Part 12

August stood transfixed, staring at the package addressed to a missing boy. What could this be? And how long did it take them to deliver this thing? Caleb's been missing for nearly half a year and this only comes now? Dozens of questions peppered August's thoughts. He instinctively reached for the package again.

Holding it gingerly in this two hands he slowly picked it up to test its weight. It was quite light. A bit heavier than a comic book but not quite the weight of a decent sized hard back book. August shook it slightly from side to side. This action emitted no sounds. No rustling of paper, no movement of loose pieces. August turned the package over nimbly in his hands to study the packaging itself.

It was a common brown cardboard shipping box. However, there were no identifiable markings that many boxes typically had. No imprint from the manufacturer, no date stamping from the post office, nothing so much as a packing slip or shipping receipt. August flipped the box upright again to look at the address label.

The address block was made out to Caleb Pope C/O Knights and the Page. It had the correct address for the comic book shop but no return address. In the slot that should have held the senders information there was a simple blue ink stamp. It was a little faded, but to August the stamp looked like it was a harp.

August angled the box into the light to try and see the stamp more clearly. No, it wasn't really a harp. Not like the harps you see today. Not the large harps that you may see being played by a long haired woman at a wedding. This was a smaller instrument. It was shaped like a U, with a bar across the top and the strings pulled down to the base. August remember the name of this instrument from his Ancient Culture's class, it was called a lyre.

August tried to think of the trademark logos he had seen for some of the companies that often shipped publications or collectibles to the store. There were numerous dragons, skulls, crossed swords and even silhouettes of naked women, but he could not recall ever seeing a company logo with a lyre.

"What is this?", August actually asked the question aloud.

He examined the seams of the packaging. The box was not bound by layers of packaging tape so the flaps must have been glued prior to shipping. Normally, packages that were packed with soft Styrofoam peanuts still made some noises when shook due to the shifting, so this meant the contents of the box were protected very snugly. Since there was no return address August had no idea how long or how far this box had traveled during shipment.

As August held the package it called to him like Pandora's box. He set the package back down on the counter to subdue the urge to open it. He stuffed his hands in his pockets to they couldn't tug at the secured flaps.
"Stop it!" He commanded himself, "You're not going to open the box. Why would you want to open it anyway?" August knew it was wrong, but for some reason he felt compelled to see what was stored so securely in the package. He pulled out his right hand and scratched his chin.

"Maybe it's a clue to Caleb's whereabouts. Maybe it could help us find him." August tended to side with the police's assertion that Caleb had simply run away. Since there was no evidence of abduction, no ransom note or previous threats it had been the only logical conclusion for many folks to make. Then August's thoughts turned more dire.

"Maybe it's a message from the kidnappers? Maybe it's an ear or a finger? What if its an eyeball?" August would have slapped himself to stop this train of thought if he hadn't been worried that him own slap may hurt too much.

"You're being an idiot. Its probably just a comic book that Caleb had ordered a long time ago and the order was delayed. Or it was a rare issue that had been back logged and the wait was just really long." This was not completely out of line, at times very rare issues or very popular issues came with very long ordering queues. August finally relented and told himself that it was exactly that. It was a back ordered comic book that Caleb had sent out for long ago and it's delivery had just been delayed all this time. August picked the package up again off of the counter.

"You ready yet?"

A loud female voice reverberated in his ear drum causing August to jump. In his surprise August's normally steady hands fumbled the package. He felt the package slip forward from his left hand then he over compensated by trying to grip harder with his right hand. This extra pressure could not secure the package, rather it sent the package squirting further from his reach.

August's eyes went wide as he watched helplessly as his fingers flailed uselessly trying to snatch the falling box. He nearly had it grip on it before it hit the hard tile ground but it tumbled away from his fingers like an acrobat bouncing effortlessly on a trampoline. Like an unsuccessful juggler, August was just a disheartened viewer unable to prevent the box's fall. He saw the leading corner of the box racing towards the floor.

"The package has to be strong enough to survive this small a drop, doesn't it?" were the last words sprinting through August's mind before his thoughts were cleared by the sound of a loud crack.

He had heard that sound before. As a child that sound was like a prophecy handed to him by a Delphic Oracle. August had always been a fan of Ancient Mythologies, with Greek and Nordic mythos as his favorites. As a child he had read about the Priestesses who lived in the Temple of Apollo outside the ancient Greek city of Delphi. The myths said that the Greek Sun God Apollo would foretell the future through these Priestesses, sometimes called the Delphic Sibyl or the Oracle of Delphi.

These Oracles would answer one question for would be seeker about their future or how to please the Gods. The most famous story that involved the Delphic Oracle was of course the tale of Helen of Troy and the subsequent epic Trojan war.

The sound August heard brought him back to his childhood. It had seemingly signaled the path his young life would take. The loud crack was the sound, of breaking glass.

Young August had survived a rough childhood. His father was a factory foreman for a large Midwestern manufacturing company. That company manufactured machine parts for automobiles and contracted with the three large Detroit car companies. Through the years those three companies suffered staggering losses and were forced to close many of there production facilities.

As the number of vehicles manufactured diminished, so did the need for the parts that went into those vehicles. So, August's dad was transferred from town to town, seeming to leave right before each facility was shut down. What August didn't realize until he was older was that his father had actually been the man in charge of supervising the shut down of each of these plants.

As you could imagine, most children did not like the boy who's father was taking away their mom or dad's jobs and in essence killing many of these smaller towns. August's father had taken no joy in his responsibilities and often contemplated quitting, but coming home to his own wife and child - who he needed to support - spurred him to keep working.

Respite for August finally came after the last of these manufacturing plants had been closed. His father had settled on taking a small managerial position for a small local candy company. With no one to fire, no jobs to terminate and no community to destroy, August's father finally felt peace. And with this peace, August hoped to finally make friends.

CRACK

August could hear the tell tale whisper of shattered glass. He could almost picture the spidery fingers stretching across the pane splintering and destroying as it progressed.

August's family had just settled into a new neighborhood just outside of the city limits. His father, who had once lived in the midst of the urban sprawl enjoyed the small quaint neighborhood. His parents liked the fact that the middle school that August would attend was at the front of the neighborhood and could easily be walked to.

August had seen all of the neighborhood children playing in the streets and knew he could reinvent himself here. He could become whoever he wanted to be. He wouldn't be the weird kid who liked to read funny books. He wouldn't be the nerd. He wouldn't be the outcast. He wouldn't be the social pariah who's father was responsible for ruining the local economy.

Alas, the Oracle of Delphi foresaw that August's wish would not come true.