1. If I tell you a bit about my life, you may have a better understanding of my motivations. About ten years ago, I lost my wife. May she rest in peace. Bereft, I set my mind to assembling a definitive library of my experience. Avocation became determination, and I focused my energy. Almost to the exclusion of everything else, I concentrated on documenting and preserving my knowledge. Limited health forced me to rush at the end, and there are several areas I need to expand to make my opus complete.
0. In case you’re wondering — there’s nothing in this hotel that anyone besides me would find valuable. Although the documents I’ve assembled are incomplete, I did take the precaution of encrypting the information so only I could understand it. Maybe that will discourage you from doing something inadvisable. Betray my trust at your own risk. After a while, you’ll see the value in taking my bribe. Ask no questions and you’ll be enriched for doing almost nothing. Life hardly ever presents you with such an easy decision.
0. I can imagine what you’re thinking — “Is this a test?” Assuredly, it’s not. Many have tried and failed to discern the true meaning here. But don’t let that stop you from trying. Avarice will betray you. Aim high, but be ready to start at the bottom. Look to your heart when at the depths of despair; you’re looking into my deepest vulnerability, and it’s the Truth.
1. I’d like to offer you some more advice — it may be shocking to you that while on that first step to a higher plane it was in fact the light itself that caused me pain. And that pain contained great power. My resolve told me to climb again until I could make my way back to my feet. Backwards is never the answer, I found. Awake in this new life I feel more alive than ever. And, as my wife would have said, “Only the first King’s Bishop treads without fear.” Live and let live.
1. I hope you’ll take this bribe, and my small bits of information. Any other questions you might have will have to go unanswered. My sincerest apologies for the cryptic nature of this letter. But, take solace in the fact that at first, level heads have patience while their hands part and meet again. A patient man can find his way out of any situation. A hasty man is almost never correct. Let’s consider this your Job.
“Wow,” said Ben, “this whole paragraph in the middle is false?”
“Yup,” said Jack. “All that stuff about his wife and why he built this.”
They read on further and then Ben remembered what Jack had said to him earlier — “Hey, where’s that part about the trap you were telling me.”
“It’s here,” Jack pointed. “He says ‘it may be shocking to you that while on that first step to a higher plane it was in fact the light itself that caused me pain.’ Well I was shocked when I took the first step to the higher level.”
“That’s a little dumb,” said Ben.
“Hey, screw you!” smiled Jack. “If I’m right, then we can test it out easy enough.”
“How’s that?” asked Ben.
“Because he says the light caused the pain,” answered Jack. “I bet that means that if we turn off that switch at the beginning, the door in the ceiling won’t close and we won’t get shocked.”
“True — that’s easy enough to test,” said Stephen.
“Yeah, but there’s more important stuff to figure out,” said Jack. “Like here,” Jack pointed, “when he says that there’s nothing valuable, it’s a lie.”
“Well,” said Ben, “how do we find out for sure?”
“The light thing will confirm it somewhat,” answered Jack. “But we’ll also have to keep watch for anything like a ‘King’s Bishop,’ or his ‘deepest vulnerability.’”
“Bishop like chess?” asked Stephen. “Let’s look that up.” he said as he moved over to Jack’s computer.
“Good idea,” said Jack.
“Hey,” said Ben, pointing at the letter, “why does he capitalize ‘job’ here at the end?”
“I don’t know — but this other sentence has a capital ‘truth’ in it,” said Jack.
“Oh,” said Stephen, “I’ve seen a capital truth before. My mom has a thing on the wall that her mom made, and it says ‘I am the Truth, the only light that must shine in your life because I am your Salvation.’ I memorized it for school one time.”
“What does it mean?” asked Ben.
“I don’t know,” said Stephen. “We just had to memorize a poem and it was really short.”
“That might make sense though,” said Jack. “What if he means look in his vulnerability to see light?”
“That’s just as bad as before though,” said Ben. “It doesn’t exactly make anything clearer.”
“I found something,” said Stephen. “Here’s the white King’s Bishop. He can only move on white squares.”
“Why the white ones?” asked Ben.
“Because white moves first, and he said first,” answered Jack.
“That’s right,” said Stephen.
“So if ‘Only the first King’s Bishop treads without fear,’ then walking on white things must be safe,” said Jack.
“And that’s one of the true sentences?” Stephen asked.
“Yup,” Jack confirmed.
“Great,” said Ben.
“Hey, put something on that list to prop open that hatch. I don’t want to get stuck in that place,” said Stephen.
“Okay. Let’s go tell my mom that we’re going out to the woods,” said Jack.
“Nope. You need to stick around the house this morning,” Jack’s mom said.
“Aw mom!” protested Jack. “But it’s beautiful outside.”
“It’s not going to kill you to stick around for a few hours,” she said. “Your dad is out running errands, but he said you were to stay here until he got a chance to talk to you.”
“When’s he coming back?” asked Jack.
“He’ll be here at noon,” she said.
The boys spent the morning checking clocks and watching out the windows. Minutes before noon, a sheriff’s car pulled up at the curb, but the sheriff didn’t get out of his car. Stephen watched him from the living-room window while Jack and Ben went upstairs to make sure the letter and money were well hidden under Jack’s bed.
When they came back downstairs, the situation outside hadn’t changed.
“He’s just sitting there,” said Stephen. “Looks like he’s writing something.”
Jack’s dad pulled into the driveway at that moment. Instead of heading towards the door, he met the sheriff at the sidewalk. They shook hands and talked for a minute before coming inside.
“Boys?” yelled Jack’s dad as he came in the front door. “Oh, there you are.”
“What’s up, dad?” asked Jack.
“I was talking to the sheriff again this morning, and I want you to talk to him again. You three have a seat,” he pointed to the couch.
“Sure, Dad,” said Jack.
The sheriff sat down in the big chair again. He flipped through his notes for several moments before looking up at the boys. Jack’s dad stood behind him and to the left with his arm’s crossed.
“We had two young men in custody for shooting local pets,” Sheriff Kurtwood said, eyeing each of the boys.
Jack, Ben, and Stephen remained quiet.
“I said ‘had’ because they’re out on bail now,” said the sheriff.