Three days later.

  “You stared down a panther!”

  Celeste put a finger to her lips, but the botanical garden was bustling with a small army of designers, carpenters, assistants, and set designers, so it was easy to have a conversation with anyone and not worry about being overheard.

  Celeste gingerly opened the duffel bag and beamed with delight at her kid cousin, Maxwell Reyes, and his drooling expression. It was a stretch to call him a kid cousin. There was barely five years between them, but Maxwell would argue that it was close to four and a half. Max had wavy light brown hair, that was a stark contrast to Celeste’s dark brunette that did have a hint of red beneath the right sort of sunlight. Celeste zipped up the duffel bag, but not before Max ducked his hand inside and pulled out the piece of cloth which oddly enough had a cufflink hanging loosely in the hole. Celeste hadn’t noticed it until now and found it surprisingly that it hadn’t fallen off during the scuffle.

  “Now be real,” Max said, “Did they really, you know?”

  Max made the motion, bringing his hand up and down. Celeste grimaced, and then nodded.

  “That is insane,” Max said, “I thought that kind of thing would only happen in the movies. It almost to unbelievable.”

  “It more believable than some spiritualist storyteller who came off as a mix between a wise old wizard and a panther tamer.” Celeste added. She ran her hands up and down her arms. Now that she was back in civilization, the temperature was way more friendly and accommodating. It had been warm when she walked in, but found the garden had assumed a faint chill.

  “I almost thought it was some kind of a prank,” Celeste continued. “I feel like there is something to the cryptic slogans, proverbs or haikus he was spouting but I wasn’t exactly in a position to write them down.”

  Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.

  “It adds a layer of mystery that’s for sure,” Max said, he was handed a clipboard which he took a hasty glance at before accepting a pen and signing off whatever the production team had brought him.

  “That kind of character would be fascinating for the movie,” Max said, “I doubt I could find an older gentleman with the right kind of temperament.”

  “If you spent time in the subway, I bed you could,” Celeste said, “a hundred bucks is a hundred bucks.”

  “Time is money, and I don’t time to go, or a talent scout.” Max said. “It would also cause some drama with the writers because the festival is two weeks away. Like always cuz, you are a gold mine for incredible scenarios. Sadly, its crunch time.”

  “I didn’t come to rub your nose in it,” Celeste said, “you’re just the one person in the family is will actually listen and not belittle me into accepting that I should take a sane job with reasonable hours and to make sure that I’m home on the holidays with grandchildren.”

  “We’re the beginning of a whole new generation,” Max said. “You get to save the world, and I get to share your amazing tales with the world.”

  “Or at least the thirty people who are willing to spend money to come see indie films.” Celeste said with a wide and sarcastic smile.

  Max pressed his hand to his chest as if he’d been punched. “Way to hit a man where he’s down.”

  “You’ve got to be ready for the critics,” Celeste said, “and you can always count on me to be one of the nice ones.”

  “Ha ha,” Max said. He pointed at the duffel bag. “Funny. So when do you hand that over?”

  “Professor Fletcher is flying in on Thursday,” Celeste replied, “Until then it will keep pretty well in the Academy’s vault.”

  “Ah yes,” Max said holding up the cufflink, “the elusive academy.”

  Celeste extended a hand for it.

  “Do you mind if I keep this?” Max said.

  Celeste raised an eyebrow. “You know that came off the arm of a dead guy, his literal arm. He was wanted by the local and international police and seemingly was the head of an up and coming criminal enterprise.”

  “Exactly,” Max said, “it's a memento at the level of Al Capone’s hat or Tommy gun if he ever used one of those things.”

  “Fair enough,” Celeste said, “I suppose so, but I better not see that on your Facebook profile, or on Ebay.”

  “You kidding thing has a legit dragon on it,” Max said, “I would sell this. If anything, I’d wear it on a blind date to sell her on my intrigue and creative vision.”

  Celeste took hold of her duffel bag and stood up to leave. “Alright, Don Juan. I’ll catch you later.”

  “I see you at the premiere!” Max said with a wave.