Chapter 2
The oncoming sea of red-coated guards galloping in one hypnotic motion was more than enough to intimidate anyone. Their elegant ride created a whirlwind of dust along the dirt path. Behind them, the trees stood basking in the glow of the sunny day. After a long ride, they reached their destination of the two-story Victorian house with the red door. The head guard dismounted his horse and focused on the purpose of his visit. With harmful intent, he marched towards the red door, kicked it down, and continued with his rampage followed closely by his entourage of bandits.
“Halt! By order of the Cardinal, you are under arrest for treason. Drop your swords and turn yourself in.” The head guard demanded as he pointed ahead.
“We don’t live by the Cardinal’s rules,” Athos said. He turned to whisper to his comrades.
“What are we going to do? There are fifteen of them and only three of us.”
“Those are my kind of odds.” A moment of silence fell upon them. “Come on brothers. All for one, and one for all!” Porthos said. They came with their swords entangled in the air; and with one deep breathe, they shouted at the top of their lungs and charged the crowd of guards in the foyer. From above, the slight speckle of blue on the eastern side of the room seemed less of a challenge for the enemy. On the western side, the sea of red seemed overbearing, but they preferred not to advance, instead stand their ground. With a quick charging burst from the Musketeers, they met in the middle and the conflict began. The sounds of the fight made beautiful music to the surrounding areas. Clashes of the swords moved fluidly like poetry in motion.
The well-trained red-coated guards had favorable odds, but their training did not teach them how to fight with the Musketeers. They did their best standing their ground, but one by one, the guards fell with extreme pain.
In minutes, the group of fifteen diminished to seven. With the declining numbers, the head guard knew he would be next. As the fight continued, he ran into another room. When he reemerged, a beautiful young blonde maiden stood between him and the fight. Translating body language can be difficult, but holding a person against her wishes was not difficult to understand. Her eyes told the story of terror as they both move from the room. She tried to fight back to release herself from the grips of her capturer, but his strength denied her. Her body trembled as escape was impossible. However, with the sharp dagger to her throat, it was wise not to make any sudden movements.
“Drop your swords or she dies!” Yelled the guard. He brought the dagger closer to her throat showing the Musketeers he was not messing around. The extremely sharp dagger became visual bargaining tool when a small cut appeared.
“Please, help me. I don’t want to die.” Feeling powerless, the beautiful maiden cried for help with tears running down her cheeks. The Musketeers could see the terror in her eyes, the quivering of her lips, and the blood from her neck. The pleaded cries gave the Musketeers no choice but to surrender.
Clang...Clang...Clang.
“Okay you win, as you can see we are unarmed. We have done our part; now let the maiden go,” Aramis said.
“Ha! Do you think it would be that easy?” The head guard’s unsettling laughter puzzled the Musketeers. With a devious glare, he gestured a quick nod. The Musketeers looked at one another with confusion. Suddenly, the old chandelier came down from above as quick as lighting, striking them like an innocent bystander walking in the rain. The Musketeers did not even know they auditioned for the part of the fool.
One of the less wounded guards got to his feet and went unnoticed by the Musketeers. He sneaked his way to the base of the chandelier’s rope anchor hoping for an opportunity to seize the moment and when the moment came, he slashed the rope. Now, the Musketeers stand unarmed and trapped; probably two of the worst circumstances that could happen when dealing with this sinister adversary.
“As I said before you are under arrest,” The head guard said.
The Musketeers trained for years as one cohesive unit. They learned to fight within close quarters, watching one another’s back throughout the fight. The three of them fought as one, and now they stand trapped as one. Standing between the rings of the old chandelier, they felt their life would be over.
“It looks like the end for us,” Athos said.
“I think not!” An unknown voice shouted from above the rafter.
Everyone swiftly looked up.
A silhouetted figure stood above the hand railing on the second floor. In a hero’s pose, the blue cape he had on wave through the air, but the wind was nonexistence. As the clouds dispersed from the outside, the sunlight reached the second floor from across the room, from the decorative glass plane, identifying the silhouetted figure.
“Oh, it’s Traveler Sands,” The maiden said with great joy.
“Curses, I hate that guy,” The head guard said as sparks pop from his mouth.
Traveler grabbed his sword and in one graceful motion, he swung down, kicked the guard in the shoulder, and knocked the dagger out of his hands. The young maiden ran for cover to the nearby table. The head guard jumped to his feet, pulled out his own sword, and prepared for his attack. Traveler paused, quickly winking and smiling to the Musketeers, letting them know that everything was going to be okay. Afterward, Traveler walked up to the head guard, fixed his right glove and then his left. He wiggled his left arm and quickly made three swipes of his sword. Traveler then raised his hand as if he was a magician saying “Tada” after a successful magic trick.
“Ha, you missed. There’s not a scratch on me,” The head guard said.
“You really think so,” Traveler said as he polished his sword with the side of his sleeve.
The head guard looked around with confusion and then looked down at himself. Without realizing it, he was disarmed and the buttons were cut off revealing his hairy chest. The head guard turned a glowing red.
“Someday Traveler, I’ll get you!” The head guard said waddling out the door. The other guards left the building kicking up a dust trail as Traveler’s swordsmanship convinced them that they did not have a chance. Then, Traveler turned his attention towards the trapped Musketeers. He bent down and easily lifted the chandelier.
“Thanks Traveler for saving us,” They all said while shaking his hand.
“Aw, it was nothing guys. It’s all part of the job,” Traveler said.
The young maiden peeked out hoping the danger had faded away and then without hesitation, she ran towards Traveler. She kissed him all over his face, as a show of gratitude. The different shades of red of her lipstick hid his natural embarrassment. As they held each other, the Musketeers turned and walked away giving him some privacy after a job well done. Finally, alone, Traveler held the beautiful maiden tightly in his arms, as a frame would hold up a striking painting.
“Oh, Traveler thanks for saving me from the clutches of evil,” She said as she paused from the long embrace. “Oh, by the way do you know where my car keys are?”
Huh, there were no cars in the 1600’s. Traveler thought.
“Come on, where are the car keys Traveler? Traveler...we are going to be late...Traveler...!” The maiden voice faded away.
Traveler Sands jolted from his daydream, an obsession he has done quite often when he has time to himself. He stared at the upside down title that rested on his chest, The Three Musketeers, a fabulous book about teamwork and loyalty. He closed his eyes again trying to return to that positive state of mind, which he loved so much, but his attempts were futile. He blinked a couple of times trying to get a focus on his surroundings, but instead he realized he was sadly entering the realm of reality.
Traveler hated seeing the living truth in front of the mirror every morning. He could not stand that he did not excel in anything else his family excelled in. Therefore, he turned to the items that made him happy, which happens to be the comfort of his books.
At that age to even today, he loved to read. “Frameworks of the 1950’s Automobile,” “The War Hidden behind the General’s Eyes,” and “The Science of Basket Weaving” were some titles he would randomly pick up at the library because he wanted to challenge himself. However, his favorite books would have to be the classics tales, as written by great authors such as Charles Dickson, Alexander Dumas, and J.D. Salinger. It allowed him to escape the harshness of the real world and transport his mind to a familiar safe haven. Though the places were in his imagination, the important point was that they were under his control. However, more importantly, Traveler developed an uncanny ability of speed-reading from an early age. He would be able to go through a book and retain the knowledge within a few minutes. His parents never knew how this came about because none of them liked to read.
Traveler could not recognize it before, but his mother stood above him giving him a weird “answer me” look. She kept nudging him and asking for the whereabouts of the car keys. Traveler never purposely tried to be unruly. He tried to be helpful and courteous whenever he could; however, he gave a typical teenage shrug and answer, which appeared rude.
“I don’t know Mom,” Traveler said.
Frustrated, she walked away giving her typical mother wave, signaling how useless teenagers can be. At the time, he did not know it, but this was the moment where it all began.
The Present 3015, AT
“Wait, wait, I don’t get it,” A child said with his hand way up in the air.
“Umm, sorry child, can you say that again?” The storyteller said.
The crackling fire made it difficult to hear anything other than the sound of his voice.
“I said I don’t get it. You need to tell the story right,” The child answered.
“You don’t get what my child?” The storyteller said.
“He doesn’t look like the Luminati Savior.” The rest of the children nod in agreement. “Yeah I thought he’d be bigger,” Another child said.
The storyteller slowly stares at each one of them and watches their eagerness for answers. Then, he stares off into the night’s horizon. He feels the balmy night press against his cheek; he hears the slight rustling of the tree, and feels the warmth of the campfire. Then he raises his staff and increasing the intensity of the fire. The children flinch back surprised with his actions.
“Storytelling can be the most challenging thing people do,” The storyteller said. “They have to choose their word carefully and project them at the right moment. One misplaced word or sentence can change the mood dramatically, sometimes unknowingly altering the integrity of the story. Once that happens the moment is lost forever. However, my father once told me that one of the greatest tools a storyteller can have is a powerful character or a hero that can transcend the course of time. Well, this is my powerful character, before the Luminati Revolution. I knew him even before that time. I know him now when I am telling this story, but nobody knew the things he had accomplished.”
“I still don’t get it,” A child interrupted.
“Patience my young ones, this is just the beginning. Please let me continue. You would not know it just by looking at him, but this young man is the savior. You just have to just look pass his scrawny arms, skinny chicken legs, and flimsy body. Just trust me when I say, this young man is special,” The storyteller said.
There was a puzzling look amongst the children sitting in the crowd.
“You don’t believe me; I don’t blame you. Just listen and watch. I will make a believer out of you yet. In the 232 years of my life, I have never seen anybody as amazing as him. This is going to be an amazing journey of Traveler Sands,” The storyteller said.
“Okay,” The children said in unison.
“So, where was I? Ah yes, right here.”
The Past 2008, AD
Traveler was part of a typical family with everyday problems, but this summer was not a typical summer for him. He did not know it yet, but this summer would be his first step of his long adventures.
Traveler was not tall or athletic like the rest of his family. Let’s just go down the family tree. Traveler’s father was an active military member that lettered in high school football, basketball, and soccer. Traveler’s mother was a track and field star that broke most of the high school records in long distance running and short track sprints. And we all know about the superstar status of Traveler’s brother; if you don’t I will explain later. With a list like that, who can compete? But Traveler tried his best to fit in. There was a time when the entire family tried to teach him the game of soccer. They thought how hard could that be, all he had to do was kick the ball and run. They still do not know how it happened, but that day, somehow he managed to kick his own leg, swept himself to the ground, and dislocated his shoulder-- just unlucky I guess. They spent the rest of the day teaching him how to play wastebasket ball in the emergency room.
Traveler did try his best at every attempt, but just could not keep up with his family. He was certain there must have been a mix up at the hospital. Another theory he developed was that in some far-fetched way, a bunch of ostriches must have raised his ancestors. It just skipped a generation here and there. (I know it sounds silly, but that’s how Traveler’s imagination works sometimes) He did not want to believe it, but every conversation was a huge feat in itself, he had to extend his neck and lift his chin a little farther up than his normal range. This often led to mild situations of muscles strain. Needless to say, he tried to avoid long conversations.
Even though Traveler’s conversations with them were at times brief, they were able to notice his short, dark red hair that just grew long enough to cover the tops of his ears and bits of his eyebrows, which gave them a perfect view of his beautiful brown eyes. Countless times, people have told him he bears a great resemblance to his beautiful mother, Mary Sands.
June 20, 2008, was the first day of summer or some might say Summer Solstice. Many schoolchildren lose focus counting the days left of school and dreaming about their summer adventures, but not Traveler. He loved being in school. For one, it was the one place Jake could not torment him and two, he felt a sense of accomplishment there. This year the principal and his teachers decided to let him skip a grade. He begged the school not to tell his parents. He convinced them the news would sound better coming from him, and he fought with himself day in and day out, on whether his parents needed to know. There was only one force that stopped him from furthering his higher education, and that was--Jake.
Jake was the big man on campus at his high school. How big? Well, if the President of the United States happened to drop by his high school, the secret service agents would quit their assignment immediately and join Jake’s security team. He was the star athlete, and everybody worshipped him. To give you an example of his star status, he had his own parking spot, napping privileges, and his own nutritional coach, in other words a personal chef.
Next year, Jake would enter his senior year. College scouts would be coming from everywhere to sign the next big thing that happened to college football. Some sportswriters have wrote that he was “pound for pound the finest specimen of a pure athlete” Traveler knew that Jake could not afford any distractions and his little brother joining him in high school would definitely be one. Nevertheless, that was the least of his worries. Traveler had other ideas on his mind. He was beginning to realize that his life was not the typical family life. It all started with a trip to see his grandfather.
On the way there, Traveler’s family did their best to pass the time. Traveler’s father was limited to the amount of activities he could do, but he had his own special way of passing the time. He would often listen to classic rock stations at a higher decibel level than his normal vocal range, and when a great song came on, he would tap furiously on the steering wheel. His rhythmic beatings were never in beat with the music, but he did not care.
Mary never liked the radio stations he had on, so she would pull out her iPod shuffle that was loaded with classical music. She tried to swoosh her hands with the beat of the music, acting as if she was in control of every note the orchestra played. She could have done this for hours, and sometimes she had too.
Jake did his best to pass the time as well, but at Traveler’s expense. Jake and Traveler never got along. Like oil and water, the two did not mix well. Jake hated Traveler from the moment he came into the world and tormented him as much as he could. You see, Jake was a spotlight hog and loved being the center of attention. Even at the somewhat mature age of seventeen, Jake still makes every effort to torture Traveler.
His parents never knew what was going on. For all they knew, they had two little angels in the backseat. Mary pulled out her ears buds and said,
“Honey, it has been a long time since you have seen your Dad.”
“And if we have left at 0700 hours like I wanted to, we could have been there sooner and now, we’re stuck in traffic,” Traveler’s father said while tightening his grip on the wheel. He could not find a song on the radio that he liked for quite awhile.
“Honey, don’t snap at me. I didn’t put all these cars on the road,” Mary said.
Suddenly AC/DC “Thunderstruck” came on and his mood lightens up. “I’m sorry Babe. You’re right, I haven’t seen him in awhile. I get a little guilty when I don’t.” He paused. “I love this part.” He needed to slam his imaginary crash cymbal. “You know, I try to be the best son I can, but there is only so much I can do,” Eric said while mouthing out the words to the end of the song.
Traveler’s father was Major Eric Sands, a United State Air Force officer. Serving his country was, at times, challenging. Being stationed all over the world, deployed to unknown areas, and exposed to stressful work environments could sometimes take a toll. However, the benefits can outweigh the negatives. The best part of his job, the part he loved the most, was the vacation time. The man loved to travel. His travels led him to the best seats in the house. Viewing the aesthetic historic buildings and beautiful landscaping through his eyes was better than any high definition television set. One of the most memorable viewing pleasures he had was in Germany. This was where he met Mary.
After five hours of driving and being stuck in traffic, they finally reached San Diego. Once the car stopped, everyone except Major Sands tried leaving their seats. They clawed at the door handle trying to escape their confined spaces, but the door did not open. They kept pulling and pulling, but it still did not open. Major Sands finally unlocked the doors using the driver’s side master button. They all got out and took a minute to sigh with relief, stretched their arms, shook their legs, and then headed over to the building. The sign at the front of the building said THE SAN DIEGO BEHAVIORAL HEALTH CENTER. There were plenty of pine trees, green grass, and flower gardens all over the property. This place even had a flagpole in the front, like the picture on the front of their brochure. The place looked as normal as a 1950’s white picket house on the outside, but normal was not the word used for the people that were admitted.
They reached the front desk counter.
“How can I help you?” The snide nurse said.
It was obvious the nurse behind the desk did not like her job.
“We’re here to see Jacob Sands,” Mary said.
“Fine, fill this out,” The nurse said. “I need you to fill out sections one, two, four, five, and sign your name at the bottom. When you’re done, give it back to me. Got it?”
“Umm, I think so,” Mary said while trying to remember the sections.
Mary took a seat. She stared confusingly at the form and shared her frustration with the family. However, when the completed forms returned to the nurse, her mood lighten just a little.
“Someone will be with you in a minute. Go back to your seat, please. And have a nice day,” The nurse said.
After five minutes, some orderlies came and escorted them to another room. They were big burly men wearing light orange scrubs. Traveler was convinced that they were former entertainment wrestlers trying to find a new career path. The orderlies patted them down for weapons and told them to wait in the next room. From entering the room, they could tell that it was very cold. It was not cold as in the temperature, but cold as in depressing and gloomy. They looked around and saw a rainbow of colors in a dark drab background as if a painter attempted to start their masterpiece on a dull blank canvas, but did not finish because of internal creative struggles.
Once inside, it was not that hard to distinguish which were the friends and families, and the patients. Different from the orderly’s uniforms, the patients wore light blue pajamas with numbers printed on the upper front right side of their pajama top. Some of the friends and families talked to their patients by the tables while others talked in the corners of the room. Traveler’s family managed to find a vacant brown couch.
As Traveler’s family waited, they did not know what to expect; they did not know who would be coming out of those double doors. They had not seen Jacob in months and as they sat and hoped for the best, the doors opened. He stood at the door deceptively looking as if he opened it unassisted; the family stood up and waited to greet him with positive open arms. However, when they saw a tiny part of the orderly’s light orange scrubs, the flicker of hope was knocked out like a sucker punch in the gut. Their disappointment burst through their eyes.
Grandpa Sands stared ahead in his catatonic state while being escorted across the room because he could not walk on his own. Judging by the way he gingerly moved towards the couch, it looked more like a shuffle rather than a walk, as if a wounded animal would move trying to keep up with the herd.
For years, Traveler heard phone calls between his Dad and Grandpa’s doctors. It was always the same message. “He’s not responding to the treatment, the doctors think he has brain damage. It has been ten years. It’s time to let him go.” Major Sands would get into constant arguments over the phone.
Traveler was only three years old when his grandpa first went into a catatonic state. Major Sands was on a deployment to the Middle East when Grandpa Sands got sick. This was a big shock to everyone because Grandpa Sands was an active person. At the age of 50, he could have run circles around anybody half his age and sometimes he did. Mary Sands had to take care of the hospital bills and the transfer to San Diego. It was the least she could do for him since he was always a big part of their lives. Grandpa Sands helped Traveler’s parents with everything from baby-sitting to lending them money for a down payment on a new home. He was always around the kids when they were growing up. He has been a good man.
Once Grandpa Sands sat down, Mary quickly wrapped herself around his arm. She remembered the doctors telling her that he has no brain wave activity and it was a miracle that he has been alive this long. She did not care. With each visit, she gave him a big melodramatic hug, acting like a defibulator hoping she could snap him from his cationic state. Major Sands asked the orderly off to the side to inquire about any of his recent activities. The orderly said Grandpa Sands has been doing the same thing for past ten years. He could not feed or bath himself. He just sits in front of the window not moving an inch. Major Sands dropped his head with great sadness; he wished there were more he could do.
One hour went by, Eric and Mary could not make their sentence flow well. As they continued their conversation, they would sometimes pause in midsentence searching for the right word to fill the gap. In their minds, it was as if they were asking for a line from their theater director after a mental block. They realized how exhausted and hungry they were. They told the children to keep talking to Grandpa while they went to get lunch. Jake did not like that at all. He turned to Traveler pounding his fist. Once their parents left, Jake lunged over and gave Traveler several punches in the arm.
WACK! WACK! WACK!
“Ouch! Stop that. Why did you do that for?” Traveler said while rubbing his arm.
Jake mimicked back in a falsetto voice, “Stop that. Why did you do that for?” He continued in his normal voice. “I don’t want to be here and it’s your fault.”
“Please, stop with the negativity. Grandpa can feel that.”
“Why don’t you feel this?” Jake threw another punch. “It hurts doesn’t it?”
“I am going to tell dad about this.”
“Shut up and stop being a wimp! Grandpa is a veggie now. They should have pulled the plug and collected the money years ago.”
“How can you say that? Grandpa is still alive. He probably heard you.”
“So what if he...” Jake drifted off from his sentence because a girl from behind distracted Jake’s attention. When it came to girls, especially cute girls, he always had a knack for finding them even if he could not see them.
“Hey little brother, what do you think about that girl over there?” Jake pointed to the beautiful brunette with the nurse outfit.
“I don’t know anything about girls. I am only thirteen.” It did not matter what Traveler said, in a blink of an eye, Jake had already left his seat and pursued the beautiful brunette. Alone, Traveler continued his conversation.
“Hey Grandpa, did you know that they are going to let me skip a grade. Mom and Dad don’t know yet because I don’t really want to go.” Grandpa Sands stared off in the distance with his catatonic look.
“Grandpa, I just know you can hear me. Someday when you wake up, I’ll be the first one here to greet you back to the world.” Traveler gave him a hug and something mysterious happen. Grandpa Sands’ right arm flinched with just the slightest movement.
With Traveler’s eyes wide open, he quickly released his arms. “Grandpa? Did you hear me?” He looked for Jake, but he was nowhere in sight. Then Traveler shook his arm. “Grandpa, I know you moved a little. I know you’re in there. Please say something.” He pleaded with him, but Grandpa Sands did not say anything. He did not even move another inch. Traveler saw the one glimmer of hope slipping away. Abruptly, Grandpa Sands grabbed his arm. With extreme shock, Traveler looked up at his face.
Grandpa Sands head shook up and down like a jackhammer. His eyes changed color. They were no longer brown; they had turned into a deep fiery red. Traveler looked down and felt his grip getting tighter and painful, which made Traveler want to scream out, but he could not. The grip got tighter and tighter. Grandpa, you’re hurting me. Traveler thought. He tried to loosen his grasp, he looked around hoping for any aiding bystanders, but nobody did. Then, Grandpa Sands took his free hand to grab Traveler’s hair forced his head to stare into Grandpa Sands’ eyes. Grandpa Sands’ fiery red eyes slowly jumped out like a 3D movie and the room began to spin. Limb by limb, Traveler’s body went numbed. The room spun faster until Traveler saw the darkness in his own eyes.
Traveler started to come around. He felt as if he just went twelve rounds with the Heavyweight Champion of the World. He started to get his vision back. All he saw was different shades of color that were blurred. He