Temporal Exploring 101 - First Transit

I.33 Jake Something-or-other

The next morning after breakfast, Sir Colin Firth approached Natty, Nancy and me.

"My son tells me that you are in possession of a signet ring with our family crest on it. Would you mind if I take a look at it?"

"Not at all. In fact, I would greatly appreciate it if you could help us trace its origin."

Natty took off the ring and handed it to him.

Sir Firth inspected it closely. "Yes, this is indeed my ring. See, those initials C and F here?" He handed the signet ring back to Natty. "If you don't mind telling me, I would be interested to learn how that ring came into your possession."

So Natty told him what we had learned from Thea. How on a stormy, rainy night, fifteen years ago, a strange young man had delivered a small sleeping child – Natty – to a London orphanage. A young man who had been hurt. Badly hurt, with blood all over him. How he somehow had convinced Thea Alcott, who had been on duty on that particular night, to take in the child and to pretend that she had found her on a bench outside the orphanage. How the young man had refused to go to a hospital, claiming he would not survive the night if he did so. And how he had handed Thea the signet ring, with the remark that it might prove helpful for the child to have that ring, in later years.

"That young man wasn't you, Uncle Colin, or was it?" Nancy asked.

Sir Firth, who had been listening to Natty's story in silence, shook his head.

"No, that young man wasn't me, Nancy. Though I have a pretty good idea who he may have been. Or perhaps, from whom that young man may have acquired my ring."

Seeing us all look at him expectantly, he smiled.

"To explain, allow me to tell you a story from my youth. It was a bit more than sixteen years ago. I was a few years older than you kids are now, but not that much older. I was attending Eaton, then. In the holidays, together with a few friends I took a trip to the States. We went hiking and camping, and we visited most of the famous National Parks: The Grand Canyon, Yosemite, Bryce, Yellowstone. We had a grand old time."

Ian and Francine's father smiled fondly in memory. "Anyhow, at one point, in a group with other students we had met, we got the idea into our heads to go spelunking. You know, exploring caves. Nobody of us had any experience whatsoever with that, we just thought it would be a splendid adventure. So, equipped with nothing but a few flashlights, we entered the extended system of caves in Burlitt, a small State Park located near the border between New Mexico and Texas. Those caves were partly under water. "

He shook his head. "It was quite irresponsible behavior on our part, and one might say that we deserved what happened next. What happened was an unexpected change in the weather. There were storms and heavy rains, and as a result, there were flash floods – sudden floods that filled large parts of those subterranean caves and tunnels with water. When we finally realized the danger, it was almost too late. Even worse, I had gone off exploring a bit on my own while the others were taking a break, and I had managed to lose my way.  When the tunnels began to fill with water, the rest of our group went in search of me, but could not find me. Eventually, they gave up, quite correctly realizing that their first priority must be to save their own lives. Fortunately for me, there was this one guy, a chap by the name of Jake. Jake something or other, I don't remember. Anyway, Jake refused to give up on me. While the others retraced the way we had come and indeed managed to leave the system of tunnels before the caves were completely flooded, Jake went looking for me and, against all odds, he found me. That was a good thing too, because by that time, I had become completely lost and most certainly would have died down there."