The Golden Telescope

20 - VANISHED

PORTLAND, OREGON – PRESENT DAY

Earl slowly opened the door to the basement bedrooms, convinced he had heard voices. Casting his eyes around, he saw an overnight bag laying open on the black metal bed; clothing was strewn out all over the blanket.

But his nephew was nowhere to be seen.

He let the door swing the rest of the way open, not caring when it cracked loudly against the wall. Crossing the room in a second, Earl O'Brien opened the outside basement door and found Victor posted there, just as he had been all evening.

"Did he come out here?"

"Who? The kid?"

"Who else, idiot?!?" Earl turned and slammed the door so hard the glass inset window rattled, threatening to shatter.

He dashed back up the stairs, shouting all the way.

"Lizzie! Lizzie!"

Elizabeth O'Brien met him at the top of the staircase, burning cigarette in hand. "What is it, Earl?" she asked, clearly bored. She took another lazy drag on her cigarette.

Earl pushed past her into the kitchen. "Jack is gone."

Lizzie spluttered, smoky saliva spraying across the kitchen counters. "What do you mean gone?" Her eyes were wide and accusatory.

"I mean, exactly what I said. He's gone. He isn't in his room. And Victor hasn't seen him, either."

"Well, we had better find him quick. He can't have gone far." She inhaled long and deep on her cigarette as she walked to the dining room window, gazing out into the darkness. "Little brat... Inez is going to be furious."

"No doubt..." Earl agreed. His cheeks were flushed, and a light sheen was forming on his forehead. "We need to be on that plane with him tomorrow morning."

Lizzie turned, and they locked eyes.

"I'll make some calls..." he said.

THE FLANAGAN RESIDENCE - PORTLAND, OREGON

Bill's mobile buzzed violently on his desk, the loud vibration causing it to bounce around on the surface. He glanced at Bart, then quickly got up and crossed the room to look at his phone.

"Earl O'Brien?" He asked out loud, a look of concern coming over his face as he picked up the device and answered. "Hello, this is Bill," he said.

"No, he's not here...We haven't seen him since this evening when we dropped him off at your house." He waited for the response, his eyes widening as he glanced over at his son.

"I know Bart has been waiting for a text back from him...we were hoping he could join us for pizza at our house tomorrow night."

"Oh, you've got his phone. I see. Yes, I do know how kids can be. I hope he's not in trouble because he was with Bart and missed dinner. Yes, I understand about breaking the rules. So, wherever he is, he doesn't have his cell. Oh, he left his backpack? That seems odd. He did mention thinking some guy downtown was following him earlier. Do you think there may be cause for concern?"

Bart jumped out of his chair and was now standing next to his dad, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, anxious for more details.

"Oh, that's good to hear...Of course, I'll let you know right away if we hear from Jack. And you do the same, please. We'll be worried sick until we know he's safe. Okay, thanks, Earl. Goodbye." Bill tapped his phone then stood there, holding it, looking at Bart.

"Jack's gone. Not at home, anyhow. And he doesn't have his phone."

"He must be on his way over here," Bart said, "and since his jerk of an uncle took his phone, that would explain why he hasn't texted me back yet. I wonder why he would leave without his backpack, though. Jack knows you told him he'd need a go-bag".

Bill thought for a minute, then looked at Bart again, considering. Then he said, "Just a warning. Things are about to get weirder for you." Bart raised an eyebrow, but Bill ignored him, set his phone down, then walked across the room to the floor-to-ceiling wooden bookcase covering the far wall. He reached above his head to the top shelf, where he withdrew an ancient-looking, leather-bound volume with ragged-looking pages sticking out from between the covers.

Walking back to the loveseat, he sat down and motioned for Bart to join him. "Try not to wig out here..." he said, then he bent over and placed the book on the coffee table, allowing it to fall open to a seemingly random page. Bart watched curiously. The aged and crunchy-looking parchment was blank, with no text whatsoever visible on the pages. Turning to his father to ask about that, he stopped abruptly, noticing Bill had closed his eyes, and the space between them was deeply creased like he was concentrating intently. Moving his view from Bill's face to his hands, Bart watched as his dad placed his right hand directly over the book, allowing it to hover just above the surface.

"Where is Jack Mac Paidin, and who, if anyone, is with him?" he asked out loud. To Bart's utter amazement, the page responded to the question, automatically filling with words as though someone was writing them with a quill and ink. The lettering was thick and script-like and flowed neatly in straight lines across the page.

"Jack is currently located at Mac Paidin Manor in Dublin, Ireland. He is with Arthur Loyal," Bart read.

Bill opened his eyes and sat back on the sofa, a slightly amused look spreading across his face.

"Well now, isn't this an interesting turn of events? Arthur Loyal, huh? Didn't know the butler had it in him..." He turned to face Bart and almost laughed at the look of utter bewilderment on his son's face.

"What was that? What you did right there? How did you do that?" Bart's mouth was hanging open, and he was staring down at the words on the page in disbelief.

"Oh, that? That was a simple locator spell. It's one of my abilities."