turned back. “Well, let’s go. I want to meet this guy who has all of the answers.”
Matthew followed suit and stepped his way down the tunnel. He looked at Johnson and asked, “There aren’t any more secret doors we have to go through down here, are there?”
Johnson raised his hand and pointed. “Just keep going straight; you can’t miss it.”
Thirty minutes passed and the boys started to wonder if they had made a wrong turn. They were only going straight, so that didn’t seem likely. It was very disorienting along the tunnel. For every few steps, another light would pop up ahead of them and another light behind them would go out. It was as if the tunnel could sense their location.
Connor turned back to Johnson and April, who were walking behind the boys, and asked, “Exactly how far do we have to go down this corridor? We’ve been walking forever!”
Johnson didn’t reply, so Connor asked again. “Is anyone listening back there? How much farther do we have to go?”
Suddenly, Johnson sprinted past Connor and Matthew and moved ahead a few steps. “No farther, boys. We’re here.”
The boys came to a stop in front of a small metal door with a latch on it. Johnson told Connor to go ahead and open it, so he reached for the latch handle to raise it, but he couldn’t. Johnson sniped, “Too weak to lift a little latch, son? Here, Matthew, you try it.”
Matthew stepped up and attempted to raise the handle but couldn’t budge it a bit. Matthew glared up at Johnson. “What’s the deal with this door? Does it have a lock on it we can’t see?”
Johnson cracked a grin. “Out of the way ladies and let me give it a try.” With little to no effort, he raised the latch and the door opened for the weary group. Johnson laughed and said, “See, that wasn’t so hard; now go on in.”
April gave Johnson a glance of disbelief and said, “As if this day hasn’t been bad enough, you have to make fun of them, too.”
Matthew, Connor, April, and Johnson walked into a room the size of a school gymnasium, without the basketball court and bleachers, and began to look around. The walls were covered in drop cloths and wires. The floor was an obstacle course of paths that wound between tables of electronics and books. The room had a cold aura about it that reminded the boys of a cave they had been in at the park. A light glaze of dust covered the tables and its contents, giving the room the odor of an old library.
Nothing in the room looked familiar to the boys or to April until Connor stumbled upon a table with a square box on it. He yelled over to Matthew, “Come here and look at this thing. It looks just like the one that we saw in our book the other night. There’s the fruit symbol.”
Matthew approached the small computer and explained to April, “Yeah, this is a home computer system from back in the 1990s.” He turned to see another relic from the past. “Is that a real motorcycle?”
Connor heard Matthew utter the word “motorcycle” and was immediately pulled from the computer. “Just like from the 1950s! Can I ride it, April?”
April shook her head in a motherly, not-on-your-life kind of way, and tried to bring everyone back to the moment. “Where are we, Mr. Johnson, and when are we going to get some answers?”
From the darkened corner came a faint response to April’s question in the form of a question. “Are you sure you’re ready to accept the answers that you may get?”
The entire group turned toward the voice, and from the darkness walked a man wearing dark black pants held up with blue suspenders and an old gray T-shirt. Matthew paid particular attention to the T-shirt. He could clearly see the faded number on it that read “1984.”
Matthew uttered, “You’re the man from the park.”
The man walked closer to the group and removed an old baseball cap that covered the few lonely hairs on his head. “I was also the one in the window the other night. I saw you boys staring at
Matthew followed suit and stepped his way down the tunnel. He looked at Johnson and asked, “There aren’t any more secret doors we have to go through down here, are there?”
Johnson raised his hand and pointed. “Just keep going straight; you can’t miss it.”
Thirty minutes passed and the boys started to wonder if they had made a wrong turn. They were only going straight, so that didn’t seem likely. It was very disorienting along the tunnel. For every few steps, another light would pop up ahead of them and another light behind them would go out. It was as if the tunnel could sense their location.
Connor turned back to Johnson and April, who were walking behind the boys, and asked, “Exactly how far do we have to go down this corridor? We’ve been walking forever!”
Johnson didn’t reply, so Connor asked again. “Is anyone listening back there? How much farther do we have to go?”
Suddenly, Johnson sprinted past Connor and Matthew and moved ahead a few steps. “No farther, boys. We’re here.”
The boys came to a stop in front of a small metal door with a latch on it. Johnson told Connor to go ahead and open it, so he reached for the latch handle to raise it, but he couldn’t. Johnson sniped, “Too weak to lift a little latch, son? Here, Matthew, you try it.”
Matthew stepped up and attempted to raise the handle but couldn’t budge it a bit. Matthew glared up at Johnson. “What’s the deal with this door? Does it have a lock on it we can’t see?”
Johnson cracked a grin. “Out of the way ladies and let me give it a try.” With little to no effort, he raised the latch and the door opened for the weary group. Johnson laughed and said, “See, that wasn’t so hard; now go on in.”
April gave Johnson a glance of disbelief and said, “As if this day hasn’t been bad enough, you have to make fun of them, too.”
Matthew, Connor, April, and Johnson walked into a room the size of a school gymnasium, without the basketball court and bleachers, and began to look around. The walls were covered in drop cloths and wires. The floor was an obstacle course of paths that wound between tables of electronics and books. The room had a cold aura about it that reminded the boys of a cave they had been in at the park. A light glaze of dust covered the tables and its contents, giving the room the odor of an old library.
Nothing in the room looked familiar to the boys or to April until Connor stumbled upon a table with a square box on it. He yelled over to Matthew, “Come here and look at this thing. It looks just like the one that we saw in our book the other night. There’s the fruit symbol.”
Matthew approached the small computer and explained to April, “Yeah, this is a home computer system from back in the 1990s.” He turned to see another relic from the past. “Is that a real motorcycle?”
Connor heard Matthew utter the word “motorcycle” and was immediately pulled from the computer. “Just like from the 1950s! Can I ride it, April?”
April shook her head in a motherly, not-on-your-life kind of way, and tried to bring everyone back to the moment. “Where are we, Mr. Johnson, and when are we going to get some answers?”
From the darkened corner came a faint response to April’s question in the form of a question. “Are you sure you’re ready to accept the answers that you may get?”
The entire group turned toward the voice, and from the darkness walked a man wearing dark black pants held up with blue suspenders and an old gray T-shirt. Matthew paid particular attention to the T-shirt. He could clearly see the faded number on it that read “1984.”
Matthew uttered, “You’re the man from the park.”
The man walked closer to the group and removed an old baseball cap that covered the few lonely hairs on his head. “I was also the one in the window the other night. I saw you boys staring at
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