where we actually are. I hand the big flashlight to Justin a nd take out my mini flashlight.
"Do you think this is it?"
My question hangs heavy in the air. If this is it, we might be mere steps away from solving the mystery of our lives. But if we are wrongâ if all these leads and the key are false, how can we keep ourselves motivated to keep looking?
"There's only one way to find out." Justin says, his voice shining with hope. The excitement in his tone radiates through the room.
I follow the beam of Justin's flashlight down the stairs, which are simple concrete with a sturdy wooden railing. The space smells dank like any other basement would. The collections of spider webs I can see along the edges of the flashlight speak to the fact that no one has been down here in a long time. I try not to think about the spiders that would g o along with those spider webs.
I reach for Justin's hand, which he offers readily, and squeeze. He squeezes back. I am reassured and feel the flutt er of excitement in my stomach.
When we get to the bottom of the stairs, we look around a small space that probably once served as a storage space for the law school. No one has been down here in a long time, though, because most everything is covered in sheets that look like they have a good six inches worth of dust covering them.
Justin moves carefully among the various covered objects, shining hi s flashlight into dark corners.
"Where do we start?" he asks, motioning for me to join him. As excited as I am, this place creeps me out. Who knows what vermin might be lurking under those sheets. I am not going to le t Justin see me falter, though.
I still have my pride.
I weave my way gingerly through the messy space until I am standing next to Justin. He pulls on the edge of a sheet sending a spray of dust into the air. We both cough. When the air clears, Justin aims his light tow ard the area we just uncovered.
A big wooden desk dominates the space. I'm no expert on antiques but this thing looks old and heavy. The desk has three massive drawers on each side. Something compels me to step forwa rd and pull the first one open.
A flurry of spiders scurries past my hand, causing me to shriek and pull back. Justin moves in behind me, taking over drawer opening duty. I shine my light into the drawer. Nothing there but a stack of old books. My stomach drops with disappointment.
If we weren't on a hunt for the gargoyle's missing head, I might have been intrigued by the old books. I would pick them up and admire their old bindings. I would inhale the old book smell. I would marvel at the history present in their pages. But right now I just slam the drawer shut. The sound rever berates around the small space.
"Easy there," Justin chuckles. "We've still got five drawers to check out."
I huff at him, waiting while he opens the other two drawers on this side. He turns up nothing but more old books and some ancient looking pencils. I do snag a notebook thatâs yellowed around the edges. I'm hoping that later I'll be able to flip through it to quell the disappointment of not findi ng the gargoyle's head tonight.
As Justin moves on to the fourth drawer I am debating telling him that I think this is another dead end. He pulls the drawer open and gasps. I crowd in n ext to him to see what he sees.
And there it isâthe gargoyle's headâ staring up at us with its be ady stone eyes and manic smile.
Up close the thing is just plain creepy. What would have possessed anyone to want to steal this thing is beyond me. I hope it can't hear my thoughts. Maybe it'll curse me. I shiver.
Justin reaches into the drawer reverently and lifts out the head. He sets it on the desk, where it tilts slightly to the left from the uneven cut of the neck. He sets the flashlight to shine directly on it. Then we stare at it in silence. I have no idea how long we stand there stari ng at the hideous little thing.
Finally Justin says, "We have to put it back."
I want
"Do you think this is it?"
My question hangs heavy in the air. If this is it, we might be mere steps away from solving the mystery of our lives. But if we are wrongâ if all these leads and the key are false, how can we keep ourselves motivated to keep looking?
"There's only one way to find out." Justin says, his voice shining with hope. The excitement in his tone radiates through the room.
I follow the beam of Justin's flashlight down the stairs, which are simple concrete with a sturdy wooden railing. The space smells dank like any other basement would. The collections of spider webs I can see along the edges of the flashlight speak to the fact that no one has been down here in a long time. I try not to think about the spiders that would g o along with those spider webs.
I reach for Justin's hand, which he offers readily, and squeeze. He squeezes back. I am reassured and feel the flutt er of excitement in my stomach.
When we get to the bottom of the stairs, we look around a small space that probably once served as a storage space for the law school. No one has been down here in a long time, though, because most everything is covered in sheets that look like they have a good six inches worth of dust covering them.
Justin moves carefully among the various covered objects, shining hi s flashlight into dark corners.
"Where do we start?" he asks, motioning for me to join him. As excited as I am, this place creeps me out. Who knows what vermin might be lurking under those sheets. I am not going to le t Justin see me falter, though.
I still have my pride.
I weave my way gingerly through the messy space until I am standing next to Justin. He pulls on the edge of a sheet sending a spray of dust into the air. We both cough. When the air clears, Justin aims his light tow ard the area we just uncovered.
A big wooden desk dominates the space. I'm no expert on antiques but this thing looks old and heavy. The desk has three massive drawers on each side. Something compels me to step forwa rd and pull the first one open.
A flurry of spiders scurries past my hand, causing me to shriek and pull back. Justin moves in behind me, taking over drawer opening duty. I shine my light into the drawer. Nothing there but a stack of old books. My stomach drops with disappointment.
If we weren't on a hunt for the gargoyle's missing head, I might have been intrigued by the old books. I would pick them up and admire their old bindings. I would inhale the old book smell. I would marvel at the history present in their pages. But right now I just slam the drawer shut. The sound rever berates around the small space.
"Easy there," Justin chuckles. "We've still got five drawers to check out."
I huff at him, waiting while he opens the other two drawers on this side. He turns up nothing but more old books and some ancient looking pencils. I do snag a notebook thatâs yellowed around the edges. I'm hoping that later I'll be able to flip through it to quell the disappointment of not findi ng the gargoyle's head tonight.
As Justin moves on to the fourth drawer I am debating telling him that I think this is another dead end. He pulls the drawer open and gasps. I crowd in n ext to him to see what he sees.
And there it isâthe gargoyle's headâ staring up at us with its be ady stone eyes and manic smile.
Up close the thing is just plain creepy. What would have possessed anyone to want to steal this thing is beyond me. I hope it can't hear my thoughts. Maybe it'll curse me. I shiver.
Justin reaches into the drawer reverently and lifts out the head. He sets it on the desk, where it tilts slightly to the left from the uneven cut of the neck. He sets the flashlight to shine directly on it. Then we stare at it in silence. I have no idea how long we stand there stari ng at the hideous little thing.
Finally Justin says, "We have to put it back."
I want
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