Short chapter this time around. Keep those comments coming!
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Chapter Three
The Agony Columns
Three days later, I was up rather early, or really late, depending on your point of view, and the mail had just arrived. Mail at Baker Street generally consisted of a few requests for help in an investigation, a few reports from various informants, and the odd threat.
As I leafed through the envelopes, one caught my eye. The handwriting was familiar but I couldn't remember where I'd seen it before. It wasn't addressed to anyone in particular, just 221B Baker St. I held it up to the light, but I could only see a slip of paper. Curiosity had always been a big problem with me. When I was five, my older sister told me that little people lived inside radios and I took apart my dad's hundred dollar stereo looking for them. So, it was no surprise when I opened the note.
I slit it open carefully. The flap wasn't sealed with glue but with sealing wax, which broke easily. I was very careful so that I could seal it up later. A single slip of paper fell out with two lines written on it.
"Saw your ad for one Aurora in the Telegraph. May have some info. Be on the 9:30 train from Charing Cross to Reading in the last compartment."
I sat back to think. I smelled a trap. I read it again looking for fresh clues. I saw several small blots in each word, as if whoever was writing was unfamiliar with the pen. The words were also slowly written and the pen had pressed deeply into the delicate paper, like the person had written very carefully to disguise his/her handwriting.
I flipped the letter over to check the back. Nothing. There were no distinguishing marks on the envelope or note. No postmark showed that it had been hand-delivered.
I looked at the ad in the paper. Holmes had posted it the day I had arrived, hoping to find someone to take me off his hands. Needless to say, we hadn't gotten any replies. The ad read like this. "Missing: Young women with dark red hair and green eyes. May be going by the name 'Aurora.' Last seen near the Strand. Anyone with information please write to…" and so on.
I flipped the paper over and back but no new writing appeared. I sat and stared for ten minutes, until the hall clock struck a quarter to nine. The time decided me. I can always get off the train or sit someplace else. They couldn't possibly know me. I thought.
I quickly got some money and told Mrs. Hudson I was going for a very long walk. Forty-five minutes later, I was in the last compartment of a train speeding towards Reading on the outskirts of London. I had two traveling companions, but neither was my contact. One was a harassed looking woman with two toddlers, the other an elderly man too deaf to be bothered by the noise.
The next station was Reading and I had given up on my mysterious contact. Probably just some punk kid, or whatever they were called here, playing a joke. The two screaming kids hadn't improved my temper any, so I was fuming when I got up to leave. In my haste, I knocked in to someone else entering the compartment. Without looking at him, I shoved past, but a voice stopped me.
"Whoa there Onyx, don't hurt yourself."
"Wes?"
"The very same." Wes chuckled and held out his arms, looking like a human tree. I smacked him across the face, gently.
"You big oaf! You trying to give me a heart attack?" I hugged him, though, overwhelmed with joy at seeing him again.
"Where have you been? What happened? What are you doing here? Where are you staying? How did you find me? How did we get here? Never mind, don't answer that." Wes blinked in confusion, then shook his head to get his thoughts moving again.
"Look. I can explain everything. But not here." Wes put an arm around my shoulders and guided me to the door. The train was pulling into the station. "I know this place, the coffee is actually drinkable."
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Question, comments, critisicms, complaints, can be directed to the review button there. Please?
.·´¨`·»¦«·Kerowyn·»¦«·´¨`·.
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Chapter Three
The Agony Columns
Three days later, I was up rather early, or really late, depending on your point of view, and the mail had just arrived. Mail at Baker Street generally consisted of a few requests for help in an investigation, a few reports from various informants, and the odd threat.
As I leafed through the envelopes, one caught my eye. The handwriting was familiar but I couldn't remember where I'd seen it before. It wasn't addressed to anyone in particular, just 221B Baker St. I held it up to the light, but I could only see a slip of paper. Curiosity had always been a big problem with me. When I was five, my older sister told me that little people lived inside radios and I took apart my dad's hundred dollar stereo looking for them. So, it was no surprise when I opened the note.
I slit it open carefully. The flap wasn't sealed with glue but with sealing wax, which broke easily. I was very careful so that I could seal it up later. A single slip of paper fell out with two lines written on it.
"Saw your ad for one Aurora in the Telegraph. May have some info. Be on the 9:30 train from Charing Cross to Reading in the last compartment."
I sat back to think. I smelled a trap. I read it again looking for fresh clues. I saw several small blots in each word, as if whoever was writing was unfamiliar with the pen. The words were also slowly written and the pen had pressed deeply into the delicate paper, like the person had written very carefully to disguise his/her handwriting.
I flipped the letter over to check the back. Nothing. There were no distinguishing marks on the envelope or note. No postmark showed that it had been hand-delivered.
I looked at the ad in the paper. Holmes had posted it the day I had arrived, hoping to find someone to take me off his hands. Needless to say, we hadn't gotten any replies. The ad read like this. "Missing: Young women with dark red hair and green eyes. May be going by the name 'Aurora.' Last seen near the Strand. Anyone with information please write to…" and so on.
I flipped the paper over and back but no new writing appeared. I sat and stared for ten minutes, until the hall clock struck a quarter to nine. The time decided me. I can always get off the train or sit someplace else. They couldn't possibly know me. I thought.
I quickly got some money and told Mrs. Hudson I was going for a very long walk. Forty-five minutes later, I was in the last compartment of a train speeding towards Reading on the outskirts of London. I had two traveling companions, but neither was my contact. One was a harassed looking woman with two toddlers, the other an elderly man too deaf to be bothered by the noise.
The next station was Reading and I had given up on my mysterious contact. Probably just some punk kid, or whatever they were called here, playing a joke. The two screaming kids hadn't improved my temper any, so I was fuming when I got up to leave. In my haste, I knocked in to someone else entering the compartment. Without looking at him, I shoved past, but a voice stopped me.
"Whoa there Onyx, don't hurt yourself."
"Wes?"
"The very same." Wes chuckled and held out his arms, looking like a human tree. I smacked him across the face, gently.
"You big oaf! You trying to give me a heart attack?" I hugged him, though, overwhelmed with joy at seeing him again.
"Where have you been? What happened? What are you doing here? Where are you staying? How did you find me? How did we get here? Never mind, don't answer that." Wes blinked in confusion, then shook his head to get his thoughts moving again.
"Look. I can explain everything. But not here." Wes put an arm around my shoulders and guided me to the door. The train was pulling into the station. "I know this place, the coffee is actually drinkable."
********************************************************************
Question, comments, critisicms, complaints, can be directed to the review button there. Please?
.·´¨`·»¦«·Kerowyn·»¦«·´¨`·.