The Magi
The Mystery of the Photo Album

For the first time in three weeks, Elijah had a moment to clear his head. Uncle Stan had been gone for long hours the past few days, and his absence gave Elijah a lot of time alone. Instead of sitting around, reliving the horrific memory of his family’s murders, Elijah decided to find things to do.

His first thought was to read the old, giant book he found with his parents’ things. He remembered placing it on his bedroom floor, but it wasn’t there anymore. Uncle Stan must have moved it. For the time being, Elijah decided to investigate some of the words and names he remembered from the book. He first tried a local library down the street.

“Can you spell that name for me, sweetie?” asked the librarian, a short woman with long, gray hair and glasses much too big for her face.

“M-a-l-i-p-h-i-s-t,” Elijah said, reading from a scrap of paper he had scribbled on.

The librarian squinted over her glasses at the computer screen. “Sorry, hon. I’m not seeing anything by that name here.”

“What about Tibirus?” asked Elijah. She typed in the name.

“Here’s something.” Elijah perked up. “We don’t have it here, but the other library across town has a book with an entry on Tibirus. It’s called Historical Myths and Analysis by J. J. McClintock. Would you like me to call and have it reserved for you?”

“Yes!” Elijah said enthusiastically. “Thank you so much!”

Elijah had no idea why he was so excited because he didn’t have a clue what he was searching for. But lately, instead of getting answers, he felt like he was getting more and more questions. Maybe this small success, a simple entry in a book, could help him start to make sense of things.

By foot he wouldn’t be able to make it across town today, but if he got up early the next morning, he could make it there and back before dark. It would be a long day of walking, but the journey would provide time alone to think. He always found it peaceful to walk and think in solitude.

By late afternoon, Uncle Stan still wasn’t home. Elijah decided to kill time by exploring the only area of his uncle’s house he hadn’t yet explored: the basement. He wasn’t afraid of it, but he never considered the basement a very inviting place. There was a presence down there that always made his spine shudder, like being alone in a subway station or a large warehouse. Elijah stood at the top of the stairs and looked into the darkness below. His curiosity ultimately trumped his fear, and he slowly descended. As the old, rickety stairs groaned and creaked with each step, Elijah knew he didn’t want to spend any more time down here than necessary.

The room was pitch black. In the middle of the ceiling hung a single light bulb with a string attached. He pulled the string and watched the light flicker a few times before turning on. Elijah shivered. Willing himself to stay, he scanned the area. It was a mess! Uncle Stan had lots of greasy old car parts and tools lying around. An old, dirty engine and engine parts were piled in the corner. Spread over the floor, and packed in boxes, were hundreds of old newspapers in no particular order.

Elijah walked to the corner of the room where he saw a rusty bookshelf stacked with old books and photo albums. The books looked like twenty or thirty-year-old adventure and mystery novels. Elijah wondered if they belonged to his uncle when he was a kid.

He continued to survey the bookcase when he noticed a peculiar-looking photo album. The cover, made of black leather, was more tattered and abused-looking than the rest. Elijah excitedly wondered if it held pictures from his father’s childhood. He had never seen pictures of his parents as children. His father and Uncle Stan were orphaned at a young age, and his mother lost contact with her parents. Since he never knew any grandparents, old family pictures were unheard of. Elijah grabbed the album and flew up the stairs. As soon as he reached the top, the telephone rang. It was Uncle Stan.

“Hey Sport! You stayin’ outta trouble?”

“Yeah. I just got back from the library.”

“Good man!” Uncle Stan sounded tired even in his cheerful tone. “But be careful. I promised your parents I’d take care of you, so don’t go doing things I wouldn’t do.”

“What does that leave?” Elijah joked.

Uncle Stan chuckled. “Not much. Hey—I just wanted to call and let you know I won’t be home tonight.”

“Really? Why not?” Elijah tried to hide his disappointment.

“Just need to. No worries okay?”

“Sure,” Elijah said, unconvinced.

“Okay. You’ll need to take care of dinner yourself. When you get off the phone, head into my room. Open the second drawer and dig. It’s my underwear drawer, so try not to freak out on me.”

“And why exactly are you having me go through your underwear drawer?”

“You’ll find something.”

“I’m sure of that.”

“Don’t get smart now,” said Uncle Stan. Elijah snickered. “In the drawer you’ll find a big hairbrush—looks like a ladies’ brush, but the back comes off. Open the back and you’ll find a bunch of money. Use it to order a pizza or something.”

“Oh.” Elijah laughed.

“Alrighty. Now you stay put until I come home, okay?”

Elijah frowned. He still wanted to go to the library in the morning, but he didn’t want Uncle Stan to worry. So instead, he just said, “See ya when you get back,” and hung up the phone.

Sure enough, a very large hairbrush was hidden in his uncle’s underwear drawer. He pulled the back and out popped a roll of money. There had to be close to three or four hundred dollars there! He took out enough to pay for his pizza, stuffed the rest back into the brush, and returned it to the drawer.

After ordering pizza, Elijah sprawled out on the floor to look through the photo album from the basement. The first two pages each had an old black and white picture of a baby. They looked too old to be either of his parents. Elijah was disgusted at himself for never questioning his roots. His parents were always open to talk with him about anything, but he had never asked. He had so many questions now. Where did his family come from? What were his grandparents like? He knew his dad and uncle were orphaned at a young age, but Elijah never bothered to ask what that was like. He shook his head. It was time to make up for missed opportunities. As soon as Uncle Stan came home, Elijah planned to drill him with questions.

The rest of the album was littered with old photographs of two people—one boy and one girl. None of the photos had labels, but as the pages turned, the album outlined a journey through life of the boy and girl. They were a handsome couple. The boy looked strong and confident. The girl, also confident, was very pretty. She reminded Elijah of Kyria with her dark hair and pleasant smile. He couldn’t help thinking he had seen these people before. But who were they?

He was about to look through the album again when something suddenly caught his eye. He couldn’t believe he even noticed it! There, in the hand of the young lady, was an item Elijah recognized. He had to squint to make it out, but without a doubt, she was holding the glass cube of dirt he had inherited. The same cube he put in storage.

Elijah scampered up to find another book in the basement just as the doorbell rang. He opened the door expecting to see someone delivering his pizza, but instead he jolted back in surprise. Elijah felt his neck tingle again as he looked up at an ominous Detective Scott.

“May I come in?” the detective asked in a low, menacing voice. Elijah turned around and looked behind him, knowing full well he was alone.

“I’m headed out to meet with some friends soon,” Elijah lied in desperation.

“I won’t be long,” said Detective Scott, pushing past Elijah. “Where’s your uncle?”

“He just went to get us some dinner,” Elijah lied again. “Can I help you?” Elijah tried to calm himself down as he felt an increasing sense of danger.

Detective Scott peered around the room, never really acknowledging Elijah’s presence. “You don’t mind if I look around do you?” he said, already moving. Elijah panicked. What was a homicide detective doing so far from his area, and why was he investigating something other than a murder scene?

“I really have to get going,” Elijah responded, trying to sound impatient.

“It’ll just take a minute,” said Detective Scott. He walked toward Elijah’s bedroom. Elijah followed him, becoming more and more uncomfortable. Something was not right about this.

As Detective Scott inspected his bedroom, Elijah wondered what he was looking for. There was nothing here. He stepped inside.

“I’m going to make a phone call,” he stated. “I’m sure someone will want to know you’re here.” Elijah hoped his trembling voice wasn’t obvious. Detective Scott stood up slowly and put his hands in his pockets. They stood studying each other for a long time. Elijah may have been frightened of the detective, but he stood his ground. He was determined not to show fear. Eventually, Detective Scott relaxed and walked out of the room.

“No need. I’ll let myself out. Take care, Elijah.”

Elijah glared at him as he walked out the door. He didn’t shut it until he saw Detective Scott get into his car and turn the corner. Uncle Stan could not get back fast enough.

Detective Scott’s visit continued to haunt Elijah well into the night. Why did he show up unannounced? Why was he here? What was in his room the detective needed to see? Nothing made sense. Surely he was looking for something.

Elijah’s stomach suddenly dropped when he remembered his family’s treasures in the shoebox under his bed. Did the detective take them? He dove under the bed and pulled out the box. He lifted the lid and sighed. They were still there—two diaries (which he included after his trip to the house), a locket, and a pocket watch. A great wave of relief hit him as he sat frozen by his bed. At least they were safe. But that still didn’t explain anything.

Elijah locked the door and wedged a chair under the knob for good measure. Then he crawled in bed and hid under the covers. He hated being alone now.

It was well after two o’clock before he fell asleep.

Elijah woke up early the next morning. The daylight helped settle his nerves some. He found it easier to forget about Detective Scott with something promising on the horizon, like today’s trip to the library. The thought of finding a connection to his past made Elijah shake with anticipation. He almost tripped running down the front steps.

Autumn had definitely arrived, bringing with it a cold, crisp wind. The leaves on the trees were turning yellow and red. The ones on the ground were wet from the moisture of the morning.

Elijah passed other children on their way to school. He wondered when Uncle Stan would bring up the subject of education. It wouldn’t be long before he would have to face a new school, but since his uncle hadn’t yet mentioned it, Elijah left that subject alone.

The library across town was a huge building with tall pillars in front of the entrance. It had a high ceiling and echoed like an old church when he walked up to the front desk. All the clerks were busy checking books and stamping due dates. Elijah had to clear his throat twice to get someone’s attention.

“Hi. My name is Elijah and I believe you’re holding a book for me.”

The clerk, a young man, turned around and began shuffling through the reserved books. “Okay, do you remember the title?”

“Um, something about myths and history.” Elijah knew he sounded stupid, but he had forgotten to write down the title.

“Hm.” The librarian continued sifting. “Ah, is it Historical Myths and Analysis?” He picked up a book with “Elijah” written on a piece of paper rubber banded to it. Elijah took the book and flipped to the back to find the index of names. It took him just a second to find “Tibirus”.

“Yes. This is it. Thank you.” Elijah sat down at a table.

The entry on Tibirus was very short. He began to read:

TIBIRUS

“(MYTH) - Tibirus was widely considered the leader of the separation movement that began in 1135 A.D. The Magi, a mystical group of people, separated themselves from the common public in order to avoid being killed. Many believed the Magi were possessed by evil spirits, and there was a call to cleanse the Magi from their towns and villages. Tibirus began to call for separation and the Magi went into hiding.

(ANALYSIS) – Most scholars agree the Magi are just legend, but that there may have been a real person named Tibirus, who lived in the 12th century. There are few, if any, records of his existence. Whether he led an exodus out of his village is unknown. While the Magi may be legend, more than one source has mentioned them and their connection with evil spirits. There has been no mention of the Magi since the 13th century.”

Elijah closed the book feeling like he learned more about the Magi than Tibirus. Still, nothing made sense. Who were the Magi? Why did people think they were possessed with evil spirits? If Tibirus tried to save them, he was obviously unsuccessful since Elijah had never heard of the Magi.

He asked the librarian to look up other books on the Magi, but everything else he saw had to do with the Christmas story. He reached a dead end. He needed to get his hands on the giant book. That was certain to have more information.

Elijah returned to his uncle’s house close to sunset and opened the front door. The phone was ringing as he walked in.

“Hello?”

“WHERE THE HECK HAVE YOU BEEN?” Uncle Stan shouted.

“I went to the library across town. They had this book—”

“Nevermind that,” said Uncle Stan. “So you’re okay? I’ve been calling all day!”

“Yes, I’m okay,” Elijah said. He felt horrible.

“Good.” Uncle Stan seemed to immediately calm down and turned into his usual casual self. “Well, I hate to tell you, but I’m going to be gone again tonight. I just wanted to check up on you and see if anything exciting happened while I was gone—besides you goin’ missing for a whole day.” Elijah was relieved to hear Uncle Stan joke again.

“Detective Scott stopped by yesterday. That was weird.” There was a long, uncomfortable pause. “Hello?”

“I’m here,” said Uncle Stan in a tone that made Elijah worried. “What did he want?”

“He wouldn’t tell me. He just looked around. He went into my room and—”

“Elijah,” Uncle Stan interrupted, “I want you to leave the house. Meet me at Liberty Park. It’s about a mile north of the house. You need to leave now. Can you do that?”

“Yes,” said Elijah, feeling his pulse increase. “Why?”

“I don’t have time over the phone,” said Uncle Stan impatiently. “I really wish I could, but you’re going to have to wait until I can meet you.” Sᴇaʀ*ᴄh the (F)indNƟvᴇl.ɴet website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

“Am I in danger here?”

“I honestly don’t know. But to be safe, just wait for me there. It might take me a while, but I should be there before sunrise.”

Before sunrise? How far away was he?

“Okay,” Elijah agreed.

“You’ll be fine Eli. If you think you’ll need cash, you know where to find it. Just don’t bring the brush. That might make you look too pretty.” Elijah chuckled awkwardly then hung up the phone. He grabbed his jacket and for some reason, he felt the need to take the diaries, locket, and pocket watch. He removed them from the shoebox and, luckily, they fit inside his jacket pockets. He ran down the street toward the park, not certain he even locked the door.

When he arrived at Liberty Park, he sat on a nearby bench to catch his breath. It was deathly quiet. Usually, Elijah liked silence, but this was eerie. Ghostly. He moved deeper into the park, crouched next to a tree in the shadows, and covered up with his blanket. It was getting cold. He looked around for anything suspicious or dangerous, but the park was deserted.

A low wind blew noisily and made him shiver. Elijah was keenly aware of every sound. There was a rustle in the bushes that turned out to be a small animal. A leaf blowing on the pavement made him jump until he realized what it was. Elijah tried to relax. He had a long night ahead of him. Eventually, Elijah soon began to grow accustomed to the sounds around him. His eyes grew tired and heavy, and before long he leaned against the tree for rest.

Elijah awoke with the sun shining brightly through the trees. He scanned the park looking for his uncle. Empty. He should have been there by now. He said he would be there by sunrise, but the sun had been up for hours.

After two more hours passed, Elijah knew Uncle Stan wasn’t going to show. He didn’t know what else to do but return to the house, so he gathered his belongings and started back. Maybe Uncle Stan came by, didn’t see him, and went back home, Elijah thought to himself. It was unlikely, but there weren’t a lot of options left he liked.

As Elijah turned the corner onto his uncle’s street, he stopped dead in his tracks. Two police cars were parked in his uncle’s driveway and a third pulled up behind him, keeping him from running.

“This can’t be happening,” Elijah spoke out loud. He walked cautiously toward the house just as Detective Scott emerged from one of the cars and faced Elijah.

Sᴇarch the FindNovel.net website on G𝘰𝘰gle to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.