Chapter 6: Second Timothy - Oh My God!

Poor David, Wendy decided to flip a coin between two movies...

HEADS: "Swiss Family Robinson", a Disney adventure as cheesy as the book,

TAILS: "Psycho", an Alfred Hitchcock super horror thriller.

Tails it was and they headed downtown to the Majestic to watch Alfred's main claim to fame. For 1960, it had all the necessary ingredients to guarantee David a severe case of the hee-bee jee-bees:

... Murder with sharp objects; much more painful than bullets.

... dual personalities; too close to home.

... ignorant, scoffing cops; his hometown.

... dark rooms; oh god ... night light please.

... spooky music; guaranteed to scare the living daylights out of a statue.

... all that shit; ayup.

Not quite as scary as 'The Sand Pit, ' a movie that sent half the audience screaming from the theater, 'Psycho', never the less, spooked David so bad as to gain third place in his all time list of 'Never Again' movies, second place going to 'Rosemary's Baby.'

However, 'Rosemary's Baby' was eight years in the future ... So 'Psycho' occupied second place for the time being.

Although she hadn't slept like she did that night since they were married, Wendy once again, ran like a puppy in her sleep, directed the Boston Pops orchestra, spent most of the time on David's side of the bed and pushed him out twice.

None of which woke him up ... he was already awake. David and scary movies do not get along.

Amazingly refreshed, Wendy drafted David ... and the Suburban ... the dynamic duo headed back to the rockslide and the Wendy sized tunnel.

No amount of talking could convince Wendy to stay out of the cave. David held her rope until she tugged it twice. Dropping his end, he picked up 'Submarine Warfare during WWII', leaned up against the cliff face and started to read.

He never noticed the slow slither of a recalcitrant rope. Ever so slowly it slid into the cave. David, exhausted from a night of recalled terror, was asleep in seconds.

Not the best of door guards.

Wendy never noticed the rope. She was walking down the passage behind Opening Number Two.

Arbitrarily designating 'WAY OUT' as EAST (it was) and NOON(it wasn't), Opening Number One held the Eye and Puddle. Eleven O Clock was her label.

Eventually, Wendy would become confused as to which passage went where. Thank God for orange dayglow paint.

Passage number two, Ten o Clock, had an upward slope to it. Wendy reached the end ... there was a blast of cool air, the odor was of old books and paper.

Not as crawly as 'WAY OUT', never the less, it was hands and knees, and a couple of stomach slithers. She pushed her backpack in front of her. There was light ... a vent grill that pushed out ... Wendy stood behind a massive Walnut desk.

Wendy was in the 'shelves' of an ancient library. Not books ... scrolls.

Wound on Walnut Rollers and stored in elaborate wood cases with glass covers, the wisdom of the sages was stored in this huge room.

There was no dust...

'come to think of it, there was no dust in the metal vent, ' she thought. 'There should be dust everywhere.'

There were sections of scrolls written in Latin, Greek, Aramaic, Hebrew, Sanskrit, Norse Runes, Gallic, Russian, Japanese, old Japanese, Egyptian hieroglyphics ... Languages phonetically spelled ... languages entirely based on the Atomic Chart, picture writing, Sir Arthur's 'Dancing men, ' Sign language.

One whole section was math formulae. Others were lists arranged by chemicals.

Invisible inks and the compounds to reveal them.

'David would love this, ' she thought, standing in front of a gigantic scroll of Phoenician sea tactics. The scroll was slowly moving. When she looked away, the scroll rewound. She looked back ... it started to move again. She tried again. The scroll rewound. She looked ... it began it's slow journey ... watching with her eyes, she let her mind roam free. The scroll stopped, rewound just a little, and oscillated, moving forward ... moving back.

"Ok. You caught me."

The scroll shook like laughter.

A tiny tear started at the top of the scroll.

"Oh! Be careful. You'll rip." she pointed at the beginning of the tear.

The right hand roller tilted out and 'LOOKED' at the tiny tear. A pulse emanated. There was a creak and a clatter. A stepladder walked four square to the scroll, the ladder 'hipped' Wendy aside ... stretched ... looked. It couldn't find the tear.