Part Eleven

A gust of wind whips through the room and opens the antique book to page thirty-five. Stuart wipes the dust particles off the top of the page and begins to read. Arthur and I found the double agent drinking a cold beer and wearing purple and gold beads around his neck like he hasn’t committed any crimes. We are getting closer to gaining evidence to prove that Mr. Gaines is betraying his country by selling confidential information about our country’s military tactics. Arthur contacted a friend who works from the CSI secret agency. He found a black leather ledger with financial transitions. Someone paid Mr. Gaines over one-hundred thousand dollars for information on the United States’ new chemical weapon from Japan. Who on earth has that kind of money? I don’t know. I better not write down any more information; I can feel someone watching me even though Arthur and I are hiding in an abandoned building.

It seems like Arthur was my grandmother’s partner, and they found incriminating evidence against this Mr. Gaines. I can hear someone calling my name and tapping my shoulder.

“Hey, buddy! Where did you go?” Harry calls out from the bathroom.  

Stuart can hear Harry calling him, but he doesn’t know how to respond. How do I go back into the hotel room? Stuart tears the journal entry from the book labeled “Watson Mission 1945” and ties the book’s silky blue ribbon. He slowly places the book back on the dusty bookshelf in anticipation that something else would magically happen. An orange orb appears behind the books on the rustic wood bookcase and slowly opens. He lingers around the room, frightened to go through the hidden bookcase. Stuart takes a deep breath and uses his finger to make a cross across his chest, praying to God to help him get out of this vision.

“Hello?” Stuart calls out.

“Stuart, is that you. I don’t see you.”

“Harry, I’m stuck in another vision.”

“What? How did that happen?”

“The telephone on the desk teleported me.”

“Follow my voice, and I will go near the desk,” Harry says in a shaky tone.

“Do you think if you pick up the phone, I can get back?”

“Possibly, let’s try.”

“Alright, what do I got to lose?”

Stuart dashes towards the orange orb, hoping to see Harry at the end of the passageway. The orange glow evaporates, and Stuart comes face to face with a brick wall with a keypad place randomly in the middle like there was once a door here.

“Harry, can you hear me?” Stuart shouts.

“Yes, I hear you. It sounds like you are in the hotel room next door or behind this wall.”

“Maybe I am. Can you try something for me?”

“Sure, whatever you need.”

“Pick up the phone and dial 1945.”

Harry takes a seat at the desk and brings the rotary phone closer to him. He slowly spins the wheel and dials the numbers that Stuart suggested. The brick wall twitches, and bricks begin to collapse through the floor, opening another passageway.

“Oh, shoot!” Stuart says right before cascading down an old elevator shaft.

Harry is thrown from the desk chair onto the bed as a portal opens up from under the desk. Stuart comes shooting out of the gateway like a clown in a cannon at the circus.

“Holy cow! I made it back,” Stuart cries out.

He immediately sees Harry hanging off the bed unconscious. Stuarts rolls him over and listens to his chest to make sure he’s breathing.

“Harry, wake up!”

Stuart shakes him a few times and calls his name, but gets no response.

“Come on, buddy. Please wake up!”