Chapter 2

The ambient light was bright enough that I could see that the tunnel came to an end after only a few feet. It terminated at a large, steel door, the kind you expect to see on bank vaults, except it was completely smooth. There was no latch, no wheel, no combination dial, no electronic keypad, not even a keyhole to open it.

Of course, my imagination was going crazy as I pictured stacks of hundred-dollar bills and bars of gold hidden behind the door, but there was no visible way to get to it. I looked and felt along the stone walls leading back to the basement, but there was nothing. I even did something completely stupid that causes me to blush and cringe even now. In desperation, I pointed my finger at the door and shouted, “Open sesame!”

Well, you can probably guess how well that worked, Ali Baba’s success notwithstanding.

I checked inside the vending machine, thinking there might be some button or some radio-control mechanism. Nothing. I checked along the basement walls, under paintings, everywhere without any luck.

I finally gave up (for the time being), and turned the key in the vending machine to close the opening to the cave. I knew if I thought about it long enough, I’d come up with a solution. I may not be very well educated, but there’s nothing wrong with my brain. I’m generally pretty good at figuring shit out.

I discovered the house was already internet connected when I turned on the TV and pushed the Netflix button on the remote. I tossed a bunch of pillows on the floor, got comfortable, and brought up an old Clint Eastwood movie (Unforgiven). But I was bone-tired after a long, eventful day and started to drowse about halfway through the movie, so I turned off the TV and headed upstairs to go to bed. I stopped to looked around in the study and found the router/modem for the internet connection and a MacBook Pro. I’d have to figure out a way to make it mine, if I could get into it.

After a quick shower, I crawled into the king-size bed and slept like a log for ten hours, finally getting out of bed because my bladder was about to burst. Jailhouse bunks are like sleeping on morgue slabs, so a real bed was pure heaven!

I made coffee and cooked a breakfast of fried eggs, spam and cheese on a toasted English muffin, a veritable feast after six months of eating jailhouse slop. After breakfast, I put my dirty dishes in the washer, poured another mug of coffee and headed back upstairs to begin exploring the house in earnest. I thought I’d start by seeing if I could get into that computer in the study.

When I sat at the desk and opened it up, there was a note lying on the keyboard that said, “Jesse, log in using your middle name and your number!”

“Number? What number?”

I entered my middle name, Owens (Yeah, I was named after the Olympics champion. Mom’s idea.), then I keyed in my social security number. It didn’t work. I tried my DOB with the same result. Driver’s license number? Nope. I got out my wallet and looked for anything that had a number on it and came up blank.

“Shit! What fucking number are you asking me for? Is everything going to be a puzzle?”

I thought and thought, but I had nothing. “Fuck it! I guess I can just buy a new computer with my first allowance check!”

I got up and headed for the door, but stopped short. There was one other number I hadn’t tried, although I couldn’t imagine how it could have been programed into the computer. I opened the laptop and typed in owens643607, hit enter, and the computer loaded.

“I’ll be damned! My county jail inmate number!”

As the desktop loaded, a flashing icon appeared, saying “START HERE”. I clicked on it and a computerized female voice said, “Place your right hand on the pad.”

There was something connected to the MacBook that looked kind of like an iPad, but it wasn’t. I put my palm on it, and a red light-bar traveled up the screen and back.

The computer said, “Imaging complete and acceptable. Maximum security access is now granted to Jesse Owens Davies.”

“Man!” I thought, “Talk about running a tight ship!”

One of the icons that popped up on the desktop said just that, “Security”. I clicked on it. Eight squares appeared on the screen, each with a different view of the property; the outside of the house, the garage, and a couple of others I didn’t recognize. I discovered I could make the camera move by selecting a view, then sliding my fingertip over the track pad. “That’s cool! I wonder why dear old Uncle was so big on the security thing? Was he paranoid, or did he just have a lot of enemies?”

After playing with the computer for a while to check out the internet speed and what it was loaded with, I took a few minutes to bookmark a few of my favorite porn sites and online story pages, then headed back to the basement to try to figure out the vault door inside the tunnel.

On the way to the basement, I checked the kitchen drawers and found a flashlight. Maybe I’d missed something in the dim light of the tunnel.

Halfway across the basement, something struck me as being not quite right. I stood in the middle of the room and looked around, trying to figure out what it was. When my eyes landed on the couch in front of the TV, and it hit me; it was all straightened up. When I was watching the movie, I’d tossed a bunch of pillows on the floor and propped myself against the couch. The pillows were all back where I found them, and the plate and glass I used weren’t on the coffee table where I left them.

Did I clean up after myself and not remember? That wasn’t my usual habit, because I’m kind of a slob when it comes to that kind of thing.

“Huh,” I thought, “I must have been more worn out than I thought.”

I opened the vending machine door and put the key into the cave lock. It opened as expected. I turned on the flashlight and walked slowly toward the steel door, shining the light on the walls to pick up anything that looked like a button or a switch or something, maybe a loose stone you had to push like in the old horror movies.

Nothing! “Damn! It has to be some kind of remote device. So, where’s the remote control?”

I played the light beam over the door one last time and saw nothing but smooth, shiny steel. Except! Wait! What was that? On the right side of the door, I could see a very fine line etched into the steel. Closer inspection showed the line described a rectangle with rounded corners about seven inches by nine inches, about the size of that pad attached to the MacBook. “Maximum security access”, the computer said. Could it be?

I put my right hand in the center of the rectangle and pushed. CLUNK! CLUNK! CLUNK! CLUNK! The sound of bolts retracting into the door. Then a HISSSS, as it cracked open and lifted upward toward the ceiling. There was light coming from the other side! As the steel door disappeared into the ceiling, two people, a woman and a man dressed in black jumpsuits stood looking at me.

The women smiled and said, “Good morning. You must be Jesse.”

My heart jumped into my throat and I took a couple of steps backward, stumbling and dropping the flashlight. When I got my mouth to working, my instinct and my street sense told me offense would be better than defense, so I demanded, “Who the hell are you?!”

Their smiles never wavered as the woman answered, “I’m Arrena and this is Jellico. We were close friends of your late uncle. May we offer our condolences for your loss?”

They behaved like neighbors at the front door welcoming me to the neighborhood.

They were both tall. I’m six feet even, and Arrena was at least as tall as I am, maybe an inch taller. Jellico was a good six inches taller, yet. And they were beautiful! I know it sounds weird for a guy to say a guy is beautiful, but he was, just in a different way than she was. They were both very slim, but fit-looking. Their skin was kind of light tan with a touch of pink in it, like they were slightly sunburnt. I couldn’t get a read on what race they might be. They both had coal-black hair, cut short, like Mr. Spock on Star Trek. There was something strange about their looks, and it took me a few seconds to figure out what it was. It was their eyes. They were almond-shaped and tilted funny, kind of like a crude caricature of oriental eyes, but without the epicanthal folds. The irises were almost blue-green in color. One other thing; their ears were oddly shaped. They weren’t pointed at the top, but they were definitely not rounded ... more like peaked. And they had no earlobes.

I pulled my mind back to the conversation. “Oh, uh, sure. Thanks. My name’s Jesse, but I guess you already know that, don’t you?”

You know what it’s like when you’re a little kid standing in front of the principal, nervous and talking in fits and starts? Well, that’s how I was feeling. But why? This was my house! What the hell were these people doing here?

I guess they could see the questions running through my mind and Jellico tried to ease my concerns. “Jesse, may we come in and explain who we are and what lies at the other end of this tunnel?”

There was something about his James Earl Jones voice that had a calming effect. I felt myself relax and begin to feel a little more welcoming. “Oh, um, sure, come in. Would you like some coffee? I just made a fresh pot.” I couldn’t think of anything else to say.

They both declined and followed me into the room where we arranged some easy chairs and sat facing each other. Arrena began speaking, and her voice, soft and low-pitched, had the same relaxing quality as Jellico’s. “We apologize for catching you by surprise, Jesse. When you opened the door to the tunnel, we assumed Samuel had left information about us. Did you not have any idea of our presence?”

“No, not really. I found the tunnel by accident. Do you live at the other end? Does it come out in the woods somewhere?”

“We’ll show you where it goes presently, after we’ve had a chance to talk. Perhaps Samuel didn’t have time to give you notice. His illness came on quite suddenly and he was only in hospital for a few days before he died. He told us his nephew, Jesse, would be the new owner if he passed away, so we’ve been expecting you.”

“He didn’t tell me anything. I heard about his death from his lawyer, four days ago. I only learned about this house yesterday, so this is all new to me.”

Then I remembered the letter Spencer gave me! It must still be in my jacket pocket.

Arrena went on, “Before we say more, will you tell us the conditions of your uncle’s will? How long will you be living in this house?”

“Um, I had to sign a contract to stay here for at least five years. I can’t sell it or develop the property or anything like that. In fact, I can’t do anything except live here and take care of the place. I mean I can come and go as I please, but there are some really strict rules I have to follow, like I can’t get married or rent rooms out to other people or anything. If I violate any of the rules, I lose everything.”

“I see. I wish your uncle had had a chance to speak with you, to better prepare you for what you would discover when you took up residency.”

“Well, maybe he did. He left a letter for me, but I forgot all about it until just now. If you’ll wait here, I’ll run upstairs and get it.”

“Yes, perhaps you should.”

I found my jacket hanging on a kitchen chair where I put it when I got back from town. The letter was in the inside pocket. I grabbed it and hurried back down to the basement.

“Here it is. Uh, should I go ahead and read it?”

“Please do. It might provide some explanation.”

I flopped into my chair, tore open the envelope and began reading:

To my nephew, Jesse,

I’m quite certain this is all coming as a big surprise to you. It’s actually a bit of a surprise to me as well. My illness, cancer of the pancreas, has come upon me very suddenly and I’ve had to make some difficult decisions much sooner than I’d anticipated.

Whether you accept the conditions of my will or not, I’d like you to know that, in spite of our differences, I’ve never felt any ill will toward you. You were brought up in a very harsh environment and your defiant attitude reflects your need to protect yourself, to establish your independence. I understand that because I grew up the same way. I doubt you will believe it, but you and I are very much alike.

I chose you as my heir for a hundred reasons that I won’t enumerate here, but chief among them are these: You’re smart, you have a good, strong moral sense, and I believe that when you’re up against it, you’ll have the courage to win through, and you’ll pick the right way to do it. What you are not is an ass-kissing toady like your cousins. I’ll give every penny to charity before I leave it to one of them.

If you choose to accept the inheritance, Johnny Spencer will explain all the conditions and insure that they are carried out. Don‘t resent him or try to buck his authority, because he’s only doing exactly as he’s being paid to do.

There are some things that aren’t mentioned in the will and which Johnny has no knowledge of. If you agree to live in the house, you’re going to discover some things that, for reasons that will become obvious, can never be divulged or even hinted at to anyone, not even Johnny. You will meet some people to whom I owe pretty much everything. But don’t worry, they’re not going to make any claims against whatever wealth I leave behind. That will be yours and yours alone, should you accept the terms of the will.

Jesse, this is very important! These people are incredibly important and unique in all the world! I can’t overemphasize this point. If you do this thing, you must follow through with my efforts to help these people to realize their goal. You must unconditionally devote the next five years of your life to them and their destiny.

I beg of you, Jesse, do this for me and for yourself! Don’t get hung up on the harsh words we’ve exchanged in the past. I know you’re a better person than that.

I truly love and respect you, Jesse,

Your uncle,

Samuel Davies

I was surprised to discover I felt just a little choked up by the time I finished the letter. I looked up and saw them waiting patiently for my comments.

“Um, Uncle Sam says here that your people are unique in all the world. What did he mean by that?”

Jellico spoke, “Before we get into that, Jesse, will you tell us that you have accepted the terms of Samuel’s will, and that you will follow his wishes devotedly? A very great deal rides on your answer.”

I shrugged, “Well, I guess I don’t really have much choice, do I? Not if I’m going to inherit his money.”

Showing a little flash of anger, Arrena said, “That’s not what we want to hear, Jesse! Even if you live up to the letter of your uncles will, that doesn’t mean you share his commitment. If we are to work together over the next five years, you must honestly state your intention to live up to Samuel’s desires concerning us and our people. We can accept nothing less!”

I felt a little shocked and confused at the force behind her words. I asked, “Is that what this five-year thing is about, working for you guys?”

“You wouldn’t be working for us, Jesse, you’d be working with us. In many ways, we’d be working for you.“

I felt like we were talking in circles and my own frustration flashed. “Well damn, people! It’d help if I had some idea what we were talking about here!”

Jellico, again, “I wish we could tell you more, Jesse. In truth, we can’t divulge anything until we have your solemn commitment. I know it seems unfair, but the consequences of a misjudgment on our part could be disastrous. I can promise you that if we have your full commitment, there will be many benefits and no risks to you or your newly acquired wealth. There is nothing outside the law, nothing that is morally or ethically questionable, but we must make common bond, and once sworn, that bond can never be broken! You must trust us on this.”

I looked hard at both of them, trying to pick up something even a little bit off, but my bullshit detector wasn’t getting anything. I decided if anybody was being absolutely straight with me, these people were. Besides, as far as I could see, I had absolutely nothing to lose and everything to gain.

“OK,” I agreed, “I’m onboard. Now, please tell me what I just bought into!”

Jellico looked over at Arrena, nodded his head and said, “Yes, Jesse, we believe we can trust you, but our story is ancient and much too involved to explain in detail in one sitting. I will give you this much, though: As you have undoubtedly suspected, we are not like any other humans you’re familiar with. The truth is, we’re a separate species that split off from a common ancestor about a million years ago, much like proto-humans and proto-chimpanzees split around seven million years ago. Like other hominid species, our kind moved throughout Europe and Asia, but we kept to the forests and chose to remain isolated. In many areas of the world, we co-existed and interacted with your evolving species, Homo Habilis, Neanderthal, Cro-Magnon and modern man, up through the period you call the middle ages. There have been many references to us in your literature, but as we kept mostly to ourselves in the forests, we were often considered to be mythical beings.”

By that time, I was pretty sure I could see where he was going. I’d read enough fantasy stories to recognize the image. Tolkien’s books described them to a tee! I sat up in my chair and gasped, “Are you telling me you’re elves?!”

Arrena looked slightly dismayed, and conceded, “That’s one of the names for our people that appear in your literature. There are many others equally as unflattering. In our common language, we refer to ourselves as ‘Ennahai’, which loosely translates into ‘The People’.”

“No way! I mean, how could you exist without us knowing about you? There’s no place to hide!”

Jellico corrected my thinking, “You’re looking at us, Jesse. Obviously, we’ve been hiding very successfully.”

“But how? Where?”

“We’ll get into that eventually. May I continue with the story?”

“Oh, uh, sure. Sorry.”

“As we evolved through the ages, we developed certain attributes that allowed us to live much longer lives than your species, Homo Sapiens Sapiens. We’re naturally resistant to the diseases that ravaged your populations through the ages. What’s more, we’ve never been a warrior society, so our populations weren’t slaughtered wholesale like yours were during endless wars. In other words, our ability to survive and thrive was far superior to your ancestors. For those reasons, in their ignorance, those humans who had some small knowledge of us began to suspect we were supernatural beings, in league with the demons and devils of their own imaginations.

“Beginning around the time your calendar marks as the tenth century, it became increasingly necessary for our people to remain separate and hidden from your people. Typical of those societies, when disasters like the black plague and cholera devastated large populations, the blame often focused on evil spirits, then on us, because we weren’t dying like the others. We became pariahs, feared, suspected and accused of casting spells and being in league with the devil. We were almost universally condemned to die by fire and hanging, but as we were adept in the forests, we couldn’t be found if we didn’t want to be found. That was our means of surviving the frequent witch-hunts carried out in Europe, and later, in North America.