I drove my new ride to the dump, eager to get the task over with so I could officially call the van mine. On the passenger seat, the red-ribboned box sat quietly, like it was waiting for the right moment to reveal itself. I caught myself glancing at it several times along the way, wondering what might be inside. "It’s not a cat, there aren’t any holes... Maybe a new violin? No... the shape’s off. Maybe something from my childhood?" Curiosity throbbed in me like a second heartbeat—constant and impossible to ignore.
When I arrived at the dump entrance, the grumpy old guy gave me a blank stare and pointed to the back of the lot. I nodded in thanks and drove slowly between piles of debris, the van crawling past broken furniture, busted appliances, and mounds of things that once mattered to so
