CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Their break-in at the museum was planned for Friday night. They didn’t want to draw any extra attention to themselves, and figured this was the one night of the week all three of them could get out of their houses with an easy excuse of going to the movies. Horace also promised Anna he wouldn’t go back to the Benben Stone until after they had spoken with Herman. But on Thursday, Horace decided he wanted to check on his grandmother one more time.

After school Horace grabbed his bike and made his way over to Sunset Living.

When he arrived, he found his grandmother outside in the rose garden with one of the caretakers. She was sitting in her wheelchair, the sun shining upon her face. She was wearing the softest of smiles.

“Would you like to help before she goes in for dinner?” the woman asked, noticing Horace as he rode up on his bike.

“Yes,” Horace answered, hoping to have a few moments alone to speak with her. “I’ll bring her down to the cafeteria.”

“That would be really nice of you. I think she would like that.”

The aide walked over to another patient, and Horace was left alone with his grandmother.

Horace reached down and pulled up the high-compression socks on his grandmother’s ankles. They were meant to reduce blood clots and aid with her circulation. Both were a concern now that her mobility was dramatically reduced to spending most days in a wheelchair.

“Grandma, can I ask you something?” He was hoping to make sense of their last conversation, and he had a remaining question that had been lingering for days.

“Of course, Horace, what is it?”

“Back in Detroit, what was in the treasury? You never told me.”

Without hesitating, she answered. “Why, the most treasured possession of the Keepers—besides the Benben Stone and the scarab beetles,” she added with a smile.

Horace was frozen in anticipation.

“The lost prophecy,” she continued. “A message from the original creators of the Benben Stone about its ultimate destiny. Anyone who was in possession of the prophecy would know the true purpose of the Keepers of Time and the ultimate destiny of the Benben Stone. That is why Antoine Cadillac and those knights brought the stone to the New World: to fulfill the prophecy.” She paused, staring out over the lawn at the afternoon sun.

Horace’s eyes widened in amazement. “That sounds incredible!” But as he processed the information, another thought came to mind. “Did Grandpa know about the treasury? Where the Keepers hid it?”

“That is what he was seeking this whole time.” And then her smile faded. “But the Order has many enemies, and they have been looking for the treasury as well. Even in the Order, only a select group of members were tasked with keeping this great secret.”

The mention of enemies raised another question in Horace’s mind. “Do you know anything about Mr. Franken at the museum? Was he ever friends with Grandpa?”

She began to shake her head. “Not him, not him again.” She started to grow agitated.

“What is it, Grandma?”

His grandmother now was looking off to the side. “I tried to warn you, Horace. Stay away from Franken. Stay away from him!” Her breathing became labored.

“Grandma! Grandma!”

Her eyes lost their brightness, growing cloudy, and it seemed she was no longer responsive. Horace called for help. “Help! Please help!”

Another aide sitting nearby with a resident came running over. “Can I assist you?”

“Yes, something’s not right. I think my grandmother needs help.”

The aide pulled out a phone and called for assistance. Within moments another aide and a nurse appeared in the garden.

By now his grandmother was slumped over in the wheelchair, and her eyes had rolled back in her head.

“Grandma!” Horace shouted as he squeezed her cold hand.

As he moved closer toward her, the nurse intercepted him. “Please, I have to ask you to step back.”

Suddenly Horace realized this wasn’t just one of his grandmother’s usual spells. Something was really wrong with her.

Horace stood at the back of the garden, frozen in fear. A nurse placed an oxygen mask on his grandmother’s face. Then the elderly woman was moved to a gurney. A pair of paramedics crouched over her, pressing furiously against her chest. Minutes later they wheeled the gurney out of the garden. Horace watched as his grandmother was loaded into an ambulance. With sirens blaring, it soon rushed off.

Horace was in a daze. One of the nurses spotted him still standing in the garden and walked over to him. “I’m sorry, but I think you should probably head home now. We called your mother, and she is going to meet your grandma at the hospital.”

“Was it something I did?”

“No.” The woman patted his arm. “They will learn more at the hospital. There was nothing you could do. It looks like she had a stroke.”

Horace didn’t believe her. I never should have asked her about Mr. Franken, he thought.