Consider the Stars

Giel

Anna woke up feeling refreshed and well rested, the strange journal seeming a million miles away.  Before she went to sleep she had fantasized about some lost store of treasure being buried where the diary told her to dig.  She had every intention of seeing exactly what was buried there.  She knew this though she regretted she would probably have to break up some of the concrete in the basement in order to do it. 

Not an easy thing to explain, she thought to herself.  She couldn't imagine how she would explain that one to Ms. Stokel when she eventually left the place.  Logic told her she should leave it alone, that it was probably some old man's memories in pictures and perhaps more journals. 

She tossed around in her head all the possibilities for what might be buried there as she made her coffee and fixed breakfast for herself and Heather.  Heather was sleeping late as usual.  Even though she loved having her around she realized she would be more than glad when summer vacation was over. 

She was a history teacher so she knew that much of what the man was reporting actually took place.  The Louisiana purchase did take place around then and she even recognized some of the men he had mentioned.  Most were low level government types – Senators and Congressmen from a bygone era.  She was dissapointed she hadn't read the name of somebody real important from that time period – like James Madison, Andrew Jackson – or even someone mildly famous like Nathanial Hawthorne.  But, the fact none of those names were mentioned spoke more for its authenticity than anything else she figured.

The phone rang, it was her mother, calling from Seattle.  She was asking when Heather was going to fly up to see her.  Anna always sent Heather to her mother's for at least a week or two each summer.  It gave Heather a chance to meet the rest of the family and gave her some much needed time alone.  Sometimes she thought she did it more for herself than she did for her daughter. 

"So what has our illustrious historian been up to?" her mother asked.

"I don't know about illustrious but I have been working on the course for next semester."

"Anything interesting?"

"Oh just the Renaissance.  Not one of my favorite periods but when you are still hoping for tenure you take what they can give you." She said.

"When are you sending Heather up?"

"Her flight leaves later today.  I will get her packed up this morning and then run her to the airport.  I think her flight is supposed to arrive at Seatac at 4:00 your time."

"Can you check please? I don't want to stay at the airport any longer than I have to."

Anna rolled her eyes.  Her mother was not one to be made to wait.  Her whole life was lived in a rush.  It had to be were Heather got her ADD from.  She figured her mom would have been diagnosed too if she had been born 40 years later.

She rummaged through the papers on the desk looking for the flight confirmation she printed out.  Finally she found out stuck between last semesters syllabus and the one for this semester she was still revising.

"Okay, yeah, it says 4:00.  There is a layover in Denver for an hour."

"Fine then, tell her I will be waiting outside just like she would prefer."

"Okay, I will tell her." Anna said.

Last year Heather made a fuss of her Grandmother waiting for her at the arrivals area.  She felt that since she had turned thirteen she was old enough to be treated like an adult.  When Anna protested she reminded her of all the increased security since 9/11 and Anna capitulated.  In some ways she reminded her of herself; wanting to be an adult much too early.

"Anything else Mom? I have to get going.  I have some things to do before driving to the airport."

"Nope I guess not.  I will look for and in the meantime you take care of yourself."

"Don't forget to call me once you guys are home okay?" She reminded her.

"Will do.  Talk to you later."

Anna told her bye and then hung up the phone.  Her mom was always good to her and she had no real complaints but she knew that since Dad died she was sort of lost.  Spending 40 years with someone can make you feel that way she figured.  Her record for a long term relationship was a mere eighteen months and she didn't see herself breaking it anytime soon.  She only hoped that one day she could be as in love with someone as her mother had been with her father. 

She quickly put the eggs on and went upstairs to rouse Heather. She had left the television on all night, as usual. 

"Wake up sleepyhead!" she said rather loudly.

"I'm awake already mom, okay?" Heather said as she struggled to open her eyes.  She had never been a morning person and Anna knew that that was one thing she most certainly got from her. 

"Well you need to get up and get showerd and come eat breakfast.  You have to be in the airport in..." She quickly looked at the clock, noting it was 11:00, "...about 2 hours." 

"Okay, okay," she said as she struggled to get out of bad. 

"What were you doing up so late last night?" Anna asked.

"Just watching television.  Well, Jenny Milder called and we talked for a while.  I think I went to sleep around 2 AM or so."

"Not too bad," her mother said.  "But, when you are at your grandma's I don't want you staying up too late you understand?"

"Yes mom."

"Okay now get going.  I will be downstairs."

She left Heather to do her things and felt relieved she wouldn't have to help her pack.  She noticed that she had already packed herself and had the suitcases by the door.  Regardless about some of her other characteristics she was a responsible child and she never really had to worry about her.  She felt blessed in that regard at least.

She retrieved the diary from the desk where she had left it last night and layed it out to read while she ate.  She flipped through it realizing that almost every page had been filled out.  She knew that even reading through it once she was liable to miss things.  Whomever the man was that kept it, he was thorough if nothing else.








The bar was crowded and squalid and one of the lowlier establishments on Boston's east side.  Most of the clientell worked at the docks or somewhere else close to the port.  Hard working and hard drinking men for the most part. 

Nathan Black liked to come here because this was near home – the same neighborhood where he grew up – a very long and hard twenty years ago.  These were his kind of people though he had pushed himself to get out of beantown – and even did so for 10 years before it all fell apart.

"Could I get a another vodka please Miss?" He asked the waitress.

The waitress took a moment to assess just how drunk he was before smiling and heading back to the bar.  He made note of that because that meant he would probably have to go to another bar down the street if he wanted anything else.  And one thing he knew was that he did in fact want something else – a lot of it.

He had seen better days.  He ruminated on everything that ocurred last week through a drunken haze that somehow made it all seem not so bad.   First there was the divorce which was finally final – after a long three year court battle; then there was the fact he lost custody of Jenny at the same time as receiving a allimony judgment large enough to take care of her himself three times over; and lastly there was the bankruptcy which didn't help anything since it was functional rather than strategic. 

He was trying to think of any possible way he could survive and pay alimony and still feed himself but nothing short of winning the lottery came to him.  Of course there was "his business" which people paid him nicely for when and if they needed his services – which wasn't that often unfortunately.  Of course there were not too many bibliophiles who also doubled as "finders and locators of rare and antiquarian books of any age, any place and any time period."  For the last year or two he had found himself chasing down Rosicrucian and Masonic texts from the turn of the century. 

Of course his customers weren't just looking for the typical first edition.  Most who called him were looking for texts owned by someone at one time (like Davinci's family Bible or Shakespeares original notes to "The Taming of the Shrew") or they were looking for texts so obscure that 99% of book dealers would not know what they were talking about.   It was his job to know those things and as a result he found himself the proverbial jack of all trades who knew a little about everything but a lot about nothing. 

The waitress finally arrived with the Vodka.  Just in time too he thought.  He was about to lose his taste for reliving bad memories.

She placed it down on the table for him and then wrote the ticket out.

"Will you be paying here or would you like this to go on your tab?"

She was attractive in a collegiate sort of way.  He usually went for older women and this girl had to be mid twenty's.  That put her about 15 years younger than he.  But desperate times call for desperate mesasures.

"I'll take care of it here.  And you said your name was...?"

She smiled and looked down at her name tag as if to remind him of how stupid that line was.

"Oh yes, the name tag! Well...(reading) Mindy I do appreciate your....giving me these drinks and such.  Very fine job you do."

He suddenly realized he was making a fool of himself.  There is a reason his ex-wife was an introverted bibliophile too – she was in his element and when they shared a class covering early Christian texts in Africa the transition from work to play came natural.  But the bar scene and picking up girls had never been his cup of tea – which he was so sorely reminded of at that exact moment.

He let her wander off without acknowledging the rest of the conversation.  It was a lost cause anyway.  He was drunk.  She was too young and he was in no position to pay for a date anyway. 

He sipped the rest of his vodka and tried to formulate some plan for his future as his cell phone began to ring.

"Hello"

"Nate Black?"  It was a woman.  Her voice had that unmistakable note of concern in it.

"Yeah, that's me.  How can I help you?"  He replied.

"I understand you are an expert in esoteric books and have a knowledge of the occult.  I got your name from a friend.  He told me you might be able to help."

"Okay.  Yes, well I run a book location service and do a bit of research on the side.  Mainly old books.  A lot of them are occult."

"Good.  Then I think I have something you might want to take a look at."

"Where are you exactly Ma'am?"

"I am in New Orleans.  Can you be here by tomorrow?"

"Well I don't know if I can get there that quick."

"If you aren't here by tomorrow I will be gone.  There is something going on and I think someone is watching me.  I have to leave soon."

This was unusual he thought to himself.

"And you think this is because of the book or books you want me too look at?"

"I don't have time to explain.  If you want to know more then meet me tomorrow at my house.  It is on Ursuline street in the Quarter."

He took down the address.

"I hope to see you then.  Goodbye."

She hung up the phone before he even had a chance to ask any further questions.

He finished the rest of his Vodka and tried to figure out what kind of book would be important enough to cause someone to be in danger of murder.  He quickly decided it wasn't that unusual.  Books have been driving people to kill for thousands of years.