Weeping Willows

Chapter 8

Treasure hunt

                Later that afternoon Elizabeth gazed around the second floor of her house with a sense of accomplishment.  It was finally clean, and the place was looking more like a home and less like an abandoned building.  She had even started on the ‘what I need’ list, the top entry being curtains.  While the artist in her loved all the natural light the place had to offer, the woman in her begged for a bit of privacy.  Even though she was surrounded by trees she still felt a little exposed.  Dusting off her pants and grabbing a broom she decided to take her first peek at the attic.  She had no doubt it would be littered with cobwebs probably worse than the lower floor had been.  At least she could say the local pest control had done their job well.  Not a critter had been in sight since they had come out, well at least not a live one.

                Grabbing the long-handled hook, she reached up and opened the attic door.  At first it seemed a bit stuck probably from disuse, so Elizabeth placed both hands on the pole and yanked with everything she had.  The door swung down with a loud bang dropping years of dust in its wake.  She stood there in shock looking at her once pristine wood floor clean no more.  Waving the dust in the air out of her face she admitted she probably should have opened it before doing all the work she had that afternoon.  ‘Oh well,’ she thought to herself, ‘they say you learn something new every day.  Guess that was today’s lesson’.  Reaching back up she hooked the ladder dropping it down slowly, so she didn’t hurt herself.  She did not want to become the latest town gossip for giving herself a concussion with an attic ladder.  Once the ladder was unfolded and firmly on the floor, she looked the thing over for possible splinters or weak steps.  It seemed to be in good shape even though it was coated in years of filth.  With a shrug of her shoulders she began to climb up thankful it held her just fine.  Armed with her broom and a small flashlight in her back pocket she headed up into the darkness.

                Flicking on her tiny light she shone it about the rather enormous room around her.  Every surface was coated with dust and webbing.  It was the first time Elizabeth got the vibe of a haunted house from her home.  In awe she walked a few steps in not wanting to fall out the hole in the floor as her weak beam pierced through the darkness uncovering a hidden trove.  The rather cavernous place was filled to the brim with antiques from bygone times.  Her excitement mounted with each new thing the beam touched making her want to uncover it all that minute.  There were toys and a rocker, shelves of books lined a wall, and old steamer trunks had been stacked along another.  Her fingers twitched to start uncovering it all as her eyes sparkled in amazement.  She felt like an honest to god treasure hunter that had just hit the mother lode.  She gasped in glee when her flashlight landed on an easel leaning in a corner and she couldn’t help herself from skirting around until she was able to reach it.

                Her fingers traced along the solid oak frame admiring the craftsmanship in the piece.  She wondered who the artist had been in the family as she cracked open the tray on the front.  Old brushes and glass pots lined the inside and you could still make out the smell of oil from the paints it once held.  Her hands danced among the array of supplies taking care not to cut herself on the knives. Pulling her hand back she closed the lid moving her light to the boxes next to her.

                Opening the closest one to her she found it full of art supplies that had been packed away with care.  Lifting the box, she moved it across the attic closer to the door before setting it down.  Looking at the box and then the door she realized it was too big for her to try and cart down the ladder by herself.  She was going to either have to find someone to help her or end up piecing it out into smaller containers in order to get it all down.  Breathing out a heavy sigh she resigned herself to figuring it out later as she still wanted to poke about the room.  Going back over to the easel she moved that too over to her box of treasures for easier access when she was able to remove them.

                She decided to investigate the other boxes that occupied that corner in hopes of finding more supplies she might be able to salvage.  There was a total of six counting the one she had already opened and she just couldn’t wait to peek inside them all. 

                Slightly disappointed there had only been one more box of supplies and the rest were boxes of clothing possibly belonging to the artist since they too held a hint of turpentine and oil.  Much to her delight though she found a plethora of canvases and paper tucked away in a small alcove that had been hidden behind the boxes.  They too were moved over to her little hoard she was steadily acquiring near the door.  The next thing she opened was the large black trunk that sat beside the artist’s things. 

               The hinges groaned as she lifted the lid flipping it back it hit the floor with a resounding thud.  A cloud of dust flew up in the air causing her to cough and cover her nose.  Once everything settled, she shone her light inside feeling a bit of a wrenching pain in her chest.  Nestled to one side was a stack of crisply folded military garb faded slightly by time regardless that they had been stored away.  She gently ran her hand over the stiff fabric of the shirt picking up the dog tags that had been placed on top.  She could just make out the name William Bennett through the years of grime that had built up.  Vaguely Elizabeth recalled her class mentioning that the only son had served during WWI.   Rubbing the cool metal between her fingers one last time she placed the necklace back in its place and moved on.  Next to the neat stack of clothing was a pair of well-worn black boots that you could tell the owner took good care of once.  There was a small pouch next to the boots that she found housed things like a hairbrush and boot polish.  There were a few other small items she didn’t know what they were, so she tucked them all back inside and began to place it back inside the chest.  Stopping Elizabeth shone her light into the depths of the trunk noticing a smaller container that had been underneath the shoes and the pouch.  Reaching in she removed the box and once again shone her light inside the chest before replacing the shoes and the pouch.  In her lap was a fragile cardboard box worn and warped with age.  She took care to lift the lid off fearing it would fall to pieces in her hands.  Inside she found a small stack of stationery and envelopes along with a pen and pencil.  What caught her interest though was a stack of letters all tied together into a neat bundle.

              Lifting them out she marveled how soft the paper felt fragile in its age.  Turning them over her fingers traced over the black block lettering of her address on the front of the top one.  A thrill shot through her as she danced with the idea of opening it up and reading the words held inside.  Guilt was swift on her heels though knowing the letters were meant for someone else.  Placing the small parcel back into the little box she refitted the lid pondering all the while.  Would it be such a crime if she read them though since clearly the sender was gone as well as probably the recipient.  However, had it been her and someone had found mail from a long-ago ancestor she would want it returned to her.  She decided to give it some more thought as she found herself reticent to return the box back into the darkness of the chest.  Setting it aside she sat up and closed the chest lid resealing all the contents back inside minus one small box of letters.

              Picking up the box and her flashlight she moved back to the stairs her thoughts a jumbled mess.  She gently secured the small container under her arm as she descended the stairs back onto the second floor.  With care she placed the box on the floor closing the attic behind her.  Carrying it in her hands she made her way down to the ground floor debating on her conundrum.  To read them or not, that truly was the question.  Just as she set foot on the first floor her cell phone rang out piercing the silence of the house.

             Making her way into the kitchen she sat the box down while picking up the offended phone.  Nell’s number appeared on the screen and without a second thought she accepted the call.

            “Hey hon just checking in.  What the hell happened to you?!”  Startled Elizabeth looked at the phone in her hand not realizing the call had been a facetime call.  She took in Nell’s horrified face with confusion not grasping what had startled her friend so badly.

             “What is all over you Lizzy?”  She looked down at her clothes only just remembering the years of dirt that fallen on her earlier.  Explaining what happened Nell’s horror turned to amusement as she took in the disheveled visage of her friend.  Elizabeth blushed feeling embarrassed to have been caught in such a blunder.

             “Leave it to you to trudge headlong into something without thinking.”

            “Holy crap Nell you should see the treasure trove of stuff up there.  I can’t wait to bring it all out.”  Nell laughed at her excitement and listened intently as she recounted her finds to her.

            “Sounds like you’ve had quite the afternoon.”

            “More like quite the day really.”

            “Oh, how so?”

             “Remember the grandson I told you one of my students was trying to match make me with?”  At Nell’s nod she continued. 

              “I ran into him this morning at the diner in town and I was dressed like this!  Well minus all the dirt.  Even if I looked like a slob, I was at least clean then.”

              “I would hope so.  And let me guess by your reaction I’d say he was cute too.”

              “Like cute nerd meets GQ hot.”  Nell burst out laughing having no sympathy for her plight.

              “Was he nice?’

              “Nice enough I guess.  We barely said two words to each other before he left and I found out who he was. I’ll be seeing him on Saturday though, so I hope I make a better second impression then the troll lady hunched over her coffee.”

              “Did he ask you out?”

              “What!  No!  Even if he had I would have turned him down.  He’s a complete stranger.  The waitress it turns out is his childhood friend.  She kept me company while I ate, and we hit it off.  She invited me to join her and a group of friends for an outing.  I told her I would think about it.”

              “I think you should go.”

             “Why?  I’m not in a place to be in a relationship.”

              “I’m not saying you should go to pick up men Lizzy.  It might be nice to get out of the house for a bit and you know find a group of people there you can maybe count on as friends.”

              “I suppose.”  Elizabeth responded sullenly not really liking the idea of encroaching on someone else’s plans even if one of them had invited her she still felt like an interloper.

              “I mean it.  Give it some real consideration don’t just blow it off.”

              “Okay, Okay.  I promise to think it over.”  Glancing at the box on the table she decided to pick Nell’s brain a little and borrow her moral compass on her current problem.  Lifting the lid, she took out the stack of letters and turned back to her friend who seemed momentarily distracted by something in the next room.

              “I’ve got a moral dilemma I need your help with Nell.”

             “Sure, I’m all ears.”

             “When I was up in the attic I came across a bundle of old letters inside a military trunk.  I’m itching to read them, but I don’t know if it would be right to do so.”  She lifted the small parcel of letters up for Nell to see hoping she gave her the answer she really wanted to hear.

              “Honestly I don’t see what the harm would be.  If I were you, I would sort that attic out into things you want to keep and donate the rest to a museum or something.  They would probably even be interested in those letters once you’re done with them.”

              “You think so?”

              “Sure, the last museum I went to had old documents from a farm sale from the early 1800’s, I think.  People find that stuff fascinating.  Just take care not to damage them as you read them.”

              “Thanks Nell, for all the advice not just the letters.”

              “Any time. s**t!  I’ve got to go Lizzy I think the boys are trying to burn a trail of ants on my carpet with a magnifying glass and I swear I smell smoke.  Talk at you later, bye.”   With that she hung up, but Elizabeth barely noticed.  When Nell had yelled out it had made her jump and she had dropped the letters to the floor.  The twine had broken on impact scattering the envelopes across the floor.  She fell to her knees crawling across the tile retrieving each one where it lay.  She resorted the stack by the post dates from newest to oldest.  If she was going to read them, she supposed she should start at the beginning. 

               Placing the reorganized stack back into the box she sat back in her seat holding the oldest one in her hand.  She stared at it in a trance as she wondered whether she should really read it or not.  A light breeze caught the flap gently swinging it back and forth as if inviting her to peek inside.  With a slightly trembling hand she turned the letter over watching as the flap moved.  Reaching out she flipped it up revealing the yellowed contents inside.  With her resolve firmed by the action Elizabeth slid her fingers inside grasping onto the letter.