Phantom Keys: The Story Begins Read online


Phantom Keys:

  The Story Begins

  By: Vernon Scott

  Published by Omicron Book Organization

  Copyright 2010 Vernon Scott

  Chapter 1

  Welcoming of Giovanni

  Hello world, my name is Giovanni Stephens. I am a musician and instrument salesmen. I have a twin sister and her name is Gwendolyn Stephens. She has always been a bother while growing up but I still love her.

  I have an amazing family tree. Mostly everyone in my family was a thief. I believe it all started in 1557 with my ancestor Phelphian “Le Grand Voleur”, which means Phelphian “The Great Thief”. He was known for looting much of the royal family’s treasures in 1575. He was later brought to the scaffolds about five years later. Ever since his death, there have been many people in my family following in his footsteps. Many have been caught, and a few actually got away. But now were in the 21st century so I believe I can surpass all of those before me.

  My father tried to continue the tradition but he was arrested on the day I was born. I have no clue to how they caught him. It has always been a tradition to leave a signature behind to let the police know that it was no amateur thief.

  My grandfather was a potter and he always left a bird sculpture at the scene of the crime. Following the tradition, my father, Roberto Stephens, was an artist and he mostly looted paintings. His signature marking was a red rose painting located in the spot where the painting originally was.

  …

  I will be turning 21 next Friday which is October 20th. That will be the day that marks my day of continuing in the family business. I’ve been training really hard trying not to end up in the same predicament as my father. I told my sister, Gwen, not to attempt it because I don’t want her to get into any trouble with the law, yet she dismisses it.

  We were always the top students of our classes but that wasn’t exciting enough for either of us. That might explain why we didn’t pursue high paying jobs. While I’m writing music, she is selling flowers. The good thing that came out of our job choices is that it wasn’t that hard making a business franchise.

  My music store is called Gi-Gi’s Light Players. I even branched off by creating jazz clubs and a great number of coffee shops/bookstores. You might be wondering, “If this guy makes so much money, why steal?” Well the answer to that question is, for the excitement. Many people want excitement in their lives but can never find it. It’s both a good thing and a bad thing. It’s hard to think of stealing in a good way. But whenever someone steals from a museum it will bring the media and people will want to visit it to see how a person could do it or just to visit the crime scene.

  So far the hardest thing about stealing was coming up with an alias and something to symbolize you. I could always leave some type of instrument, but what kind. I couldn’t leave a big instrument because it’ll kind of be too hard to hide. And then it hit me, “What if I left a piece of an instrument,” I thought to myself “but which instrument?” I looked around my store to find the perfect instrument, and then the door chimed meaning someone has entered.

  “How may I help you sir?” I asked.

  I was wondering do you guys offer piano lessons. My wife just bought a piano from you guys a couple of weeks back for our daughter. And lets just say, she is not a great player,” said the man.

  “I’m sorry sir we don’t offer piano lessons here,” I replied. “But I know someone who does. About three stores down there’s a guy named Alfred who works at the World of Music, he might be able to help you”

  “Thanks for the info,” said the guy as he left for the store.

  Why must people continue to come into my store asking for lessons? I see if it said, “We offer lessons,” on the door but gosh. Does it look like we offer piano lessons? “Wait a second!” I said out loud. “Pianos…Pianos…That’s it!” If that guy ever comes back in here I must thank him. I now have something to symbolize me.

  I searched around my shop to see if it was still there. I couldn’t use any of my new shipment so I had to find the old one. And then I found it in the basement. It was the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. It was my old piano; it had to have been at least two hundred years old. And thankfully there were about five boxes of replacement piano keys.

  But now the only thing I had to do is get a great costume and a great name that fits it. I decided to close early so I can drive home and ransack my closet for former Halloween costumes. It’s kind of ironic that I have so many costumes but I do live down the street from a costume store.

  I had soon arrived home and ran upstairs to my walk-in closet that contained all of my costumes. I didn’t see anything that influenced me. I was soon drawing a blank on the perfect costume that suited me. So I decided to go relax on my bed and maybe something will come to me…something useful and inspirational.

  As I lay there I began to fall asleep. As I dreamt of nothing but music there was no sign of an idea coming. When I woke up I looked at my bedside clock to see that it was only 8 o’clock. I had only slept for about two and a half hours. I decide to turn on my TV and when I did I heard a duet between a male and a female. As I listened I began to realize what it was that I was hearing. It was a famous opera. Famous indeed, for many kids of this time even knew about its beauty. It was one of my favorite operas. It was “The Phantom of the Opera.” And at that moment all my ideas formulated into one being. For at that point of time I had my costume and my alias.

  Unlike the phantom from “The Phantom of the Opera”, I wouldn’t be a stalker trying to get someone to love me for me. But I would need a mask. But what kind of mask is the question, maybe a ghost-like mask or a black Zoro-like mask? The phantom’s mask covered up one side of his face, the side that represented his faults and his shame. Maybe my mask can be something like that?

  “I got it,” I said out loud. I’m going to get two different masks. One of my masks will cover half my face and the other can cover my entire face. Now I have to get the costume and make some changes to it.

  Seeing that it’s only 8:15, I decided to drive to Fabric city to buy some fabric for my costume. After that I went to Máscara to buy a mask for my costume. And finally I went to C. C.’s, which was my codename for the Costume place. It was actually called Custom Costumes. Once I arrived, I asked Chuck, the manager, if he had the blueprints for the “Phantom of the Opera” costume. After searching for about five minutes he found them and handed them to me.

  Chuck then asked, “Gigi if I may ask, what do you need it for?”

  Being the nice guy that I am, I answered him, “I’m having my annual Halloween party and needed an idea for my costume.”

  “Oh…Why not get one of the ones that are on display,” questioned Chuck.

  “I was going to get one of them if my costume didn’t come out right,” I lied.

  “Oh okay,” said Chuck.

  “Have a nice evening,” I called out to Chuck as I took my leave. I really was going to buy a costume from him later for my Halloween party but I needed him to think that I was going to just stick with the “Phantom of the Opera” idea. My plan was to make my costume and go back at a later time and ask him to make me a different costume because mine looked hideous after I finished.

  It’s a good thing that I know how to sow like a pro or my plan would go straight down the toilet. As I looked at the blueprints to the costume I began to get more and more inspired. Seeing that I had two masks I decided to go back to Fabric City to buy some more fabric for my costume.

  Without taking a break between my sowing I ended up finishing my first costume. It looked magnificent and it almost brought me to tears. B
ut I didn’t cry, I said almost. But after making my first one, I decided to clean out one of my closets and began to rearrange things so I could put my costume in it. That first costume influenced me to make more than two. After I make my first two costumes, I’m going to go back to Fabric City and Máscara and buy enough to make ten different costumes. I will keep the styles of my two signature costumes and just make back-ups just in case.

  Now the only thing I have to do is decide what will be the first thing I’m going to steal. Which museum will be better? Maybe something that is near by. Or I can just search for one on the internet. But first maybe I should take some thing precious to get my name out there. I can always try the brave approach my writing a letter to the police to inform them of my plans. If everything goes well it might not be a very long time until the world hears about the great “Phantom Keys”.

  Chapter 2

  Gwendolyn in Truth

  As you may know, my name is Gwendolyn Stephens, but you can call me Gwen. As you may know already, my brother is Giovanni. He is so over protective of me, as if I can’t take care of myself. I have a black belt in many martial arts, but that must be the consequences of having an older brother.

  My brother can be so naïve at times. To be honest, he doesn’t know much about our family. I suppose he has told you about our ancestry and all. But there is something that he doesn’t know about our former generation.

  There is one secret that he doesn’t know. He doesn’t know why our father went to jail. To be honest, I didn’t know either until I was told by my sources. It was actually quite surprising when I found out. But after a while, I understood why it was done. Here comes a flash back…

  ...

  My brother and I were two years old. My mother and father both loved the art known as pottery. My mother was a professional potter and my father was a policeman. One day my mother thought she should tell my father her biggest secret.

  “Hello babe,” said my father as he entered into the room.

  “Hey Roberto,” she replied. “I was thinking about something very important. It’s hard for me to say because I don’t know how you’ll react.”

  “What is it that you want to tell me, my precious Kimberly?” he responded.

  “See I’ve been holding a secret from you for so long but I don’t know how to tell you. It’s is one of those secrets that can drive a wedge between your heart.”

  “Kim? Please don’t tell be you’ve been cheating on me,” he stated, almost near the point of tears.

  “No honey, it’s not—”

  “Thank goodness,” Roberto said with a sigh.

  “Don’t feel so relieved yet,” said Kim as calmly as possible.

  My father stood there trying to grasp my mother’s words. “But Kim? What can it be? Are you leaving me? Why are you so silent? Is it the kids? Answer me woman!”

  Staring blankly at Roberto a tear fell down her checks. “Why won’t you answer me Kim,” he continued. “You know I love you. I would give the world to you if I must. Did someone close to you die? How can I help you honey? Do you still love me at all? Am I just a waste of your time?” At that point in time he began to tear up.

  “Robby, I still love you,” said Kimberly. “It’s just that after I tell you my darkest secret, you might not look at me the same way. I don’t want to loose you at all. Do you promise that you won’t over react?”

  “Yes. I promise that I will not go ballistic.”

  She began to move slightly farther away from him. “See…throughout my family’s ancestry, most of them were thieves. What I’m trying to tell you is that I’m the mistress of the night that that most of the city know as…,” she then sobbed and stood silent for a moment, “as ‘Alas preciadas del Ángel’”

  In less then five seconds, Roberto ran across the room and grabbed Kim friskily by her arm and threw her to the ground. “How dare you keep this from me!” he yelled. “How are you think that you could just come out of no where and tell me this kind of foolishness? And I loved you! You make me sick to my stomach.” He then approached her semi-lifeless body and pulled her to her feet. “You know what I must do right? I place you under arrest on the account of burglary. Any thing you say or do will…”

  As he read her the riot act, Kim began to think about her life without me and my brother. Roberto began to reach behind his back to get his hand-cuffs when Kimberly began to fight back.

  Being as skilled as she was, she fought him off and hit him on the head with a frying pan. He had instantly passed out from the trauma. And at that moment she devised a plan. She had to protect herself. Kim knew that the man that she had come to love would never love her again. She had to protect her kids from what she has already done and what she is going to do.

  She sent a letter to the police telling them of her next heist. She was to steal the “Grand Jewel of the Persian King”. But this time, the police were going to catch their culprit. Her plan was full-proof. No matter if Roberto was to gain consciousness or not her plan will still be perfect.

  That night, she snuck into the Buckner Museum to attempt to take the jewel. She was successful. She had then made her way to an alley in which she new the cops would soon find. Roberto’s body was sitting on the outer railings of the museum. She tossed a line onto the next roof and jumped and made a scuff mark on the wall with Roberto’s right shoe. She placed Roberto’s body about a foot or two away from the wall. She had then yanked on her pulley and made the roofing fall to the ground. With quickness, some of the building’s roofing came down. The small bits of ruble landed on Roberto’s still body. And after doing all of that she soon made a quick escape.

  ...

  When my mother told me that story I was shocked. After all of those years of lying to us about our father she finally chose to tell me. I blame guilt. But I couldn’t blame her for her actions. I think she did what she did for the safety oh me and Giovanni. But if I were in her shoes, I would have thought about shooting him first. How dare he put his hands on her! But she did say she loved him. He should count himself lucky.

  “Excuse me ma’am. Can you tell me which one of these flowers is tulips?” questioned an old lady.

  “Sure,” I replied. Why must customers always come in here asking questions like that? It’s not like the flowers aren’t labeled. While pointing, I said, “Ma’am these are tulips. The flower that you’re holding in your arms is the white rose.”

  “Oh. Thank you dearly. This plant is so beautiful. It is more beautiful than any rose I’ve ever seen.”

  “Thanks so much. I find them quite amusing as well. I grow them in my personal garden. They’re like a pure soul absent of any sin, and untainted by any outside forces.”

  “Who would have known?” asked the little old lady.

  “What do you mean?” I questioned.

  “Who would have known that a person can be so poetic due to a flower? You are one strange person.” She paused for a moment and continued by saying, “I can see the care that you have for all of these flowers, yet you sit the white rose on a pedestal. Is it your light?”

  “My light? I don’t understand your question, ma’am,” I stated, with a blank expression on my face.

  “I was asking, is the white rose your guide.” Seeing that my blank expression was still placed upon my face, she put things into perspective. “A person’s light is the thing that guides you through the darkness. It represents all of your goodness. It shows the true you. In truth, the white rose is your guardian.”

  “I understand now. I guess it is. Excuse me, may I have your name. You are a very insightful woman.”

  “Sure,” she said as she began to reach into her purse. “My name is Meredith Chambers and here is my card.” After handing me her card she left my flower shop.

  I took a look at the card and it read:

  Meredith Chambers. Owner of Máscara. If you need a mask, come down to
my shop and your life’s journeys will finally begin.

  The card seemed weird to me. It’s as if it was calling out to me. Telling me some unknown truth to myself. What could it be?

  While I was pondering on Mrs. Chambers’ business card, my cell phone began to ring. It was my brother. He sent me a text message telling me that he had left work early today and will take to me tomorrow because he had some type of epiphany. Why must he send me these text messages? Why not call me instead?

  What would have caused him to have an epiphany? I’ll find out tomorrow. He probably thought of a new song or something like that. Or he could have found out when and where our annual Halloween party is going to be. He could have also found a great costume arrangement for us.

  As I sat there wondering about my brother and his epiphany, my new boyfriend walked through the door. He was carrying a box of chocolate. Like my mother, we both share the same interest in our types of men.

  “What can I do for you detective.” I called out to him.

  “Hey Gwen. So what should we do tonight?” he asked.

  “I feel like having some Japanese. What about you?” I questioned knowing what the answer was.

  “Anything you want. Because just having you in my company will feel me up. My stomach is a big as my eyes and the thing in my sight is too much for any man. I love the way you fill me up, both body and soul Gwen,” he said romantically.

  With a giggly smirk on my face I replied, “Marcus, you always no what to say. I’m going to close early so we can leave right now”

  I surely did know how to pick them. He completed me. I’m going to enjoy having him within my grasp. He truly completed me.

  As we left my flower shop, he kissed me on my check. He told me where a great restaurant was located and told me that he’ll be waiting for me. I was to show up around ten, which fit my schedule perfectly. I still had to pay Gigi a little visit.

  As I drove toward Gigi’s house I noticed his car wasn’t in its normal spot which ant he was out. So I continued to drive past his house to Mrs. Chambers’ business to see what she was so important.