.
“Artemis, I’ll be back in a day, two tops, we can talk more then.” Uncle’s eyes were wide. He looked at Artemis like a scolded puppy who was trying to get back in its owners good graces.
“Get out I said!” Mother’s cries were loud enough to wake the entire household. Father came in to see what all the commotion was about but seeing that Artemis was alright, dashed out just as quickly, off to confront Uncle Zachary who had fled down the hall to his room. Grandma and Grandpa broke in. She looked concerned, he looked ready to fight.
Artemis’ fear was slowly subsiding now as he stood there in his room. Mother’s arms were wrapped around him and she was rocking gently back and forth. Uncle’s boots thumped heavily down the stairs and he heard Father’s footsteps trailing close behind. There were shouts and accusations between the two of them that spilled out into the night and then the downstairs door slammed shut.
Tongues throughout the village wagged with gossip after that night. There were stories about how Uncle Zachary had become completely unhinged, how he became violent and wound up in a knockdown drag out fight with Father. The neighbors, ever vigilant to the slightest whiff of scandal, had been awakened by the loud argument. They swore up and down to anyone who would listen that they heard Uncle Zachary had to be sedated with a tranquilizer gun and was carted away to a mental institution.
Artemis had always wondered what his father said to his uncle that night. Did he threaten Uncle Zachary? Did he tell him to leave and never come back? Artemis couldn’t honestly blame Father if he had. Artemis knew he was the one who had caused all the trouble, it was his yelling that caused Mother to panic. He had placed the dragon’s tooth at the back of his dresser drawer under a pile of clothes he had outgrown. He wasn’t sure he ever wanted to hold it in his hand again afraid that it might cause him to repeat his strange spell. Besides looking at it only brought back terrible memories. Even after all this time he still hadn’t come to grips with his behavior that night. Yes, Uncle Zachary had acted unusually strange. But Artemis refused to believe his uncle was dangerous or that he would ever do anything to hurt him.
It was now the morning of his eleventh birthday and Artemis found himself standing outside Uncle Zachary’s room. His door was left open, now that he was no longer living here, and as Artemis leaned against the door frame his eyes wandered around the room. Uncle Zachary’s room went untouched for a long time after he left but eventually Grandma couldn’t stand the thought of not tidying up. She dusted and ran the vacuum cleaner over the rug. Uncle Zachary never had much furniture to speak of. There was his bed and somewhere next to it, buried under a stack of old papers, a nightstand. Grandma had collected them all and bundled them neatly with string. Grandpa burned them. Across the room was his bookcase filled with all of his old favorites standing next to the old weathered trunk.
The sun was streaming in through the window and Artemis noticed the specs of dust that the sun revealed floating in the air. He stepped into the room and ran his hand through the air. The breeze it created made the dust specs swirl. He thought back to something his uncle had said that night about how there were hundreds of other worlds all around us. He wondered, “What if all the tiny specs of dust hanging in the air were separate worlds all of their own. They’re here all around us and we never notice them.” He stood there plowing through the dust with his arm like some all powerful God cutting a path through the universe. He walked over to the bookcase. He ran his fingers down the pebbled spine of an old book. He felt the bumpy texture and wondered what his uncle would say about it. Maybe Uncle Zachary would tell him that the cover was leather made from dinosaur hide and then spin some fantastic story all about how he came to own it. He missed hearing those stories so much.
Artemis scanned the bookcase. His eyes fell upon his uncle’s copy of “The Lost World.” He remembered how his uncle kept the key to his old trunk hidden there. “Page 117,” he whispered to himself. As if to check and see if his memory was correct he took the book down and opened it.
“There it is just the way I remembered,” he thought. Artemis turned the key over in his fingers and began to picture his uncle here in the room with him, telling him some far fetched story about an impossible trip he had taken. His heart ached. He thought about the worthless junk his Uncle Zachary had kept under lock and key as if it was the most valuable treasure on earth. He knelt down in front of the old trunk and ran his hands across its rough wooden top. He felt the ribs that ran down the sides and gazed down at the green, tarnished lock. He couldn’t help but think about the marvelous and worthless old things that must be hidden away inside. Artemis knew that every one held memories of Uncle Zachary more precious than gemstones.
“I’m going to open it.” The thought made him jump slightly as it popped into his mind. He never would have dreamed in a million years of unlocking Uncle Zachary’s trunk, of going into his personal things. “But uncle isn’t here anymore so what difference could it possibly make now?” he thought. He had no intention of actually taking anything. He simply wanted to see his uncle’s peculiar collection again. “They’ll help me to remember some of the stories he told me,” Artemis thought.
He slipped the key into the brass lock and gave it a quick, sharp turn. The lock jumped open. He slid it from the hasp and set it on the floor next to him. Taking the lid of the trunk in both hands he slowly tilted it backward as the hinge creaked loudly. His heart was pounding. He started to have second thoughts about what he was doing but decided there was no going back now. He closed his eyes and leaned forward over the open trunk. Immediately the mysterious scents of the ancient and legendary objects that the trunk had held over the years enveloped Artemis and his imagination took hold.
Images began to flash through his mind. There was a redolence of leather, sweat stained, dark and smoky and the primeval pungency of the mammoth fur. Hot desert sands blew through the room. He smelled the incense infused wrappings of Egyptian mummies as high priests chanted in the torchlight and entombed them in their royal sarcophagi. The room became cool and green with a sweet fragrance of lavender and roses woven into a crown and worn at the victory celebration with the gnomes of Carlswell Glen. Wind now whipped his face. He smelled the varnished canvas of a spidery wing as helped the Wright brothers push their latest aeronautic attempt into the air at Kitty Hawk. The metallic clang of sword on shield rang in his ears as he picked up the faintest hint of oiled chain mail worn as protection against the Black Knight.
The anticipation of all the old chest held was overwhelming for Artemis. He eagerly opened his eyes to survey the treasured objects inside. The trunk was empty.
Artemis was in a state of shock. “Where could all of Uncle Zachary’s treasure have gone to?” he wondered. “There was no way Uncle Zachary could have carried all this away with him when he left, he ran off too suddenly, he wouldn’t have had time to pack it all before he left. Could Father have cleaned out the trunk? After all,” Artemis thought, “If I found the key’s hiding place it only stood to reason Father might have. Or Grandma. She might have stumbled upon the trunk’s key when she was cleaning. It wasn’t the most secure hiding place after all.”
As if to erase all doubt about what he had seen, or not seen, he looked in again. This time he noticed something he hadn’t before. There was something in the corner. In the soft morning light he had failed to see it at first. He reached his hand in the trunk and pulled out a light blue colored envelope. It appeared to contain a ticket of some kind wrapped in a piece of note paper. On the outside was a hastily scrawled message in his uncle’s handwriting that read: For Artemis. To be opened upon the event of my disappearance.
Part 2 (Chapters 3 &4)