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The Last Seeker: Episode One

The Desk

By S.K. WilsonPublished 2 months ago 14 min read
1
Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find ...

That fateful day when I opened the locked drawer of my father’s old writing desk was the day that everything in my life changed.

The smell of the oak desk still lingered in my nostrils from time to time whenever I thought about it. Intricate carvings spanned its entire surface, except the smooth flat top. Etched into the wood was a tale of knights on a quest, ending in a battle against a six-headed beast.

Funny I thought, thinking about the carvings again, I don’t recall any tales of knights involving a hydra … they tend to be more in Greek myth.

It was my twenty-first birthday when I was given the desk, it had been left to me in my father’s will with the provision that it stayed in storage until the day I turned twenty-one. Until the day I opened the last drawer, which I had to get a locksmith to open for me, I never understood why. The moment I saw the contents of that drawer it all became clear.

That was ten years ago …

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Today I stood waiting in the coffee shop for my order. I started chewing the cap to my pen, I always got on edge in crowded places, and coffee shops were always crowded. Come on! How long does it take to pour hot water through ground up beans? I only ever ordered black filter coffee, which I thought was the simplest order possible, but apparently was just as difficult as the orders that everyone else placed.

'There you go, large filter for Kyli? Black, no sugar,' said the young barista, placing it on the counter.

It’s Ceili, but that’s what you get when you don’t correct them when you watch them write your name wrong for the millionth time. If I gave them my first name, I’d never get my coffee …

I picked up my coffee with a small, awkward smile and quickly walked out of the shop.

The street was even busier now than it was when I entered the cafe. I tried to quickly walk back over the road to get to my flat but the lights at the crossing were taking forever. Well at least it’s not raining. As I took a sip of coffee, I felt the first drops of rain on my face as the sky opened up.

'Oh come on!' I shouted out loud.

There was a yelp next to me, I hadn’t noticed anyone next to me until now. My sudden outburst seemed to startle her as much as her sudden appearance startled me. The first thing I noticed about her was the bright red top she was wearing, which looked like silk. I’d wear that if I could. Does silk breathe? I’d be -

‘So hot in that top -’ Oh my God!

Cringing as I realised I completed my thought out loud. My face bright red from embarrassment, I turned and stared at the little red man displayed on the crossing light, willing him to swap to the green walking man, Right now.

The crossing lights changed over, I moved with as much speed as I could across the road, putting as much distance between myself and the woman as I could as I got to the other side. Quickly side stepping into the alcove porch that covered the doorway to my building.

'It’s quite cool, breathes well actually, but thank you,' said a soft, lyrical voice behind me.

Oh God! This was unbelievable, I couldn’t believe this woman just couldn’t let me make a fool out of myself and leave it be. She had to chase me up and rub it in my face. This is going to be horrible! I’m awkward enough around other people, double that in front of a pretty lady …

Turning to face the music I looked at her fully for the first time. Not only was she incredibly beautiful, with vibrant red hair and eyes a deep green that forced all coherent thought from my mind. Amazing, simply wonderful.

'I’m sorry, it just slipped out. I didn’t mean it.'

'So, I’m not hot in this top?'

Was she toying with me or flirting? I can never tell.

'No. That’s not what I meant… uh, I just thought you would be hot in it - I mean like temperature, not that I think you’re - I mean, you are - I mean …'

She smiled warmly at me.

'It’s okay. Thanks for the compliment, I think … Do you live here?'

'What? Yes… why?'

'I’m Sara Boyle, I’m the journalist the person living here arranged to meet. If you live here too could you let me in? I really want to get out of the rain please,' she said, stepping even closer into the archway.

'Yeah, sure. I’m the one who called you.'

Just my luck, I thought as I started unlocking the first time I chose to try and tell my story and the journalist that comes to take the story is an attractive woman, who I’ve already made an idiot of myself in front of, Kill me now!

I heard the tyre screech before I saw the car, it was hurtling towards us at tremendous speed. Dropping my coffee, I quickly grabbed Sara and dove in through the unlocked door right as the runaway car smashed into the archway of my flat’s entrance sending brickwork, dust and glass flying everywhere. We were covered with debris as we got up, I helped Sara get up and move away from the wreckage.

A few hours later, after the police and emergency took the driver to hospital, and crews finished removing the car. Both Sara and myself were given the all clear and the building entrance was structurally sound enough to use.

'So ... did you still want to come on up ... the place is a bit of a mess.'

She nodded with a smile.

I blushed again with embarrassment that this woman would witness my unit in the state it's in. I forgot I'd arranged this today so cleaning slipped my mind. It's been on other things lately ... things from the past resurfacing ... We went in and up to my flat, I led Sara to my living room. There was an awkward silence in the air as I made us both cups of really strong tea and handed her one. She took a sip then got out a recorder, a pad and pen.

'Start whenever you want,' she said, turning on the recorder.

'My name is Flux Ceili Seeker… and I think things into happening …’

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Inside the drawer there were simply a few scraps of paper and a few photos. I recognised myself in some of the photos, they must have been taken at our old home as I did not recognise the house or yard in the photos. There were photos of people I didn’t know but I was also in the photos with my parents. The scraps of paper were also a mystery, none of them seemed to be a part of the same document. I spread them over the surface of the desk and looked at them. I tried arranging them to form a coherent phrase or sentence but nothing could be done with them. Putting the scraps of paper and the photos in my pocket, I shut the drawer. The clunk of something rolling back and hitting the front of the drawer caught my attention. I opened it up again and saw nothing but the empty space made of wood. Opening and shutting the drawer a few more times I heard the same rolling and then a clunk.

A secret compartment? My head spun with the idea, why would dad have had a secret compartment in his desk? The only time I’d seen things like this was in films and spy novels. Searching around the edges of the drawer's bottom I felt a slight groove in the back of it. Lifting on the groove, there was a soft click and I was able to slide the false bottom enough to see what was rolling around in the drawer.

I don’t believe it…

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'So,' chimed the reporter, Sara. Now sitting in my living room drinking tea and asking all about my past.

'When did these coincidences begin happening to you?'

'I guess… I guess it was about ten years ago, just after my 21st birthday.'

Thoughts tumbled around my head like trainers in a washing machine.

This was a bad idea. Why would anyone believe me? I’m a recluse, who lives alone. The only social interaction I have on a weekly basis is with the staff at the coffee shop across the road. Or the delivery people who come a couple of times a week. There was Lucy from the local Chinese place. Joe from the Thai. Luke did my weekly grocery delivery. I never rang to order from anywhere, only ever ordering online. It’s one of my main criteria for trying a new place out, can you order delivery online?

So why did you invite this reporter into your house Flux?

There was no way out of it now, she was in the flat, drinking tea. She was settled and I think after the incident with the car she wasn’t going anywhere in a hurry.

'So how exactly does it work? Is it like wishing or more something like mind control or telekinesis?'

'Teleke-what? No, nothing like that, and it’s certainly not like a wish. I don’t really understand it, I don’t even know if it’s real. Maybe it’s all just a series of coincidences and blind luck- or bad luck mostly.' I answered, hopping out of my chair in a fit of excitement.

I tried to stress that I had no control on it… if it was real.

'OK, so can you try and do something now?' asked Sara.

'I’ve tried, I can never make it work and it never happens when I actively want something to happen. Just, you know, random ideas, thoughts that bubble up without thinking about them- like earlier! With the rain, and the crossing light! I was just thinking something about them and then they happened.'

'But,' she replied, looking somewhat sceptical.

'They forecast rain for today… and the light had to change at some point, right? What would you normally be thinking about when waiting for lights to change?'

Pad Thai. 'Um…'

'You’d be thinking about the lights changing,' she said.

DING DONG

I jumped with fright, I wasn’t expecting anyone. I looked at her and she just smiled and continued with her notes. Heading cautiously to the door, I picked up my cricket bat from the basket next to the door before looking through the peephole. It was Joe, the delivery guy for the Thai place. I don’t remember ordering any Thai… Thai is for Wednesday’s, today was Monday, which is MCN.

'Hello, Joe?' I said opening the door, 'I didn’t order anything did I? I don’t remember doing that.'

'I did,' said Sara as she walked over, taking money out of her wallet, 'I thought we could do with some lunch and saw the menu on your fridge. You like Pad Thai?'

'Yeah, it’s my favourite ...'

'Good,' she paid Joe, then walked over to the kitchen to get bowls and cutlery, which she instinctively found where everything lived.

'Well that clears that up,' said Joe, 'I was wondering what was happening, Wednesday night is your Thai night, right? Monday is MCN! Guess I'll see you again on Wednesday, Seek!'

Waving to Joe as I shut the door I couldn't help but chuckle as I returned to my armchair. Joe could never master my name, so started calling me 'Seek' a while back.

I sat back down and nervously ruffled my hair and cracked my knuckles. Would she believe this one? Sara finished putting food into bowls and walked over.

'Do you really have Thai every Wednesday?'

‘Uh, yeah … I like routine.’

‘Fair enough, but what’s MCN?' she asked as she handed me the bowl.

Aww crap, this will sound so ridiculous to her…

'MCN is … is Mystery Can Night.'

She stared blankly at me, clearly waiting for more information.

‘It involves taking a bunch of tinned foods from my weekly delivery, taking the labels off, mixing them all up and then choosing one and having to eat whatever lies within. It’s fun at times, last week it was a beef stock pot… that sounds sad doesn’t it?'

'Um, not sad, maybe a little odd … to some people I imagine. I think it could be fun, as long as you know you like all the things in the mystery pile,' she said, smiling.

'Yeah, that’s sort of the point. Saves having to decide what to eat, that’s why I have a set night for everything, it takes the decision making out of it.'

We sat quietly for a few minutes eating our lunch, I put the radio on softly for some background noise. It was playing ‘Mr Bojangles’. That's the Sammy Davis Jr version I think. After a few more minutes I decided to risk telling her.

'I think the Thai food was another of them.'

She stared at me for a moment, put her bowl down and had a sip of water.

'The Thai food? But I ordered it, it was coming no matter what. When did you think about it?'

'When you were talking about the lights changing, you said “what would you be thinking about waiting for lights to change?” I don’t know why but at that moment I thought of Pad Thai. Even though I didn’t think of it when I made a fool of myself with you at the lights.

Sara giggled at the awkwardness of the traffic lights, I continued my explanation.

'There’s no way I could have known you were going to order Thai for lunch, especially that you would order me a Pad Thai. I never saw you order it, I’m assuming you did it online? You didn’t make any phone calls.'

'Okay, okay,' she put her hands up in defeat.

'But even if it was, how would we prove it? There must be some way to control the possible events and outcomes of the environment. Then see if your subconscious thoughts have any influence on them.'

I’ve got an idea if the rain would just stop.

'I’ve got an idea but we’ll have to wait-'

The heavy patter of rain outside started to ease and within a minute stopped completely. Sara looked at me with a quizzical face, looking toward the window, I shrugged.

'As I was thinking it - never mind. Now that it’s stopped raining I think I have an idea. But we’ll need some supplies…'

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I don’t quite know how long I stood over the open drawer of the desk, just staring at the object until I finally reached down and picked it up. It felt warm, almost … alive.

'You want to put that down girly, and leave. Trust me, it’s for the best.’

I jumped from the shock, turning I saw a strange man entering the room. His head was shaved bald and tightly wrapped over his pink face was a strap of leather leading to a patch that covered his right eye. He wore a crisp suit of purple fabric, and his shining black shoes matched the thin tie wrapped around his neck.

'Who are you?' I said in retaliation, wrapping the object up in some cloth that was in another drawer.

‘You can call me Mr Hyde.’

He lifted his hand to show what I thought was a knife, but in the light it looked more curved.

'Is that… is that a spoon? You’re threatening me with a spoon?'

He twisted it around in his fingers, showing the other end was in fact a sharp knife.

'I found it in your kitchen… I think it’s for kiwi fruit, you know one end to cut it and then the other to scoop out. I dunno, not really a fan of kiwi fruit.'

He looked at me and smirked. A dark menace washed over his one eye.

'But you know… it can still slit your throat.'

To Be Continued ...

HumorYoung AdultthrillerShort StorySeriesPsychologicalMysteryLove
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About the Creator

S.K. Wilson

She/Her | Australian 🏳️‍⚧️ Author

My short form writing mostly falls into the absurd, strange and nonsensical. I enjoy writing micro-fiction collections, been dabbling in poetry.

Debut Arthurian fantasy novel out now! The Knights of Avalon

🩷

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