The Mind Master Chronicles: The Pawn Sacrifice chapter 2

The Mind Master Chronicles: The Pawn Sacrifice

Chapter 2 (Mark: age 14 — The Disappearance of Katie)

I go by the name of Mark. My life had been pretty typical for a very long time — nothing extraordinary, just average. I was coming in from the fields one day. In the summers I had gotten to helping my onkel on the farm. I’d been doing it for a couple of years. By then, I was about to turn fifteen. I was, therefore, allowed to take over more of the work and receive a regular man’s wage as well. I felt it was the first time I had been treated as a man, and it gave me a lot of confidence. I would end up needing that confidence.

When I got home that evening, I was running late. I thought my mother would get on me about holding up dinner. Instead, I was met with a completely empty house. After calling out names and receiving no response, I took to feeding the dog scraps that I had scrounged up for him. Then, I waited at a chair next to the dining room table.

I grew antsy as the sun began to set. I decided to go outside and have a look around. The town square was down a hill; I could see the town square from my porch. There were plenty of people gathered there. I knew right away that something was going on. There were no festivals, no events scheduled for this time of year — not with most of the village busy harvesting. I decided to go down there and see what was going on.

I could hear voices rising in discord from among the masses as I approached. When one … then another … then another … caught sight of me, they turned and looked at me. That had never happened to me before.

“Mark!” I heard my mother’s voice calling out from behind me. “Mark!!”

I turned instinctively toward the terror in her voice.

“What is it?!” I exclaimed. “What’s wrong?”

“There’s been … there’s been …” She struggled to breathe. “Your sister … Katie … I can’t find Katie! I looked for her, but I can’t find her!!”

“I’m not sure what you’re telling me.” I responded.

“Those kidnappings … the people being brought to the cities and kept there … I think Katie must have been taken …”

“Hold on — I mean — have you really looked everywhere? You know Katie; she’s always wandering over to someone else’s house.”

“And I’ve been to every one of them!”

I was still not panicked at that point. The fact that my sister could have been taken into the city as part of the relocation program seemed highly unlikely. Then, I thought of something.

“Well, is anyone else missing?” I asked, sure that I had stumbled upon the way to calm my mother’s nerves.

Instead, my mother appeared to be frustrated that her predicament was not being understood.

“I don’t know … I don’t know. What difference does it make?!”

“Because they wouldn’t just take one girl.”

“But they get other people to go into the city by refusing to let their loved ones go.”

“But just one family?” I countered. “They’d tip off the whole village that the program has started in this town just to take one inconsequential girl?”

My mother made a face at the reference to Katie as being “inconsequential.” I immediately regretted having said that. I had merely wanted to show the unlikelihood that Katie had, in fact, been abducted. I was sure at that moment, however, that the only way my mother would be fine again would be for Katie to be produced safe and sound in front of her. Anything short of that wouldn’t be good enough.

“Listen, I’ll go look for her.” I offered.

“I already have!” my mother retorted. “If you want to help, please go the magistrate and tell him what I told you. Have them send a man to the city to find Katie. Maybe they will let her go. But even if they don’t, she’ll need some money and food … Mark!”

“All right. All right, I’ll go.” I agreed, though I was fairly certain it would prove to be a waste of time.

I would not be disappointed. Although the magistrate managed to keep his professional composure, the same couldn’t be said of some of his staff members, who I could hear laughing in the background.

“My mom is very upset.” I insisted.

“And I suppose your sister Katie … she isn’t the sort of girl who would run off …”

I stood stock-still, but I could feel my face begin to redden. The fact of it was she was exactly the sort of girl who would run off — not far and not for long — but she was flighty. I wondered if I should own up to that fact. Would it help or hurt my case in getting help to find her?

It was hard to say what the magistrate made of my reaction to his question, but he seemed to suddenly have a newfound compassion for me.

“All right. Here’s what we’ll do … we’ll form a search party and scour every nook and cranny for her.”

It was exactly the type of thing I had proposed to my mother, and that’s why I was certain that she wouldn’t go for it.

Maybe it was weakness on my part, but I found it easier to just go along with the magistrate’s plan to organize a search party for my sister rather than go home and give a status report to my mother. The truth was I didn’t really want to deal with my mother’s anguish at that point. And really, what could I do to change the magistrate’s mind about sending someone into the city to look for my sister? Nothing.

In the back of my mind, I knew that the hour was fast approaching for my father to return home from his buying expedition; he had to purchase inventory for his store. I was hoping my father could deal with my mother much better than I could. But once again, the realization struck me that the only thing that could make a real difference for my mother at that point was finding my sister.

Everyone seemed to have high hopes when the search began. The turnout had been surprisingly good, though I suspected that some of my fellow teenagers were just bored and looking for something different to do. The magistrate did a good job organizing everyone — and on such short notice as well — his secretary noted.

There was this feeling that it wouldn’t take very long — that the erstwhile girl would be found being irresponsible with her time no doubt. And then, we would all be home before darkness settled in. Only it wasn’t to be.

An eerie silence set over the once enthusiastic crowd once they realized they had looked everywhere they could think to look.

“Are you sure she doesn’t have any other friends?” the magistrate asked, turning to me.

I shook my head dismally.

“A boyfriend?” the magistrate persisted.

“She’s only eleven!” I countered.

The man turned away.

“Well, have your parents come to my office in the morning, and we’ll talk.”

“In the morning?!”

“Yes, in the morning!” the magistrate shot back.

Things had gone from bad to worse for me. Now I had to return to my mother not only empty-handed but also having wasted much time. Worse still, the magistrate seemed intent on wasting even more time.

“What about sending someone to the city?” I called after him.

The man stopped and shot a disapproving look at me.

“That theory of your mother’s is absurd.” he spat. “I’ll tell her that tomorrow!”

The man walked away. I stood there frozen. I didn’t know what to do. But home seemed like the last place I wanted to be at that moment. So, I decided — I would continue to search — every inch of ground until I found a trace of where my sister may have gone. Anything seemed better than facing my hysterical mother at that point. Still, I had no conception of what I was going to find or what an impact it would have on my life.

 “What is this?” I uttered as I came upon it.

“It” was a small pile of disturbed soil in the middle of an arc of trees. The light seemed to settle on the center of it — illuminating it.

The setup drew me like a moth to the flame. Something was there — I knew it — just as I had known early on during the search that my sister would not be found that day.

Maybe it was a waste of time, I thought. Maybe I was just trying to avoid going back home empty-handed. I could visualize my mother weeping and my father’s quiet disappointment. I sighed. I would just take one quick look at what was hidden there, and then I would go back home and face the trouble that awaited me there.

When I came to the disturbed soil, I began to move it around with my foot.

“This is a waste of time.” I concluded.

But then, I struck something. My eyebrows furrowed for a moment. Still, at that point, I wasn’t sold on the idea that this was indeed something. Then, the semi-buried object began to move with the movement of my foot — dislodging some of the dirt as it went.

“What …”

It was wooden — probably a keepsake box containing the “treasures” of a young kid who wanted to keep those items a secret. By the looks of what I could see of the box, it appeared to be feminine. Could it belong to a girl? Maybe even to my sister? If so, maybe she had even been here recently to visit it.

I finally stooped down and unearthed the container. It was a well-crafted box with carved ornamentation — little flower petals adorned the edges. They were all painted in various pastel colors. Then, dead center on the lid was a carving in the shape of a heart — not the symbol but rather the organ. This carving struck me as being rather gruesome for a girl’s keepsake box.

I opened the box. In it were not the possessions one would expect a child to hide. Instead, there was a single, pristine white scroll with brass handles on the ends — tied loosely with a golden ribbon and sealed with a golden seal.

I hesitated for a moment. Perhaps, I had misjudged the situation. There was no way this scroll could be Katie’s. What could she possibly want with a scroll? Since it didn’t belong to my sister, I began to think I had no business messing with it anymore. I considered putting it back in the box — seriously considered it. And yet, something told me not to. It may have been wrong, but I decided to read it. Maybe Katie was exchanging messages with someone, and that person knew where she was. In other words, I was desperate, and this was the only unusual thing I had found.

I was careful when I began to unfurl it. I wanted to do as little damage to it as possible, given that it wasn’t my property. But then suddenly, as I looked at the contents, I no longer cared about preserving the integrity of the parchment for its owner.

Scrawled in shaky handwriting was the following, “There is nothing quite as maddening as losing something important to you. Have you lost something important to you? Is that why you’re reading this? Unfortunately what I’ve taken, I’ve taken for good. But since I have pity for you, I’m letting you know what my intention is. Accept it. What you’ve lost will never be recovered.”

It was signed, “The Taker.”

I re-read the letter in disbelief. I shook my head. Somehow I knew this wasn’t a joke. I rolled the scroll back up — this time without the care I had shown to it before. Still, I knew the scroll was important. It was evidence, so I would preserve it all the same.

“Did you write this, boy?”

The magistrate had suddenly become hostile. I was surprised.

“No.” I responded coldly.

“I think you’re trying to convince me of your mother’s theory …” the magistrate scoffed.

“Hardly.” I responded. “This isn’t something that would be left behind if they took Katie to the city …”

I tried to take the scroll back, but the man resisted.

“I’ll keep a hold of this …” the magistrate insisted.

“Why?” I returned. “You said it was a fake.”

“Are you admitting that it is?” the man countered.

“No.” I responded.

The man sneered.

“Stubborn.” he said, flinging the parchment back at me.

“I’ll let it go this time, but I better never see it or hear of it again, hear me? Or, I’ll use it as evidence against you!”

I glared at the man, but I was quick to pick up the scroll all the same. I was just glad the man hadn’t destroyed it. Still, I knew then that the man would be no help to me or my sister. In fact, I figured the man may prove to be an obstacle. There was no way I was going to believe that the letter meant nothing. No one could have staged that letter this soon after my sister’s disappearance. No, more than likely, the letter had been left by someone involved with my sister’s abduction. And I figured she must have been abducted — it was just too cruel of a thing for my sister to be involved in willingly. And the letter was just too much of a coincidence — too odd not to have something to do with my sister’s disappearance.

But would anyone believe me — what with the magistrate undermining me and accusing me of writing the letter? But I knew of one person who would believe me: my mother. Now I had an idea of how she felt. She had been wrong about Katie having been taken to the city in order to force us to move there, but she hadn’t been wrong about something bad having happened to Katie. And at that moment, instead of dreading having to face my mother, I was suddenly filled with the overwhelming need to see her again.

My mother was sitting with my father at our dining room table. When I entered the room, my stomach dropped. My mother was weeping into my father’s chest.

“Did something happen?” I asked in an alarmed tone.

My mother’s reddened eyes shot up to mine, the eyes of her only son.

“Mark! Where have you been?!” she accused.

I slowly shut the door behind me. Nothing had changed, I concluded. Only my absence had been noticed.

“I’m sorry.” I decided to apologize. “I was delayed …”

“Katie! Have they sent for Katie?!”

I hesitated.

“Mark!”

“No.”

“But you …”

“Listen, I don’t have any pull with these people. I’m only fourteen!”

“Mark …” my father cautioned.

“Then, why were you gone so long?” my mother asked.

My father placed his hand on my mother’s hand. She looked over at him.

“Why was he gone so long? It’s already dark outside!”

My stomach churned.

“Listen … I found something …” I mumbled. “Listen!”

Both of my parents looked over at me.

“Here.”

I quickly retrieved the letter from my pocket. I would give it to them. Let them make of it what they would. I didn’t know how I had gotten this responsibility, but I didn’t want it. Someone needed to take it from me. My father was the one who stood up and approached me.

“Here.” I said again.

My father took the letter and headed back toward the table. My mother grabbed at the letter with trembling fingers.

“What is this?!” my mother demanded.

“I found it. It’s the only thing I found. No one else has seen her. I can’t be sure that it’s not related to Katie.”

“How? How could it not be?” she whimpered.

My father again took up the scroll and read it.

“What — what is this?” my father asked. “It’s not funny, Mark!”

“Wait. You don’t think that I …”

“No … no, but this just isn’t normal …”

Now my father’s hands were shaking.

“I know it’s bizarre —” I began.

My father looked up at me dismally then nodded. I could guess what he was thinking. If Katie was gone, and it was due to the individual who wrote this letter then the situation was pretty dire. It hadn’t struck me just how dire the situation was until that exact moment. This realization made me almost wish that I hadn’t brought the letter — or at least that I had presented it with more sensitivity than I had.

Suddenly, my mother broke out into a fit of fresh tears. Her body racked with grief. I stood there helplessly as my father began rubbing his wife’s back. I wished I could be anywhere else but there … but I knew it would be weakness on my part if I left just then.

“She’s gone! She’s gone!” my mother wailed. “Mark! You have to find her!”

“Yes.” I stated distractedly.

“No. Now!”

“What?”

“Mark, go get her now!”

“Charlotte.”

“Go!!”

I packed a bag and left. My father did manage to run after me and give me some money for the road. But he couldn’t manage any words. Neither of us could. The truth was our house would probably never be a home again until Katie’s whereabouts were determined.

Copyright © Jennifer Alice Chandler 2020