Page 25 of Christmas Cove

At the bottom landing, an old florescent rod flickered to life. As it warmed from pink to bright white, the air lost its dampness. He knew it was an illusion, but something about a cold and dark basement had always left him feeling damp on the inside. Small, slivered windows sat just above ground level, and the afternoon sun spilled through the room, adding to the brightness. The lighter, the better.

“This way,” he said and made for the stone wall near what was the front of the building. At the breaker box, he opened the door and saw that everything was in perfect working order. “Strange,” he said. “What do you think it could be...America?” He turned around, thinking she was directly behind his shoulder, but she was gone. “America?” he said, and his voice echoed against the walls.

“I’m over here. Take a look at this stuff.”

America had stumbled on to the shelves filled with archived photographs. “You’re like a little mouse, always hunting for something good.”

She ignored him and said, “Did you know all of this was down here? Some of these photos will be great for the article. If that’s all right, I mean.”

“As long as you bring them back, I don’t see what it can hurt.”

He watched as America thumbed through box after box and commented on the subjects of each image. She was in a universe to herself, and he had the privilege of simply observing her in it. Although he wasn’t listening to her descriptions, he could tell that her heart was full of wonder from the way her smile grew wider with each box she dove into.

“You’re so lucky to have all this history documented. Many places our writers go have lost so much of their past due to fires, storms, and theft. Please tell me all of this is backed up digitally.” Her worry line had returned, only deeper with concern than it had been when she thought he was a murderer.

“I don’t think so, actually.”

“You know, most library systems will do the archiving. They all get federal and state funding for this kind of thing. You should look into it.”

“I think I will. It would be a shame to lose all this. One of the longest serving mayors, nearly forty years, was a photographer, a hobbyist really, but that’s why so many memories have been captured so beautifully.”

Not sure what he would find, Leo peeked inside a box labeled with the year 1999. His heart began to pound against his ribs as he fingered through the prints. The colored photos, hardly faded by time, seemed to be peeled straight from his mind. One after another, he searched for a woman in a blue coat holding the hand of a little boy wearing a red puffer.

He gasped.

America stood at his side, looking over his shoulder. “What is it?”

With a shaking hand, he held the photo for her to see. “My mother.”

“She’s beautiful. And is that you?”

He nodded and put the photo back in the box from where it came. “In all my years here, I never thought to look at any of these prints. I didn’t know that I was a star in the 1999 archive.”

“Well, mister star, did you get the fountain working?” America asked and put away the last box she had gone through.

“No. It’s the darnedest thing. All the electricity is on fine. Pa said to check the breaker...” Leo had a suspicion that he was being set up by the meddling old man who had not so subtly prodded him into spending more time with the big-city writer.

“That’s what he said. Why? You think it’s something else?”

“I do. Can you head back out on your own, and I’ll join you in a few minutes?”

“Sure,” she said, though he could see her curiosity tighten her upper cheeks. “Do you want me to come with you?”

Her offer melted away any annoyance he felt towards Edwin. “I got it. Thanks though.”

Outside, around the back of the building, Leo spotted the problem. The red lever on the secondary power to the building had been turned off, and below the power box, the plug dangled from its socket. “Seriously!”

Edwin’s cackle ricocheted off the brick exterior and right to the place where Leo had stored the melted annoyance. “Were you lurking in the shadows and waiting for me to come around?”

Leo’s irritation crystalized as the old man slapped Leo on the back and gave no answer.

“You did this on purpose.”

“Worked, too! Like a champ. You and the lady were inside for quite a while...” Edwin nudged Leo’s ribs.

“We checked the breakers, and she got distracted by the archive photos. That’s all. Nothing happened.” Leo shoved away from the man. “Besides, America is very sweet, and I’m no murderer.”

“Come again?”

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