Chapter 4 - The Leather Journal
The atmosphere inside the dusty barn grew suffocatingly tight. Maeve stood motionless, processing Jack’s words while the afternoon shadows lengthened across the wooden floorboards. Without a word, she turned away from the vintage Triumph and walked over to a battered wooden workbench cluttered with old tools and oil cans. She picked up a thick, weathered object wrapped in worn brown cowhide.
She turned around, holding the leather-bound notebook with both hands as if it were fragile glass. The cover was scuffed and stained with grease, bearing handwritten notes and intricate, hand-drawn motorcycle designs pressed deeply into the leather. She walked back toward Jack and extended the book toward him.
"Dad would have loved this," Maeve said softly, her voice barely audible over the sound of the wind rattling the barn’s tin roof.
Jack reached out and took the journal. His weathered fingers traced the embossed initials A.V. on the lower corner. He carefully flipped open the cover. The pages were densely filled with meticulous mechanical diagrams, carburetor jet specifications, and handwritten journal entries dating back over two decades.
"He kept every single spec," Jack murmured, turning the pages with profound reverence. "Every adjustment, every custom modification. He engineered a completely new transmission ratio to handle the extra torque."
Bo leaned over Jack’s shoulder, his eyes scanning the neat handwriting. Suddenly, Bo pointed a thick finger at a specific page near the back of the notebook. "Look right there, Jack. Read the date on that bottom entry."
Jack squinted at the page. The entry was dated just three days before Arthur’s passing. The handwriting was shakier than the earlier pages, written in hurried, urgent strokes.
“They found me,” Jack read aloud, his voice dropping to a harsh whisper. “The frame is hidden under the blue canvas. If anything happens to me, give the journal to the man with the silver beard at Iron Eagle.”
May you like
Jack stopped reading. He looked up from the notebook, his eyes locking onto Maeve with sudden, terrifying intensity. The barn door behind them suddenly banged shut in the wind with a deafening crash.
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