Title: Eye See You Genre: Man from UNCLE - The Foothills universe Rating: PG-13 Word count: 1210 Prompt: While digging in his backyard, an old man discovers an iron chest. He opens it and finds a pile of old photographs of his ancestors. All of them are missing their left eye. bonniejean1953, I hope you have as much for with this as I did! My thanks to you and to sparky955 for her beta help! “Tell me again why this was such a great idea?” Illya tossed a shovelful of dirt aside. His tee shirt was drenched with sweat, despite the fall day being cool and the wind crisp. Napoleon made a face at his partner and lover. “Mr. Higgins is kind and generous. He has donated both his time and energy to helping out this community. If anyone deserves some help around the house, it’s him.” “No I mean, why is it such a great idea that I dig the hole and you supervise?” “Because I have the clipboard.” “Oh, that explains everything.” Illya wiped off his brow and returned to digging out the flower bed. It was true that while Mr. Higgins was extremely helpful at organizing bake sales and volunteering with many local groups, he was not a keen gardener or home repairman. It had been the mayor’s thought that fixing up his property would be repayment in part. True to form, the mayor’s first stop had been to see Napoleon – Jackson’s philanthropist. He quickly agreed to bankrolling some of the necessary supplies and then sweet talked Illya into providing food for the weekend. It wasn’t truly that much of a chore and it was nice to get out of the kitchen for a while, but Illya’s back was telling him that quitting time was nigh. “My back is killing me. Just one more shovelful,” Illya said and his shovel hit something hard. That wasn’t a surprise, the land was littered with relics from the past. This had been a gold-mining pioneer town. Rusted out pans, buckets, tools and other items were regularly pulled from the ground. This was bigger, though. “Napoleon, toss me that hand trowel.” “What do you have?” “Something, I think.” A crowd had grown by the time they’d gotten the item dug up. It was an old cast iron chest and it took three men to wrestle it from the hole and onto the dead grass. Someone dragged over a hose and they washed it off. “Someone should go get Mr. Higgins.” “Do you think it’s gold, Chef?” one of the local kids asked, his eyes wide with excitement. Illya smiled at the boy. “It could well be; it’s heavy enough.” “Wow! Oh, wow!” He raced away to get his friends, nearly knocking over Mr. Higgins as he left. “Be careful!” Napoleon’s shouted and grabbed the man’s elbow to steady him. “Kids!” “Never chastise children, my young friend. You were one not all that long ago.” Illya hid his smirk from the older man if not Napoleon. “Longer than you think,” he murmured and Rocky grinned. “We found this, Mr. Higgins, and wondered if you knew what it was.” The man knelt and ran his hands over the outside of the chest. “I remember hearing that my grandfather had buried a chest long ago. It was just after my father had his accident and the suspicion was that it drove my grandfather just a bit crazy.” “Your father was injured?” Napoleon asked. “It was a freak accident. My grandfather was splitting wood too close to the house, according to my grandmother. A piece of wood splintered off and went into my father’s eye. He lost it soon after that.” “I didn’t know.” Napoleon hadn’t met the man, but he’d seen photos. “He wore a glass one. I remember I used to wait until he was sleeping. He would take it out and I would steal it and chase my sisters around. They were terrified of it.” Napoleon laughed. “You sound like a bit of the devil.” “Well, I got it back in spades, believe me. They were my babysitters growing up. Sigh… I was the only boy with painted toenails in gym class. Used to make showering hell, I tell you.” Both Napoleon and Illya laughed at that. Mr. Higgins looked reflective. “It was very odd, though. Both of them later lost their own left eyes. One was to cancer, another to an eye operation that went horribly wrong.” “That’s…” Napoleon struggled for a word. “… very odd.” Mr. Higgins nodded and tapped his thick glasses. “I wear these for protection. There have been some close calls, but they have served me well.” He regarded the chest seriously. “You know, I’d heard about a chest that had been buried. One of my cousins said it was to hide a fortune in jewels and gold. Another one said it was to stop a curse.” Illya mopped off his forehead with the damp bandanna he had around his neck. “What would you like us to do with it, sir?” “Could you manage it up onto the porch? Then I can sit and look at it comfortably. So many questions.” It took some wrestling and four men, but eventually the trunk sat on the porch, still glistening wet in the setting sun. Illya checked his watch. “It’s about time for me to get cooking. I think you‘ll need to break that padlock off.” Mr. Higgins rubbed his chin, his lips pursed in thought. “Hmmm, I have a key that might work.” “It looks rusted shut to me,” Illya said quietly to Napoleon. He shrugged his shoulders. “He’ll figure out something.” Napoleon squinted at the sun, then at his watch. “Mr. Higgins, we will leave you to your mystery.” “I will let you know what I find.” He waved. “Thank you so much for your help today. I can’t believe how great the old place looks!” Illya walked into their kitchen and sunk down to a chair. He leaned forward and rested his head on his forearms. A moment later, the door swung open from the living room and Napoleon came in. “I thought I heard something.” “Mmph.” He didn’t have the strength for anything else. “Busy night?” “Everyone in Jackson seemed to have decided they needed to treat themselves to a night on the town. I’ve never been this busy on a non-holiday Sunday. At least I can sleep in tomorrow.” Napoleon brought Illya a bottle of cold water and some fruit he’d cut up – it was Illya’s favorite go-to snack – and set it on the table in front of him. Then he sat down and interlaced his fingers before him. Illya took a long swallow and ate a wedge of apple, then prompted. “What’s wrong, Napoleon?” “There was an… incident.” “Here? Did Mrs. Colburn’s cows get out and block Main Street again?” He smiled at the thought of Doug trying to corral a handful of willful animals. “No, Illya, I’m afraid it’s a bit more serious.” At Napoleon’s solemn expression, Illya sobered. “Napoleon?” “They… ah… they found Mr. Higgins dead this evening.” For a moment, Illya waited, then offered. “He was in his eighties, Napoleon. It’s not exactly unexpected, but it is sad that he didn’t get to enjoy the fruits of our labors..” “They found the chest opened and him in front of it. There were photographs in it.” “Photographs?” “Hundreds of them. Strange thing was that, according to Doug, in every picture, the person or people were missing their left eye.” “Okay, that rates high on the weird scale. What does it have to do with Mr. Higgins?” “His left eye was gone. There was no sign of it….”