Hey everyone. Here's chapter two of my story. I'll post the first half now since I'm not done revising the second part. Enjoy.... hopefully.
Chapter 2: London
“So that’s what happened,” John Glennings asked with a raised brow. He was sitting in a red furnished chair behind his desk, his legs crossed and his hands holding a cup of tea. He was wearing a blue suit with a red bowtie and he had a pair of circular rimmed glasses. Gabriel was sitting on a small, wooden chair on the opposite side of the desk. He was wearing his own black suit, and around his neck was the small crucifix Gershom had given him, which he rarely removed.
They were in Glenning’s study, which was a bit larger than Gabriel’s home. It was a simple room that was painted white, but it had a fireplace and a large window that gave a great view of Glennings' large estate.
“Yes, that’s what happened,” Gabriel answered. He was quite thirsty and would have taken a drink of tea, but Glennings hadn’t offered him any. Probably because he wasn’t there on very cheery terms. Glennings had been the man to fund all of his searches for the garden of Eden, but recently he’d been more and more reluctant. Despite having enough money to spare, he didn’t like throwing any away. By the looks of things, this last trip had been the last straw.
Glennings drank the last of his tea and set it carefully on the desk. He adjusted his bowtie and sighed. “Mr. Harper, I’ve been the source of your funds, your benefactor, if you will, for how many years now?”
“Two years.”
“Ah, yes. For two years now I’ve paid for your little… adventures.”
“These are not little adventures,” Gabriel said harshly. “I’m trying to find the Garden of Eden. That, John, is not a little adventure.”
Glennings flinched at how formally he’d addressed him. He obviously found it disrespectful, which didn’t exactly help his situation. “Either way, your costing me money.”
“Yes, but we agreed that…”
“We agreed, Mr. Harper, that I’d pay for your travel expenses if you brought me one of the fruits. And where’s that fruit? Eternal life is beginning to seam less realistic as bankruptcy is becoming more so. You’re a bad investment and I’m going to end it here.”
“Don’t be so rash, John.”
“Mr. Glennings.”
“What?”
“Call me Mr. Glennings.”
“Why?”
“Forget it!” Glennings yelled. “It doesn’t matter what you say, we’re done here.” He produced a small bell from his suit’s chest pocket and rang it loudly three times.
Gabriel wondered what it was for, but he saw a monstrous shadow come up from behind him. He turned around slowly and saw a seven foot high, four foot wide man looming over him. He was wearing a similar suit to Glennings’ but it was blown up a good few sizes. He looked a little embarrassed for having been called by a bell, but he was still intimidating.
“He will escort you out,” Glennings said maliciously.
“For God’s sake, what do you think I’m going to do? Pull a gun on you?”
“Maybe, yes.”
Gabriel pulled his suit’s jacket a little tighter, making sure Glennings and the man couldn’t see the two Webley revolvers in his shoulder holsters. “Just so you know, I’m deeply offended.” He stood up with his hands out in front of him to show he wasn’t going to grab for a concealed weapon . “Since I’m no longer welcome, I guess I’ll take my leave. But as soon as I get a lead, I’ll be sure to give you a call.”
“Don’t bother. I don’t care if you get a map made by Adam and Even themselves. I’m no longer your benefactor, so we have no need to speak.” He wasn’t looking at Gabriel anymore but at the flames in his fireplace.
The man grabbed Gabriel by the arm and said, “Follow me,” in a gruff voice. Gabriel wasn’t ready to leave yet. “Don’t you want to live forever?” He hated having to play that card. The whole reason they weren’t allowed in the garden was because of the tree of life’s fruit.
“I’m content for now.” Glennings said with little emotion.
The man began pulling Gabriel along. He tried to hold his ground, but he wasn’t as strong as the man.
He shoved Gabriel through the door and slammed it shut behind them. He pushed Gabriel through the halls and ignored his struggling.
“I’ll walk now, ok?” Gabriel said after a while. The man continued to push him, so he shoved him off. “I said I’ll walk from now on.” He spoke a little harsher and continued forward. He now knew there was no way he could change Glennings' mind. He had to find another way.
They reached the main entrance, which was basically two twelve foot tall doors that stood side by side. They were made of oak and had a brass doorknob on each.
“This is where you leave,” the man said, motioning towards the doors. Gabriel walked over to one and pulled it open. Despite its size it made absolutely no noise, not even a little creak. Cool, spring wind blew in from the yard. He took a step outside and looked back. “You be sure to tell him that he’s going to regret not sticking with me. Tell him I’ll find that garden yet.” The man chuckled and shook his head as he closed the door behind him.
Gabriel walked down the stairs leading away from the mansion, his anger growing with each step. How was he going to find another person to pay for his search? He’d tried to pay for them himself when he’d first started, but it hadn’t worked out. The job he’d needed had to let him leave for weeks at a time and get money fast. He realized now more than ever that he shouldn't have dropped out of Oxford to go fight in the war. Just one more year and he would have had his bachelor's. Who knows what jobs he could have gotten with that.
Gabriel reached the edge of Glennings' property, which was lined with a long, green hedge. He passed through the gate that was the only way out short of jumping over the leafy wall. He walked down the street and saw a cab driving by. He waved it down, got inside, and told the cabby his address.
He was lost in thought as he watched the buildings fly by through the window. He tried to find a solution to his money situation, but none came to mind. There was no way to continue the search without people willing to invest. Maybe he could get some of the locals to chip in, but that was unlikely to happen. Most of them thought the garden was nothing but a fairytale, or believed that no one should tread in it again. He could try and get federal funding, but after the war Great Britain had been left with a lot of debt. He’d have to find some other way.
The cab slowed down and pulled up to the curb. The cabby turned around and said, “We’re here.” He pointed at the taximeter and asked for his pay. Gabriel rummaged through his pockets and pulled out a few coins for him. He got out of the cab and it drove away, the exhaust pipe leaving puffs of smoke behind.
Gabriel was standing in front of the apartment building he lived in. It was an old, red, brick building that was falling apart in many places. It had concrete steps leading up to the front door with weeds growing out of its cracks. The owner, Mr. Wilkinson, had put a purple canopy along the front as a failed attempt to make the building more appealing.
Gabriel walked sluggishly up the front steps and opened the door. An old, moldy smell creped up his nostrils as he went inside. He was used to it by now, having lived there for years, but when he’d walked in for the first time, it had been overwhelming. He was in a long hall with dark, wood flooring that creaked with every step. The walls had a tacky, green wallpaper that had rectangles sloppily cut out of them for the doors, and a few steps away from Gabriel, there was a large staircase leading to the upper floors. As he was about to go up them he saw Mr. Wilkinson come out of a room. He was a crabby, old man with a large bald spot on the middle of his scalp, making him look like a monk, although he didn’t act like one. In his hand he held a cane, which he leaned most of his weight on. He was humming to himself happily, but stopped the moment he saw Gabriel.
“Well if it isn’t Gabriel Harper.” He spoke dryly and kept an intimidating gaze. Every time Gabriel spoke to him he felt as if he had no backbone. “Getting back from another one of your trips, are we?”
“Yes, I just got back.” Gabriel began inching towards the stairs. Mr. Wilkinson didn’t like him at all, and he hadn’t paid his rent in a while either, so he probably wasn’t happy to see him. “Anyway, I’m in a bit of a hurry, so…”
“Did you bring back any money?”
“No, Sorry, but I still don’t have any for you.”
Mr. Wilkinson’s gaze darkened. He pulled out a black notepad and flipped to the first page. “Do you know what I have written inside here, Gabriel?”
“No, I don’t.” He had a good guess, though.
“It has the names of every person that owes me rent and how much they owe. Do you know who’s name is at the top of this list?”
“Mine?”
“Right you are,” Mr. Wilkinson exclaimed. He shuffled over to Gabriel and, with a spindly finger, tapped the pad where his name had been written. Underneath it there was a long list of expenses from unpaid rents and repairs. “According to this, you owe me about a sixty pounds.”
“What do you mean sixty pounds?” Gabriel exclaimed. He grabbed the note pad and studied it carefully. He made a quick estimate at how much the numbers added up to, and they were far from sixty pounds. “I don’t know how you got that much out of this. I owe you forty at most, and that’s pushing it.”
“Well you can’t have thought I haven’t been adding interest,” Mr. Wilkinson sneered. He snatched back his notepad and put it away. “With how much you’re costing me I better get something extra for emotional strain.”
“You can’t expect me to pay that.”
“Excuse me?”
“I said, you can‘t expect me to pay that.”
Mr. Wilkinson grinned slyly. “Well by all rights I’m able kick you out of your room right now if that’s what you want. That is, unless you agree to pay the interest.”
“Are you blackmailing me?” He said, surprised he’d stoop that low. After all that’s happened, he’s now being blackmailed by an old man that should be too senile to even remember him.
“Blackmail? That’s such a cruel word, and I doubt that‘s appropriate. Think of it as…” His gaze paused on Gabriel’s chest. “And what is this?” He reached out and grabbed his crucifix, studying it with a greedy twinkle in his eye. “Is this real silver?”
Gabriel’s anger resurfaced as he swatted Mr. Wilkinson’s hand away. “I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t touch that.”
“Why not?” Mr. Wilkinson asked in a new state of calm. His eyes were glued to the crucifix. “You owe me money, and if you can afford little trinkets, why haven’t I been reimbursed? It might as well be mine.” He made another reach for it, but Gabriel stepped back.
“I didn’t buy it. I… inherited it.” He didn’t know what he’d do if the old man took the crucifix. Despite their brief meeting, Gershom had saved his life and left quite an impact. He only wished he’d known him longer.
“But…” He reached for it again
“Mr. Wilkinson,” Gabriel said maliciously. “Do not touch it.”
Mr. Wilkinson reeled back as if he’d been bitten by a snake. He’d never seen this side of Gabriel before, and he didn’t like it. His face contorted in anger. “Now you see here!”
“Mr. Wilkinson,” Gabriel said loudly. “You’ll get you’re money, but until then stay away from my possessions.”
He was once again drawn back by Gabriel’s retort. He never acted this way, at least not to him. Maybe the crucifix was more valuable than he’d previously thought.
Gabriel took this chance to start up the stairs. His last image of Mr. Wilkinson was him raising his hand to stop him. He heard him yelling up from below. “Come back here Gabriel, we’re not finished!”
He reached the second floor, ignored the calls, and started down the hall leading to his room.
He walked to his door and stopped as he was reaching for his keys. There was a large pile of newspapers thrown sloppily over his doormat. Frustration set in as he realized that he’d forgotten to call in and say he wouldn’t be needing any for a few weeks. He kicked them angrily, causing them to scatter. He’d wasted more money than he could afford right now just because he’d forgotten to make a simple call.
“You’re not going to help me at all, are you,” he complained to God as he picked up all the papers and opened the door.
Gabriel’s room wasn’t anything spectacular, modest at best. It had basic utilities, ripped up carpet and peeling wallpaper. It was messy with clothing thrown everywhere, for he only had a small closet for their storage. His sink was piled high with dirty dishes, and a strange smell was coming from them, stinking up the room.
He struggled under the weight of the newspapers and walked inside. With a grunt he dropped them onto his table, a few of them sliding off onto the ground. He shook off his coat and threw it onto his bed as he opened his fridge door. A blast of cool air hit him as he searched the shelves for something to drink. At first glance it was completely empty, but at the back he just barely saw a dark, brown bottle of beer. He reached in, took it, and shut the door. He collapsed onto one of the hard, wooden chairs and opened his drink.
What are you going to do now? Gabriel thought. He lifted the bottle to his lips and took a long drink. He sighed and wiped his mouth clean. He had to figure something out or he’d be in trouble.
For an hour or so he just sat there, trying to determine a solution as he drank. Whenever he thought he had it, he’d find a flaw in the plan and have to start anew. As frustration began to develop, he drank the last of his beer and tried to set it down. He accidentally missed the table, the glass falling and shattering as it hit the floor.
He swore and bent over to pick up the sharp pieces of glass.
Fortunately, the bottle had landed on top of one of the fallen newspapers. He carefully lifted the paper up so that none of the glass fell and set it on the table. He gazed at it for a moment and just barely caught the words written in bold print on the front page. “Bible’s Missing Page Discovered.”
Gabriel stopped for a moment in hesitation. It seamed too good to be true having lost almost everything. He quickly reminded himself how often people lied about these things to keep his hopes from rising. There had been countless claims of people mysteriously acquiring religious artifacts. The possibility of it being real was quite low in his opinion.
He walked over to his garbage can and dumped the glass shards into it. He was about to throw away the paper as well, but at the last second he had a strange desire to read it. Even if it was fake, shouldn’t he test every clue and give every lead a chance? After all, he wasn’t in a very favorable position.
Gabriel walked back to the table and sat down with the article in his hand. He made himself comfortable and began reading it.
Louis Schofield, the famed archaeologist, died January 7th, at 8:31 A.M. from a heart attack. Many were left in shock at his sudden passing. “He came to visit me about a week ago,” says Louis’s doctor, William Ault, “It was his annual checkup, and his tests showed no signs of potential heart failure. I couldn’t believe it when I caught word of his death.” Expected or not, Louis was dead and he’d already left explicit instructions for where he was to be buried and how the funeral would proceed. So no more than a week later his family, friends, and colleagues were gathered at a church, expressing their grief during the sermon. Later, after the burial, the will was read back in the church.
Louis, having lived an exciting life, left many interesting things behind. He had old compasses, sextants, pieces of ancient pottery, framed maps, and so on and so forth. But the last object was the most interesting and probably the most valuable. It was given to his nephew, Harry Schofeild. It was an old piece of paper with Hebrewin characters written on it. It was accompanied by a journal, that, to everyone’s surprise, held the secrets of this mysterious page and revealed that it actually should have been placed in the original bible. Not only that, there‘s a rumor that this page speaks of the Garden of Eden, but proof has yet to be made public. All that's known is that it belongs in the book of Ezekiel, having been one of his lost prophecies. “I’m surprised he left something like this to me,” Says Harry Schofield after receiving the page. “He and I barely knew each other. We met twice at most.” Well he must have left quite an impression for him to have received such a great prize.
The page was put through a series of tests after that to prove its legitimacy. After so many months, it has now passed everything the scientists have put up against it. Despite the displeasure of certain religious groups, Harry Schofeild is determined that it’s the real thing, and has now decided to auction it off (details below).
This has angered quite a few...
Gabriel stopped reading. There was still strong doubt in his mind, but a seed of hope had been planted. The article did say that the page had scientific proof behind it, although, science could probably only give a guess at how old and real it actually is. Then again, Louis Schofield was highly regarded. Gabriel had heard a lot about him, and he wasn’t the type to write a whole journal about something he only ‘thought’ was important.
That settles it, he thought. He had to at least see the page in person. If he didn’t it would bother him for the rest of his life. He quickly looked at the date of the auction. It was tonight. He could hardly believe how close he’d been to missing it.
He stood up, clapped his hands together. “I guess I’ve got to get ready.”
Stay tuned for part 2.
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