Book of Days_ A Novel - James L. Rubart [106]
In the middle of the room a thick gray canvas covered a rectangular shape at least ten-feet long and five-feet wide.
Cameron looked at Ann and grinned. She raised both eyebrows and returned the smile.
The Book of Days. It had to be.
"Taylor Stone is worthy of an Oscar. He almost had me convinced it was only a legend." Cameron interlocked his fingers. "Shall we?"
As they stood at either end of the canvas, ready to throw it back, Cameron said, "Whatever is under here, thanks for going on this journey with me."
"My pleasure."
"Ready? One, two, three!"
They yanked off the cover, a snow storm of dust dancing in the glow of their flashlights.
Yes!
Cameron's knees went weak as his lips curled up.
They'd found it.
Cameron stared at the book almost afraid to approach it for fear it would vanish off the rough-hewn table it sat on. The dark brown leather cover looked ancient. Cracks ran throughout the surface and the leather strap that bound the book shut was graying. At the far left end of the book, cords the color of damp straw wound through the cover and the pages.
Cameron blew out a long, slow breath. Unbelievable. A tingling sensation ran up and down his arms. His dad's and Jessie's words were true. Answers. Finally.
"We did it, Ann."
She shifted from one leg to the other. "I want to know, even at this size, how every event, past, present and future, of every life is supposed to be contained in this book."
"Maybe the words are really small." He smiled and circled the massive tome slowly. "Maybe the words appear and disappear depending on who looks at the book. I'm serious. This is God we're talking about. Have some faith." He winked at her.
A title six inches high ran across the top of the page in a language Cameron didn't know. He stared at the book wondering what to do next. Open it of course. But to where? How would he search for his memories of Jessie in a book this size? How would he read the words if they weren't in English? It didn't matter how. He would figure it out even if it took years.
"Come on," Ann said. "Let's open it."
"My thought exactly." Cameron moved to the end of the book. He reached out and touched the corner of the cover. Like his father and Jessie had done?
He closed his eyes as they lifted the cover and set it on the table. "For you, Dad; for you, Jessie."
After a moment of silence he opened his eyes and looked at the first page. What? It couldn't be. A sensation of fire started in his feet and moved up his body in surges. By the time it reached his head, he felt ready to throw up.
He swallowed, looked up at the ceiling, then back down at the paper in front of him.
It hadn't changed.
The parchment was still blank.
He turned to the next page.
Nothing.
And the next.
More pages.
More nothing.
There was no writing on any of them.
CHAPTER 38
A dry heave pushed up from Cameron's stomach and he doubled over, then lurched forward and caught himself on the table.
"No." His knees buckled and he slumped to the floor and bit his lip. "This can't be happening."
"I'm sorry." Ann put her hand on his back.
"Where are the words? Where are they!"
"I don't know."
"I believed, I did. I believed the book was real."
"Shh, I hear something."
"I needed that book to be real. There has to be something we did wrong. There has to be some way to unlock it, some prayer we need to say, some code, maybe it's like invisible ink . . ."
But he knew none of those things would make words appear on the faded pages.
"Let's close it and get out of here."
She was right. It was over, time to go. He was too numb to argue.
They closed the book and packed up their gear.
As Cameron slung his pack over his shoulder he said, "It makes no sense. Why would—?"
Ann snapped her hand up to cover his mouth. "Our blender has grown feet," she mouthed. "Listen."
The faint scuffle of shoes or boots echoed off the concrete walls of the outer room.
"Cameron!"
The voice