The Veiled Legacy | PJO - Book Two

fifteen

HAZEL HAS A PICTURE OF LEO?!

Hazel led her friends along Third Avenue. The railroad station was still there. The big white two-storey Seward Hotel was still in business, though it had expanded to twice its old size.

They thought about stopping there, but Hazel didn't think it would be a good idea to traipse into the lobby covered in mud, nor was she sure the hotel would give a room to four minors.

Instead, they turned towards the shoreline. Hazel couldn't believe it, but her old home was still there, leaning over the water on barnacle-encrusted piers. The roof sagged.

The walls were perforated with holes like buckshot. The door was boarded-up, and a hand-painted sign read:

ROOMS - STORAGE - AVAILABLE

"Come on." she said.

"Uh, you sure it's safe?" Frank asked.

Hazel found an open window and climbed inside. Her friends followed. The room hadn't been used in a long time. Their feet kicked up dust that swirled in the buckshot beams of sunlight.

Mouldering cardboard boxes were stacked along the walls. Their faded labels read: Greeting Cards, Assorted Seasonal.

Why several hundred boxes of season's greetings had wound up crumbling to dust in a warehouse in Alaska, Ariana had no idea.

"It's warmer in here, at least." Frank said. "Guess no running water? Maybe I can go shopping. I'm not as muddy as you guys. I could find us some clothes."

Hazel climbed over a stack of boxes in the corner that Ariana guessed used to be her sleeping area. An old sign was propped against the wall: GOLD PROSPECTING SUPPLIES.

When Hazel moved the sign, photos and drawings were still pinned there (Ariana guessed they were Hazels). The sign must have protected them from sunlight and the elements.

They seemed not to have aged. Her crayon drawings of New Orleans looked so childish. Had Hazel really made them?

A woman (again Ariana guessed it was Hazel's mother) stared out at her from one photograph, smiling in front of her business sign: QUEEN MARIE'S GRIS-GRIS - CHARMS SOLD, FORTUNES TOLD.

Next to that was a photo of a boy at the carnival. He was frozen in time with his crazy grin, his curly black hair, and beautiful eyes. He looked like Leo, Ariana noticed.

Frank's fingers hovered over the photo. "Who...?"

He saw that she was crying and clamped back his question. "Sorry, Hazel. This must be really hard. Do you want some time -?"

"No." she croaked. "No, it's fine."

"Is that your mother?" Percy pointed to the photo of Queen Marie. "She looks like you. She's beautiful."

Then Percy studied the picture of the boy. "Who is that?"

"That's ... that's Sammy. He was my - uh - friend from New Orleans." She forced herself not to look at Frank.

"I've seen him before." Percy said.

"You couldn't have." Hazel said. That was in 1941. Hes ... hes probably dead now."

Percy frowned. "I guess. Still ..." He shook his head, like the thought was too uncomfortable.

"He looks like Leo." Ariana frowned, looking at the picture. "Like a carbon copy. Mate, that is literally Leo."

Ariana shuddered. "That's creepy."

Frank cleared his throat. "Look, we passed a store on the last block. We've got a little money left. Maybe I should go get you guys some food and clothes and - I don't know - a hundred boxes of wet wipes or something?"