Chapter 3

I woke to my alarm at 730. I yelled at Alexa to shut the alarm off. The sun was up, but it was looking to be a cloudy and rainy day. Alexa confirmed that it was going to rain today, with a high of 98. Ugh, a hot and humid Friday. I didn’t even think about it being the thirteenth.

I double checked that Dad had left for work, and gathered his clothes from the hamper. I threw them in the washer, and set it, then grabbed a cup of coffee. It was cold, so I put it in the microwave, and told Alexa to warm it up.

I added a little splash of dark chocolate almond milk, and sat to think. I noticed a note on the counter, my Dad was reminding me that the paint would dry slower in humid weather, and telling me ‘good job’ on the den and office. I made breakfast, and then started taping up the living room, moving the drop cloths, and getting everything ready for painting.

The rollers were clean and dry, as were the brushes. I started cutting in all the corners. I’d have to get Dad to help me lower the big screen before I could do that wall, but the other three walls could be done today. I thought while I worked. The lights flickered and I could hear the thunder as the rain started at about 2 pm. I had all the cutting in finished, and had rolled the first coat onto two walls. I decided that was enough for the day.

I had the TV on the weather channel while I worked, but it wasn’t talking about our local storm, rather some big fires out west were taking up most of the coverage. I told Alexa to turn the TV off, then started cleaning the rollers, and the one touch up brush I had yet to clean. A quick shower to get the paint and sweat off, and I grabbed my flashlight. I also grabbed the extension pole from the painting supplies, and headed back to my room.

I dug through a box in my closet until I found my selfie stick. I mounted the stick to the extension pole with masking tape, and went up the secret staircase. Attaching my phone I set it to record video, and raised it up to point where the writing began about a foot before the peak of the conical roof.

The combination was a little unsteady, but worked. I recorded a few feet of writing, and pulled it back down to read.

‘I’m so sorry. I’ve buried it where no one will ever find it. Only the instruction manual knows where it is. The call only works between universes, so it is again safe. I’m so sorry. I’ve hidden the instruction manual, no one will ever realize what it is. I tried to destroy them both, but I don’t think there’s anything strong enough in this world. I’m so sorry, I have no God to ask forgiveness of, and no excuse for what happened. I’m so sorry.’

It took the rest of the afternoon to record the remainder of the writing, but there was very little more than rambling apologies, and promises that it would never be found. There was one section of what I think was math, symbols and values and other things. I’m guessing it’s the math that proves the multiverse.

I looked around the room. Taping off the round tower would be difficult, but without any windows I could use the electric paint gun to paint the room. The tower on the first floor was part of the old sitting room, now our den. I could probably reuse the paper we would put down on the floor before painting. I definitely planned on covering up the rambling madman confession.

I left the room, carefully searching the walls and ceiling for more pages from whatever journal they had been torn from. I found nothing more.

I headed down the back stairs into the basement. A careful search showed nothing but a disconnected and ancient coal furnace, a relatively new 80 gallon electric water heater, and gobs of spiderwebs over mostly empty shelves. Many empty glass jars remained, showing this had once been the storehouse of canned home produce. That would be useful when I had my garden in.

No sign of the Orb or an instruction manual. I even managed to get the rusted doors open to the old coal furnace, but there wasn’t even ashes left behind.

I went up the stairs just as the power flickered and went off completely. I hurried up the dark staircase, glad I had my flashlight in my hand. The uncovered kitchen windows provided enough light, and a view of a serious rainstorm. My phone rang, and I answered.

“Hi Aunt Joann ... Yes, I’m fine ... No the power is out here too ... I don’t need anything, my phone works just fine ... I’ve got plenty of food ... Worse case scenario, I eat cereal for dinner ... Thanks, love you too.”

I sent a quick text to Dad, “power out from storm, everything is fine”

There wouldn’t be a reply, he wasn’t allowed to carry his phone around at the prison. Too high of a chance that it would get stolen by an inmate. If it came back on, I’d text him again with an update.

Seeing that there was not much else to do, I climbed up the stairs to the second floor, and went down the hallway all the way to the end. The door that looked like it was for a storage cabinet at the end of the hallway, was instead the staircase to the attic.