Chapter 2: A Secret Rendezvous

The MisAdventures of Leighton Fig

Dec 11, 2024

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Chapter 2—A Secret Rendezvous

Darkness fell on Red Oak Ranch, but sleep kept away. June had returned with her dad to their ranch home on the eastern part of the property. She sat up in her bedroom reading Jane Eyre for a research paper she was writing for her English Literature course.

After a short dinner with his mother at The Big House, Leighton Fig returned to the terrace table where he and his dad debated “Jabberwocky.” He’d left his journal on the table and wanted to record the day’s odd events.

When he reached the table, the night sky invaded his imagination—a cloudless, starry night. The stars blazed like a billion torches burning away the darkness. He sat down, looked at the stars, and thought about The Jabberwock. Then, about Jupiter. Then, about—

“Wait,” he said aloud to himself. “The stars! I never saw them.”

Leighton grabbed his journal and returned with his mom to their house, just down the lane from The Big House. He kissed his mother goodnight and went to his bedroom. He grabbed the old walkie-talkie that he and June had kept since they were kids to chat late at night about schoolwork, their homeschool co-op, or anything.

“June. Come in. Over?”

Blip-blip.

“June. Come in. Hey, are you there?”

Blip-blip.

“June—”

“Okay, okay, I’m here. Relax,” said June, laughing.

“June, grab your headlamp and meet me at the river studio.”

“What? Why?”

“I’ll tell ya when I see ya.”

Blip-blip.

“Okay, but this better be good, Leighton Fig. I’m at the end of Jane Eyre and almost done with my paper.”

“Your paper can wait. Plus, you have Jane Eyre memorized.”

“If only I could—can you imagine, Leighton?”

Blip-blip.

“One day, you will. Okay, bring the walkie and keep it on, just in case. Over and out.”

Blip-blip.

The studio was dark. The stars shone overhead like floating lanterns, blazing and close. That’s how stars look when light doesn’t pollute the night sky. And on this night, a New Moon, when the moon is absent from the sky because it’s finished its monthly lunar journey, the stars shone with extra brilliance that dazzled and shimmered off the river.

Leighton crouched near one of the willows by the water. Suddenly, something broke through the dangly branches. It was June, whispering and laughing.

“Leighton, you’re crazy. Why are you under the willow?”

“How did you see me? Where’s your headlamp?”

“I didn’t want to use it. The stars! They’re so bright tonight!”

“Shh. June, keep your voice down.”

“You’re acting funny. And, headlamps are meant to be worn on your head, not stuffed in your pocket.”

“How did you know my—”

“Because your headlamp is in night-light mode and hanging out of your back pocket.” June laughed but whispered, “Oh, sorry, I’ll keep it down. What’s going on? Why are we out here, and what’s with the ‘cloak and dagger’ stuff?”

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Leighton craned his neck and saw the red light hanging from his back pocket. “Unbelievable,” he muttered to himself as he grabbed it and turned it off.

Leighton then told June how he remembered that he had never inspected the hangings on the west wall of the studio. He told her how he remembered because of how bright the stars were as he gazed at them from the terrace. He wanted to be sure, and besides, the constellation hanging was his favorite. The extra caution was due to the day’s events, the messed up door jam, and the general sense of weirdness that accompanied their conversation with their parents.

“Oh, you felt it too, then, huh?”

“It was impossible not to.”

June consented to their plan and followed Leighton to the front of the studio. The door was shut but unlocked. June grabbed Leighton’s hand as they stepped inside.

“Okay, this is a little intense,” June said, squinting into the dark studio. I hope you don’t mind me squeezing your hand until it falls off.”

“It’s fine.”

Leighton led them to the west wall, pulled his headlamp from his back pocket, and put it on his head. He held the button until the red night light illuminated the west wall. The compass rose constellation wall-hanging was gone.

June squeezed Leighton’s hand hard and gasped.

“Oh my word, Leighton,” June whispered in disbelief. “What do we do?”

Before Leighton could utter a word, June gasped again.

“Leighton, down the lane! Look!”

A tall black Mercedes Sprinter van drove down the studio lane with its headlights turned off. Leighton turned and looked at June, his red headlight lamp glaring red in her eyes. But June didn’t flinch at the light. She looked dead into Leighton’s eyes.

“Follow me,” he said without hesitation.

In a dash, Leighton pulled June along with him to the back of the studio to the canvas closet. He opened it and spilled into the darkness with June and hid behind the large collection of canvases.

“They’re probably not looking for anyone,” said Leighton in a hushed tone, “so they have no reason to suspect anyone would be in here. Just stay low and keep quiet. And listen.”

June nodded in agreement. The cousins crouched low in the canvas closet and listened as the door opened. They heard three voices. Two men and a woman. They listened as someone walked the stairs to the loft.

“It’s not here,” said a low, raspy voice.

“It’s fine. I’m sure he has it. Or he’s getting it. Let’s head to the rendezvous.” It was the woman’s voice.

Leighton and June waited for the three intruders to exit. They heard the door slam and then pop open.

“Idiots,” whispered Leighton. “It’s broken.”

Leighton and June emerged from the closet and watched the van roll past the studio, down the lane along the river, and over the ridge.

The two teenagers, shaken with fear, discussed what to do.

“Leighton, where are they going? Is there an exit beyond the north ridge?”

“No,” said Leighton, “There’s nothing back there but a canyon.”

June paced frantically in front of the studio fireplace. The fun was gone from the moment, and the once adventurous night had turned grave.

“Wait,” said Leighton, as if interrupting his own thoughts. “That’s not true. There is something back there, but it’s an old ruin. At least, that’s what I remember. I’m unsure if I actually saw it or if my imagination is playing tricks on me because I heard Dad talk about it. But I think an old chapel sits on the very edge of our ranch property. We can take the ridge trail, but then after that, it’s bushwhacking into rough terrain. I don’t even know where the lane ends.”

“Leighton,” June said, her voice trembling and loud. What do we do? We follow them, right? Or we can go back to The Big House and get help. I don’t know what to do.”

Leighton, seeing his cousin was upset, tried to calm her. He walked to her, reached for her hand, and stopped her pacing.

“June, it’s okay. We can figure this out. Let’s think. What would Jane Eyre do?”

“She’d. She’d. If I’m honest, she’d probably have confronted the intruders when they entered.” June laughed nervously as she said it. “Thank you, Leighton. I understand. Yes, let’s get our wits. Let’s think. I’m sorry—I’m just scared.”

“So am I, June. Wait right here.”

Leighton left June, turned his headlamp on, and walked to the back of the studio. June heard a door open, then close, and then the red light of Leighton’s headlamp returned. Leighton was tucking something into the right side of his pants.

“Leighton, what are you doing? What is that?”

“Insurance,” said Leighton.

“Leighton Thomas Fig, that better not be what I think it is.”

“June, it’s fine. Dad and I go out to the range all the time. I’m just not legal yet. But I know how to use it. And, look, it’s just for protection. I promise.”

“Okay—okay. But please be careful. Leighton, what is all this? I don’t understand. Who even knows about our family’s ranch, to say nothing about the existence of your dad’s studio.”

“I don’t know. But I say we find out together.”

The cousins exited the studio and found the path to the west of the northbound lane. They followed the path, which mirrored the direction of the lane but was two hundred yards to the west. They walked for fifteen minutes until the path ended in a clearing of tall pines. They walked to the edge of the clearing and looked across an open expanse of meadow that sloped down into a low, wide, and wooded valley.

“Leighton, is this the right thing to do? I’ve never been this far from The Big House or your Uncle Gibb’s studio.”

“I can’t be sure. The only time I was back here was when I was too young to remember specifics. It feels further now than I remember. But I was with my dad then, and I don’t remember walking this far, so he probably took one of the old Jeeps back here. I don’t know. I just don’t know. But I think we can keep the road in view if we stick to the woods. We won’t get lost. And we have the walkie-talkies if we get separated.”

“Separated? What if we get taken? Or worse? I don’t have a cell phone. Do you?”

“No. But phones are no good back here. My Dad only has service at the studio because he’s connected to a satellite.”

“Leighton, listen to how crazy that sounds considering our current situation. A satellite?”

“Okay, yeah. That sounds—weird. I guess I’ve never thought about it like that. Just trust me. We’ll be okay.”

June grabbed Leighton’s hand again, and the two jogged down the long valley meadow into the dark pine forest. They kept to the west of the lane, which they could barely make out because it was the only clearing in the wood. They were upon the chapel quicker than they expected.

“Shh—over here. Come on.”

The black Sprinter was parked outside the chapel, which glowed golden in the forest gloom, illuminating the clearing. Leighton led June around the perimeter of the wide chapel to the back. They inched up to where the rear chapel door used to be, within earshot of the conversation inside. Leighton and June crouched on the ground at the rear opening and listened.

“Well, you certainly made a mess out of that, didn’t you.” The voice sounded new. It wasn’t the raspy voice from the studio or the woman’s voice. It was confident but strangely muffled. By the sounds of the conversation, it was the van’s rendezvous person.

“Look,” came the raspy voice, “we don’t have time to be ‘clean’ about this. It’s gonna get messy. This is straight from the top, so it needs to happen ASAP.”

“Clean? Don’t get cute with me. I have more at stake here than you understand.”

“We understand; we just don’t care.” It was the woman’s voice—unfeeling and cold.

“Look,” came another new voice. “All we’re saying here is that the pieces to this map puzzle are in play, and we must move quickly. We’re not trying to make a mess of things, but we have no choice.” The voice was even and calm and, by the sounds of it, was the silent third person back at the studio.

“Enough of this,” came the muffled voice. “I get it. We need to act. Just let me know when I need to pull the trigger, and I’ll set things into motion.”

Leighton looked at June, who was looking intently at the ground, listening.

“Psst—June.”

June looked up wide-eyed.

“Don’t you dare,” she whispered.

“I gotta get closer to see who these people are. I have to tell my dad,” whispered Leighton.

“Your dad will want you as far away from this chapel as possible. This isn’t a joke, Leighton.”

But June’s words fell into the night. Leighton crawled into the back of the chapel and inched towards a split in the decayed wall where the golden glow from the lantern light made a triangle on the dark wood floor. He inched towards the light with his chest and cheek on the floor, hoping to get a better view of the strange gathering.

Slowly, Leighton moved his left eye into the glow. He saw four people, one sitting on the platform steps facing towards the chapel entrance, shrouded but big. Judging by the voice and stature, it was a man. He wasn’t one of the van members. The woman was also shrouded with a cap and a dark jacket with the collar popped. She was midsized and stood rigid, almost at attention.

Another figure stood in front of the seated person. The vantage point skewed Leighton’s view entirely, except for the top of his head. He wore a grey scally cap. But that’s all Leighton could see.

The fourth was a man. The raspy voice. He was a giant man who paced around the stage, unaware of his surroundings. He looked nervous and agitated; his eyes darted everywhere.

Leighton crawled back to June, who helped him down to the ground. The cousins whispered in the shadows.

“Leighton, we must go. Now.”

“I know. You’re right.”

“What did you see?”

“Four people. The ones from the studio and one more—a man, but his head was covered. Something’s happening. One guy, wearing a Boston Scally cap, said, ‘… the pieces to this map puzzle are in play.’ We gotta tell my parents.”

“How do we get out of here without being seen,” said June, exasperated.

Leighton looked at June. His eyes looked at hers, then fell to the ground. He sighed.

“I don’t know, June. I don’t know what’s behind the chapel. And if we head out through the woods, there’s a good chance they see us because the landscape narrows towards Dad’s studio.”

“Where does the river go, Leighton?”

“It goes straight north, into the canyon.”

“Can we make it to the river and hide?”

Leighton grabbed June’s hand.

“Let’s go.”

Leighton stepped on something as the cousins turned into the darkness and ran across the clearing toward the northern wood. It crunched and shattered and made a terrible noise. June stopped as Leighton flung his head back in pain and dropped to the ground. June looked down and saw his foot had broken through the glass of an old window frame. The broken glass dug into his calf. The jeans on his lower left leg grew dark with blood.

“Shh, shh, shh—Leighton. Oh, God, please help us. Leighton!”

Leighton writhed on the ground, trying to keep from screaming. But it was too late. The sound of the broken glass alerted the gathering in the chapel.

In seconds, the giant man with the raspy voice ran out of the chapel’s back entrance, pointed a handgun into the night, and shouted, “Hey! Stop!”

Then he fired.

The shrouded man emerged in the back entrance, pulled the giant man’s arms down, and punched him square in the face, sending him crashing to the grass below the chapel ruin.

“You idiot,” he said, squinting into the darkness, trying to make out who was running into the woods.

The woman and the man with the calm voice joined the shrouded man on the decking of the chapel. But June had pulled Leighton into the shadows of the wood. Tears streamed down her face as she helped Leighton run—his arm slung over her shoulders, his lower left leg soaked in blood.

“Please, Leighton. Don’t die. Stay with me. Help me. Run with me. Where’s the river?”

“Just—agh—keep going. Straight. Agh! I’m not going to die. It’s just a cut. The woods end at the … canyon. The river runs—agh!—through the canyon.”

June kept looking over her shoulder. She saw the golden glow that had filled the chapel now in the woods, closing behind them.

“It’s not going to work, Leighton. They’re going to catch us!”

Leighton tightened his grip on June’s shoulder and pulled himself upright. He grabbed June’s right hand and said, “June … remember Jane. For days—agh—she was on the moor. Alone. Until St. John (Sinjin) found her.”

June clung to Leighton’s hand and, with her other hand, wiped the tears from her eyes. The cousins ran with all their strength from the golden glow and found the forest edge. The canyon spread out before them, black and full of river sounds. But there was no path down—just a ledge.

“Leighton, the canyon. There’s no path.”

“We’ll have to jump.”

“What? We’ll die!”

“We won’t.”

“How do you know?”

“Dad always talks about the deep river waters—that’s why the ranch endures.”

Leighton grabbed his leg in pain. Then he stood up, took his headlamp from his back pocket, and turned on the white light. It shone brightly into the canyon.

“Look, there! No white water. It’s calm and deep. We’ll make it.”

“I can’t, Leighton. I can’t.”

Leighton grabbed a large rock near the ledge and threw it into the river.

“Listen.”

The rock hit the water with a deep kerplunk.

“All I hear is the river echoing in the canyon.”

“That’s further up … it’s okay. We have no choice. Look—it’s wide and deep here. It’s not as far as it looks.”

“Leighton, I can’t.”

Leighton looked back into the woods. The golden glow was closing on them. He turned, looked at June, grabbed her around the waist, and threw himself and June over the edge.

Tune in next week to discover the fate of Leighton and June in Chapter 3.

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