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In reply to: A Dog and a Dig – The trenches of the Time Capsule
Table of characters:
Characters Keyword Characteristics Sentiment Clara Woman in her late 40s, VanGogh’s owner Inquisitive, curious VanGogh Clara’s dog Curious Grandpa Bob Clara’s grandfather, widowed, early signs of dementia Skeptical, anxious Nora Clara’s friend, amateur archaeologist, nicknamed Alienor by Clara Adventure-seeking Jane Grandpa Bob’s wife, Clara’s mother, only Bob seem to see her, possibly a hallucination Teasing Julienne / Mr. Willets Neighbors of Clara & Bob – Bubbles (Time-dragglers squad, alternate timeline) Junior drag-queen, reporting to Linda Pol (office manager) adventurous, brave, concerned Will After Nora encountered a man with a white donkey, she awakes in a cottage. Will is introduced later, and drugs Nora unbeknownst to her. Later Bob & Clara come at his doorstep (they know him as the gargoyle statues selling man from the market), looking for her friend. Affable, mysterious, hiding secrets Some connecting threads:
- The discovery of a mysterious pear-shaped box with inscriptions by Clara and her grandfather.
- Clara sending photos of the artifact to Nora (Alienor), an amateur archaeologist.
- Nora’s journey from her place to reach the location where the box was discovered and her encounter with a man with a donkey (Will?).
- Grandpa Bob’s anxious behavior and the confusion over the torn piece of paper with a phone number.
- The parallel timeline of a potential breach in the timelines in Linda Pol’s office.
- The search for VanGogh and the discovery of a map tucked into his collar.
- The suggestion from Jane that Clara should be told something.
- Nora awakes at a cottage and spends time with Will who drugs her soup. Bob & Clara show up later, looking for her.
A background on the excavated mysteries from Twists and One Return From the Time Capsule.
BACKGROUND CONTENT: Focus is on key protagonists:
- Clara (a woman in her late 40s, taking care of her father, living the two of them with her Malinois dog VanGogh),
- her father Bob (a widowed man with early stage dementia, who can see and speak to his dead wife Jane)
- and Nora (nicknamed Alienor, Clara’s friend, a local thrill-seeking artist and amateur archaeologist)
in an story of discovery around a mystery of a box (which is a Time Capsule found by Clara’s dog VanGogh) during a time and place of travel restrictions (and possibly time-travel restrictions).
Tone of story is curious and engrossed with a mystery of the ages, some supernatural grounded in plausibility, looking for connecting dots with the past sometimes long gone, and a present that slips away in our memories.
An encounter with the mysterious Will (possibly Will Tarkin), who seems nice and seductive yet acts unscrupulously and manipulative (seemingly recognising Bob from somewhere), could be the key to a big reveal, and possible links to Jane’s pasts. All while struggling to keep away the nosy neighbour.
The conclusion will bring some realisations about the power of memories, the ties between living and dead, and how things never remain buried for long.In reply to: Twists and One Return From the Time Capsule
VanGogh darted toward the cypress fence and when close enough started to bark.
“Good dog!” said a feminine voice, “You recognised me?” It was Julienne, she was about the same age as Bob and lived in the old vicarage not far from Bob’s house. “I was tending to my raspberry trees and I thought I could bring you some of the offshoots”, she said showing her pink plastic bag. “Hi Clara, I didn’t know you were there,” she added as if she should have.
Clara looked at Bob. Not a word, he said with his lips.
In reply to: Twists and One Return From the Time Capsule
Clara breathed a sigh of relief when she saw VanGogh running towards her; in the moonlight he looked like a pale ghost.
“Where’ve you been eh?” she asked as he nuzzled her excitedly. She crouched down to pat him. “And what’s this?” A piece of paper folded into quarters had been tucked into VanGogh’s collar. Clara stood upright and looked uneasily around the garden; a small wind made the leaves rustle and the deep shadows stirred. Clara shivered.
“Clara?” called Bob from the door.
“It’s okay Grandpa, I found him. We’re coming in now.”
In the warm light of the kitchen, Clara showed Bob the piece of paper. “It’s a map, but I don’t know those place names.”
“And it was stuffed into his collar you say?” Bob frowned. “That’s very strange indeed. Who’d of done that?”
Clara shook her head. “It wasn’t Mr Willets because I saw him drive off. But why didn’t VanGogh bark? He always barks when someone comes on the property.”
“You really should tell her about the note,” said Jane. She was perched on the kitchen bench. VanGogh pricked his ears up and wagged his tail as he looked towards her. Bob couldn’t figure out if the dog could see Jane or just somehow sensed her there. He nodded.
“What?” asked Clara.
“There’s something I should tell you, Clara. It’s about that box you found.”
In reply to: Twists and One Return From the Time Capsule
“Box?” said Bob placing a hand on his chest. “Not the … ”
“Not box, Grandpa. Crops.” Clara spoke loudly. Poor old Grandpa must be going a bit deaf as well—he’d gone downhill since Grandma died. “His dogs got into your garden and dug up the crops. He says he’ll come by in the morning and fix up the damage. ”
“No, need to shout, Clara. I swear you said box. I thought you meant the box in the garage.”
“Oh, no that would be awful!” Clara shuddered at the thought of anything happening to her precious treasure. “Maybe we should bring the box inside, Grandpa? Make sure it’s safe.”
Bob sighed. Last thing he wanted was the damn box inside the house. But Clara had that look on her face, the one that means she’s made up her mind. He glanced around, wondering where they could put it so it was out of the way.
“Hey!” exclaimed Clara. “Where’s VanGogh gone? Did he sneak outside when Mr Willets came.” She went to the door and peered out into the darkness. “VanGogh! Here, Boy!” she shouted. “VanGogh!”
In reply to: Twists and One Return From the Time Capsule
VanGogh was sniffing frantically on the patio outside the house, a usual indication that he’d found the perfect spot for a healthy stool, but this time, as soon as Clara had looked the other way to take care of the sautéed mushrooms on the stove, he darted for the shed where the odd big toy had been unearthed and stored out of sight.
His tail wagged frantically as he pushed the door open, and slid underneath the tarpaulin behind the sleeping lawn-eater.
He started to scratch the box, the way he usually tried to open the puzzle ball Clara would fill with some kibble. It didn’t roll like the ball-that-dispensed-kibble. In frustration, VanGogh started to push his paws on the sleek smooth surface, near the curious indentations.
Something clicked open.
“VanGogh! Where are you boy?! Come!”
Suddenly distracted from this puzzling quest, he rushed to the kitchen for dinner.
In reply to: Twists and One Return From the Time Capsule
By now, the trench had been dug deeply around the mysterious artefact. It was surprisingly not rusty at all, and the box was large and oddly pear-shaped. There was no obvious lid nor hinge. Nothing that seemed ancient per say, and yet, given the depth of the dig, it was probably coming from a past long gone.
Clara had posted some pics to Alienor, her friend and amateur archeologist, and she’d been immediately intrigued (an slightly jealous at the find). There were still strict restriction in place, so she couldn’t come immediately, but you could hear from the tone of her voice messages, she was dying to become an outlaw to see the wonder in situ.
“Come on Clare, it’s going to be dark soon, we should go home or you’ll catch a cold.”
“Alright Granpa, but help me first get that out in the garage, we can’t let it outside unprotected.”
VanGogh barked approvedly.
In reply to: Twists and One Return From the Time Capsule
Grandpa Bob loved the sound of the kettle whistling. Cheery, he thought as he turned the flame off. Companionable.
He shuffled to the kitchen door. “Clara, cuppa?” he shouted down the hallway but there was no reply. Maybe she wasn’t up yet—it had been a long trip for her yesterday. Perhaps he could make her up a tray, although she’d probably say he was fussing.
Just then he heard VanGogh barking from the garden. He drew back the curtain and peered out the kitchen window. There she was! Way down the back digging in the vegetable garden. Bless her soul. Must have got started early on that weeding. She was saying she would last night. Grandpa, you really need to get some help around the place! she’d scolded.
“Clara, love!” he shouted. Damn dog was making such a racket she didn’t hear him. Nothing for it but to go out there. He chuckled, thinking how she’d probably scold him again for wandering around outside in his pyjamas. Bossy little thing she could be. But a good girl coming all this way to visit him.
He slipped on his outdoor shoes and slowly made his way down the path to the vegetable garden. VanGogh bounded over to him and Grandpa Bob gave him a pat. “What are you two up to out here, eh VanGogh?” But Clara was so engrossed on her phone she didn’t even glance up. He was about to call out to her again when he saw what she’d dug up and the words stuck in his throat. He let out a small cry.This year, Christmas has come a month early for Clara.
VanGogh, her Malinois with the lopsided ear had dug a hole in the garden of Grandpa’s home in the countryside. She usually wouldn’t have given it second thought, but the hole was big this time, and the dog unusually excited. Looking at it, that’s when she noticed the shiny corner of what seemed to be a very large metal box.
There was something buried there, apparently since a long time. Her archaeologist senses were all tingly. What, why, how, and how far back in time could she go… She couldn’t wait to tell the others.
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