Installment 8

Jake couldn’t help but fidget as he stood in line at the bank. Everyone around him seemed to be moving at a snail-like pace, unaware of the urgency of the moment. After what felt like an hour, a teller looked up at Jake, indicating that it was his turn. “Hi, I have a key, I’d like to open box 307” Jake said it almost like a question. The teller nodded, typing something into the computer.

“Can I see some identification please?” The man behind the desk peered over his glasses at Jake.

“Sure . . .” Jake fumbled with is wallet. His hand shook as he pulled out his driver’s license and held it out to the teller. The man took it, glanced at the name, then back at Jake.

“Thank you,” he said insincerely. “Please come this way.” The teller’s shiny black shoes clicked across the floor. Jake followed him down a hallway and into a vault, with rows upon rows of safe deposit boxes. The two men approached box 307, each inserting and turning a key. Jake heard a click as a latch was released and the man opened the small door. He slid the long metal box out. They exited the vault and the man escorted Jake into a separate room, where he set the box down on a table. “I will be waiting outside. Please take your time.” The man took one last look at Jake before closing the door.

For a few seconds, Jake was frozen. He simply stared at the box on the table and the empty chair. Finally, he sat, and slowly lifted the lid of the box, not knowing what to expect. The box was nearly empty. Jake stared down at a skeleton key and two pieces of paper. He reached for one of the folded papers and opened it up. It was a list of items corresponding to family names. Silver candlesticks – Anderson Family, porcelain dog – Wyatt Family . . . Jake folded up the first paper and picked up the second one. Finally, something that made sense. It was a letter from Walter:

Jake,

I hope it really is you opening the box and reading this. If so, thank you, and I’m sorry. If not, then whoever you are, get your goddamn nose out of my business.

I didn’t mean to go on so long without telling the truth. I’m a coward, but please know that I have felt the strain of my sins every day.

I’m afraid this letter does not explain everything, but it will lead you to the last answers. The other paper in this box is a list of items I stole (yes, stole), and the true owners. The skeleton key will open the small door on the right side of my attic. There you will find all the items and a confession I wrote a long time ago. I haven’t been in my attic in many years, so I hope that what I am telling you is still true.

I leave it to you to decide what to do at the end of this scavenger hunt. Please keep in mind the words of two great men:

Oscar Wilde stated, “The truth is rarely pure and never simple.”

And Thoreau once said, “It takes two to speak truth: one to speak and another to hear.”

I am forever grateful to you for hearing me.

- Walter


Jake pocketed both papers and the key, closing the lid of the box. He met the bank employee outside the room, and they walked back into the vault, replacing the now empty box in its proper spot.

As Jake left the bank, the wind whipped at the pavement and launched bursts of leaves into the air. The bitter gusts chapped his cheeks. It was time to pursue the final clue.

The entrance to the attic was through the closet in Walter’s room. Jake yanked on the string attached to the hatch, pulling down the hinged ladder connected to it. He felt his pocket, making sure the skeleton key was still there, before beginning to climb. The air in the attic was hot and thick with dust. As Jake reached the top of the ladder, something tickled his head. He recoiled before realizing that it was a string attached to a bulb in the ceiling. Jake yanked the string, and the attic was filled with a dim light.

He stepped off the ladder and into the attic, looking to the right for the door that Walter had mentioned in his letter. At first glance, there seemed to be just a smooth wall. Jake moved closer and began to run his hand along the panels until he felt a notch. He looked at where his fingers were tracing an outline and realized it was a keyhole. Jake could feel his blood pulse against the object in his pocket. He crouched down and pulled out the skeleton key. The door in front of him wasn’t big enough for a person to fit through.

As Jake lifted his hand that held the key, he could feel it being drawn toward the door as if by a magnetic force. It slid easily into the hole and hardly made a sound as it turned. The door swung open a few inches as it was unlocked. Inside were two boxes with an envelope on top. Jake grabbed the envelope and went back down into Walter’s room. He sat on the floor as he read the contents of the envelope.