The Golden Telescope

27 - JACK AND GRANDPA EDWARD'S GLASSES

DUBLIN, IRELAND – PRESENT DAY

"It seems more than coincidental, Master Jack, that all of these pieces are coming together at the same time, wouldn't you agree?" Arthur was putting away the last of their late-night snack and closing up the kitchen as he spoke.

"Well, it does seem weird, to me, that there are these connections. First, Bart's dad found that strange telescope. Then I had a bizarre vision when I touched said telescope. Next, I discovered I have magical abilities—-not that they seem to be very helpful at the moment—-only to find out Bart's dad has powers, too. Then, I learned that Pop grew up with my dad. And now you tell me the lady in my visions is my long-lost Grandma Lydia? Yeah, Arty, what in the world is going on?"

The butler shrugged. "I don't know, Master Jack. I sure do wish your Grandfather Edward was here to help us make sense of the whole mess," Arthur said wistfully. "I'm certain he would know how to sort things out."

Jack pulled his mouth to one side, his gaze drifting to the stainless counter in front of him. "I'm bummed I never got to meet him, Arty...A connection with my real family would have been amazing." The butler patted him on the shoulder comfortingly, then they both stood and left the kitchen.

Arriving at the massive staircase leading to the upper levels, they were getting ready to head up when Arthur paused, tapping his index finger to his lips.

Jack stopped, too. "What is it, Arty?"

"I just thought that there is something else you might like to see before you retire to your bed," he paused, looking down at Jack with a small smile.

Jack took his foot off the bottom step. "What is it?"

"Come with me." Arthur turned around and strode in the direction of the library.

Returning to the walnut sideboard and opening the top left drawer, the butler retrieved a yellow manila envelope. Inserting his fingers into the packet, Arthur gently withdrew a pair of spectacles and expanded the frame. Pointing to the side of the pair where the lens met the arm, he looked at Jack. "These are your grandfather's reading glasses. The ones I mentioned earlier this evening when I told you about his death. See here, on the side? Those are his initials." He held them out in Jack's direction.

"Man...so, the last time you saw him, he was wearing these?" Jack reached out to caress the engraved letters when suddenly, he found himself alone in a dark room, lying on a couch.

Straining his eyes, he thought he could make out what looked like a small fireplace on the wall to his left. Red and orange coals were softly smoldering in the grate. And was that a desk over there to the right? Sitting up now, he noticed that this body ached and felt creaky as he moved to readjust his position on the sofa. Grasping around frantically, behind and to the left of where he was sitting, he located a side table where he could feel the base of a lamp. His hands were searching for something—-a match? He discovered a small dish full of them, selected one, and struck it. Lifting a glass hurricane cover, he touched the flame to a cotton wick, illuminating the room with light before replacing the shade.

"Master Jack, Master Jack!" he heard the voice calling his name, echoing as if it wasn't real. And once again, his vision became blurry, and his head was spinning.

"Oh, my gosh! It happened again!?" Jack gasped, looking up at the butler standing over him. He was sprawled out on the floor in front of the walnut sideboard, struggling to catch his breath.

"What is it, Master Jack? What happened again?" Arthur shakily lifted him by the elbow.

Jack raised his finger, then reached into his pocket for his inhaler. Arthur scuttled away as his breathing slowed and returned moments later with a crystal glass of water.