Author's notes:
Hi! As always, I'm happy to see you're enjoying the story. PhoebeJayScuttlebutt, thank you for your review! MarJan53, thank you! I think Burkes will make good cat servants. :)
As to Neal and his logic… He's a very troubled little kid. I would not trust his judgement. He imagines that which displeases him as different than what it is, dreaming up a more friendly world…
This chapter was inspired by season 1 episode 12 "Bottlenecked". :)
Chapter 4 "The Franklin Bottle"
"For he lives with the delusion:
his guilt will not be known and hated.
Empty and false are the words of his mouth;
he has ceased to be wise and do good."
Psalms 36:3-4 (NABRE)
"Check," Mister Keller says and Neal finds himself frowning hard on the board. Then, he moves his queen. "Check again," not bothering to move any of the black pieces Mister Keller chuckles. "You're dead Georgie, don't you realize it yet?"
"No, I am not," Neal retorts, moving the queen again. No way is he going to lose again. There must be a way and he is going to find it and... "Yeah, okay, I give up," sighing, Neal knocks his white king off the board. Then, he looks up at the watching him adult. "Since when have I been dead?" he curiously asks.
"Oh, I don't know, kid. Ever since the game begun, perhaps?" Mister Keller chuckles, sipping on his whiskey. As Neal keeps eyeing him, his mentor sighs. Putting away the glass he leans over the board again to retrace back five steps of the game.
"Here?" Neal asks and Mister Keller nods. Neal frowns yet again. He does not see it. "Maybe if…" taking the rook in his hand Neal risks a glance at the adult. Something about Mister Keller's expression changes his mind. "No," putting the rook down Neal takes the Knight. "This is what I should have―"
"Yeah, no," lighting a cigar Mister Keller shakes his head and Neal finds himself pausing yet again. "How about I have a look at those passports while you are thinking?"
Looking up at the adult Neal frowns. "They are not finished yet though."
"I know."
"Ok-ay," with a small shrug Neal stands up. He has left the pages to dry in the bathroom. When he opens the door he can feel on his skin the heat from the heater. "Should I bring all of them?!" he calls out and when Mister Keller does not answer, Neal sighs. So. All of them. He guesses it would be easier to just bring the whole drain board. He takes it in both of his hands and shuts the door with his foot.
"I know how to do my job, you know," he says crossing the space to the kitchen table. "And I am good at it," he adds, placing the board on the table. As Mister Keller leans over to examine the passports, Neal steps from one foot to another, suddenly too anxious to take a sit again. "You won't find any mistakes here," he continues frustrated with the silent treatment. "I said―"
The laugh of his mentor interrupts him. The adult looks up. "God, will you stop talking for just a second?" As Neal, pursing his lips, does not answer… Mister Keller snorts yet again. "I'm not kicking you out, kid," he says.
"Well, what are you doing, then!" Neal demands.
"…Sit," the man commands and when Neal does as he says, he gives him another one of those crooked smiles of his. "Feeling shaky?" At first Neal does not understand the question, but then, as he glances down at his hands… Embarrassed he hides them in the pockets of his hoodie and looks away. He focuses his gaze on the floor and notices… A hair. There is Satchmo's hair on the floor. He thought he had been so thorough about cleaning the living room before Mister Keller's arrival and yet… He has not. Because there is a hair.
Feeling his heart pick up a pace, Neal looks up at the adult again. Is this what it is about? Does his mentor know about the stray? Taking a nervous glance towards the door of the bedroom, Neal finds it hard to keep still. He has kept the dog's presence a secret for a month now. He has thought he will get away with it. But what if the reason why the adult wants to see these passports now is…
That guy's dead, Vincent the cat says and Neal finds himself frowning. What?
What? Satchmo asks.
As someone snaps his fingers in front of his eyes, Neal finds himself flinching. Alarmed, he looks at the adult and… "W-what?" he asks weakly and Mister Keller snorts.
"Spacing out already?" he asks and Neal does not answer. Cautiously he keeps eyeing the adult. Blowing smoke in the air the man sighs. "Right. Forget I asked," he shakes his head, then meets Neal's eyes again. "I said that guy's dead." The man passes onto Neal one of the passport pages he has been examining. "He does not need a new passport. All he needs is a coffin and we…" the man snorts yet again. "Well, we don't make those."
"…Oh," Neal says. Relieved that the adult is sad for the dead man and not angry with him, Neal smiles. "I guess we don't." He frowns down at the picture of the man, then looks up at Mister Keller yet again. "Just him?" The adult nods. "Less work for me then," Neal summarizes, then realizing his fingers are still trembling, Neal puts away the passport and pockets his hands.
"I want the rest to be ready on Monday," his mentor says after a moment and Neal nods a bit absently. He thinks he will have everything ready earlier than that but decides against voicing the thought aloud. To Neal's experience the longer the deadline, the better. "All right," his mentor nods to himself yet again, then locks his eyes with Neal. "Now. Moving on to the important things, kid. The two of us have a job to do."
"Just us?" Neal asks in surprise and Mister Keller, instead of answering, shoves the chess board aside and then puts the mysterious duffle bag he has brought with himself on the table in front of Neal. He opens it and then nods with his chin at Neal, who takes it as a clue to help himself to the bag.
Inside there is an empty bottle. Taking it in his hands, Neal frowns. "Do you know what it is?" Mister Keller asks and Neal shakes his head. "Really. Never heard of the Franklin Bottle?" At that Neal does look up.
"Franklin Bottle? Seriously?" he asks his mentor in disbelief and the adult grins.
"It better be perfect."
Looking down at the bottle, Neal sees it with the eyes of an artist. Eyes that can see the potential of creation hidden in every form. "It will be," he promises his mentor, then reaches into the bag again. "You already got the wax," he notices and his mentor nods.
"Eighteenth century beeswax from the Château Du Munn vineyard," his mentor tells him. "The wax and the bottle was a hard part, Georgie. I hope you can deal with the rest?"
"Of course," Neal smiles and Mister Keller snorts.
"Great. That's it then," the adult says, then leaning over the board, he moves the Knight to B5. "That was the move that you should have made, kid," he says and then gets up.
"Oh…" Neal says and is about to ask some question when he realizes… The adult is almost at the door now. Standing up from his chair, Neal rushes after the adult. "You're leaving?!"
"What? You need someone to hold your hand?"
Feeling heat in his cheeks, Neal focuses on the bottle in his hands. He has no idea why he has assumed they were going to steal the rest of the supplies together. What has he been thinking? Of course it is going to be his scavenger hunt, not Mister Keller's.
"I will get the cork and the newspaper," he quickly tells his mentor, before meeting his amber gaze again. "Do I have a deadline?"
The man chuckles. "Do we have a deadline, you mean." He says and noting the surprise on Neal's face, he decides to explain himself. "I don't want you to start without me. Just get those things and I'll come here tomorrow. Then we'll start. It needs to be perfect."
Not knowing quite how to answer, Neal frowns. He can make it perfect without Mister Keller, the adult should know that much by now. Well, he cannot make wine, this one is up to his mentor but as for the appearance… And anyway, does the Franklin Bottle even need a good flavor? The moment someone decided to do the potassium test they would know it is a fake.
"And this bottle, it's going to stay just between the two of us," the adult says interrupting his thoughts and Neal snorts. There really is no need for his mentor to remind him of the need for secrecy every time he asks him to do something.
"You know it always does," Neal shrugs and Mister Keller frowns, something like hesitation enters his expression. Then, after nodding to himself, his mentor locks his eyes with Neal again.
"It is finally happening," the adult announces, then chuckles. "It is finally happening!"
Neal blinks. "What is happening?" he asks a bit confused by the sudden change in atmosphere.
"The score I've been waiting for," Neal moves away as the adult turns around to cross to the table and pour himself another glass of whiskey. Confused, Neal watches the adult dry it in one gulp. "The big score. Score of the lifetime," his mentor says turning to Neal again. His eyes are shining. The adult laughs. "You still don't see it, do you? The bigger picture. But don't worry, I know all the steps, I will show you…"
"The bigger picture?" Neal repeats after the adult blankly.
"You see until now we were after the fish. The little fish, the medium fish, but now…" The man grins. "We'll be after the big fish. After the whales." Putting away the glass, Mister Keller smiles. Neal as always likes it when Mister Keller uses the 'we' when talking about the future plans. He stands a bit taller.
"The whales," Neal repeats, starting to share Mister Keller's excitement.
Putting the glass away the adult chuckles, then crosses his way to the door and unexpectedly puts both of his hands on Neal's shoulders. His amber gaze fixes on Neal.
"Georgie. You know I've always valued your loyalty. Now I am going to need it more than ever. No one can know about our plans with the Franklin Bottle. No one in the crew, no one in the community. Just you and me. Understood?"
Neal feels a shiver run through him. "I understand," he gulps and his mentor smiles. Letting go of Neal's shoulders the adult ruffles his hair.
"Good. I will be back tomorrow. Have everything ready," he says.
"I will," Neal promises.
"My boy," his mentor says and with that he turns away. After shutting the door Neal carefully exhales. Then, he turns away to warily gaze at the table and the chessboard on it. He crosses to it, then sits at the table. Taking a black King in his hand he frowns.
What is his mentor up to this time? It is true that Mister Keller, especially after having a few drinks, likes to make fish comparisons and talk about scores of a life time… But today… Today's talk felt different. And the adult has still been sober while saying all that stuff!
Spinning the chess piece in his hands Neal frowns. True, Franklin Bottle is a rare curiosity in the community, a bet among forgers. Still - Neal would not call passing it for the real thing the score of a lifetime. Neither would Mister Keller. The adult even have said it himself - it is going to be just a little step towards the greater goal. A beginning…
"Just the two of us," Neal, feeling quite bewildered now, suddenly realizes. "That's what he has said. That me and him…" Realizing the truth in those words, Neal pauses yet again. It is him who Mister Keller has chosen to help him catch that whale. Not Penny, not Travis, not even Mil but him.
I've always valued your loyalty. No one can know about our plans with the Franklin Bottle. No one in the crew, no one in the community.
Feeling light-headed Neal puts back the piece. Mister Keller has said all those things while not even half-drunk! No, indeed - he has said it while still sober.
"We're going after the Moby Dick, Georgie," Neal softly says to himself. Then, as the quite impatient whining comes from underneath the door, Neal shakes himself. "Coming, I'm coming," he tells his dog happily crossing the space to the bedroom.
Finally freed, Satchmo, with his usual energy jumps on him knocking him onto the floor and licks his face. You're taking me on the scavenger hunt with you? his happy companion asks and when Neal nods… Cause I really, really need to go! Starting to run in circles around Neal the dog adds a bit more miserably.
Recognizing the frantic plea for a walk, Neal sobers up. The few times he either forgot about the dog or did not realize what Satchmo's whining meant - the workshop's floor, just as Neal, deeply suffered because of it. Getting up from the floor Neal runs for the door. "Come on, buddy, come on," hoping it is not too late he rushes the poor dog out of the workshop.
In a matter of seconds they are out and as Satchmo, stops next to a post to take care of his business… Neal sighs in relief. The disaster has been averted.
/\_/\
='x'=
"Marie Antoinette gave Franklin a bottle of Château Du Munn." Satchmo, following after his little two-leg, can still smell he-who-reeks-of-evil-water. He has never met him snout to snout, but one does not need to see a two-leg to judge him by his smell. Satchmo is definitely not taking he-who-reeks-of-evil-water back to the Burke-den with them. He is no pack.
You are pack, Satchmo barks looking up at his pup and the-missing-one laughs.
We need to find the-ones-who-smell-of-home, Satch barks yet again and the pup clasps his hands together.
"Yeah, exactly Satch! It is rumored to be in private hands, but it's never gone to auction," he says and Satchmo cocks his head at him. He has never met a puppy who had so many things to bark about. This is one of the reasons for which he himself, during the last weeks, became more talkative. It feels right to bark from time to time to let the puppy know everything is all right and Satchmo got it covered. The-missing-one seems to really need it.
We'll find them, with this in mind Satch reassuringly barks.
The-missing-one's response is almost immediate. "Not until now! Exactly," he chuckles quickening the pace and then after tapping Satch on the top of the head, he laughs yet again. "Why is it that you always want to play," he asks stopping to pat Satchmo some more.
We need to find the-ones-who-smell-of-home, Satchmo says licking his puppy on the nose. In response the pup throws his hands around his neck. It feels good to be hugged. It would feel even better if the-missing-one finally stopped playing around and focused on finding their way back to the Burke-den. Unfortunately, Satchmo is aware it might be too much to expect of the pup, especially one as chaotic and unpredictable as the-missing-one.
"Satch. You want to race?" the pup, pulling away from him, mumbles and Satchmo finds himself barking yet again. The-missing-one laughs. "Ok. Ready? 3…2…1… GO!"
The moment the pup starts to run Satchmo forgets all about his previous worries. This, he realizes running after the-missing-one, is one of the best things about the puppyhood. Even while distressed and missing, he-who-runs-fast still knows how to have the best of times. Unlike the-ones-who-smell-of-home he is never boring.
/\_/\
='x'=
The caramel eyes focused on him are happy. Neal smiles running his hand through the dog's soft fur. Satchmo The Nameless is a great companion to have. Unlike the cats the dog has nothing but time for Neal. As Satch tries to lick his face Neal grimaces. He pushes away from him and chuckles as the dog crawls after him. The lab again rests his big head on Neal's chest and meets his eyes happily. Fortunately, he does not try to kiss him anymore. Neal guesses he is not the only one tired from running. "We still need to find supplies for Mister Keller's bottle," Neal reminds the dog and Satchmo blinks in understanding.
Tell me more about that bottle, the dog whines. What's so special about it?
"You see, the point is the Franklin bottle can't be counterfeited," Neal explains happily. "Figuring out who can pull off the impossible - it's like a challenge in our community."
May the best man win?
"Exactly!" Neal grins. Smart dog! "So now when we have the bottle, we just need to fill it, cork it, seal it, and label it."
And then what? Satch asks and Neal frowns. How come he has not asked himself this question before? He has no idea what Mister Keller plans to do next with the bottle.
"Well, my best guess is that he will try to sell it," he slowly answers the dog. But how is it supposed to lead them to the big whales? He scrutinizes the dog. "Private collector makes sense, though on the other hand - you get the best deals when auctioning such stuff. If he runs the bottle through the auction house…" Neal frowns yet again.
It could work, the dog tells him. The tests would be standard stuff. Carbon date the cork, run a molecular test on the wax, spectroscopic refraction on the glass…
"Yeah, maybe." Neal looks up at the blue sky. He wishes he had taken his sketchbook with him so that he could paint those most curiously looking clouds above him. And Satchmo. Recently, all his sketchbooks have been filled with Satchmo The Nameless' sketches. He looks back at his companion. "Then again, what if they try to run a cesium test? Vincent himself knows that the Franklin Bottle showing up after all these years will look suspicious."
But cesium tests are expensive! Satchmo lively disagrees and Neal shakes his head at him. Not really because the dog is wrong - he is quite correct, at that. Action houses do not like to run Cesium tests because they are so expensive. Still, it is the best way of determining the age of the wine without opening it. Cesium 137 does not exist in nature. After they had detonated the first atomic bomb, it spread around the world. Anything that was bottled before 1945, like the real Franklin bottle, would be cesium free. This is the reason why the Franklin Bottle cannot be forged.
Maybe Mister Keller has found a way around it, Satch suggests and Neal shakes his head. He does not think so. Mister Keller can do a lot of things but beating the cesium test is not one of them. It is impossible and that is the beauty of it. Still…
"Bigger picture," Neal murmurs half to himself and half to Satchmo. "You never see the bigger picture, kid."
Great things are not done by impulse, but by a series of small things brought together, they hear Vincent the cat helpfully suggesting from afar. Neal smiles.
"Yeah, well, I still cannot see it though," he tells his friends quietly. "So Franklin Bottle is just a step. A small thing that will lead to greater things…" Satchmo barks in agreement and Neal sighs. It is nice to be included in Mister Keller's plan. Still, he would rather the adult told him earlier what exactly that big whale they are supposedly hunting looks like. "Dear Vincent, there really is some kind of treasure out there, isn't there?" Neal suddenly whispers under his breath, his eyes are shining.
Mister Keller is the best for including you in! Satchmo confirms while Vincent just purrs. The cat has got a lot to be happy about. Mister Keller has told them that he excluded everyone else from his plan. Everyone else but Neal. Neal is the only one included, everyone else - Penny, Travis, Mil… All those adults… They all have no clue what is really going on. It is just him and Mister Keller. The two of them and their hunt for the white whale. Enjoying the feeling of the sun on his face, Neal closes his eyes. If mum could see him now she would be proud. He knows she would.
"Let's not fail Mister Keller, ok?" Suddenly pulling himself upright, Neal turns to gaze at Satchmo. "We can't fail him." The dog barks sounding just as determined as Neal and Neal furrows his forehead. "Okay…" he slowly says. "I have an idea where we can find the newspapers."
Where? the dog cocks his head at him with interest.
Neal grins. "I bet that's what they use for insulation in the walls at the Colonial Ale House," he tells his friend.
What about the cork? Satch asks and Neal frowns.
Um, what about the maritime exhibit, they hear Vincent suggesting.
"Great idea!" Neal clasps his hands together. Hugging the dog one more time, he chuckles. He has no idea what he would do without his dear animal friends. He cannot imagine how lonely it would feel to have no one but himself to care for and talk with. "I love you two so much," he tells his pets and hears Vincent chuckle at that.
Just remember to buy tuna while you're at it, the cat then lazily says.
"And remind me to get some whiskey for Mister Keller too. Our stock has looked near empty today," Neal adds a bit absentmindedly, getting up from the grass. He would really want to know what exactly that whale Mister Keller is hunting for is. His mentor can be a bit too uncommunicative at times.
Next: After the bidding