"The Mississippi Mystery" - Part Two

 

Part Two

            A 2-page essay on Mark Twain.

            That was the book report assignment given to Craig by his tutor and best friend, Rania, and he had barely started on it.

            Being cooped up inside the Type-Z TARDIS that had at one time belonged to his other best friend – Thomas (a.k.a. Neas, the Gladiator of Gallifrey) – made it difficult for Craig to focus. He still missed him dearly, though being with Rania and Tyler (the newest addition to their team) somewhat helped.

            At least it did before Rania benched him from their latest adventure.

            Something to do with how 19th century America in the deep south was dangerous for little African-American kids like him.

            Craig could take care of himself; he had proven that time and time again.

            But, still, Rania insisted that he stay in the ship and work on his book report.

            There was plenty of books on Mark Twain from the TARDIS library that he could use for his research. Alas, when Craig tried to start reading one, his attention barely held together before the second paragraph. “ARGH!” He groaned in frustration. “I can’t take it anymore!” He had to get out of the ship and get some fresh air – or as ‘fresh’ as it may have been in the 19th century.

            As it turned out, the only air he could get was in a stuffy cargo hold.

            The black rectangular monolith that was the Type-Z TARDIS was nestled among stacks of luggage trunks and wooden crates. Craig banged his foot against one trunk placed right at the doorstep of the TARDIS. The perception filter that Rania set on the ship was doing its job – whoever put that trunk there didn’t even notice how close it was to the monolith.

            Thankfully, Craig’s shoe softened the blow to his foot.

            His mind was soon distracted from the pain when he heard an unusual noise coming from among the luggage stacks. It drew him out of the TARDIS, climbing over the stacks like the trees back in the creek. Upon reaching the summit of one stack, he got an eyeful of the entire cluttered cargo hold, which looked as massive as the TARDIS console room. From there, he saw it – a woven basket sitting atop one of the crates, something sitting inside of it squirming and making squealing noises.

            His curiosity piquing, Craig trekked over to the basket.

            Once he was near it, he discovered that whatever was in the basket had been swaddled in a red blanket.

            Craig unwrapped the squirming object…and his eyes twinkled adoringly.

            “Hey there,” he gingerly said to his new discovery. “How did you get there?”

            The dining hall was situated at the stern of the Jefferson, offering a majestic rear view of the Mississippi River and the forestation that bordered along it. It was peaceful enough to motivate Rania into drawing another illustration in her diary – the same diary that inspired her published book.

            Tyler sat across from her at the table they shared near the panoramic window that made up fifty percent of the dining hall. He had just ordered their lunch – a Caesar salad for himself and a baked rainbow trout for Rania. He glimpsed at her latest doodle: a young woman in a leather jacket, white shirt, and jeans.

            “Lemme guess – that’s Kristin?” He deduced.

            Rania was so abstracted from her art that she hardly heard his accurate deduction. “How’d you guess?” she asked with a smirk.

            Tyler shrugged. “The amount of care you put into every detail and the sensual strokes – only someone you really loved deserves so much, even in art.” He gazed at the illustration again, despite it being upside-down from his perspective. “She looks very beautiful.”

            “She is,” Rania herself gazed longingly at the drawing.

            Tyler noticed this. “You still miss her?”

            “Every day,” Rania sighed.

            Their lunch had arrived, served by a black waiter who looked happy with his job.

            Before Rania could start on her rainbow trout, she heard a boisterous voice blurt out towards them, “Friends, Romans, countrymen, lend me your ears! I come to toss Caesar, not to braise him!”

            Rania and Tyler both recognized it as a quote from William Shakespeare’s Julius Caesar, albeit butchered by food puns. The man responsible was one of middle age who wore a fancy brown suit with matching gloves. He had the aura of a showman, particularly from the way he stuck out among all the dining passengers, who just briefly took their eyes off their lunches; a few murmured with great interest over him as he approached Rania and Tyler’s table.

            He was accompanied by an enthralling raven-haired, fair-skinned woman in a sapphire dress that corresponded with her eyes.

            Rania smirked in recognition when she noticed her, but she didn’t say a word.

            “You’ll have to excuse, Mr. Barnum,” the sapphire woman spoke with a thick Kentucky accent. “He can’t help makin’ those silly jokes at the expense of someone’s lunch.” She indicated Tyler’s Caesar salad for emphasis.

            “Oh, I get it now,” Tyler gathered with a chuckle. “Clever!”

            Barnum pointed and smiled at Tyler. “Ya see, Scarlett?” he addressed the sapphire woman. “This fella gets it!”

            “Scarlett?” Rania knowingly eyed the sapphire woman.

            Barnum mindfully slapped his right thigh. “Oh, where on earth have my manners gone?! I forgot the introductions.” He cleared his throat and proceeded, “My name is Phineas Taylor Barnum, but you folks may call me ‘P.T.’ for short. And this young blue-eyed beauty with me is Miss Scarlett O’Hara.”

            Rania almost burst with laughter. That’s what she’s going with?!

            “Wait a sec – P.T. Barnum?” Tyler distinguished. “As in ‘Ringling Bros. and Barnum & Bailey Circus’?” Upon asking this question, he felt something kick him underneath their table, right in his shin. “OUCH!” He glanced over at Rania, who gave him that same stern look back in their cabin – the look when he gave away future information.

            Luckily, Barnum took it as a joke. “Barnum and Bailey? If you mean Hachaliah Bailey, then I hardly call myself a co-owner of his illustrious circus. No, I was nothing more than a humble little ticket seller under his guidance. And as far as these ‘Ringling Bros.’ you mentioned, I have no earthly idea who they are.”

            “Sorry, my mistake,” Tyler said, rubbing his aching shin.

            “Mr. Barnum does have his own museum way up in New York City,” O’Hara said.

            “And young Scarlett here is one of my star attractions,” Barnum added.

            “Really?” said the captivated Tyler. Looking to O’Hara, he asked, “Are you a trapeze artist?” She shook her head. “Tightrope?” Again, she shook her head. “Target girl?” Again, she shook her head. “Don’t tell me you’re a bearded lady?!”

            Both O’Hara and Barnum laughed. “Definitely not that,” the former verified.

            “Then what are you?” Tyler inquired.

            Barnum leaned in close to their table and whispered, “She’s the Woman Who Cannot Die!”

            “Ya don’t say,” Rania remarked, though her ‘surprised’ tone sounded put-on to Tyler, as if she was already in on the secret.

            “I would offer you lovely kids a demonstration right now, but it’s not quite the appropriate venue at the moment,” Barnum indicated the surrounding guests. “Don’t wanna scare any potential patrons – not without charging for admission.”

            “Tell me, Mr. Barnum,” Rania said. “What brought a yank like you to the south?”

            Barnum played coy. “Well, young lady, that’s just another one of my secrets that I cannot disclose right now.” He then turned to his beautiful associate (and ‘star attraction’) and said, “Excuse me, my dear, as I freshen up a bit before our luncheon.”

            As soon as Barnum was out of the room, O’Hara pilfered an unoccupied chair from an occupied table – without asking for permission – and sat backwards in it at Rania and Tyler’s table; she even snatched up the glass of ginger ale served with Tyler’s Caesar salad, gulping some of it down. It was rather unladylike conduct that attracted a few revolted gazes.

            “O Captain, My Captain,” Rania casually addressed her.

            O’Hara snickered. “I knew you recognized me in this Antebellum getup.” She took another swig of the ginger ale. “And I recognized you…or this regeneration of you.”

            Tyler watched the women go back-and-forth with each other like two old friends, understandably confused. “Uh, what’s goin’ on here?” he asked.

            “Girl talk, cutie,” O’Hara winked at him. “Try to keep up.”

            “Tyler, this is Captain Jennifer Leeka,” Rania reintroduced the sapphire woman.

            Now Tyler was more confused. “But I thought she was Scarlett O’Hara?!”

            Leeka nearly choked on the ginger ale. “You actually thought that?! Your generation never bothers watchin’ the classics, do they?”

            “Hey, I’ve seen Gone with the Wind,” Tyler clarified. “I just thought you were the real Scarlett O’Hara.”

            “Who just happens to be immortal?” Rania patronized. “C’mon now, Ty.”

            Leeka gently patted him on the shoulder. “It’s O.K., darlin’. Bouncin’ ‘round the multiverse can mess with yer sense of logic.”

            Moving on from the embarrassment, Tyler asked, “So who is Captain Leeka?”

            “An ex-Spartan who is the variant of a man named Captain Jack Harkness,” Rania explained. “She shares a few of his special traits: wit, flirtation, and – most importantly – immortality.”

            “The Woman Who Cannot Die,” Tyler reiterated Barnum’s attraction title. “I’ve noticed you’re still going with the Kentucky accent. Am I to assume that’s your real voice or are you method?”

            “Real voice,” Leeka confirmed. “Yep, I’m a true-and-through southern belle. I visited eras like here in the 19th century with my family.”

            “You come from a family of time travelers?” Tyler reacted with raised eyebrows.

            Leeka nodded proudly. “My daddy’s an ex-Time Agent. He gave me this on my eighth birthday.” She held up her left wrist, showing off a brown leather wrist-strap. It was designed with a flap that covered a small control panel with a few blinking lights. “It’s called a vortex manipulator.”

            “Cool,” Tyler approved, despite not having any idea what the device did.

            “Much as I adore the Antebellum South, I can’t stand all the dang racists and pre-Civil War slavery,” Leeka professed with visible disgust.

            “That’s the primary reason we’re keeping Craig in the TARDIS,” Rania said.

            “Aww! Lil’ Craigy’s here?” Leeka gushed. “I wanna see him.”

            “Don’t worry, you will,” Rania promised. “After we’ve dealt with Carlson Kincaid.”

            Leeka frowned. “You two are here for that moldy slice of Wonder Bread, too, eh?”

            “The Spartans reached out to me to take care of him,” Rania informed. “Something about him being in possession of an unknown alien.”

            “Yeah, I know,” Leeka said. “Me and my team been keepin’ tabs on Spartan comms. I may not be a Spartan no more, but I got my own way of monitorin’ the multiverse – whatever’s necessary to avoid any visitors.”

            “Your team?” Tyler queried.

            “Torchwood,” Leeka elaborated. “Another thing I inherited from bein’ ol’ Jackie-boy’s variant. We operate on present-day Earth, detecting whatever rifts come through in space-time and reality that threaten our very existence…like the one from this era.”

            “This must involve Clemens as well,” Rania suspected.

            “Maybe,” Leeka said. “But I overheard Barnum talkin’ about an ‘auction’ Kincaid is holding tomorrow night, aboard the Jefferson.”

            This information only baffled and intrigued Rania and Tyler more.

            “Rania! Tyler! Come in!” They suddenly heard Craig’s voice through the transparent earpieces they wore.

            Rania discreetly put her index finger to her ear and responded, “Craig? What’s the matter, honey?”

            “Craig’s talkin’ to you?” Leeka beamed. “Tell ‘em Captain Leeka says ‘whaddup’!”

            Rania held up her other index finger to her in a gesture of silence, trying to listen to Craig. “You guys gotta get back to the TARDIS. There was this basket I found in the luggage room and I…”

            “Hold up! You left the TARDIS?!” Rania sounded very displeased.

            “I didn’t walk any more than a few feet from the ship,” Craig spoke in his defense.

            Rania groaned. “We’ll discuss this as soon as we’re there!” As she ended the call, she noticed Leeka giddily clapping.

            Neither Rania nor Tyler planned on returning back inside the TARDIS any time before they completed their mission on the Jefferson. Getting to it, amongst all the luggage stacked around the monolith, was quite the challenge. They, along with Leeka, had to maneuver their way around the stacks like one big maze. Once they finally reached the ship, Tyler moved the trunk blocking the foot of the entryway before Rania used her DNA to open the ship and permit them access.

            “Craig Williams,” Rania used his full name assertively. “Explain to me right this second why you…?”

            She stopped when she, Tyler, and Leeka all spotted Craig’s find.

            Sitting in a woven basket situated on the console room floor was a small African-American baby boy with short curly hair and brown puppy-dog eyes that immediately melted the hearts of Rania, Tyler, and Leeka.

            “Aaaaaaawwwwwwwww!!!!!!” The trio gushed.

            Leeka was the first to rush up to the baby, delicately pinching his tiny hands between her fingers. “Hey, you,” she sweetly greeted. “Ain’t you just the cutest lil’ fella!” The baby seemed to like her a lot, smiling and giggling.

            Looking at Leeka, Craig’s brow furrowed. “Who’re you?”

            Leeka turned to him in surprise. “It’s me, sugah. Captain Leeka.”

            Craig shrugged. “Can’t say I’ve ever met you before. But it’s nice to meet you now, Captain Leeka.”

            Leeka sulked. Duh, Jen…from his perspective, he hasn’t met you yet.

            “Craig, where’d this little baby come from?” Tyler asked.

            “Like I said over the communicator, I found him in the luggage room, all alone,” Craig recalled. “I couldn’t just leave him there. I’m sorry I left the ship.”

            “It’s alright, sweetie,” Rania excused. “You did the right thing.”

            Craig was relieved to not be in trouble. “I wonder where the mother is.”

            “Or the father,” Leeka added, tickling the baby’s belly. “The mysteries sure are pilin’ up. We can’t solve more than one all at once…not unless this lil’ fella maybe connected to Kincaid somehow.”

            “Jennifer’s right – if there is a connection, it’s our job to find it,” Rania concurred. “Alright, gang. Let’s split up and look for clues.”

            Tyler snickered. “How long have you been waiting to say that?”

            “Ever since I met the kid who always said it,” Rania winked.