Hidden Under Your Nose

Mark passed his index along the spines of the books in his bookcase. “Aha!” he said with satisfaction. “Here it is.” He pulled out an old green book titled Hidden under Your Nose. He gave it to me along with a free smile. “Just don’t tell my grandfather I lent it to you or he’ll definitely have a heart attack.”

Mark had a peculiar sense of humor. His grandfather was still in the hospital room, recovering from a heart attack. Moreover, I had never met his grandfather. “Thanks,” I said.

“Do you want something to drink?” I was relieved he had asked. It was the middle of summer and Mark’s air conditioning had been broken for the past three years. I nodded silently. Mark slipped out of the living room and went into the kitchen.

I opened the book and discovered that it was not a book at all. It was filled with written words, but they were not typed. They were handwritten. This was a diary. Immediately, I felt out of place. I was invading someone’s privacy. A shattering sound came from the kitchen. “I’m alright!” came Mark’s voice from the kitchen. “I just broke a glass, again.”

The sound had startled me and made me drop the diary. it fell on the floor with its pages divided in half. The covers were spread like the wings of a dead bird that crashed on the ground. I picked up the diary. A yellow envelope slipped out from within the pages. I picked it up. It was addressed to: “Whomever Finds Me”

I tore the envelope quickly and extracted a folded paper and a smaller sheet. I unfolded the paper. It was a drawing, more like a tangle of lines. I could not tell what it was. The other piece was titled “In Order to Find The Things Hidden Under Your Nose.” Al list of strange names and places followed as well as some gibberish that seemed to be written in a foreign language and looked as thought it were impossible to pronounce.

“Hey!” yelled Mark. I quickly stuffed the papers inside the envelope and the envelope inside the diary. ” forgot to ask you what you wanted to drink.”

“Water’s fine.” I was relieved. I still felt out of place reading the private writings of Mark’s grandfather. But the envelope was addressed to me, since I had found it. But had I found it first? The envelope was not open… I heard the sound of the kitchen door open. I had to make a decision quickly.

“Hey I ran out of water, so I got you orange juice. I hope that’s all right,” Mark said as he handed me a cold glass of the juice.

“That’s fine,” I said.

Mark sat down and gulped down his orange juice. “Are you going to drink that? Because if you aren’t, I’ll take it. It’s the last of my orange juice supply.”

I handed the glass to Mark. I wasn’t so thirsty anymore. “You won’t believe what I found.”

Mark raised his eyebrows in a quizzical look. I handed him the envelope. He looked at its contents and smiled. And so, an adventure began.

~~~~~~

Written as a response to today’s prompt in Everyday Tells A Story. Currently, an idea for NaNoWriMo ‘08.

It Led to the Ocean

Walking down the bike trail, I hear steps ringing behind mine. I turn around but see no one. The trail is made of asphalt, it runs like a curved snke through a patch of yellow woods that surround a small creek. Today, the trees have undergone a transforamtion. It rained about three daysa go, the trees were finally awaken into the atmosphere of spring.

I am walikng down the trail because there is nothing better to do. I can either stay inside the house or go out. I wish I had my bike. I wish I could ride it. Someone once told me that if you follow the trail into the sunset, it leads to the ocean. I’ve always wanted to try that, but no one wants to come with me.

Again, I hear the faint sound of steps. I look back quickly, but the only thing to see are tress and a running squirrel. I continue to make my way on the trail. The sky is cloudless today, I have never seen it so blue. I drop my eyes to the ground underneath my feet. There is a small rock. I almost stepped on it.

The rock is round. There are small squiggly symbols on it. I pick it up and hold it between my index and my thunb. It’s so small.

“Give it to me” a voice says behind me. Startled, I lutch the small rock and draw it towards my body. I turn around and see an old haggy man. His dirty face looks familiar. He repeats his command. I look at his hands, He is clutching something shiny. I can’t see what it is because it is concealed in the folds of his grey coat. I assume it’s a knife. His face shows no fear of using it.

I turn away from him and face the trees. Through the tangle of branches and leaves, the stream can be seen. It leads to teh ocean. I trowh the rock. It lands softly with a splash. The man runs towards the stream and at the same time he curses at me. Then, he falls. A splash of water. Birds leave their trees hurriedly and fly into the sky.I forgot to mention the stream is on the bottom of a cliff.

I remember his face now. He was on the news, they were asking for help to catch him. He was a murderer.

I turn towards the trail. It’s getting late now. I better get back home. I turn around facing the way i had come and start to walk.