Chapter 8: Time Lapse
Once Peter reentered the cave with Neal, they were back on Earth. Neal quickly turned around to gaze wistfully at the world they'd left behind. Although Peter couldn't see anything through the opening to Tirelia, the boy could. Did he hope to see one more glimpse of shantaks?
Peter kept a firm grip on his shoulder so Neal couldn't dart back, but he didn't make the attempt. "Mozzie's waiting for us," Neal said, looking up at him. "It's time to head back."
Was that a sign that the adult Neal was emerging? It was a relief that the boy accepted the reality of what would happen so well. Peter wished that he could say the same for himself. The pain of the upcoming separation already gnawed at him, but he did his best to conceal his sadness. Their last hours together shouldn't be painful ones.
There was less snow on the forest trails than when they'd entered the cave, making Peter all the more curious to know how long they'd been gone. Pagna had warned that time shifts were unpredictable. Levi's Chevy station wagon was still in the parking lot. There was no need to scrape off ice or snow. The vehicle appeared to be in the same condition as when they left. It responded immediately when Peter started the ignition.
Neal searched for a radio station as Peter drove out of the park. They discovered that on Earth it was December 29, ten days after they'd left. The broadcasts were filled with news of upcoming New Year's Eve celebrations. One radio station talked in ominous tones of impending conflict in Vietnam now that President Kennedy had sent helicopters to Saigon. Peter quickly changed stations. He'd give anything to call his brother Tommy—tell him he loved him—but that was the exact sort of tampering he was forbidden to do. It made him realize he needed to leave as soon as possible before the urge became unbearable.
Neither one of them was hungry, and Peter drove straight back to the cottage. The last time they'd bathed had been in Hlanith. They and their clothes were filthy. The shower at Levi's place called to him. They'd left the heat on at a low setting, and the hot water tank should have ample water.
As soon as they arrived, Peter pressed the button on the compendium which would transmit a signal to Gideon. Zophar was most likely dead by now, but there was a slight chance they'd altered the timeline sufficiently that he hadn't been killed. Peter hoped he'd done the right thing in not telling Neal. The child had lost his mother and grandfather. If events transpired as they had in the past, there'd be no need to add to his pain by telling him about Zophar. Soon he wouldn't be able to remember anything about what had happened.
Peter shaved off his beard. His scruffy appearance might have saved him from being recognized by Azathoth, but he had no desire to return as a mountain man for El. After a lunch of chili and spam, Peter busied himself doing laundry while waiting for Gideon.
The sense of urgency was a constant. Neal still had ymarite inside him. The drug he'd been given to block the signal might fail at any moment. Unless a permanent solution could be found, Azathoth would be able to find him once more. The seemingly healthy little boy who was happily drawing pictures of shantaks at the kitchen table would grow ill as Lavinia's drug wore off. Peter realized he was repeating to himself all the reasons he couldn't delay because he wished he could spend more time with Neal to ease the transition.
"Someone's walking up the drive!" Neal called out excitedly "I bet it's Zophar." He raced to the front windows and Peter followed more slowly. Neal's expression grew puzzled as he stared at the man in a safari outfit and pith helmet. He turned to look up at Peter. "Do you know who he is?"
"That's a friend of Zophar's," Peter said reassuringly. "His name is Phineas. You'll like him."
"Did he just come from Africa?"
"Let's ask him."
Peter opened the door and welcomed Phineas Dittlesworth into the cottage. Gideon had created a second identity specifically for Neal. The British ornithologist was meant to be a blend of Doctor Dolittle and eccentric scientist. The distinctive attire had been chosen to make Dittlesworth appear more approachable to a young child.
"What ho!" he exclaimed boisterously. "What a jolly group this is! Allow me to present myself. Dittlesworth's my name." He shook hands with Neal and gave him a big wink. "My friends call me Phineas, and I can tell already we'll be best friends."
"I'm Neal, and this is Peter."
"Enchanted to meet you both."
"Is Zophar with you?" Neal asked.
"Zophar has been delayed," Peter said hurriedly before Phineas could say anything.
"That's right," Phineas confirmed, slanting a quick glance at Peter. "He sent me to you."
"Neal, why don't you finish those drawings while I show Phineas around the cottage?" Peter directed the Meropian to the master bedroom and retrieved the metal case Gideon had given him in Arkham. Closing the door, he said, "I'm from fourteen years in the future and a colleague of yours. This device should explain what happened."
Phineas gave him a curious look and placed his hand on the metal surface, saying nothing for several minutes. The device glowed softly in response to the pressure of his hand. Afterward, Phineas nodded slowly and placed the box in his pocket. "Were you successful in your mission?"
Peter nodded. "We retrieved the armillary sphere. I haven't removed the crystal yet. Did Gideon explain what will happen?"
"Yes, and to preserve the timeline, it's best I know as little as possible about what happened in Tirelia. He described Neal's medical condition and I'll act accordingly."
"Is Zophar dead?"
His face grew somber. "He died three days ago. I've been searching for Neal ever since."
"I haven't told him," Peter admitted. "He's already lost two relatives. In a week or so, he won't remember anything. I saw no need for him to experience an additional loss."
"I agree. I'm familiar with the drug Lavinia had you give Neal. I'm surprised it's still working so well. We mustn't delay. It's likely the boy's condition will quickly worsen and we still need to close the wormhole in Providence."
Peter gave him instructions on where to take the car. Phineas would also return the cottage to its original condition. For now, though, it would continue to be a safe refuge for him and Neal, far enough from Providence that ghasts would be less likely to find them.
After showing Phineas how to prepare the furnace and water heater, Peter returned to the kitchen. Neal was still sketching at the table. Events had been happening so equally, Peter hadn't had the time to study the armillary sphere. He fetched it from the backpack and placed it on the kitchen counter. The dark amethyst crystal sparkled in its center. Was the crystal somehow linked to Azathoth? Was it already reporting where they were? For everyone's sake, it needed to be removed. But still Peter hesitated.
No one knew what the precise effect would be on Neal once the crystal was disengaged. Would the adult Neal separate immediately? Would the boy notice anything different? If he collapsed or became ill, how could Peter desert him to return home?
Neal looked up, his eyes opening wide at the sphere. "It's time for us to leave? I didn't realize it would be so soon. It will only take me a couple of minutes to pack my sketchpad."
Peter's heart plummeted to the floor. He thought Neal understood. Was this why the boy hadn't protested more at leaving Tirelia? Neal would be heartbroken, and when Peter left, the only one around to comfort him would be an alien he barely knew. There was no choice, but the grief Peter felt would not soon dissipate.
He pulled up a chair to sit next to Neal. "I'm afraid this is one trip you can't take with me."
"But you told me you came here to get me!" he protested, the excitement on his face turning to anguish. "You said I was an adult in your world. You can't leave me behind now!"
"Take all the time you need," Phineas murmured. "I'll be on the back patio."
"I didn't lie," Peter said gently. "Right now the adult Neal is merged with you. Do you understand?"
He nodded, the tears not far off. "That's why we need to travel to your world," he whispered.
"Once I remove the crystal in the sphere, you'll be separated once more. The timeline will be restored. You won't notice anything different," he added, praying he was right, "but you need to stay here to grow up. If you don't, you won't exist in either world."
Neal stood up, his face red. "Will I ever see you again?"
"I promise you, we'll be best friends. So will Mozzie. You'll meet my wife and play with my dog. You'll be a member of our family. I'm afraid, though, you'll need to wait a while for that to happen."
"How long?"
At Neal's age, a year could sound like an eternity. Peter couldn't tell him the truth. In a week, his memory would be wiped clean. "Not long at all. We'll be together before you know it."
Neal eyed him warily. Did he suspect the truth? Peter longed to be able to alter Neal's future. The next several years would be difficult ones for him.
Neal walked over to the front window in the living room. Peter went over to stand beside him, placing an arm around his shoulders. They stood in silence for a minute, looking out on the snowy landscape.
"I'd like to take your drawings back with me," Peter said. "I'll return them to you when we're together." Neal seemed somewhat comforted by the thought. When he'd been found on the streets of Arkham, he'd only had his amulet and the clothes on his back. Anything else he had now would most likely be lost.
Neal reached into his pocket and pulled out his dragon key ring. "You should take this. It will bring you good luck till I'm there."
Peter wrapped him in a tight hug. "You'll get this back too, I promise you."
Neal didn't answer but he was dry-eyed as he clung to Peter for a moment before releasing him. Staying longer would only make the departure more difficult. Peter called Phineas back into the room.
When Peter extracted the crystal from the armillary sphere, the stone felt warm to the touch.
"Do you feel any different?" Phineas asked Neal.
"No," he said and turned to Peter. "Should I?"
"No reason to," he said reassuringly, hoping that was true.
Phineas gave him his handkerchief and Peter wrapped the crystal in it before placing it in his pocket. He was consumed with doubts. Shouldn't there be a change of same sort? Was Neal still trapped inside? What if Peter went back, but Neal didn't return?
"Do you need to leave now?" Neal asked.
"It's for the best," Peter said, hating himself for having to say it. "Help me pack up your drawings. When we're together, I'll ask you to make more." More lies. The adult Neal wouldn't recall what had happened.
"Peter told me about Henry," Phineas said. "I'd like to hear more about him."
"Can we visit him?" Neal asked.
"Of course." Likely another lie. Phineas had told him that as soon as Peter left, he'd have to supercharge Neal's algolnium. The wormhole was still active in Providence. With the armillary sphere gone, Azathoth would likely flood it with ghasts. Until their access was closed, Neal was at high risk of being captured. But once Neal's algolnium was reactivated, he'd rapidly become ill. There'd probably be no chance to visit Henry before Lavinia's arrival.
When the drawings were stowed in the backpack, Peter turned to Neal for a final embrace. The tears long held back could no longer be denied on either of their parts. Peter's fake confidence that they'd soon be reunited seemed empty and hollow.
"You'll tell me about everything if I forget?" Neal whispered.
Astonished, Peter stared at him. He'd never mentioned amnesia. Neal's eyes suddenly looked too old for a child. Was that the adult Neal speaking as his memories leaked into the child?
Peter held him even tighter. "I promise. We'll be a family once more."
When Peter pressed the button on the compendium to return home, he kept his eyes on Neal, holding that image into his mind . . .
An instant later, he was back in Pagna's lab, the suddenness knocking him to his knees. He took a moment to catch his breath. The swiftness of the journey was disorienting. Part of him still felt like he was in the cottage.
"You're a welcome sight!" Pagna exclaimed. "Mozzie! Look who's here."
Mozzie scurried in from the outer lab. "It's about time," he said a beam on his face. "I hope this means good news."
Peter patted his knapsack. "I've got the armillary sphere."
"And Neal?" Mozzie asked. "How is he?"
"Fine when I left. Has he made it back yet?"
Pagna shook her head. "Not to our knowledge."
"I need a full account," Mozzie demanded. "Spare no detail."
That would take a while, and there was someone Peter badly needed to see first. El was working downstairs in the chemistry lab with Cyrus. Peter was stunned to discover that it was only Wednesday morning. He and Mozzie had left the previous evening by El's timeline. Mozzie had returned only a couple of hours after they'd left.
That may have eased the stress for El, but all the pent-up emotions he'd had over the past two weeks quickly resurfaced. Pagna offered the use of her lab where they could have privacy. She called El upstairs, then shoved Mozzie to the outside lab to give them time alone.
Peter felt like El had been with him the entire time he was gone—almost like the adult Neal was present in the child—but there was no way to communicate. Now when he wrapped his arms around her, all he could say was, "I love you, hon."
"I love you too," El said. She traced the line of his jaw and smiled through her tears. "You've got quite a suntan."
"I've been a mountain man for the past two weeks." He breathed in her scent, the lingering fragrance of her rosemary and mint shampoo, and felt truly home.
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Later that day, everyone adjourned to June's house. Mozzie had already caught them up for the events he'd witnessed but that still left the shantaks, Azathoth, and the return to the cottage. Peter's thoughts kept returning to the little boy he'd left behind and how he was faring.
Time dragged slowly. Neal had yet to reemerge. Everyone assumed that it was the armillary sphere which had enabled Azathoth to place Neal into his younger self, but what if they were wrong? What if there was a setting in Azathoth's machinery which prevented Neal from being split? Peter spun out a vast assortment of unforeseen issues but didn't torture the others with them. Until Neal reappeared, everyone was trying to focus on their jobs. El looked like she hadn't slept at all the previous night. At least that was something he hoped he could rectify.
Gideon believed the octopus-like creature which had attacked Peter in Azathoth's fortress was a cthylla, a species native to Tirelia. It had evolved from the ocean and now dwelled in caves and caverns. It combined some of the features of Earth's bats and spiders. Gideon had never heard of them in service of the Ymar, but like zoogs they could have become ensnared.
As for why the shantaks perceived Neal to glow, the Meropians were stumped. They speculated it could be because of the excessive amount of algolnium in his system or perhaps it was being caused by his Celaenian heritage. No Meropian was known to have communicated with shantaks.
The armillary sphere and crystal would be stored in Pagna's lab where no one could enter without her permission. When Peter asked for an explanation of how the security system worked, she simply smiled and said he wouldn't understand. Although her manner was much gentler, Pagna had much in common with her taciturn kinswoman Lavinia.
Peter touched base with his department head. There was no reason for him not to resume teaching. He enjoyed Eleanor's good-natured teasing about him not trusting her with his students. She'd wound up teaching only one class during his short absence.
The next day Peter taught his full class load. El spent the entire day into the evening in the lab with Lavinia and Cyrus. Peter wished he had something so absorbing to work on. Their efforts were paying off. They were testing a drug which could be the means of eliminating ymarite in Neal's system. They only had a small supply of Neal's blood to test it on. If this sample didn't work, there might not be enough in reserve to start over.
Despite his optimistic words, neither El nor Peter was sleeping well. During the weeks in Tirelia, Neal had become his son, and now Peter's anguish was as real as if Neal was his own flesh and blood. Peter found himself stopping to listen, hoping against hope he'd hear something in his head, but there was nothing.
On Friday morning, he taught the final session of his introductory lecture on ancient Egypt. It was the same course Neal had attended the first week of classes. Afterward, he'd introduced himself and related an incredible tale of a starfish carving he saw in his dreams. Peter had the eerie sensation that Neal was there now, listening to him. At the conclusion of the lecture, he looked up into the steep rows of seats, half-expecting to see Neal descend the steps to approach the lectern.
Peter mounted the staircase back to his office. The starfish still resided in his safe. He hadn't examined it in a while and resolved to correct that deficiency. The script carved into the walls of Azathoth's lab appeared to be the same language. In an odd way, that starfish now seemed like a link to Neal.
He paused at the door to his office. He could see a person's shadow through the frosted glass of the door panel. Peter kept the door locked, and there were few who had a key. Don't get your hopes up. In his preoccupation, he could have forgotten to lock the office.
He thrust the door open to see Neal standing by his desk, all six feet of him. But that hopeful smile on his face reminded Peter so much of the little boy, he felt like that he should be scooping a child into his arms, not wrapping his arms around an adult. Neither one of them was able to control their emotions, and why should they even try?
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It was a moment or two before they could speak coherently. Neal had grown unexpectedly tense waiting for Peter to appear. He'd watched the man he'd adopted as his father vanish in front of his eyes. Those emotions were overpowering his memories of Peter as a colleague. It seemed strange not to have to look up to him and Peter appeared to be wrestling with the same disconnect. When they sat down, Peter pressed him for details.
"I reappeared in June's living room."
"That must have given her quite a start."
"I don't know who was more astonished. My arrival triggered a signal to Pagna's lab. Within minutes she was there with Lavinia, El, Mozzie, and Cyrus. I tried to call you, but you were already in the lecture hall. They reassured me you'd made it back safely. Mozzie was there in the flesh. I figured you had to be all right as well." Neal swiped a quick hand over his eyes. "Sorry. The memories of you and Mozzie vanishing are all so fresh . . ."
Peter looked at him, startled. "You remember?"
Neal nodded. "Everything. It's hard to explain. I'd become that boy, and when I came back I retained his memories. Mom, Gramps, Zophar, Henry . . . all of it. Thanks to you and Mozzie, I have my childhood back."
"That's a lot to absorb," Peter said. "I have to admit I was comforted thinking that you wouldn't recall how your parents died."
"But there were so many happy, loving moments that were lost as well. Now they're all part of me. I'll never be able to adequately express my appreciation."
"You already have," Peter assured him, "and you also reminded me." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a keychain. "This is yours, I believe." He placed it in Neal's hand. "I have the real thing. I don't need this for luck." He tousled Neal's hair. "You see, I remember too!"
"My dragon!" Neal laughed as he smoothed down his hair. "Are you still going to think of me as a kid?"
Peter shrugged. "I'm afraid it's inevitable. You better get used to it."
"It's a good thing I didn't act on my initial impulse to go to your lecture. Our reputations might not have survived."
"Two professors losing it in front of a packed hall? Yeah, that's probably for the best."
"I'm meeting El at the medical center for a physical this afternoon. They think they'll have a drug ready for me to test tomorrow. I may finally be able to get rid of the ymarite. El's anxious to see how much algolnium I have and if my body is tolerating it." He smiled. "I'm back to being a lab rat. Some things don't change."
"Do you feel all right?"
"Physically, I'm fine. Emotionally?" Neal shrugged. "I feel like that boy traveled back with me. He's part of me now."
"You can't imagine how happy I am to hear that. Having to say goodbye to you was . . ." Peter stopped and shook his head.
"For me too," Neal said quietly. "There's so much to process. That black hole in my memory's been filled in. I feel like Mom died two months ago. For Gramps, it's only been a couple of weeks."
Peter clasped his shoulder. "You weren't allowing yourself to grieve properly in Providence. Now you'll have that chance."
They stayed together for the rest of the day. Peter appeared to need the reassurance as much as he did. El kept the exams comparatively brief. After stopping in the library vault to retrieve his drawings, Neal spent the rest of the afternoon with Peter, working in his office. Peter typed up an account of the events, while Neal sketched at a side table. He wanted to transfer the images of Mom, Gramps, Zophar, and Henry to paper while they were still vivid in his mind.
Everyone gathered at June's that evening. Peter, El, Mozzie, Cyrus, Gideon, Pagna, and Lavinia. Humans and Meropians. His family. The only one missing was Sara. El had planned to call her in London, but when Mozzie returned so quickly, she'd held off. Neal was glad Sara had been spared the anxiety.
Gideon arranged for a local Italian restaurant, Fabrizio's, to supply a lasagna feast. Mozzie had Cranwell's Wine Shop deliver an assortment of vintages for the occasion.
Gideon was able to confirm that there was no evidence of significant damage to the timeline. Neal remembered Peter's departure and the remainder of that day with Phineas, but it was not something he wanted to discuss. The anguish he'd felt at Peter's departure was too raw. Phineas had done his best to comfort him, but there wasn't much he could do.
Neal's memories ended when he finally cried himself to sleep that night. Gideon said that his condition quickly worsened, perhaps exacerbated by the identity split. The Meropian had placed an emergency call to Lavinia the same day Peter left. As soon as they sealed the wormhole, Lavinia began treating Neal for algolnium sickness. There was no chance to visit Henry.
Out of all their experiences on Tirelia, the Meropians were most focused on the communications Neal had overheard in the fortress. They now had confirmation that Azathoth could communicate directly with Earth.
Lavinia believed that his contacts were most likely either cult members or Tirelians who were acting as spies. "We must prepare ourselves for the possibility," she warned. "As far as we know, there is nothing to prevent Tirelians from entering wormholes or mingling with humans. They look just like you. They can't use the cave portal you did, but there may be other gateways. You've also confirmed that Elnath scientists are working for Azathoth."
They'd known the cult was dangerous, but now it was clear they were getting their orders directly from Azathoth. What did Azathoth mean when he said he was working on a solution? Had he discovered a way of obtaining crystals which would lead to even more penetration into Earth's defenses? He'd mentioned conditions on Earth being different in earlier times. The Meropians feared he was attempting to develop time travel. Would Neal look back on this moment as a momentary respite before a much more difficult struggle?
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Thanks to a secure connection provided by Gideon, Neal was able to call Sara the next day. The Meropians were adamant that in light of the very real threat posed by the cult, all telephone communications concerning their group's mission should be conducted through equipment housed within Pagna's lab. Sara had been given instructions to go to Gideon's London office for the call. The system required advance planning, but it worked.
When she heard what happened, Sara promised that no matter what she'd be back for Christmas. Thanks to Gideon's seemingly endless financial reserves, she'd be able to catch a flight, even at the last minute. It had only been a week since Neal had seen her, but it felt like it was a remote event in a different reality. He hoped by Christmas he would no longer feel out of sync.
Later that day El's team succeeded in purging the ymarite from Neal's system. If it had been a week earlier, he wouldn't have experienced the time lapse, but Neal had no regrets. Thanks to Peter and Mozzie, they had the armillary sphere back and his memory as well.
The moment had come to make good on a promise. On Sunday, Mozzie drove Peter and Neal in his Hornet to Providence for a long-delayed return visit. Neal rode in the backseat just like he had on the earlier ride. It was difficult to believe it had been fourteen years ago. His mind told him only a few weeks had passed since he accompanied Henry to the shelter.
During the trip, Mozzie explained how he'd made annual donations to the facility ever since he graduated from college. "Mr. Jensen never mentioned Henry," Mozzie said, "but he wouldn't have. I'd asked him not to."
"Did he question your motive?" Peter asked.
"Mr. Jensen was used to strange requests. He likely assumed I was acting as the agent for someone who needed to keep their identity secret, and that was, in a sense, true." He smiled as he rounded the curve leading to the entrance of St. Jerome's. "Mr. Jensen also didn't mention that I looked unusually mature for my age. In 1961, I was supposedly twenty-six years old. Now he'll think I haven't aged a bit."
"Henry was convinced you and Peter were aliens," Neal said.
"And you, as well," Peter commented. "He'd placed us in the fictional world of Green Lantern and believed we were Guardians of the Universe. He probably gave up on the notion long ago."
"Perhaps not," Mozzie said, pulling into the parking lot of the complex. "I gave him a way to realize that we were telling the truth. Not necessarily that we were Guardians of the Universe," he added when Peter started to growl, "but that we were from the future. Henry needed to have something to believe in. I told him a new hero named Spider-Man would emerge in a year and that when he read about the adventures of Peter Parker, he should think of us."
Neal chuckled. "I like that. Spider-Man fights a villain called Doctor Octopus. A caricature of Azathoth perhaps?"
Mozzie shrugged as he turned off the ignition. "Henry may have been left with the impression that he was your arch-nemesis. I told Henry that it could be years before you'd see him again and that he should leave his contact information with Mr. Jensen."
Neal fingered the dragon in his pocket. He owed Henry so much. All his relatives were dead. Henry was the only tie to his life before Phineas showed up at the cottage.
The walkway leading to the building had been neatly shoveled. A large Christmas wreath was on the front door. This was where Henry had spent Christmas. Did he run away afterward? Neal's nerves began to surface as they went inside as he became uneasy over what he'd hear. He was glad he had Peter and Mozzie with him.
Mozzie had called ahead to verify that Mr. Jensen would be available. They'd timed their arrival to be before lunch. Mozzie guided them to his office which was beyond the front reception area.
An elderly man, Jensen's tight curly hair and mustache were gray. Although he was advanced in years, his back was still ramrod straight.
"Mozzie, after all these years, this is a real pleasure!" he said, greeting him warmly. "You haven't aged a bit since last we met!"
Mozzie smiled. "I find it more efficient to age in spurts. These are the friends I mentioned—Peter Gilman and Neal Carter."
Mr. Jensen flashed a curious look at Neal when he shook hands with him. He invited them to take seats in the side chairs around his desk.
Mozzie took the lead. "As I mentioned on the phone, we're interested in a boy I brought to you in December of 1961—Henry Elliot."
"And as I told you, I'm protective of our kids and don't share information about them without knowing the circumstances. At the time you introduced Henry, you asked that I not mention him to you afterward, and I've complied. Our facility is greatly appreciative of all the donations you've made over the years, but they don't prevent me from asking what's changed." Mr. Jensen raised an eyebrow and reclined back in his chair. It was clear their university credentials didn't carry sufficient reassurance.
"Henry befriended me when I was a child," Neal said. "That was shortly before Mozzie brought him here. A couple of weeks later, I became ill and developed amnesia. I only recently regained my memory and recalled who he was. I'd like to thank him." He reached into his pocket for a copy of the newspaper article which had been published when he was found in Arkham.
Mr. Jensen read it through, not saying a word. Afterward, he looked up. "When Henry arrived, he carried a Christmas gift. Do you know what it was?"
Neal smiled. "A crayon drawing wrapped in the comics page of a newspaper. I'd made it." He turned to Peter. "It was of Henry dressed in a Green Lantern costume. I included an image of myself in the act of drawing him."
"Henry was very proud of that picture," Mr. Jensen said. "He told everyone his kid brother Neal made it. I got a frame for it and he hung it on the wall next to his bed."
"Did Henry stay here for long?" Peter asked.
"Till he finished high school. I don't mind telling you he was a challenge—always in one scrape after another. But he has a good heart and liked to help the younger kids. He loved the Boy Scouts and participated in all their outdoor sports." Mr. Jensen chuckled. "He claimed he was training to be a soldier of fortune. He excelled in marksmanship, rock climbing, fencing—you name it."
"Did he get to see his mom?" Neal asked.
"I contacted her and she visited him a few days later. She appeared happy to have him in a safe place and made no difficulties. She died two years later from a drug overdose. At that time, Henry declared he'd take his father's surname, Parker. When I questioned him, he said his father was also dead. We didn't have a birth certificate for him, and I saw no harm in him calling himself Henry Parker."
Mozzie shot Neal a knowing look. That was Spider-Man's last name. Was that a signal Henry believed the story Mozzie told him?
"Has he kept in contact with you since he left?" Mozzie asked.
"He wrote to me about a month afterward." Mr. Jensen opened a desk drawer and pulled out an index card. "He told me you might ask about him and that I should give you this." He handed the card to Mozzie.
Neal peered over his shoulder. Written on the card, was the address of a post office box in the Netherlands. The name was Henry Chaseman.
When they walked back to the car, Peter quizzed him about the significance of the alias.
"Gramps used Chaseman as an alias. That's the way I introduced myself. Henry must have remembered it."
"I suppose he could have used the name as a secret signal to Mozzie," Peter speculated. "But I'm curious why he used an alias."
Mozzie shrugged. "Superheroes have aliases. Henry may still identify with them."
"He graduated high school in 1968," Peter pointed out. "That was at the height of the Vietnam War. He may have fled to Europe to avoid being drafted."
Peter didn't comment further, but Neal could read his views by the expression on his face. A draft-dodger wasn't his idea of a superhero. Peter had served in the military. His younger brother had been killed during the war. But Neal had many friends who extended their time in college to postpone being drafted. He wasn't about to knock Henry for wanting to stay out of the war. How had Henry been living these past seven years? Was the post office box number still valid? Neal intended to find out.
Mozzie unlocked the car door. "Should we stop off at Freetown State Forest on the way back?" He turned to look at them, a glint in his eyes. "Don't we need to find out if the wormhole still works?"
"Lavinia warned us not to attempt it," Peter said. "Once Azathoth discovered the theft, he likely ordered his forces to be even more vigilant."
"Her caution is warranted," Mozzie agreed diplomatically. He turned to Neal. "How do you vote?"
Neal felt a smile breaking out. "In the name of science, we should at least discover if the portal is still there. Mozzie, you believed it was possible that the winged serpent I encountered in Lyon had traveled back in time to create the wormhole. If that's the case it may have had a limited duration."
Neal hoped that wasn't true. That eight-year-old who was now inside him longed to see shantaks once more.
Notes: Will the portal to Tirelia still be open? Will Neal reconnect with Henry? The answers are coming in the next story in the series, Sands of Abydos. There are a few hints about the directions the series will take in my new blog post, "Time Crystals Sandbox." In Penna's blog post, she takes us on a nostalgic "journey through fandoms."
Thank you for coming along on this latest Arkham Files adventure! Special thanks to the awesome Penna Nomen for acting as beta and venturing into Cthulhu Mythos weirdness with me. I've added cthyllas to the Arkham Files bestiary. They're not as lovable as shantaks, and Neal and Peter would just as soon not encounter them again.
Next week I'll plunge back into the wormhole and emerge in Elizabethan England for the next installment in my Six-Crossed Knot series (All Souls Trilogy fandom). The story is called Golden Bubble and takes place in 1593. On July 31, I'll return to Caffrey Conversation with Cloister of Secrets, the sequel to The Musicians.
Till next time!
Blog: Penna Nomen & Silbrith Conversation
Chapter Visuals and Music: The Time Crystals board on the Caffrey Conversation Pinterest website
