Mystery of the Black Books

The room was dark and the dim light escaping a closed bathroom door clarified that Artis Rose Luckey was awake. The water was running in the shower. The room smelled like pineapples and coconut as she washed her hair. The smell reminded her of the California vacation she had taken a few years ago. She had stayed at a hotel and the shampoo and conditioner provided by the hotel smelled like tropical fruit. The fragrance was a pleasant change from the city where the smell of car exhaust, outside food vendors, and urine in subways was common.

Today Artis had to catch a plane for another trip, but this trip was not a vacation. She rinsed her long red hair, turned off the water, and pulled open the shower curtain. She grabbed her pink terry cloth hair turban from a hook and wrapped up her wet hair. She carefully stepped over the tub and out of the shower as she grabbed her favorite bath towel. Artis dried herself and began to prepare herself mentally for what was to come. She had to be on time to catch her flight. She had to stay focused on the agenda and not on her feelings this time.

In another city halfway across the country Daniella Miami Luckey was eating breakfast and reading the news on her holographic projection device (HPD). She had recently returned from a spinning class at the gym and now coveted her alone time to eat breakfast and read. She looked at the time and reminded herself, “I have a few hours before I have to be at the airport!” Daniella alerted her clock assistant to set her alarm to go off in two hours, to keep her punctual for her plane flight.

Daniella again browsed the news headings. One news article perked her curiosity. It read: “WHAT IS A SCROLL AND WHY ARE GIGANTIC PAINTED SCROLLS APPEARING ALL OVER THE USA?” Daniella remembered how in her twenties monoliths were appearing in various places around the world (an artist hoax) and now enormous painted scrolls were emerging all over the United States. The scrolls were painted with colorful and mysterious images prophesying the future. They were found erected atop barren hills, hanging from overpasses, and on the sides of barns. The paintings were prophetic warnings and each of them had so far come true. One scroll showed the waters in the world poisoned by a massive star. Many skulls representing death were falling out of the star. The star was made of wood with a worm coming out of it and the painting was colorful. The leadership of the world governance had offered a reward of $30,000 for the artist to come forward or for anyone to alert them to who the artist was.

Daniella thought about her mom and emotion welled up in her eyes because her mom was an artist, too. She thought back to her childhood and the enigmatic artwork that covered the walls of her mother’s art studio. She remembered how her mom always carried black Moleskine journals everywhere she went to record thoughts, sketch, write poetry, and note pertinent information like people’s names and phone numbers. Daniella looked at the time. It was time to shower, get dressed, and leave for the airport.

The AI boarding agent routinely and matter-of-factly called out, “Flight 601 is now boarding.” Artis stood up from her seat, grabbed her purse and small bag. She made her way to the ticket/security scanner and waved her hand over the eye. She boarded the plane and looked for her window seat over the wing.

Artis landed at 1:35 p.m. Her flight was uneventful and she was impatient waiting to get off of the airplane. While she waited to exit she voice texted an auto taxi to pick her up and take her to the house. She also voice texted Daniella.

Daniella downshifted her Ford Mustang rental and descended the spiraling mountain road. She had made a good choice to rent a car. The beauty of this rental car was that although it was an autonomous vehicle, it still had an option to drive it manually like the muscle cars of the past. It cost more to rent the car but this was not an issue for Daniella. She was a doctor and biologist. She could easily splurge for the ride and it was a pleasurable diversion from what was to come.

7 Soap Scent Mountain Road was a 10 minute drive according to Daniella’s global positioning system (GPS). She took a deep breath and began to cry softly. It had been a year since she had driven on these roads. She wanted to visit often but her schedule was busy. The drive was always beautiful no matter what time of year. Daniella liked autumn the best. The splash of colors painting trees in gold, red, and yellow were magical. Today was a sunny and humid late summer day. In a month autumn would start here in the mountains.

Daniella saw the road sign for Soap Scent Mountain road and turned carefully onto the gravel road. In five minutes she pulled into the driveway of the destination. Daniella put the car into park and sat there in the car staring at the house. It was the house of her mother, Angela Constance Luckey. Unlike in the past, when her mom would come running out to the car to meet her, silence met Daniella today. She received the voice text from Artis asking where she was and replied to her sister that she had arrived at Mom’s house.

Daniella opened her car door and stepped out of the car. She stood there observing the two-story tiny houses with the adjoining tiny house art studio her mom had built from three used shipping containers. Her mom had bought 14 acres of wooded mountain property with a creek and built a working homestead. Her mom was old but it didn’t stop her from raising chickens and maintaining large vegetable and flower gardens. Daniella, put the key in the lock on the front door with a jiggle and turn, opened the door, and stepped inside.

The winding roads were not a favorite of Artis. No matter how she prepared for the motion sickness, she got car sick. She checked the time. “Whew, five minutes and I will arrive at mom’s house,” Artis thought. She wasn’t looking forward to this. She did not like how her mom lived isolated. Artis liked cities with action and excitement. She did not like funerals either. She had experienced the death of a best friend and now the death of her mother. “Why would a loving God do this to her? I guess Mom is now with God like she wanted?” Artis silently mocked.

The auto taxi slowed down and began the ascent on the gravel road to Artis’s mom’s house. Artis looked to her right and a deer went bounding into the woods. I would never want to live out here thought Artis. The auto taxi stopped in the driveway. Artis gathered her purse and bags and the auto taxis departed. She stood in front of the house and stared at the structures her mom had carefully designed. The walkway up to the front door was carefully arranged with glass and tile mosaic stepping stones her mother had made. Small white flowers lined the path.

Daniella came running outside and hugged Artis. Artis recoiled but tried not to show her distrust of affection from people. She smiled weakly and Daniella broke down into tears. Artis, too, became tearful but restrained herself from crying. Daniella took Artis’s hand and led her into the house. They both took a seat on the red velvet couch in the living room. A carved eagle coffee table sat in front of them with Daniella’s half finished hot green tea sitting on its glass top. “Would you like a cup of coffee Artis?” Asked Daniella? “Yes, I would like that,” replied Artis.

The two sisters sat and discussed their flights, exchanged small talk about their lives, discussed the funeral, and decided to take a walk to their mom’s art studio. Their mother had started painting daily after both girls had left home. Angela Luckey's home reflected her eclectic style and keen sense of what future fashion and vogue furnishings would look like. Magazine writers described Angela as flamboyant and zesty. Angela’s art was psychedelic and incredibly colorful with the most extreme colors balancing like dancing flames in a fire that could hypnotize the person staring at it.

Dinner was completed. The sisters headed out to the art studio. The exterior of the studio was painted in bright colors. The theme was the four seasons.

Artis opened the studio door and stepped in. It was dark and she searched for the light. Daniella voice commanded the lights to come on and there was light. “Wow, Mom actually used voice commands?” chuckled Artis. “Don’t be mean Artis. Mom was dope.” Daniella and Artis scanned the studio. The studio was organized by art mediums. The room was an 8-1/2’ x 40’ shipping container with five windows cut out on one side. On the other side were two book shelves filled with art books. Artis walked over to the bookshelf filled with at least 70 sketchbooks, mostly with black hard covers. Artis pulled out and opened a sketchbook. It was a Moleskine journal and it was dated, Winter 2033, The 5 Months of Weeping. Angela had always dated her journals and each had a theme.

Daniella walked over to the bookshelf and pulled out a journal. This one was decorated on the outside with a colorful mosaic. It read in a silver paint marker: Spring 2023, Why Transhuman? The sisters sat down in director’s chairs that surrounded a round table. Daniella looked around the studio. On the far side of the room in the rear of the building was a huge covered painting. “Artis, look at that.” Daniella pointed towards the covered work. “It is huge. I wonder what Mom was painting?” Artis didn’t look up because her eyes were captivated by page after page of magnificent and recognizable illustrations. “No way, Lit, OMG, no, it cannot be!” Artis turned to Daniella but she had already headed towards the grand work of art covered up in the back of the studio. Daniella pulled off the huge cover and there hung a humungous painted scroll! “What?” The sisters looked at each other. “No way?”

A great key had been painted hanging down the center of the scroll. It was a dark painting showing humans in agony but the earth and animals were unharmed. Mom was the rogue and secret artist of the paintings? There was a reward of $30,000 to find her. Artis was holding the Moleskine journal and showed Daniella the sketches of some of the scrolls their mom had designed that the world would recognize. This studio held the proof to give the world the name of the artist the world had sought but had not found. The numerous Moleskine journals and sketchbooks chronicled the creative process that fueled the design of each scroll. What would their mom have wanted them to do?

Daniella and Artis had awakened around 8 a.m. It was the day of their mother’s funeral. They stopped at a coffee shop next to the funeral home and ordered tea and coffee. An AI info panel in the shop was televising the news. The AI newscaster excitedly informed the world saying, “Another scroll has been found in a little town in the midwest. It is an image of a grand key dangling amongst dying humans. What is this prediction? If you have any information regarding the artist, please voice contact: government cares…I know the artist.” The sisters glanced at each other, nodded, and smiled. This was what mom would have wanted.