CHAPTER FIVE HUNDRED and SEVENTY-NINE
Monday afternoon — 2:25 p.m.
“Hey,” Jacob said as Blane rounded the corner.
Jacob was standing in the kitchen of the remodel of what was once Nelson’s historic home. There was a television with the sound off on the counter playing the news. Behind Jacob, the top kitchen cabinets hung in the air.
“What are you doing?” Blane asked gesturing to the cabinet.
“Oh, I wasn’t sure about placement,” Jacob said. “I’m not sure if I should put it up higher or lower. How much time do you think Heather and Nelson will spend in this kitchen?”
“Approximately none?” Blane grinned. “I mean, Heather likes to make tea or maybe some cookies. I mean, things could change but it seems like her responsibilities to Olympia keep increasing.”
“Tanesha is taller than you are,” Jacob said. “So’s Jeraine.”
“Tanesha doesn’t cook either,” Blane said. “I mean, I guess if Tanesha’s grandmother decides to cook when she’s here but she’d never going to be here unless …”
“Isn’t that O’Malley?” Blane asked.
Jacob looked at the television.
“Looks like him,” Jacob said.
“I’ll …” Blane said, reaching for the television but Jacob had already turned it up. “What happened to not using your ‘powers’ unless you had to, Superman?”
“I gave up on that prohibition,” Jacob said with a shrug. “Especially when no one’s around.”
“Now, I’m no one?” Blane asked.
“Funny,” Jacob said. “You’re funny.”
“Shh,” Blane said, gesturing to the television.
There was a thud as Jacob set the upper cabinets down. Their attention turned to the television.
“My best-friend’s daughter, Sandy, bought a journal at a yard sale for my father,” Seth said. “He speaks a number of languages and likes puzzles. He translated the journal and discovered hints that there might be a tunnel here, in southern Poland. He also uncovered the journal writer’s identity.”
Seth said the author’s name. The reporters began shouting questions. Seth waited until the chaos died down.
“As you likely know, I personally am happy to answer your questions,” Seth said. “But this has turned into … I only have this statement.”
“You’ll be available later?” a voice yelled from behind.
“Hey, Jim,” Seth said. “There’s so many interested parties here that there’s no way to know when ‘later’ might be. When I know something, I’ll make sure that you know it.”
Seth looked up. Grinning to the crowd of reporters, he added, “I was able to get some photos for you but I’m getting ahead of myself.”
“Is that a bruise?” a woman yelled from the front. She gestured to a place where Seth’s starched white shirt buckled near his collar bone.
“I was hit by an arrow,” Seth said. He gestured an arrow hitting him. “Very painful even with body armor.”
The reporters began screaming questions.
Denver Cereal continues tomorrow…
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