Hudson & Maine: The Lighthouse (Chapter 2) by Johnny Guerra
“Alright, here’s your stop.”
That’s the cab driver and by the tone of his voice he is a little hurried. I shift in the back seat searching for my wallet and notice the man adjusting his front mirror. He stares at me like a hawk.
“That’s thirty-two dollars,” the man says clearing his throat. I give him forty dollars and let him know that he can keep the change. His eyes widen.
“Oh, thank you,” he says with genuine appreciation in his voice. “My five-year-old boy is definitely getting his train set this Christmas!”
I can see hope gleaming out of his eyes and this makes me smile. I wish him and his family the best of Christmas and I step out of the cab. He drives off and I am left standing in front of the Hudson Theatre. I look down at my watch: Ten minutes early.
This isn’t easy to explain to the most sensitive of hearts. I’m in a dream and I know what’s going to happen. It’s not that I can predict the future, but because these are repeated dreams. The difference now is that I’m able to gain more control of my dreams and piece things together to make sense of it all. This time I was able to take myself back ten minutes earlier in hopes of searching for clues that will prevent my death. You see, there was a ripple effect in my last dream and I was actually seen by the most powerful man in the city; I’m on his Most Wanted list. Now the question is: will he recognize me from the last dream? That’s a risk I’ll have to take.
I snap out of my thoughts when I hear a piano melody playing in the background. Blurry and flickering lights come into focus. I’ve become mesmerized by the marquee lights of the grand theatre that stands before me. I admire its beautiful exterior and detailed architecture that was built in the late 1920s. There is something very nostalgic about the Roaring Twenties.
Applause. A crowd gathers around a performer juggling pins in the air. The boy. He’s performing on the curb in front of the Hudson Theatre. I remind myself that I only have ten minutes before everything happens. I look both ways for incoming cars and step off the curb. My heart begins to race of the anxiety that is building inside me. No Chrylser in sight and I make my way to the other side of the street. I search for the boy as they applaud his performance. Bystanders begin to walk about as the boy places his pins on the ground and hands out flyers.
“Extra! Extra!,” the boy cries out. “Step right in and discover our new way of story tellin’ starring our very own Drew Barrymore!”
The kid’s got spunk. Random people walk by as they take interest in the flyers. I make my way over to him and place twenty dollars in his tin can. He notices this and stops passing out the flyers. He walks up to me and extends his hand directly to me.
“The name’s James. Put it there!” He has a strong grip for a twelve-year-old.
“You’ve got a nifty sales pitch, James,” I say shaking his hand. “Where you learn that?”
“My Pop. I learned it from him and more. Per-ver-sence and dedication’,” he says very proud of himself. I can’t help but laugh.
“You mean perseverance?,” I ask James and he nods smiling with both hands on his hips resembling a superhero.
More people pass by his booth. Some congratulate him and others scurry off like if he were the plague. I notice he has a small both set up.
“Is this all you got?”
James is embarrassed and looks down at his worn out shoes. “It’s really all I own.” Then he looks up at me concerned and takes a hold of my coat. “Oh, please don’t turn me into the sheriff’s office. I’ve got nowhere else to go! Please, sir. It’s Christmas!”
I look down at him and let him know that he does not have to worry and that all I want to do is help him. I kneel next to him and James gives me a hug, then exclaims with joy.
“Oh! The Johnson’s are coming over. You should meet them!”
I turn my head over to where James is pointing and it is the elderly couple making their way to us. My heart begins to race because now that I’ve got less than two minutes. I stand up and fix my coat.
“I’m actually running a bit late, so it’s best that I continue on home.” I pat James on the shoulder and give him a gentle nudge. “Keep up the great work! You’re impressive!”
Before I can make a run for it, James slaps a flyer on my chest and I take it without looking. I hurry over to a post where I am not seen and keep and watchful eye as James greets the elderly couple. I look down at the flyer and it is an illustration of Drew Barrymore dancing in a 1920s flapper dress. It reads: The Hudson presents “Wildflower!”: Barrymore dances to The Charleston!
I scan the street for the Chrysler, but no sign of it yet. Looking back at the interaction between James and the elderly couple reminds me of a tennis match. The Johnsons look excited and they say something that makes James jump with joy. James kicks one of his juggling pins over the curve and without much thought I go retrieve his only valuables. James and the elderly couple haven’t the slightest clue about this. I take the pin into my hands and as if on cue –– ZOOOM!
I look at my watch and know exactly what is about to happen.
The 1928 Chrysler 75 Roadster speeds past me and I don’t flinch. The driver honks at pedestrians to get out of the way and a man in the passenger seat reaches over the back, flings a sack into the air and lands with a solid thud on the ground. The Chrysler makes a sharp left turn, as people are left shaken of the random incident.
I turn my attention on the door of a mom-and-pop shop and almost immediately a man in a fedora walks out onto the street and toward the sack. He crouches over, unties the sack and a satisfying look spreads across his face as he reveals diamonds in his hands. He gives a short menacing laugh and places the diamonds back in the bag. He stands up and whispers to his henchmen who have joined him. Without looking back I take a few steps back and then…
Crunch.
Great, I stepped on a can and that brought the man’s attention to me.
“Hey! Stop right there!,” the man shouts with a menacing tone. He hands the sack of diamonds to one of his goons and he points a .32 Colt pocket revolver in my direction. His eyes are fixed on mine.
“You’re dead, kid!”
He runs at me at full speed and I stand firm on the ground. It’s now or never. Then I remember he can’t hurt me in my dream and he is only a few feet away from me. I’m ready to feel the hit. Then I surprise myself when I make the first strike at him. The surge of power through my arm is something I hadn’t felt before. I’m going to lock a fist punch.
And then they pass right through me as if I were a ghost. I turn to follow them and notice that they’re chasing James down the theatre block and into the alley. Without thinking I start running behind the men, as I’m on a mission to help James out of this mess.
To my advantage, crowds of people help the boy as they try to block the men from gaining on him. A crate of fruit falls over the men and I slither my way through the chaos. I reach the alley and it is very familiar to me, as if I’ve been here before. Is this where the boy ran through? Where is he? Then I see a ladder up against the wall of the side of the theatre with an open window on the second floor. I make my way up as fast as I can, slide inside and close the window behind me. I look around the window and curtains are strewn to the sides. I untie them and let them fall to block the view. I peek out from the edge of the curtain and see the men running into the alley pointing their revolvers in front of them.
“Come out, kid! We ain’t gonna hurt ya!”
“Just give us what is ours and you do not have to hear from us again,” the second goon says. “If you don’t, we’ll hurt ya.”
“It’ll only hurt a little,” says the third goon. The men laugh as if it were something comical.
I hear something move inside the dark room and I turn to look into the shadows. Boxes, barrels and a few broken whiskey bottles lay on the wooden floor.
“Who’s there?,” a whisper escapes out of me. My heart is racing, but I try to muster the courage. I try again, this time, with a more confident tone. “Show yourself!”
I hear footsteps and then I see a boy walking up to the barely visible light in the room. He is holding two juggling pins in his hands.
“They’re after me,” James says frightened, “They’re going to kill me this time.”
“James, what are you doing here?!,” I exclaim as I rush toward him to see if he’s hurt. “Are you okay?”
James shakes his head.
“James, you’ve got to help me here. Who are they? What do they want?”
The boy walks over to the window and safely peers out. He sees the man down below.
“They’re the Thunderheads. It’s what we call ‘em here in town.”
I look at him confused and still trying to make sense of it all.
“They’re after something…and I’ve got it.”
James places one of his juggling pins on the floor, takes the other pin and unscrews it open. He carefully removes the top part of the pin to reveal a wrapped tissue paper. He takes it out of the pin and carefully unwraps it to reveal a small heart-shaped diamond necklace and he lets me take it into my hands. The diamond stone is cobalt blue and it is gorgeous. I am amazed by its beauty and detail.
“The Thunderheads are after The Heart of the Sea diamond. It is worth millions. It can’t get in the wrong hands. I’ve got to take it back to its keeper.”
I let him know that I can help him get this diamond back in the right hands of the law and that he doesn’t need to put his life at risk. He doesn’t seem convinced by the idea and is very adamant about his choice. He gently takes the diamond from my hand and wraps it in the tissue paper.
“You need to help me get this back where it belongs,” James says as he places the diamond in the juggling pin and screws it shut.
“Where?,” I ask with curiosity.
James searches in his back pocket and shows me a folded paper. It is revealed to be an old photograph of a lighthouse taken in April of 1924.
“This is where the Heart of the Sea belongs…”
“…The Hudson Lighthouse,” I finish his sentence as I read the caption under the photograph. James looks at me with hope in his eyes. If I can give him a great adventure, then I will give him a great magical adventure this Christmas.
“Lead me the way, James.”
