Out of The Blue

Chapter 6

     Purple under-eyes, chapped lips, dewy face and body. I haven't slept all night, it's already late morning and I'm hungry. The night consisted of me crying and then when that was over, I was trying to sleep but I couldn't. My head feels heavy and my mind is drowsy. There is a distant sound of a car door being slammed three times, footsteps getting louder and louder as the minutes go by. After about five minutes the footsteps suddenly stop. I look up to a man with a long, black coat, and black hat, but this time he had nothing covering his face. 

     I give him a scowling look with my eyes. Along with him, there are two other men wearing the same things and nothing covering their faces. The man right in front of me has dark brown eyes, fair skin with a little tan; black, straight hair with scattered grey hairs; tall and buff and he seems to be in his late 40s or early 50s. The man behind him to the left has blue eyes, brunette, straight hair, average in height and hefty with a small beer gut, and he seems to be in his mid-late 40s. The man to the right has hazel-green eyes, ivory skin, tall and skinny, and seems to be in his 20s.

     I surely have no hope now in getting out of this alive. I've seen their faces. They could belong to some sort of gang or mafia. Even if I was the wrong person, they won't let me go that easily. My heart starts to pump rapidly, adrenaline stampedes through my veins.

     "So?... Where's the money?" asks the man in the middle.

     "I told you that I don't have what you're looking for. Can someone please explain to me what's going on?!" I half yell once again.

     "She seems like she truly doesn't know." whispers the young man on the right to the one in the middle. Is he on my side or something? Whatever it is, he's the only one with a brain here.

     "Ah, wait, I get it. Family secret." the man in the middle says sarcastically, "Oh my god, I can't believe it! They kept it from you so they could have it." I hate his sarcasm.

     "So, apparently, my 6th-great grandfather was an employee of your 6th-great grandfather who was the owner of the Erection and Operation of Ironworks of New York in the 1860s," the man in the middle explains. It makes no sense. What? Get to the point, I think in boredom.

     "But what does that have to do with money in the now?" I asked.

     "Let him finish!" exclaimed the man on the left. This guy needs to calm down.

     The man in the middle proceeds to explain;

     "You see, the thing is that, that grandfather of yours wrote a letter or map – he wasn't specific – that leads to all his fortunes and I have a feeling you know where it is. He also gathered some of his money and hid it along with the letter." If there was a word for shocked and perplexed that means both combined but 4 levels higher, I would say that's how I feel right now. First of all, why would he do that? I still don't understand what it has to do with me. 

     "Why would he do that?" I questioned.

     "Because he was an evil and selfish old man who wanted everything for himself!" He responds in frustration. "So, when my 6th-great grandfather allied with three others to demand what was theirs, he wrote a letter because first dead before he gave them their money."

     "This story was passed on for generations, that's how we know." Adds the man on the left. He seems a bit dumb but who am I to judge.

     "How do you know I'm part of that family line?" I ask in confusion. I'm sure that at this point I've lost 7 of my brain cells.

     "Your 6th-great grandfather's name is Daniél Olmônd Rousseau and your name is Marie Rousseau." Do you know how many Rousseaus there are in the world?  "I traced a lot of people I knew and researched to be from that family line. It led me to a lot of people including you, and I chose you."

     "How are you so sure it's me?"

     "I had a very reliable resource." He says with a smirk, looking to the younger man.

     "This story lived on for years in my family and the other three families, throughout eight generations. I got in contact with them except the Rousseau's, I couldn't get a hold of them. That's why I supposed you also knew about it. Apparently, his descendants are just as selfish. They want it all to themselves, huh? His enemies never stopped looking for that letter. However, no one thought about his family members; surely they know where it is," explained the man in the middle. "You are very valuable to us right now. Nonetheless, I was also left a letter by my grandfather that worked with yours back then and that great grandfather of yours also left one for your father."

     "And how do you know that?" I question, lingering on that last part about my father.

     "Like I said I had a very valuable resource," he smirks. 

     "I don't have it; it must've gotten lost." I say. I still think they have the wrong person.

     "Of course you don't have it. It's hidden. He made sure he told his wife, kids, brothers, and wrote a letter to be passed until it got to your father," the man continues to explain. 

     "He had this cabin where he would go to do... I don't know what he would do in there; to think? He was bizarre. Anyways, my grandparents did search his house but found nothing. They came to the conclusion that it was in his secret cabin which is somewhere in these woods. However, back then these woods were larger and so the cabin was not close to the civilization." 

     I am utterly confused. The questions start circling in. If this is true and it went on for eight generations, did my parents know about this? Why did my 6th-great grandfather do this? What else don't I know? Is this even true? What if they're lying? All I could do is stare at the ground in confusion.

     "I don't know anything." I try to assure.

     The man on the left says out loud "You're lying." I desperately responds with;

     "I promise you I'm not, please let me go!"

     I start to tear up but I'm fighting them back because I don't want to seem weak to them. Crying doesn't make you weak, but these kidnappers don't see it that way. The man on the right tells the one in the middle - who seems to be the one in charge - 

     "Maybe she really doesn't know." Listen to him, he's right!

     "He's too soft, I told you we shouldn't have brought him." says the man on the left so irritated. The leader and the man on the right look so alike. Could they be father and son? It's a big possibility but there's something else about this boy. It's like he's familiar.

     The apparent leader tells the man on the right to keep an eye on me, and with that, the two men left.

     I want to go home.