Chapter 2 - Strange Things

The trunk had a heavy-duty padlock, and there was no evidence of a key at the home in Piriápolis. She would either have to get a locksmith or break the lock. Catherine was apprehensive about what she would find inside. She knew it wasn't just clothes or trinkets. Sara had provided hints over the years about things she was involved with, but every time Catherine tried to dig deeper, Sara would change the subject or provide some cryptic answer. And as the years passed, her answers became even more evasive.

The trunk was massive—at least three feet wide and over two feet tall. It was a flat-top rectangular wooden box with metal trim and hardware, hardwood staves and horizontal running slats that looked like they'd survived decades of rough handling. Catherine placed the screwdriver into the bend of the lock and with two heavy hits of the hammer, the lock broke open with a sharp crack that echoed through her quiet house.

Inside the trunk were stacks of notebooks, journals, and artifacts—some looked antique or archaeological in nature. In a separate container were carefully packed research papers, documents, and old maps. On top of the papers was a green envelope.

Catherine's blood ran cold. She knew what that meant.

The color green was the secret code between Sara and Jax. It was one of the first words he'd spoken. He was barely a year old when he pointed to a box on the kitchen counter and said, "green rocks." Sara didn't know what he wanted but finally noticed a box of Kleenex™ tissues on the counter where he was pointing. So it became a long-running joke and code words between them—either green or Kleenex.

Catherine knew the envelope was for Jax, but she couldn't wait. Her hands trembled as she carefully opened it and immediately recognized Sara's haphazard writing style, which was sometimes nearly indecipherable. The letter was dated July 14th, 2019.

Hey Catherine, I miss you! This letter was meant for you, not Jax. I can only hope that you are the one reading this, that it has not fallen into the wrong hands. Try not to worry about me. You know me. I can take care of myself. There is so much you should know, and I have spent years trying to understand and decipher the information I was given, but I did not want to tell you anything until the time was right.

Start by reading the journals dated 1994 because that's when it began. Most of the other journals are research or field notes that may not make any sense right now.

Do you remember when I told you about the incident in July 1995 when Jax and I were in Chicago? After that incident, he and I had a long discussion about what we saw and what happened to us. I don't suppose you could have forgotten because I'm pretty sure you thought I was crazy at the time, but I know you have kept our secret. Over the years I discovered there was much more to what happened that night.

Remember when I went to Ecuador and the Galápagos for Jax's 13th birthday and Drake went with us? Drake and I discovered some important—very important humanity-altering information. Things I could not share with you at the time. I have not gone crazy, but reading the journals will cause you some concern. You will find that Jax and Drake know all of this, but I am sure that at this writing they have not told you anything.
Drake and I have been in close touch over the years. It might sound strange to you, but we found out that we have a physical relationship in common. No, no, not the sexual kind, but some common ancestry that's quite unique. I'll leave that for a later discussion. It is time now to make things known. We are in that process now. Seriously. Try not to worry about me.

Kiss the boys for me. They're not really boys anymore, are they? But give them a big kiss anyway.
Love Sara

Catherine's hands shook as she set the letter down. Twenty-five years of lies. Her best friend, her brother, Jax, too—all of them keeping secrets that were apparently so massive they could alter humanity itself.

She texted Jax with fingers that felt numb: "There's a letter in here from your mom and it's weird. We need to talk. When can you come over?"

Catherine got a text back within the minute: "I cannot come over until Friday. I know you don't want to wait that long, but Drake and I are going out of town for a couple of days. Read the 1994-95 journals. I know what's in them. Try not to worry. Drake and I will contact you as soon as we get back."

Catherine sat back on the floor in front of the trunk, panic rising in her chest. She paused to take some deep breaths before texting Drake, mumbling to herself out loud: "What the hell could my brother have to do with this?"

"Call me ASAP. I picked up the trunk from Uruguay. There was a letter in it from Sara. We need to talk."

Catherine got an immediate text back: "I know all about it. Jax called this morning. We are going out of town, and we will contact you as soon as we're back. Try not to worry."

Her phone pinged again. It was Drake: "Seriously, don't worry. Go to work. Everything is going to be okay. And it might be better if you didn't tell Loren or anyone about this right now. Your husband might overreact."

Try not to worry? Worry didn't begin to describe how Catherine was feeling. Terror was more accurate. But she decided to take Drake's advice and go to work—she had a busy schedule that should distract her for a couple of days until the boys got back from wherever the hell they were going. Now she was curious about that too. Where would Drake and Jax be going together out of town on such short notice? They were good friends but from completely different age groups and job associations.

The idea of waiting until Friday was nearly unbearable, but Catherine got up and got ready for work.

She would start on the journals tonight. Whatever Sara had discovered, whatever had made her run, whatever had connected her brother to secrets that could change everything—Catherine had a sinking feeling that once she opened those journals, there would be no going back.

Some doors, once opened, can never be closed again.