My Journal

By Harriman Nelson

5. The Quest

“I’m okay, Harry, really I am,” Edith tried to convince me as soon as she’d opened her less frequently used (or known) townhouse door in response to my ring.

“I tried to call. I thought you might be in Granny’s old place,” I said, as I sat my luggage down in the entryway and embraced her.

“The cops thought it would be best if I didn’t answer any calls.”

“Do they have any idea who’s behind it all yet?”

“Not yet. Oh, Harry, it’s just horrible! The things they wrote! Obscene, really nasty things!”

“Remember what Mom and Dad always said? About sticks and stones, remember, sweetie?”

“Sticks and stones can break my bones, but words can never harm me? Only they do hurt, Harry, they hurt like hell! They broke up most of the  furniture, the crystal, even that cheap little kitty figurine Mom gave me when I was five. Everything’s ruined. Broke into the safe too.”

“Well, that must have been disappointing for them,” I said, glad that I’d moved anything of importance to the bank vault years ago. In fact the only thing I remembered still being in the house safe was an autographed picture of Rudolph Valentino that my grandmother had treasured.

“The tapestry’s wrecked. Igor’s damaged too.”

‘Igor’ was a suit of armor of questionable vintage. My father had won it in a card game when he visited England. While it might have been worth some money, it was more important to me as a reminder of Father. Of the good times. Of the times he’d dress up in it and creak about with the mace dangling from his hands. He’d scared my pubescent friends shitless at Halloween.

I didn’t have too many friends my own age as I was several years advanced in school, and few of those classmates wanted to have anything to do with the ‘kid’ socially.

Sunday School, the only class I’d ever failed, repeatedly, (I still can’t figure out why all the ‘begat’s’ were so important to my teacher), and the Sea Scouts, provided the juvenile companionship my parents were so concerned about providing their ‘genius child’.

So you can imagine how I still held a soft spot for Igor in my heart. Mother had intended to have it properly appraised some time, but then the accident happened that cost her and the rest of the family their lives. Edith was a mere child and I’m afraid I just never got around to it.

“You look worn out, Harry.”

“Well, it was difficult getting any sleep on the plane.”

“Why didn’t you bring Lee?” she continued, “I saw him limping at the press conference. He was very…sweet what he said to that little girl. I can’t believe Mrs. C. still hasn’t gotten over the adoption....what is it, Harry?”

“I think perhaps I shouldn’t have talked him into it. I don’t want him to have to deal with all of this...this hatred toward us.”

“Harry, you never had to talk him into becoming your son. He’s loved you like a father for a long time.”

“But now...”

“Has he said anything? I bet you don’t hear him complaining about being a member of family, even with all of  this.”

“No. No, he hasn’t. Oh sweetie, if only there were a way to make up for what Sheamus did. Then we wouldn’t be in so much trouble with the public, and our lives wouldn’t be so disrupted.”

“Nothing we can do about it. Not unless you can travel back in time and prevent Sheamus from becoming a slaver, or sneak aboard, free the slaves and take them home.”

“Say that again.”

“Huh?”

My mind was whirling. Time travel was out, of course. I dared not experiment with what was left of Mr. Pemm’s time travel device. Besides, altering time could have vast and possibly devastating consequences for the present including those nearest and dearest to me. But taking those poor souls home...even if only their remains...

“In your family tree research, Edie, did you ever find out where Sheamus’ ship was supposed to have gone down?”

“Only that it went down around Bermuda. Why?”

“There may not be any way to find the Sea Nymph without a lot of time, trouble, expense, and damned sheer luck. But if we  could find her, bring back any remains to be  buried in hallowed ground…”

“Harry,” she interrupted and touched my shoulder gently, “it’s pretty doubtful anything could be left of them, isn’t it?”

“Doubtful, but not impossible. We’ll need help to find her…I’ll call Miss Bates at the museum first thing in the morning...”

“I doubt she has any more info than I have, Harry.”

“Perhaps not, but she may know who might...and if we can recover any bones, any skulls, we can do some facial reconstruction...maybe even do some DNA tests so they can be reunited with their families..countries...”

“Harry?”

“You think it’s a  long shot, don’t you? Well, the attempt might help get  the press off our backs...”

“Maybe you’d better call Lee and tell him what you’re planning.”

“Not until I have all my ducks in a row. A ‘Fait’ Accompli’. He won’t be able to argue with me after I’ve announced my plans to the press. I’m sure he’ll think a fool’s errand, but I’m going to attempt this quest or my name isn’t Harriman Horatio Nelson.”