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The Inventor’s Paradise
I crept down the basement, the wooden steps creaking eerily. What was in the basement? My mind went back to the night before…
“Why are we so poor, Grandmother?” I asked while shivering near the meagre fire kindled by old newspapers. It was the coldest winter recorded in more than a decade, and we had no money to pay for the luxury of heaters.
“I think you are old enough to know a bit about the family history, my dear Talia,” Grandmother Cordelia sighed.
“Our family was famous for our skills in inventing. Your great-great grandfather, Dr Mark C Lidwell, invented the pacemaker at 26 years of age. Your great grandfather, George Kossof, had invented ultrasound and your grandfather, John ‘O Sullivan, had innovated wi-fi in 1977. Your father and his brother, Lars and Jens Rasmussen, had coded Google Maps in 2003.” Grandmother told as she pointed to the crippling photographs of our family.
“We used to be very wealthy and prosperous until Lars and Jens had a fight, right after you were born. Huge fight it was, the media all going bonkers. No one actually knew what they were fighting about, but they all assumed it was over the rights to Google Maps or the inheritance of your grandfather. But, I knew my sons, they wouldn’t fight about something so materialistic. Anyways, your father died of a heart attack a few months later, the doctors said it was because of stress and overwork. Still, the media pointed fingers at Jens, for murdering him when that was not true. Well, Jens disappeared after your father’s funeral, never to be seen again. As for your mother, she died because of depression. So, then I was left with no source of income and a baby girl. So, you can imagine how one could survive. I had to sell everything, including rights to all the inventions our family created and the numerous mansions we owned. Before Jens left though, he told me the answer to it all was in the basement of the servant’s quarters. I scoured every item there, but couldn’t find anything. So, I kept this place, knowing it had some sort of significance and I have grown old trying to retrieve whatever the answer is,” she continued.
I was shocked. What were Lars and Jens fighting over? What was ‘the answer’?
My mind returned to the present day, the questions still echoing in my head. I reached the bottom of the stairs, the basement pitch-black. The candle that I had lit unnervingly illuminated the shadowy place adorned with cobwebs and insects.
Not knowing what to look for, I rummaged through the dusty boxes, finding all sorts of weird and unusual contraptions. Most of them were useless, others were worn and rusted. This was truly an inventor's paradise.
Then, I noticed something peculiar. Another source of light, far brighter than the candle. I looked for where the light was coming from, and behind a shelf, I spotted a beautiful red rose covered in an intricate glass case, ornate with all sorts of jewels.
Some magical force pulled me towards the glistening rose like a magnet, and I tried to resist the urge to open the glass case. But I couldn't any longer. Before I knew it, I was inhaling the rose's ambrosial fragrance, worthy of the gods.
Then, I was sucked into a vortex. My lungs were screaming, my heart beating like a gong and my eyes widening to the size of golf balls. What on earth was happening?!
I crept down the basement, the wooden steps creaking eerily. What was in the basement? My mind went back to the night before…
“Why are we so poor, Grandmother?” I asked while shivering near the meagre fire kindled by old newspapers. It was the coldest winter recorded in more than a decade, and we had no money to pay for the luxury of heaters.
“I think you are old enough to know a bit about the family history, my dear Talia,” Grandmother Cordelia sighed.
“Our family was famous for our skills in inventing. Your great-great grandfather, Dr Mark C Lidwell, invented the pacemaker at 26 years of age. Your great grandfather, George Kossof, had invented ultrasound and your grandfather, John ‘O Sullivan, had innovated wi-fi in 1977. Your father and his brother, Lars and Jens Rasmussen, had coded Google Maps in 2003.” Grandmother told as she pointed to the crippling photographs of our family.
“We used to be very wealthy and prosperous until Lars and Jens had a fight, right after you were born. Huge fight it was, the media all going bonkers. No one actually knew what they were fighting about, but they all assumed it was over the rights to Google Maps or the inheritance of your grandfather. But, I knew my sons, they wouldn’t fight about something so materialistic. Anyways, your father died of a heart attack a few months later, the doctors said it was because of stress and overwork. Still, the media pointed fingers at Jens, for murdering him when that was not true. Well, Jens disappeared after your father’s funeral, never to be seen again. As for your mother, she died because of depression. So, then I was left with no source of income and a baby girl. So, you can imagine how one could survive. I had to sell everything, including rights to all the inventions our family created and the numerous mansions we owned. Before Jens left though, he told me the answer to it all was in the basement of the servant’s quarters. I scoured every item there, but couldn’t find anything. So, I kept this place, knowing it had some sort of significance and I have grown old trying to retrieve whatever the answer is,” she continued.
I was shocked. What were Lars and Jens fighting over? What was ‘the answer’?
My mind returned to the present day, the questions still echoing in my head. I reached the bottom of the stairs, the basement pitch-black. The candle that I had lit unnervingly illuminated the shadowy place adorned with cobwebs and insects.
Not knowing what to look for, I rummaged through the dusty boxes, finding all sorts of weird and unusual contraptions. Most of them were useless, others were worn and rusted. This was truly an inventor's paradise.
Then, I noticed something peculiar. Another source of light, far brighter than the candle. I looked for where the light was coming from, and behind a shelf, I spotted a beautiful red rose covered in an intricate glass case, ornate with all sorts of jewels.
Some magical force pulled me towards the glistening rose like a magnet, and I tried to resist the urge to open the glass case. But I couldn't any longer. Before I knew it, I was inhaling the rose's ambrosial fragrance, worthy of the gods.
Then, I was sucked into a vortex. My lungs were screaming, my heart beating like a gong and my eyes widening to the size of golf balls. What on earth was happening?!