[Reviews - 2]
-
Table of Contents [Report This]
Microsoft Word Chapter or Story |
Printer Chapter or Story |
ePub eBook Chapter or Story |

Has been viewed 1110 times

- Text Size +




Ororo spent 45 minutes on alternating between three different answering machines, one in Cairo with an 18 hours time difference with New York City.

Again alternating between what little Arabic she remembered from back in the day, French, English and getting no where.

She sighed; there has got to be a loop hole, anything. Ororo looked through her personal belongings for anything that might’ve been a clue that could be of help and then Ororo remembered the conversation between Laurel and Ororo about how she said that she was new to being manger at the bank. Perhaps, there was a loop hole that she didn’t know about.

Ororo sighed and got dressed again; this time in a pair of Jeans, strapped sandals gold sandals and a black Peter Gabriel Concert Tee she got from her first American Concert with Jean and Scott; that she was surprised she found in the back of her closet and still fit. “Anything is better than waiting around until death finds me.” Ororo quickly grabbed her keycard and drove back to the bank.

~ ~ ~

Laurel; came out with another smile on her face “Ororo?! Back so soon. Found something that I hope can help with your little mystery?”

Ororo half smiled but shook her head; “no, I’m afraid not. Every idea that I get leads me back to Cairo and its after midnight over their right now.”

Laurel frowned “oh dear, that is quite a conundrum, isn’t it? What can I help you with?”

The girls walked back to her office and Ororo nodded “I was hoping we could look through the file again; there has to be something you missed, A note? A letter? A photograph? Anything.”

Laurel bit her bottom lips and sucked on it a bit; “I am going to be honest with you, Ororo, I’ve been through the file twice since you left. I didn’t find anything that made sense.”
She smiled wildly all of a sudden, her eyes actually sparked a new life in them and if Ororo rose a perfectly manicured cloud of an eyebrow “but, what’s that’s that saying? Third time is the charm,” she bit a hangnail and grabbed the file from her top cabinet drawer and shrugged “sue me, I like a good mystery.” She made photo copies of the file for Ororo and passed her the original, Ororo raised another questioning eyebrow “it doesn’t say you can’t see the file, it just says that you can’t see what’s in the box. Besides, there is no details written anywhere about what is in the box, I checked. Repeatedly.”


~ ~ ~

It was somewhere between the second coffee run, and the Kung Pao chicken; when Ororo tiredly rubbed her eyes and turned the file folder upside down and saw numbers written in pencil on the what would now be the top of the file and took the pen out of her mouth long enough to finally ask Laurel about it; “Laurel? These numbers? What are they?”

Laurel didn’t have the file, Ororo did. So Laurel had no idea what Ororo was talking about “what numbers?”

Ororo showed her the numbers she was staring at.

Laurel rubbed her tired eyes and wrote them down on a piece of paper “could be anything; a phone number, coordinates.” She punched the numbers into google maps but nothing came up “no..not coordinates.” She looked at her computer and sighed “no..fucking..um..‘scuse my language; always did cuss like a sailor.”

Ororo waved it off “I live with a guy who spent his entire life in the army; I’m used to it. What are the numbers? Did you figure it out?”

Laurel sucked on her bottom lip again; “not entirely, but..maybe something..the account is over 30 years old..but its one of the first ones that was computerized..so..it is possible.”

Ororo was getting ready to beat herself un-conscience again: “Laurel?”

“Yes?”

“The numbers.”

“The num...ooh right! Sorry.” She blushed “I think its a number to an extension catalogue.” When Ororo’s only response was blinking twice, Laurel took it as a sign to explain further “some of our older accounts, had amendments and stuff over the years and decades they have been with the bank. Key holders added, things like that.”

Ororo nodded and was getting a sore neck from doing so.

“Sometimes the amendments and files and stuff get so large, or are really messed up instructions; like one time this guy wrote a whole novel length scavenger hunt as ‘special instructions’-anyway...babbling again, heh. Sometimes we have to move the amendments to another extension kinda like file one of four or whatever. I think this penciled number in the corner is an extension number like for another file..or a note or something,” the young woman shrugged. “maybe.”

Ororo’s sky blue eyes widened in disbelief “well? How do you find out?”

Laurel turned to the computer and punched it in, a little box popped up “E178-A43” It was Laurel’s turn to raise an eyebrow “speaking of scavenger hunts. ‘Scuse me.”

Ororo sat back and rubbed the bridge of her nose and sighed, and she thought about the kids and Logan and what they were probably doing with her not there probably running ragged and causing trouble. Probably Logan more than the kids she half chuckled.

The clacking of high heels made Ororo sit up straighter and rub her eyes, Laurel was in the door way looking like she was going to cry; “I don’t believe this.”

“Oh?”

“I was right, it was an extension. A second set of instructions. To be frank its actually a paper on ‘what to do in case David Munroe or Charles Xavier could not be with the person who was to open it. Want me to read the instructions?”

Ororo nodded finally.

“To whom it may concern; this safety deposit box, that was put into trust for Ororo Iqadi Munroe by her parents David and N’Dare. They had entrusted me; Charles Francis Xavier to keep the box safe for Ororo. The box is to only be open by Ororo Munroe. I would like to be there, as I know her father would have wanted it that way. If that is not possible. All Ororo would have to do is give the password to the bank manager and everything will be set in motion.” The letter ended and Laurel licked her suddenly dry lips.

Ororo sat with tears in her eyes “password? I..I have no clue..password?”

Laurel nodded and punched the account number on the computer and sure enough a little green box with a cursor popped up “any ideas?” she whispered.

“Not a one. I knew Charles Xavier for almost a third of my life, not once did I know that he knew my father. The man never hinted at it at all. Where am I to start?”

Laurel sighed and took her high heels off and tucked them under her; she reached into her desk and gave Ororo a legal pad “if I can suggest? Write everything your father may or does have in common with Charles Xavier. From there it could be a process of elimination. Can I try to eliminate some obvious ones right off the bat?”
Ororo nodded; and tried to think as Laurel turned to the computer and punched random letters on the computer. “Well, if anything-who ever set the password on this was very smart about it. It is not: Ororo, Munroe, Xavier, N’Dare or David.” She tried another one “or Iqadi.”

“Just to halt all stupidity, cause if I don’t try this then I give up: is the password swordfish?” Ororo shrugged.

Laurel giggled, tried it and shook her head “nope,” She wrote it on the list of ‘all ready tried.’

“Sorry, I know it seemed random, but they both had this thing for those old movies, you know the black and white ones done in like the 50s and stuff? That was the only thing they really ever had it common. I don’t.” She sighed “I don’t remember a lot about my father, but I remember laying my head in his lap every Saturday morning and instead of cartoons we would watch John Wayne, or Cary Grant.”

Laurel found herself smiling at the memory even though it wasn’t hers; “its also not movie, film, cinema, John, Wayne, Cary, Grant.”

Ororo looked at her incredulously.

Laurel shrugged, “You would be surprised. Since you’re wondering.” She typed in several other key words before she spoke “its also not: Oz, tin man, scarecrow, auntie em, tornado, no place like home, air balloon, the wizard, Dorothy, Toto, Glenda, or witch, munchkin or yellow brick road.”

Ororo sighed, “How did you know I was going to say something about the wizard of Oz?”

“Its everyone’s favorite movie, and you did mention classic movies.”

“Its not password is it?”

“and the password is...not password.”

Ororo rested her head on the desk in front of her “It has to be something they both have in common or it won’t make any sense: New York? Harlem? Photography? National Geographic.”

“National Geographic?”

“My father was a photographer for them, and Charles had a subscription.”
“Ah.”
Ororo continued to think and talk to herself.

“No, no, no, and no.”

“Damn, damn, damn and damn.”

“This feels like something out of a Dan Brown novel.”

“More like Katherine Neville.”

“Ooh, hers two have you read the eight? Fan-freaking-tastic!”

“Chess!”

More clacking “not: bishop, pawn, rook, king, queen, board, black, white, square, knight.”

“Did they used to play together?”

“I am not sure. I was reaching for straws with that one. My father died when I was very young, both parents actually; I did not meet Charles until I was well into my teen, almost adult years. I..I am sorry Laurel, but none of this is making any sense. The only other things that I could see them having in common is Africa, but, that is such a broad topic.”

Laurel played with the ends of her hair “I know this is frustrating, if you want to stop we can. Maybe pick it up in the morning.” Laurel looked at her watch.

Ororo facepalmed herself gently; “Laurel, I’m sorry! You probably have a life outside this office, and here I am dominating your evening, I..we can pick this up again tomorrow if that is better for you.”

“The only thing I have at home is DJ Meow Mix. A tiger colored domestic kitty.” She laughed “my niece named her on a visit here, and if I know Mr. Mix he’s already gotten himself something to eat. Too inquisitive for his own good,” she chuckled. “I was just thinking about you; This part of New York isn’t a bad area. But, if you don’t have a car, It could be a little sketchy.”

Ororo shrugged nonchalantly, “I can take care of myself.”

Laurel nodded, “Okay, tell you what. Its almost eight we’ll stay for another twenty minutes, and then I’ll drive you to you’re hotel tonight and we can pick it up tomorrow.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

“Good. Where were we? Oooh! Right, Africa.”

“Its a continent.”

Laurel shot her a ‘well Duh,’ look “anything more specific or did you want me to type in Africa?”

“I don’t know much about the professor’s travels; the only thing I can think African that they’d have in common would be Egypt.”

“Egypt.”

Ororo nodded, “my family and I lived in Cairo and...ooh yeah, I guess Kenya too.”

“Kenya.”

“Yep.”

“So...How do you want to deal with this?”

She chewed on her full bottom lip and shrugged, she found herself chuckling; she always chastised the students for shrugging and being so indecisive and nonchalant about everything, and she shrugged more than her fair share today; “Honestly, if its anything to do about Africa; it’d be more Egypt. Let’s concentrate on that one.”

Laurel nodded, “Fair enough; so what do we got? Pyramids, Sphinxes, Bazaars, camels.” She paused “I know I’m over generalizing, I’m sorry.”

“You are right mostly, at least in the ‘tourists sector.’ So many museums, so much history,” She sighed “and can’t forget the sand.” She placed her dainty, tiny hands to both her temples and closed her eyes trying to shake bad memories.

“Nada.” more clacking of the keys and scratching on a legal pad.

“This is getting ridiculous.” Ororo sighed.

“Tell me about it?” Laurel made a face at her cold coffee.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Of Course.”

“This isn’t some weird elaborate hoax is it?”

“What do you mean?”

“When I was little my dad, to give me my birthday present would put me on this big long extravagant scavenger hunt to find it. Sometimes the hunts were more fun than the actual gifts. Sometimes Charles would do the same thing, send me on wild hunts so I can keep my puzzle solving skills up to par.”

Laurel was understanding now, “I’m going to level with you Ororo. If it was some sort of trick, or surprise. I would’ve given you the password along time ago, if I knew it. I’m just in the dark as you on this. I’m sorry, sweetie, honestly.”

“I know, I’m sorry, I’m just-”

“Getting frustrated?”

“Hmmm.”

“Why don’t we pick up tomorrow?” she looked at her appointment book “I can clear everything passed five p.m. again, we’ve been at this for almost six hours Ororo; it’ll make sense that you are frustrated and tired; I’m sorry, we’ve shouldn’t have pushed each other so hard.”

Silence.

“Ororo? You hear me sweetie? You okay?” normally Laurel wouldn’t normally go around calling her clients ‘sweetie,’ but than again, normally she doesn’t spend six plus hours with them in any given day.

“Hmm?” Ororo yawned and excused herself “sorry, I was just thinking what Anansi must be up to.

“Uhm...repeat that? What is a Nancy?”

“Oh, uh, Anansi. Its an African legend. They originate in countries like Ghana. But every country has their own version.”

“Can I ask what that is?”

“Sure, its like those Aesop stories they teach in school’s here, like with the tortoise and the hare. Anansi, is a little spider trickster god. Who thinks he can out smart everyone but it always comes back to haunt him. There are different stories: the Anansi and the mark of the panther, how anansi got his stories. One of them became an American Folk tale. Brer Rabbit.
Laurel nodded and smiled “neat, no really thats cool! But, what does Anansi have to do with this?” Laurel rested her chin in her palm and faced Ororo so she could give Ororo her full attention.

“My father was a practical joker, but, there was always a lesson somehow behind it. Always, in his own little ‘father knows best’ kind of way. When I found out about the anansi stories, I used to call him my own little anansi.” she smiled at the memory “When Professor Xavier found me, When I grew older he would ask me to tell him, stories about our trickster friend.” Her eyes darted back and forth as she went to a small day dream state “sometimes I would tell him the stories that I knew, that my mother had told me. Other times they would be memories and stories of my father. I think the professor just wanted me to remember where I came from. Especially since I was the only African girl It was easy to get amalgamated and kind of..forget. Even though I was born in Harlem; I was still very much African when I came back.”

“Aww, thats nice...wait..so they both knew about this Anansi thing?”

Ororo nodded, and then it dawned on her “you don’t think-”

“One way to find out,” she handed Ororo the legal pad they were using as a scratch pad “how do you spell it?” Ororo quickly wrote the word down on the legal pad and the green square that was originally waiting for the password flashed once and then disappeared. “Fucking Christ!” she whispered to the screen.

Ororo raised an eyebrow and leaned forward to get a look at the computer monitor “what? What? Did something happen? Did you get thrown out of the program?”

Laurel shook her head, “that was the password. You figured it out.”

“Anansi.”

“Yes.”

“Anansi was the password.”

“Yep.”

“That was it.”

“Indeed.”

“You are kidding?”

“No.”
“Hnh.”

“What?”

“I never did like spiders.”





You must login () to review.