Jacob Michaels Is Not Jacob Michaels by Chase Connor

Author:Chase Connor [Connor, Chase]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-04-16T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 6

“What the hell are you doing now?” Oma grumbled when she entered the kitchen through the back door.

Glancing over my shoulder at her, I took in the dirty bib overalls, the rubber gardening shoes, the too big gloves, the big sun hat, and the spade in her hand as she stood there. She looked like any grandmother from anywhere across the country getting ready to plant her garden for spring. The fact that I knew she was anything but the innocent old lady planting her garden made the ensemble look ridiculous. Lena was standing at her side, arms crossed over her tiny chest, glaring at me, helped me remember that Oma was not the little old farmer lady she appeared to be.

“I told ya’, sir,” Ernst whispered up from my side, where he had been standing for the last few minutes. “This was a bad idea.”

“It’s okay, Ernst,” I replied and turned away from the cellar door I had been attempting to open.

The door in the kitchen that led down to the cellar was tightly shut, though I couldn’t see anything that kept it sealed so tightly closed. A good lock would have kept me out, but the door didn’t even budge a fraction of a centimeter when I pulled on the knob. Most doors will give at least a little, rattle in the frame, when yanked on forcefully. The cellar door did nothing but stay tightly in place, keeping me from gaining access to the room below.

“Where’s the key?” I turned to Oma, crossing my arms over my chest as I stared her down.

“Why?”

“So I can open the door.” I glowered. “Obviously.”

“Why would you want to do that?” She said. “I done told you to stay out of there. There ain’t nothin’ down there for you.”

“Let me be the judge of that. Where’s the key?”

“You ain’t goin’ down there.”

“It’s either the key…or an ax.” I shrugged. “Maybe I can figure out that fire throwing trick again…but I’m not entirely sure how that works so who knows what I’ll end up doing. Up to you.”

Oma glowered at me.

Lena’s eyes had grown wide, and her arms had dropped to her sides.

Ernst was shifting from foot to foot by my side.

“Ernst.” Oma barked. “How could you let this happen?”

“Ernst isn’t my keeper.” I snapped. “And you leave him alone. He hasn’t done anything wrong.”

I placed a hand gently on the top of Ernst’s head, luckily without memories flashing through my mind. Like the green lasers and the fire, the memories came whenever they felt it was appropriate.

“So, I see he’s your little pet again.” Oma rolled her eyes.

“I’m sorry?”

Oma looked startled for a minute then was back to glowering at Ernst and me.

“Nothin’, ya’ shithead!” She snapped. “There’s no key to the damn cellar and ya’ ain’t goin’ down there. End of discussion.”

“Fine.” I nodded.

Calmly, I motioned for Ernst to move away. He gave me a pleading look but shuffled a few feet away. I gave Oma one last look, then turned around, took a step back, then attempted to put my foot through the door.

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