Title: Written In Time
Author: TheDreamyOne
Rating: G
Type: Supernatural/Romance
Summary: An enchanted chest sparks a friendship that spans time and space.
Disclaimer: TMR and its characters belong to Universal Studios, Stephen Somers, etc. No infringements intended
A/N: This story is loosely based on a movie I saw ages ago and has somehow sprung into my head. It was called "The Love Letter" starring Scott Campbell and Jennifer Jason Leigh.
***
Chicago, IL 2003
Emerson Davis took an unsteady breath as he began ascending the stairs that led to the attic. The old stairs were as creaky as his withered bones. With each step he wondered if it were his bones or the wood creaking and cracking. Either way, he was determined to make it to the top and check on his granddaughter. She had disappeared up to the musty room hours before and he was worried about her.
Melancholy, she would steal herself away to the loft, immersing herself in her memories of her parents. They had contracted a deadly virus while on a safari in Africa and help did not arrive in time. Amber was an orphan at the age of twenty-four.
Finally he had made it to the top landing and the open attic door. He entered quietly, not wishing to startle his precious girl. He spotted her instantly, sitting by the only window, which she had opened to air out the room. A few boxes and a chest surrounded her, almost making a fort, protecting her from the perils of the unknown.
He shook his head slowly, gazing upon the timid girl, so torn by tragedy and sacrifice. She was a pretty child, kept hidden by the tortures of sorrow. It saddened him to see her like this. She had been a lively, vivacious girl and until a few years ago she was maddeningly active.
The loss of his son and daughter-in-law, almost three years ago to the day, changed her drastically. She was a strong girl and handled things almost entirely on her own. His granddaughter, his Amber Marie, gave of herself until there was little left. She had taken on every responsibility her parents left behind and paid off their debts little by little until they were gone. He had helped, of course, as much as his meager little social security and pension would allow. He kept a roof over their heads and she took care of him. Without her daily presence, he was sure he would have gone mad. The loss of his son, Mark, had been devastating. No parent should live to witness the death of their only child.
His attention turned back to Amber as she hunched over an odd chest. It was approximately two feet by three feet and its top was curved, giving it more depth. He watched as she traced the ornamental carvings with her fingertips as if fascinated by them. Her shoulder length chestnut brown hair hung forward, hiding her face from view. He could close his eyes and see her deep hazel eyes examining the object closely, memorizing every detail. Her determined jaw was most likely set and she was probably chewing on her bottom lip like she always did when she was perplexed by something. As if knowing she was being watched, she lifted her head and smiled softly at him. The smile did not reach her eyes and that knowledge broke his heart. She touched a finger to the tip of her slim nose, winked, and pointed at him as if to say, "I knew you were there, Pappy."
Amber nodded to her grandfather and took in the sight of his tired body. She felt guilty knowing she was the reason he appeared as he did at the moment. Harsh huffs of breath came again and again while he settled from his climb up the stairs. Sweat covered his withered and wrinkled brow and he ran a hand wearily through his pitch-black hair that was sprinkled with silver here and there.
"I know I've been up here too long. I'll be down shortly." When he made no move to leave her, she smiled again. He knew she would not be coming back downstairs any time soon. Instead of shooing him away, she asked, "Pap, I've never seen this chest before. Is it yours?"
He nodded and slowly lowered himself to sit on one of the larger chests nearby. "I came across that chest many, many years before you were born, Amber Marie. I was traveling through the Middle East at the time and had stopped at a bazaar in Marakesh." He smiled warmly, remembering the trip he and Amber's grandmother had taken. It was such a pity that she had not lived to know her granddaughter. "Your grandmother thought me a fool for purchasing this old chest, but it seemed to have a significance that I could not explain."
"It's simply lovely, Pappy," she exclaimed, running her hand over its textured surface. "May I open it?"
"Of course, dear. I don't even know what's in it," he admitted with a deep chuckle.
Amber lifted the latch and the chest's rusted hinges screamed out in protest as she lifted and pushed its top open. The chest was lined in cedar and its pleasant odor assaulted her nostrils the moment it was open. The contents inside were, not surprisingly, old photographs. She looked up at her grandfather, pleased at the newfound treasures of their past.
Em smiled down at her. She took such pleasure in the smallest things. "The chest is yours, Amber, as are its contents."
She struggled to her feet, her legs cramped and achy from sitting cross-legged for so many hours. Climbing over the obstacles she had arranged around her, she hugged her grandfather after he had pulled himself to a standing position. "Thank you, Pappy. It's beautiful...and I shall treasure it always."
He kissed the soft skin of her cheek and patted her arm. "Then it was a good buy after all, my dear. If it makes you smile, then it is worth a thousand times what I paid for it." He took her hand and began walking toward the door. "Let's go for a walk, Little Girl. We need some fresh air."
"Yes, sir," she answered, still smiling. She was anxious to take her gift to her room and examine it more fully. She was excited to have the chance to restore the old neglected wood to its original beauty. But first, a walk with her adored grandfather.
***
After removing the buildup of years of grime and dust, Amber sat on the floor of her bedroom painstakingly rubbing in the wood oil to restore her beautiful chest to its original luster. "Alright, my lovely. You're just perfect now."
Opening the chest, she stared at the empty space for a long time trying to decide exactly what treasures she would put inside. There were little things...things that belonged to her parents that she would always treasure. Her mother's favorite scarf, her father's favorite tie, things of that nature. She stood quickly, her intentions to go after those sentimental mementos, when she tripped over the chest, falling flat on her face, emitting a painful yelp. "God, Amber! You're such a klutz!"
She had heard the chest crash onto its side and hoped she hadn't caused any damage to it. She crawled back to it and righted it, noting there had been no harm done to its outside. However, looking inside, she saw the bottom piece of wood had come loose. Cursing softly, she reached inside and removed the wood and what her eyes fell upon stole her breath away.
Hidden inside the panel was a bundle of paper wrapped and tied by a leather cord. Her hands shook with excitement as she reached inside and touched the package. She was sure she was imagining what she was looking at. Surely they could not have been hidden for however long this chest had been in existence. She lifted the bundle gingerly; afraid the old, crispy paper would disintegrate in her hands. Thankfully, they did not fall to pieces as she carefully untied the leather string.
She unfolded paper after paper and her amazement grew with each one. Scrawled over each sheet was writing so foreign to her she could not even begin to think she would ever know the contents of the pages. It was a beautiful, languid script and she longed to know what was written. Frustrated, she packaged the papers into a protective folder and went in search of her grandfather.
After examining one sheet he had informed her that the language was Arabic in origin. He was unsure of its exact region, but suggested she take it to the foreign language professor at the University of Chicago.
Amber had agreed and left the arrangements to her grandfather. One of the perks of having been a former professor himself, he was still well acquainted with the current staff at the University. Amber's excitement grew when her grandfather told her that Professor North would see her in his office first thing in the morning.
***
"Professor North," Amber greeted upon entering his office and extended her hand. "Thank you so much for taking the time to see me."
North smiled and shook her hand. "Your grandfather said you had made a discovery of some old documents you needed translated. Arabic, perhaps?"
Amber nodded and handed him the folder. She hated releasing the pages; she felt such an attachment to them for some inexplicable reason. However, she needed to know the contents and it was not something she could do on her own. Professor North seemed a kindly man. She estimated him to be about fifty years old, his rounded belly told her he enjoyed a good meal or two and his graying hair was a bit unkempt. His eyes were warm, his smile sincere, and she felt her apprehension at leaving her precious find with him quickly disappearing. "How long do you think it will take you to translate them?"
He skimmed over the first couple pages, his eyes widening as his curiosity grew. "These are journals of some type. Perhaps just ramblings or accounts of certain activities," he stated, looking up at her. "Give me three days. We're about to go on Spring Break, so I should have plenty of time."
"Thank you, Sir." She shook his hand again. "I cannot thank you enough."
"Nonsense, Miss Davis. Your grandfather is a good friend. It is my pleasure."
With a smile and a nod, Amber left his office, leaving behind her most intriguing treasure.
***
The next morning, Amber opened the chest again and stared at the false bottom she had replaced the night before. She reached inside and gently caressed the wood. Without thinking, she removed the plank and gasped in astonishment. Inside was a single sheet of paper. On it was a short message scrawled in the same language as the other documents she had removed. How had she missed this one loose sheet? She hadn't! She distinctly remembered checking the entire bottom of the chest closely after removing the leather bound package. No, this sheet was not there the previous day.
She dressed quickly and made her way to the University to see Professor North without an appointment. His secretary informed her he was giving a lecture and she would have to wait. Instead, she went to the lecture hall and waited in the back until he was finished. As the occupants disbursed, she headed toward the podium and stopped the Professor before he exited through the rear of the building.
"Miss Davis! What a pleasant surprise!"
"Oh, thank you, Professor." She paused, taking a deep breath and tried to steady her nerves. "There...there was another sheet...that was not with the others," she explained, taking the note from her purse and handing it to the Professor.
He took the paper and unfolded it carefully. He read it while she stood waiting; it was short and would only take a moment. When he was finished, he stared at her for a short time, troubled. "Do you own the chest in which you found these documents?"
"Y-yes," she stammered. The professor's voice held just a bit of an accusatory lilt to it. "Pappy bought it many years ago in Marakesh. He only just gave it to me as a gift."
North nodded and thought a bit. This was highly unusual. "Miss Davis...this sheet that you have handed me says this..." he turned back to the page and began to read.
Thief! I do not know how you have taken my journals, for they were here when I turned to slumber the previous night and now they are gone! Their hiding place is known to no one but myself. Therefore, I must assume you are capable of magics that would take the pages in which I have written down my thoughts and the happenings of my life.
I implore you to return what is mine, for if I discover who you are...I shall not hesitate to extinguish your life.
--A.B.
Amber's eyes widened at the unexpected threat and the accusation of stealing. "I assure you, Professor...I have not stolen a thing!"
"If it is as you say, Miss Davis. I believe you," he acknowledged. "And these documents are extremely old. You should have them tested."
"Perhaps," she replied. "Although, at the moment, I just want to know what they have to say."
He nodded and waved a hand toward the door. "I have begun translating the pages and if you'll follow me to my office, I will give you what has been completed."
Amber followed him in silence, still stunned by the shocking note the professor had read. What was this? How could this be? How could anyone have known about the documents she removed from the chest? Her grandfather and the professor were the only other living souls to know of their existence. It was mind-blowing.
"Here they are," he said, handing her the completed translations. "I first skimmed over each document, placing them in chronological order. Then I began the translations. Each translated page is directly behind the original." He smiled secretively. "I don't know what you were expecting to read in those pages, but I must say...they held my interest. Whoever the author, they had quite an imagination!"
Amber gave her thanks and left the office quickly heading for home. The professor stated the remainder of the documents would be ready for her the next day, but to call him first. He was 'flying through' the pages because they were so extraordinarily interesting and he couldn't stop himself. It was fiction to the highest quality. Fiction, he had said. Obviously he did not believe a word that was written on the pages. She would judge for herself.
***
to be continued...(bear with me. I promise there will be more Ardeth soon.)