Back << Page Nine – Index – Page Eleven >> Forward
Home – Writings – Links – The Atma – Sai Baba
LIGHT OF THE ATMA – THE SPARK WITHIN
THEY DIDN’T FIND THIS ONE
efty followed Peter as he was told. Peter had decided to go to his room. He threw himself on his bed, turned on his back and lay staring up at the ceiling. Lefty, trying to be as sneaky as was possible for him, crept up to the door, and as quietly as he could, inserted the key into the lock. He then twisted the key, sealing Peter into his room.
Peter, hearing the click, turned his head to look at the door. A feeling of suspicion uncomfortably swept through him. He sat up and cautiously got off the bed and slowly walked over to the door. He turned the handle only to find it was locked.
Lefty had taken a chair from an adjacent room, placed it in the hall and sat down to guard Peter’s room. He took from his jacket pocket a pair of dice and tossed them in the air to entertain himself. Peter, listening very closely, heard the clacking of the dice as Lefty snatched them from the air.
Peter looked for his key on the hook where it was kept but found it was missing. Uncertain thoughts crossed his mind at that moment. He immediately went to the closet where he kept a spare. ‘Good,’ he declared to himself, ‘they didn’t find this one.’ He went back to the door and listened carefully.
Lefty was restless. He put the dice away and decided to chew on a toothpick. Peter knelt down on one knee, lifted the keyhole cover, and peeked out. He saw Lefty sitting on a chair which was tilted back and leaning on the wall. Lefty had a moronic look on his face. Peter had never seen this man before and wondered who he was. Feeling that the man did not look so bright, he inserted his key in the door lock.
Lefty in fact was not intellectually bright, but he was instinctively swift. He perceived the faintest sound of the key being jiggled in the lock and quickly got up and stuck his key in the other side of the keyhole, knocking Peter’s key out.
“Hey!” Peter protested. He shoved his key back into the keyhole evicting Lefty’s key.
“Hey yourself!” Lefty bickered as he aggressively put his key back into the keyhole. They both had a ‘push of war’ for dominance until Peter’s key was forcibly pushed out by Lefty’s preponderant strength.
Peter stood up and kicked the door, “Unlock this door you creep!”
Lefty, on the other side of the door, feeling he won the tussle, yelled, “Shut up kid – I don’t wanna her yer mouthin off in der!”
There was not much that could make Peter more irate than some stranger locking him in his own room, in his own house. Peter flew into a temper. “Open this door!” he demanded as he whopped the door with the sides of both fists.
Lefty, who was still standing there holding the key tightly in the hole so Peter could not manage to stick his key in, whipped his head back from the loudness of the sound. He then hauled off and kicked the door out of anger from being startled, bellowed: “Shut dat whining mouth of yurs!”
“Whining mouth?!” Peter galed, and in a fit of rage he grabbed whatever vases and other fragile articles available in the room and threw them at the door. Lefty’s eyebrows raised as a smirk came over his face.
He pulled the key out of the lock then sat back down and listened with amusement as the things Peter threw against the door smashed upon impact.
Meanwhile, Peter’s room was piling up with broken pieces of whatever he could throw at the door. Fragments of crystal glass scattered all over the room as they rebounded. Springs and gears from his clock flew to all sides of the room when it crashed. The books that he had thrown lay torn and broken in a messy pile. The tirade he was in seemed to subside for a moment. He looked around assessing the situation, then just stood there for a moment, thoughtless.
As ideas began to re-enter his mind, he faced the door and blustered:
“Who ever you are out there – open this door!” But Lefty just snickered. “So that’s the way you want it!” Peter spoke to himself. He pulled a drawer out of his dresser and flung it at the door. It made such a loud noise, it nearly made Lefty fall off of the chair on which he was precariously leaning. Crogg heard the noise all the way from the study. Surmising that Peter was in a tantrum, he grinned cynically and just sat in his chair and listened on with amusement.
“OPEN THIS DOOR!!!” Peter shouted.
“NO!!!” Lefty yelled back.
This answer from Lefty caused Peter to take another drawer from his dresser. He hurled it against the door sending wood chips in every direction as it shattered. “ARE YOU GOING TO OPEN THIS DOOR?”
Lefty responded by saying, “NO! NO! NO! NO! NO! NO!” This answer was proceeded by about five more drawers which were destroyed upon their meeting with the door until there was only one drawer left.
Peter stood in the middle of the room staring at the door and hating the person on the other side, and Crogg for doing what he did. The moments Peter spent in angered contemplation made Lefty wonder what he was doing.
As moments passed, Lefty’s curiosity grew more intense until it became overpowering. He stood up from the chair and walked over to the door. Just then, Peter decided to take the last drawer from his dresser and throw it. He sailed it through the air with as much might as he could possibly manage, and it slammed against the back of the door just as Lefty was putting his ear against the front of it to hear if he could detect any slight sounds within.
“Yowwwwwo.” Lefty’s voice echoed throughout the mansion. Even the best of opera singers would have had a hard time reaching the pitch he hit. He flung both hands to his head and rubbed his ear. “YOU RICH LITTLE BRAT!” he roared with added profanities and he punched the door with quick successive jabs from his left hand. The jack-hammer raps from Lefty’s fist startled Peter.
Peter decided this was the time to flee from the scene by taking to the hidden passageways he had discovered when he was a younger boy. As he was slipping out of the room via a hidden panel, Lefty was in a fit of verbal threats.
“HEY, WHAT’S GOING ON UP THERE?!” Crogg hollered up the three flights. But Lefty could not hear Crogg over his own cursing. Crogg called up again as he looked up to the third floor, only this time he shouted with more force, “HEY YOU UP THERE? WHAT IN BLAZES IS GOING ON?!”
Knuckles, who had come out from wherever he was, joined Crogg at the foot of the stairs. What servants there were, were buzzing with remarks. Fixing his eyes on Knuckles, Crogg ordered, “Get up there as fast as you can, will ya’? And find out what’s going on and put a stop to it before Lefty knocks the kid out. Then send the champ down. You keep post for a while.”
As Knuckles was skipping up the stairs two and three at a time, Crogg yelled up again. Lefty, hearing his voice this time, walked down the hall; and stepping close to the balcony, leaned over.
“WELL?” Crogg called to him as he held his hands out with a questioning gesture.
“AHHH,” Lefty whined, “DA KID IS THROWN’A FIT DAT’SALL.”
“GET DOWN HERE! KNUCKLES WILL RELIEVE YA!’ And Crogg gave him a wave, then went back to the study.
By the time Knuckles reached the third floor, Lefty was fumbling with the key. “Whatcha doin’?” Knuckles asked.
Lefty turned around. “I’m goin’ in der ta teach dat kid a lesson dat’s what!”
“An’ do what? Get da boss jumpin’ down yer troat an’ mine? Gimme da key,” he grunted, grabbing it impatiently from Lefty’s hand. Noticing that Lefty was holding his ear he asked: “What’s wrong wit chew?”
“Ah – da kid trew sometin’ at da door when I put my ear ta it.”
Knuckles shook his head. “Ya’ featherbrain, get downstairs.”
“Does da boss wanna talk ta me?”
Knuckles mimicked Lefty with aggravation, “‘Does da boss wanna talk ta me?’
“Yeah he wants to talk ta ya! Now, get down here!”
Lefty, nursing his ear, begrudgingly left.
Knuckles shook his head as he watched Lefty leave, then turned and looked at Peter’s door. “Aay Kid – ya’ hear me?”
Knuckles began to wonder why he heard nothing. He took the key and inserted it in the keyhole and unlocked the door then proceeded t o open it cautiously. He curiously glanced around the room then took some steps inside.
Peter’s room was part of an apartment complex which had several other rooms adjoining it, plus the massively large auditorium-size observatory his father had specially constructed for his astronomy studies. And Crogg knew every door and window. He had locks installed on everything that didn’t have them.
Knuckles ventured into the other rooms to see if Peter was in one of them. Not finding him anywhere in the apartment, he scratched his head with wonder, then left the room.
Knuckles went over to the balcony, and peered down, then called, “AAY DOWN DER! DA KID SEEMS TA BE MISSIN’ FROM HIS ROOM!”Crogg walked back to the stairway. “OH DER YA’ ARE,” Knuckles noted. “DA KID AIN’T IN HIS ROOM. I WENT IN TA CHECK ON ‘EM BUT HE AIN’T DER.”
Crogg turned to Lefty, “Look Champ, evidently the boy has taken to hiding. Would you go back up there and help Knuckles look over the rooms?”
Directing his attention toward Knuckles he yelled up: “DID YOU CHECK UNDER THE BED?!”
“Bed? Why didn’t I tink a’ dat?” he asked himself. As Lefty scampered up the stairs three and four at a time, Knuckles went back into the apartment to peek under Peter’s bed and under and behind other things while he was at it.
FOR ANYONE WHO FINDS HIM”
Crogg was in the study when Lefty and Knuckles came back down. They both stood there without saying anything.
Crogg became impatient with them. “Well – did you find the boy?” They both gave him that ‘dumb’ look he hated to see. “Do you mean you can’t find him?!”
Both Lefty and Knuckles tripped over their words trying to find some explanation that would satisfy him. He stood up as though he was the only adult in the room.
“You two need keepers, you know that?! The kid outsmarted you!” They gaped at each other with simpleton expressions and thought of nothing to say in their own defense. “What this means,” Crogg thought aloud, “is the lad is somewhere else in the house, or he’s outside.”
Crogg called all the servants together. “There’s a hundred dollar bill here,” and he waved it in the air for everyone to see, “for anyone who finds the boy. The lad’s under stress and is probably scared, and we need to help him.
Some of you take the house, some of you take the grounds.” And with that order, they went in every direction. In the meantime, Peter had made it down the hidden staircase to the underground passageway that led to the stables.
Crogg pulled a cigar from his vest pocket and lit it as he thought about where Peter might be. Lefty and Knuckles were busy dickering with each other over who was at fault for Peter getting away.
“Come with me you two,” Crogg ordered, putting a stop to their squabble. He strolled across the expansive floor toward the front door with an arrogant gait of artificial confidence.
Lefty and Knuckles followed him. Opening the door he stepped outside and scanned the area for any sign of Peter. As Lefty and Knuckles stepped outside, they began to bicker with each other again.
Crogg had no patience for this. “Shut up you two.” He looked at Knuckles. “You!” he commanded, “check the road!” And you” pointing to Lefty “check the sides of the house and the woods behind the barn.”
As Lefty and Knuckles left to carry out their orders, Crogg stood there with a stare that spoke of his egotistical authority over matters. He watched the birds flying overhead as though nothing unusual was occurring.
Lefty nearly forgot what he was sent to do. He walked about in the woods admiring the wild flowers and was captivated by a fawn that made eye contact with him for just a fraction of a moment before it ran off.
Peter, who was in the stable, heard footsteps outside and peeked out the doors. Lefty decided to check the barn and started toward it. He ran his palm over some of the tall grass as he walked along. Peter hid in the loft. As Lefty stepped inside, he scanned the interior of the barn then got sidetracked with some of the horses.
“Good fella,” he cooed as he petted one.
Hey champ! Find him yet?” Crogg yelled.
He gave the horse an extra pat, then left the barn. Peter could hear him say, “Na – ders no sign of ’em.” Peter crawled over to the front of the loft and peered out the cracks of the boards. He could see Crogg, Lefty and Knuckles talking to each other and prying about in every direction. Peter thought it would be for the better if he waited until dark before he tried to escape.
Crogg glanced around with wonder. “He couldn’t have gone very far. Listen, I’ve got an idea,” and they walked back to the mansion. “Anyone find the boy?” he asked as he called to one servant.
“Not yet Sir, but everyone is still looking.”
“Keep it up.”
“Yes Sir.”
Crogg and his two men went into the study. He sat down behind the desk and puffed away on his cigar. “Sixty rooms…he could be hiding anywhere; and the grounds are so large it could take days to find him; but chances are, he’s not had anything to eat, and that’s in our favor…CORNINGS!” he screamed, causing Lefty to put his hand to his sore ear. “Sorry Champ, I forgot.” Crogg got up and walked to the hallway, “HEY CORNINGS!”
Cornings, Crogg’s personal butler, called back from the other side of the ballroom. “You called Sir?”
“Yes I want to see you,” and he moved his arm in a wave telling him to ‘come here!’ Crogg went back to his desk and sat down.
Cornings came walking in. “Sorry Sir, but I was on the east side of the house when I heard you were calling for me.”
“That’s all right Cornings. What I want is for you to tell everyone that the hundred dollar reward is still in the offering. The lad probably hasn’t eaten in two days so tell the cook to brew up something delicious smelling.”
“Right Sir, I shall do my best,” and he left.
“What else?” Knuckles asked.
“Well – there are two places he might go…to the train station, the other – the docks. But it’s miles in either direction and it’s getting late. I don’t think he’d take the chance of footing it on the roads while it’s light or try to make it through the woods at night.
Chances are, he’s still in the mansion somewhere or hiding on the grounds…” he thought for a moment, “like near the stables so he could buggy-up later.”
He rubbed his chin, then picked up the telephone on the desk. “Operator,” the woman answered.
“Listen Sweet Pea, get me the courthouse.”
“One moment please.” ‘click – click – buzz – click’ “Go ahead please. Your party’s on the line.”
“Court building!”
“Hey Toots, connect me with ol’ fuss face.”
“Oh, it’s you Elmer,” and she giggled. “I’ll ring.” ‘ring, ring’ “I’m free tonight,” she revealed.
“Hello.” ‘click’
“Judge. This is Elmer. I need a little favor.”
“Anything for you,” the judge huffed with irony.
“Ask those two who did that special job for me to keep their eyes out at the station. I’ve lost something.”
“Do you mean someone actually slipped out of your fingers?”
“Listen Judge, you want something, and I want something. If I don’t get my something, you’re not going to get your something, but you will ‘get it’, if you know what I mean.”
“I’ll get them on it right away.”
“And tell them to stay on the job until they hear from me, got it?”
“Got it.”
‘click’
Crogg wiggled the receiver up and down, “Operator, yeah, get me six, seven, four.”
“One moment please.”
‘Ring, ring’
“Hello.”
“Frank, this is Elmer. Listen, you know Michael’s boy?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, the lad’s distressed some, and might show up at the dock. If he does, keep an eye on him and phone me right away. Tell everyone down there, there’s a ‘C’ note in it for them if they spot him. And Frank, an extra hundred for you for being on the job.” ‘click’. Crogg placed the receiver on the phone and leaned back. “Now, all we have to do is wait.!”
It was nearing eight in the evening when a few of the servants entered the barn. He peered over the loft to see what they were doing, and tried to hear what they were saying. The aroma of sumptuous food lay thick in the air. It made his mouth water and stomach growl. He had all he could do to hold his stomach to quell the rumbling so the servants wouldn’t hear it.
At that moment, Crogg was sitting in the dining room chewing the fat with some of his cronies. Finding he had none of his favorite cigars with him, he excused himself and went to the study to get some.
As he reached into the cigar box on top of the desk, he glanced out the side window to see two servants leaving the barn; it was the light from their lamps that caught his attention.
Thinking nothing of it, he took a handful of cigars, closed the lid of the box and began to leave the study; but before he did, he decided he wanted just a couple more, so he turned around, walked back to the desk and scooped a couple more cigars from the box. Just then, another light – this time from within the barn, caught his attention. He sat on the desk, flipped closed the cigar box lid, and gazed out the window in deeper thought.
Meanwhile, Peter was in a hurry. He took a bridle from a hook and slipped it onto a horse. “Take it easy boy,” he spoke in a soft whisper as he fastened the harness straps. “We’re just going to take a little ride.” He petted the horse a few times to keep it calm, then started to move it out of the stall.
“Where you going?” he heard someone say from behind him.
Peter jumped a foot and spun around to see Crogg cockily standing there with his cigar in between his fingers. Seeing that Crogg was not going to try to stop him, he continued to pull the horse from the stall.
“Ah, I see you want to run back to Boston like a baby.”
Peter glared at him. “I’m not a baby!”
“Then why act like one, or pull childish pranks like the one you did this afternoon?”
“I don’t like being treated as a prisoner!”
“Who’s a prisoner? No one is keeping you locked up.”
“Oh!” Peter remarked with disbelief.
“Oh…you mean what Lefty did locking the door on you? Well, what can I say for him? He’s a man who acts on impulse, much like you.”
“Please don’t compare me with your mutant friend!”
“He’s an investment really.”
“An investment in trouble if you ask me.” Peter pulled a small carriage to the middle of the stable.
“Oh, he’s an all right sort of a guy once you get to know him.”
“Well, you won’t mind if I ask you to spare me the privilege!”
“So – you’re going to Boston, to do what? Voluntarily put your foot in the bear trap?”
“What are you talking about?! My grandparents love me! I would have been safe with them by now had you not had me abducted!”
“Now, now Peter, we’ve already gone through that.”
“What you really mean is, you’ve put me through it!”
“You know what you’re really doing Peter? You’re running back to Allison for protection.”
Peter became angry and threw down the reins. “I don’t know what I’m doing back here! Not really! I do know if I stay, there’ll be nothing for me but what you want!” and he backed the horse up to the carriage. “And I don’t fancy your idea of my future!”
“All right, if you want to go to Boston, go.” Crogg took a step closer and leaned against a post. “But for a smart boy, you’re sure doing a stupid thing.”
Peter stopped connecting the horse. “What do you mean by that?”
“Don’t you know the moment you reach Boston you’re going to be caught in the web spun by your grandfather? Your grandfather will ply the courts with every sob story he has. And believe me, he has enough political clout to make right, look wrong. Look Son, in your father’s last will, he specifically states that he disinherits your grandparents for personal reasons and entrusts me to be your guardian.”
“I don’t believe that!”
“Whether you believe it or not Lad, it’s in black and white. Unfortunately your father took a conversation about how I felt you were like a son to me, to heart. And because he trusted me, I guess he felt I would be the best guardian. I say unfortunately, because I never dreamed he would take me seriously. Oh, I meant what I said to him when I promised I would look after you if anything ever happened. The only thing is, I never thought anything would happen. Not that I’m not a man of my word. I made a promise, and I intend to live up to it. This is one of the things I wanted to talk to you about. Listen, in four years, you’ll be eighteen. You’ll be a man standing on your own then. Four years in military school seems just the ticket, for the both of us.”
“What you mean is I won’t be in your hair.”
“Look, your father was a busy man. He was hardly home. I’ve got commitments too. Commitments that are going to take me out of the country.”
“Can I see his will?”
“If it pleases you, why not?”
Peter petted the horse. “I’ll be right back boy.”
Back << Page Nine – Index – Page Eleven>> Forward
Home – Writings – Links – The Atma – Sai Baba