Stanley was true to his word. When Michael had checked his account, he saw that the payment due to him was there, along with a hefty bonus. Where a washed-up watchmaker gets money like that, Michael did not know. At first he thought it must have been a mistake. He picked up the phone and dialed Stanley's number without giving much thought to why the payment and bonus really troubled him; he had failed. Even though it had turned out good for Wind Quarry, he had not kept the complicator from being used. He knew the payment wasn't a mistake and that only made Michael feel guilty. How could he accept payment for saving the world? Let alone, a few-hundred-percent bonus when he hadn’t even succeeded.
The phone clicked and Stanley Post’s voice came on.
“It’s Michael.”
“Michael, I want to thank you.”
“Thank me for what? I failed.” There was a pause and Michael could hear Stanley’s breath. “I mean, I don’t understand, I thought I was supposed to keep the complicator from being used.”
“A good man would think so, wouldn’t he? There is a truth my father taught me that I always seem to have to relearn; evil condemns evil.” Stanley gave a breathy chuckle. “I swear, if evil could find a way to kill God, it would somehow backfire.”
“The good guys always win?”
“Sort of, but it isn’t over yet.”
Michael moved the phone to his other ear. “What do you mean?”
“We merely resisted the enemy, we’ve wounded them, but we also angered them.” Michael sucked on the inside of his cheek and thought about the city that stood down the Great River, or rather, where the Great River once flowed. The city was still there, millions of angry, dried out people with their towers of glory to man. “We may have won back our river, but keeping it will prove more difficult. They will be on the defensive, but all we have to do is be where we belong and do the right thing at the right time.”
“Destiny?”
“Things have a way of falling into their rightful place.”
“Ha! You have no idea exactly how accurate you are.”
“I’ll be keeping in touch, Mr. Bandolier.” Stanley hung up the phone leaving Michael holding the silent receiver. He tossed it back to its cradle.
The family diary Michael found at the mill was on his desk, open midway to an adventure that took place some fifty years ago. His father had apparently tracked down a priceless violin with an ancient script engraved on its neck. The book was full of such stories, and there were more books still at the old mill. He made a mental note to go back for them.
In a small way, he was disappointed that he had chosen a different life. His choice left him with no adventures of his own. Of course he had the complicator, though he wasn’t sure he could call that a success. He was sure he would never unearth a hidden treasure.
Debora came in and Michael put a finger in place to look up at her. She was dressed for work with her hair in a bun. She wore the dull gray business suit that Michael was familiar with, the same old Debora in every way. Except now, Michael could see through the outer shell, he knew her differently. The morning light from the windows released just a hint of glimmer in her eyes but it was enough for Michael to see the brilliance and thrill that he knew was in there. Her lips stretched slightly when she saw him, and he could also see the full warmth of her odd smile. It wasn't hard at all to imagine her in her leather jacket with goggles on her messy head.
“Interesting read?” she asked.
“More interesting than you could imagine. How’s the boy?”
“He is settled in,” she said, “but he is older than most of the other kids, you know.” Michael understood what she was saying; it was highly unlikely for Charlie to ever find a new home. There were so many boys just like him at the orphanage, none of them guaranteed a home or a family. The odds were against them.
“He will be cared for there,” Michael said, “Maybe they can teach him some respect and manners.” They shared a smile with that assurance.
“I have some exciting news,” Debora said changing the subject.
“Me too,” Michael said. “I am going to be heading out to the old leather mill. It’s in need of some care.”
“You're going to fix up your family’s mill?”
“I figure, since I have some extra money, I might as well. Would you like to come along? Of course, there shouldn't be any need for parachuting, but it will still be fun.”
Debora laughed with the full smile that Michael came to love. “As fun as that sounds, there is something else that might be a little more exciting, and may very likely include some parachuting.” Debora made herself comfortable on the corner of Michael’s desk. “Aerial pictures show that the Aggregate was not destroyed when the canyon flooded.” She had his attention. “City Hall wants us on the team.” She slapped the top of the desk. “We are going to recover the Aggregate.”
“Oh, um, I really shouldn’t,” Michael said, “I got a lot of things…. no time.” He glanced at his watch, then slapped at his wrist in frustration and showed Debora a bare arm.
“You might have more time than you think.”
Michael squeezed the spine of the book and it slammed shut. “Looks like I’ve gotten into my father’s line of work after all.”
AFTERWORD
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