Spring-Heeled Jack (15 page)

She turned and looked at him with her
warm brown eyes and gave him a smile that no one else could match.
“Good morning, birthday boy.”

Atticus wanted to rush up and hug her
until his arms fell off, but his body wasn’t listening. Instead, he
just stood and stared at her like an idiot.

“
I-Is breakfast
ready?”

She laughed. “Quite the demanding
little booger now that you’re ten, aren’t you? Not even a ‘Good
morning, mom?’”

Atticus blushed and mumbled back a
good morning.

“
Gracias,” she said. “And to
answer your question: no, breakfast is not ready yet.”

“
But, mom,” Atticus
playfully complained.

“
Oh hush. You weren’t
supposed to be up this early.” The two laughed and it was
wonderful. For a moment, Atticus forgot he was in a dream. He was
just so excited to be back with his mother. He’d forgotten how much
he loved her voice, her random Spanish expressions, and her
laugh.

As their laughter died down, Atticus
looked all around. “Where’s dad?”

“
He’s in the workshop,”
Isabel said. “He might have a special birthday present for you if
you want o get it a little early.”

Atticus’ eyes beamed. Isabel urged him
along to go down into the basement, and he gleefully did so. He
sprinted to the basement door, but froze up before he could open
it. Despite being in a dream, Atticus still couldn’t open the door.
But, feeling his mother’s hand on his back and her reassuring voice
gave him the confidence.

The workshop was, for lack of a better
word, chaotic. Tubes of condensed plasma ran across the ceiling and
the walls, illuminating the room. Dozens of boxes, crates,
containers, and cabinets contained a wide variety of springs,
gears, wire, tools, and other contraptions. Buzzing electric
conductors held what could only be described as bottled up plasma.
It was the glorious laboratory of a mad scientist, and at the
center of it was, passed out at the workbench, Atticus’ father:
William.

Atticus quickly ran up and shook his
father awake. “Dad, wake up!”

His father, still in a sleep induced
daze, jumped to his feet and quickly turned to his son, nearly
falling in the process. Atticus inherited both his scraggly mess of
blonde hair as well as his bright blue eyes.

“
Why good morning! You’re
sure up awfully early, scamp.”

“
Dad, it’s not that
early.”

William looked like he’d barely slept
that night. He rubbed his face and pulled out a little silver
pocket watch. After flipping the cover, he saw that it was just
barely turning nine o’clock.

“
Oh dear,” he mumbled as he
shoved the watch back into his pocket. “I overslept!”

He turned back to the workbench and
hectically boxed up whatever he was working on. Atticus assumed it
was the special present his mother had mentioned, but he couldn’t
get a good peak.

“
Darling, did you really not
finish it in time,” Isabel asked.

William gave her an unassured smile.
“I want to make sure it’s perfect.”

“
And sleeping will make it
perfect?”

“
More so than working on it
half asleep!”

Isabel gave him a disappointed sneer,
but William fought back with a mischievous smile.

“
C-Could I get a peak,”
Atticus asked.

Both William and Isabel averted all
their attention to their son.

William said, “I’m sorry son, but we
want it to be a surprise!”

“
Yes, and it’ll be well
worth the wait,” Isabel said. “We promise.”

“
Well, I can’t really
promise.” Atticus knew that making promises was not something his
father was keen on. He didn’t like making them out of fear he’d
break them.

Atticus’ head fell. He wasn’t that
sad, but he thought that maybe if he looked sad enough, especially
on his birthday, it would convince them to give him at least a
little peak. However, both his parents stood their
ground.

William reached out and patted him on
the head. “I’m sorry, Atticus. I really am. But, I’ll have you know
that it will be done very, very, very soon!”

Atticus didn’t look to
convinced.

William looked up at Isabel with a
concerned look. She returned it with one that said: “This is your
fault. You fix it.”

He figured he couldn’t just give his
son nothing on his birthday, so he improvised. He turned back to
his workbench and began to rustle through some of the drawers,
eventually finding a very familiar brass locket.

Everything was silent for a minute.
Atticus remembered it very clearly.

“
Darling, no,” Isabel said.
“You can’t give him that.”

But, William smiled and said, “Don’t
worry. Everything will be fine.”

Suddenly, Atticus was back in his
regular body. The workshop had faded into nothing but a black
abyss, and both his parents stood across from him.

“
Son, I want you to have
this,” his father said. “It’s not much, but it’s very
special.”

“
William, please, we can’t
do that,” his mother said. The fear in her voice was real. Atticus
never knew why she was so afraid of it. At the time, he thought it
was just motherly concern that he would break or lose something so
delicate, but now that didn’t seem to be the case.

“
I know it’s not much,”
William continued, “but as long as you have this, we will always be
with you.”

“
Mom, dad,” Atticus shouted,
“what’s going on? What is all of this?”

It was foolish, Atticus thought,
trying to talk with his dream, but it only felt natural.

Almost as if they were really with
him, his parents looked at one another with concerned looks. They
looked like they knew what was going to happen to them, but there
was nothing they could do.

His mother reached out and
gripped his right hand, causing the
Queen
of Spades
to glow a bright blue in the
darkness. When Atticus looked at her, something was different. She
wasn’t quite the same, but he couldn’t put his finger on it. She
looked him in the eyes, completely ignoring the glowing tattoo on
his hand.

“
The Jack
lies to you.”

Atticus bolted up in his
bead. He looked down and saw the
Queen of
Spades
still glowing. He then turned and
looked out the window to see the sun just barely peaking up over
the horizon. The seven o’clock bell would chime any
minute.

He rolled out of bed and hobbled his
way to his desk where he left his locket. Atticus sat down and
stared at it, thinking about what his mother had said.

“
The Jack
lies,” Atticus mumbled. He put the locket back
down on the desk and stared at the
Queen
of Spades
that was slowly fading away. He
remembered his dream where the Ghost attacked Varnum. It had a mark
just like his: The
Jack of
Clubs
. The Ghost was
The Jack
.

Atticus decided to head out for an
early breakfast. He couldn’t stop thinking about his dream.
Apparently, this was becoming a thing with him.

The one thing that shook
Atticus more than anything was his mother’s last moments. It wasn’t
her who told him about
The
Jack
, but an imposter. Just someone who
looked like her. His dream was playing with him, just like how he
was in his grandparents’ house instead of his own. Still, he
couldn’t get that woman out of his head. She was his mother, but
wasn’t at the same time.

He wandered in silence to the
cafeteria, and when he arrived he saw Camila’s usual group of
friends already at their usual table, but Camila herself wasn’t
with them. Atticus began to fear the worst and that the Ghost may
have gotten to her.

Atticus made his way up to the group
of girls, despite feeling horribly awkward. As he got closer,
slowly they all looked at him, their giggling coming to an abrupt
halt.

“
H-Hi,” he said. No
response. “I was, uh, wondering if y-you’d seen Camila?”

A girl wearing a bright red bow in her
hair stood up, arms crossed, and glaring at him. “I don’t think she
wants to see you right now.”

“
Or ever, for that matter,”
another girl chimed in.

“
But, you did see her last
night?”

They all gave him a wicked stare. The
girl with the boy chimed in again. “She came back in tears last
night, you jerk!”

Atticus felt his heart sink. He was
glad she was safe, but he never wanted to make her cry.

“
P-Please, I just want to
apologize,” he said.

The girls gave him the cold shoulder
and turned away. That was when he knew he’d really messed up.
Nothing he could’ve said would make them see that he didn’t mean to
upset her.

Atticus had completely lost his
appetite. As he began to leave, he asked the girls if they could
tell Camila he wanted to talk. One of the girls replied with a
snarky, “Tell her yourself,” which he assumed was just another way
to brush him off, but he was wrong. When Atticus turned around, he
was greeted face to face with Camila, her face and eyes a bright
red.

“
H-Hello.”

The girl reached out and grabbed
Atticus by the arm and dragged him out of the cafeteria. After they
were hidden from the others, Camila let go of him.

“
What happened to you,” she
shouted.

Atticus’ mouth went dry. Now that he
was actually confronted with the situation, he had no idea what to
say.

“
Look, Camila, I’m really
sorry about-”

“
Sorry? Is that all you have
to say?” Camila’s face was beaming. He’d never expected she could
get so angry, but he guessed that what he did would make any girl
angry.

“
N-No, I j-just-”

“
You know, I expected better
from you, Atticus Whaelord!”

Atticus lowered his head in shame. He
couldn’t look her in the eyes. Atticus wanted to tell her the
truth, but if he did, would she even believe him? Would she get
even angrier? He looked up to say something, and he saw just how
devastated she was. She looked like she would start crying any
minute.

“
Please, Camila, I’m very
sorry,” he said solemnly. “It’s just that,” he took a deep breath,
“I was afraid.”

Camila didn’t look pleased with that
answer. “What do you mean afraid?”

“
J-Just that,” he stammered,
“I was afraid of something bad happening. A-And I didn’t want
anything bad happening to you.”

Camila was silent. He could tell she
wasn’t sure to believe him or not.

“
What are you so afraid
of?”

“
I-I just don’t want what
happened to Mike to happen to you,” he said. “I think someone is
following me around, and-”

Camila shouted, “Do you expect me to
believe that?”

Atticus was speechless. “C-Camila, I’m
not lying. I swear!”

She didn’t say anything, and for a
long while, neither did he.

“
Look, if you don’t like me
that’s fine, but don’t make up such ridiculous stories.”

That was the end of the
conversation. Atticus tried to say something, but his voice
wouldn’t cooperate and even if it did, it wouldn’t help. Camila
wasn’t going to believe him. Why would she? If he hadn’t
seen
The Jack
with
his own eyes, he wouldn’t have believed it himself.

He left without a word.

Noon quickly approached, and Atticus
made his way to Zebulon Headquarters at the heart of the city. When
he arrived, he was greeted by a sharply dressed receptionist man.
Atticus told him that he was meeting Detective McCloud, and the
receptionist asked for his name. Atticus did as the man told, and
was then told to take a seat and wait for the detective to
arrive.

After a couple of minutes, McCloud
arrived wearing his own snazzy outfit as opposed to his trench coat
and fedora. He wore a black pinstriped sports jacket and his hair
was carefully slicked back.

McCloud greeted him and the two made
their way into the heart of the headquarters; something he would
never forget. The building was a perfect, well-oiled machine.
Machines of all shapes and sizes kept the building running
smoothly. As opposed to the traditional plasma tubes that lined
most walls, Zebulon Headquarters was experimenting with plasma
panels that lined the ceiling. Steam and spring powered hydraulic
pumps transported documents and objects throughout the building,
and engines of all kinds kept the building powered.

Atticus was struck with awe as he and
McCloud made their way through the building. All different kinds of
engineers, designers, scientists, and artificers made their way
from room to room. Atticus could only imagine what each of them had
planned. Anyone of them could’ve introduce the next big device that
would keep the country running. It was everything he’d imagined
from the world headquarters and more.