Buried In

Time

Fort King, Virginia

Present Day

​     The two young students stood in front of an old cabinet in the rear of a dilapidated house. It had been a long search but this could be the conclusion for them, the pot of gold at the end of their rainbow.
     “Okay, this is supposed to be the right place, the Acre farm and this is the cabinet in the kitchen, right? So, go ahead and open it,” the girl of nineteen said to her companion.
     He looked over at her as he said, “I’m surprised this old place is still here.” He reached out for the cabinet door as he turned to his companion, “What if there’s nothing in here?” he questioned.
     “Roger, we’ve had this discussion before,” the young woman answered. “Be positive… it’s there. Everything we’ve found so far points to something big finally in front of us.”
     The young man nodded and pulled on the door handle which immediately broke off in his hand. “Well, that’s probably not a good sign.” He tried slipping his fingers into the gap between the two doors, but nothing would budge. “Margaret, see if you can find something we can use to pry this open.”
     The young woman looked around, at first seeing nothing that might work, but finally resting her eyes on a piece of metal, probably part of a stove. “Here,” she said, handing it to her young partner, “see if this will do.”
     He slipped the metal in the gap and after a bit of pushing and tugging, one of the doors popped open. The pair stared into the darkness of the interior with the woman, Margaret, finally spying a large package in the rear of the cabinet, and withdrawing the bundle, discovered that it was an oilskin cloth, completely enclosing a large book of some sort.
     “Okay, this is it,” Margaret said as she took the package from Roger and set it on a rickety table. She carefully unwrapped the oilskin, revealing a worn and faded blue binder. The young woman stared at the book as her partner turned the cover back and read an inscription on the first page:

                                   Journal of James Connor Harrison: 1904-  

     The pair had found what Margaret knew would be there; the journal, an almost living history of the person they had been researching. She carefully rewrapped the book and the two students left to return to her car for the trip back to Drakes Glen College.
 

Prologue