Secret of the Little Black Book

"Edie, I just don't get it. You would think that Mom would leave some information, some clue." Trent, a white-haired, seventy year-old-man, peered through a magnifying glass in addition to his scholarly spectacles. A stack of papers was directly in front of him and more books, newspapers and legal pads were spread across the table.

Trent looked up at his cousin. "Are you sure that Mom didn't tell you anything about the other children?" He squinted at her as if able to pull the answers from her.

Edie thought back to the moment she had first seen the little black book. It was also the last time she had seen her Aunt Ella, on her Aunt's deathbed. Ella requested a moment alone with her niece. The old woman pulled out a small black notebook with a bright red ribbon, barely faded, that served as a bookmark and was attached to the book spine at one end and tied to a small metal key on the other.

"I want you to read this. But then you will put it in a very safe spot and not say anything to anyone until...and unless...Trent finds out the truth."

The last statement made it very hard for Edie to keep concentrating on her aunt and almost made it hard to breathe. The truth? About what?

The wrinkled hand in hers tried to tighten, but there was less strength there than ever before. Ella's eyes were closed, but she still spoke, albeit barely above a whisper.

"IF Trent learns the truth," the old woman continued, "if he figures it out some way, with no hints or leads from you...then you are to give him the book. You can tell him that I forbid you to say anything until he found out for himself. If he dies without knowing the truth, and you are still alive, burn the book and say nothing to anyone. Promise me that."

"I will Aunt Ella. You can trust me. How will I know that he has found out though?" Edie felt like the weight of the world had suddenly shifted to her shoulders.

The old woman smiled, though she did not open her eyes. "He will say something to you. Don't worry. I know how close you two are, and I know my son. Now, put it away. Don't lose it or share it until it's time."

Edie wrapped the small notebook in a couple tissues and hid it in her purse. Then she called the family in to her Aunt's side just before the old woman slipped away.

"Edie! Are you listening to me?" Trent's voice cut through her memories.

"Hold on a minute," she stated. Her voice was strong, but she felt slightly shaky. She walked down the hall and into her bedroom. She pulled a small box out from between the studs in the back of her closet and unlocked it. She removed the notebook from it's resting place of thirty years.

Edie stood and smoothed her apron as she walked out of the room. Trent was still in the dining room, but now he was standing and pacing. He stopped in mid-pace and turned towards Edie, eyes full of questions.

"Your mother gave me this right before she died." Edie stood, clutching the small black book. Trent reached for it, but Edie pulled it back out of reach of his grasp. Trent's eyebrows seem to disappear into his hairline and he gave his cousin a threatening and disdainful look. He quickly remembered who he was dealing with and his face softened.

"What I want you to know," Edie spoke bravely. "Is that I made a promise to your mother on her deathbed." She took a deep breath and focused on the small black book in her hand instead of Trent's face.

"She made me promise that I would not give this to you UNLESS you found out yourself first. I couldn't give you a single hint." Edie handed the small book to Trent's hand which betrayed his emotions with a slight tremble.

"So, you know what's in here?" He asked, unsure if he was excited, angry or afraid.

"Yes."

Trent sat back down at his pile of papers at the living room table. Slowly, he opened the cover and took out the four photos that were in the front. One of each boy alone and one of each boy with their mother, Trent's mother. Two boys, making him one of three instead of an only child.

One photos was labeled with 'Patrick Stephen, 6 months', in his mother's handwriting. The other two photos were labeled 'James Henry, aged 1 year'. Trent studied each photo carefully, both with magnifying glass and without. Then moved aside the red ribbon with the key and began carefully turning the pages

The dates and details of when and where Trent's two older brothers were born and died were carefully inscribed on the pages. They were both born in a time when infant deaths were plentiful and common, but no less heart wrenching.

Trent's deep voice behind her nearly made Edie jump. "C'mon Edie, get your purse." They walked to the driveway and got in the small rental car.

"So, where to this time, boss?" She smiled a little at him, trying to relieve some of the tension that had lingered in the air.

Trent looked at her over his glasses, "Well, Missy, I think you know the answer to that." The statement with a smile. He couldn't stay mad at her. He was hurt that she had kept so much knowledge from him, especially when he was right there, staying in her house while he was looking for that very information.

"You're driving," she replied, glad the moment had passed without yelling and screaming.

"That I am," Trent responded as he backed out of the driveway. "I am finally in the driver's seat again."

An hour later, they arrived at their destination. Silverton Memorial Park. The sign looked as dated as the stone memorials in the grass. A weathered black house sat at the top of the hill. Trent parked the car and helped Edie out. The small black book was clutched tightly in Trent's hand as they strode towards the door.

The door was opened by a woman in a pale suit with kind eyes. "Good afternoon, Can I help you lovely folks?"

Trent's voice was clear and deep. "Yes, ma'am, I do believe you can help us. I have this," he held the little book open to a designated page, "and this," to which he showed the small metal key on the end of the red ribbon.

"Well, come right in." The woman held the door wide for Edie and Trent, then closed and locked it behind them. "The policy here, especially when someone visits with your purpose, is to lock up so that you have absolute privacy and security." The woman spoke before Trent could begin questioning her.

"Good enough," Trent validated her response and they followed her towards a nearby room.

"Have a seat. I'll be right back." They walked to an oak table with matching chairs. Trent sat down and leaned his head back, closing his eyes. "Oh mother, what trick have you got up your sleeve this time?" He chuckled and looked over at Edie with a grin.

"Anything else you want to share with me, cousin?" His words were serious but no longer accusing.

"No." Edie replied. "You now know everything I know and have everything I had."

"Want to venture any guesses what the key unlocks?" His eyes were almost playful and challenging.

"Knowing your mother...absolutely not. My mother always said Ella was way too, um, 'whimsical'." Edie smiled right back at him, remembering all of the good times the families had had together.

"Whimsical, huh? Well that's a college word for ya," Trent laughed.

Just then the woman walked back into the room, carrying a simple wooden box, engraved with the initials of Trent's mother.

"I believe you have the key to this." The woman indicated the key on the satin ribbon, still attached to the book. "I will leave you two alone, but I will be right out in the next room at my desk if you need anything."

"Well, here's the last of it," he smiled apprehensively as he slid the metal key into the old lock on the box. It clanked open ominously, but Trent simply moved it aside quickly.

He opened the lid slowly and let the lid rest all the way back on the table. Edie watched as he pulled out two large medallions and three envelopes. He slid the disks to Edie before he carefully opened the sealed envelopes.

Each medallion was a grave marker with the boys names, birth and death dates engraved upon them. An angel was imprinted at the top above the names. Somehow these two little boys who had died in infancy became incredibly real, and a few tears rolled down Edie's face before she could wipe them away.

"The boys were cremated and their ashes spread at the home." Trent read the letter in his hands. "There were no graves, but mother purchased grave markers anyway." Trent refolded the letter and replaced it into the first envelope.

He cleared his throat but said nothing. Taking the next envelope out, he carefully opened it. Edie saw his eyes flicker, but waited contently for him to reveal what was inside.

Instead of verbally answering her, he simply slid the open envelope across the table. A blue ribbon tied together a small stack of currency, with a piece of paper on the top. She read the handwritten note. "From a life insurance policy for Patrick."

Trent nodded, "She cashed it in but never spent a penny." Edie lay the money down as her cousin slid the last envelope towards her. The contents were identical, life insurance money paid when James Henry had passed. Between the two envelopes there was twenty-thousand dollars.

Trent picked up the envelopes, carefully tucking all of the contents in the box before relocking it.

"Mom was always good at keeping secrets. Patrick died from the Spanish Flu, and James from pneumonia. Since they were born before I came along Mom and Dad didn't feel it was important for me to know. So there it is. That's all of it. She left notes in the first letter. Those photos are all she ever had of them. I believe we have come to the end then, Edie."

His eyes met hers and she realized that they too were wet from tears. He stood up and got her chair before picking up the small chest along with his other items. They opened the door and walked to the woman's desk.

"Do we need to do anything else? Or am I free to just take this with me?" Trent asked her, tapping the box.

She stood up behind her desk and reached for his hand. It was as much formality and comfort as common practice, and she gave it an extra, though tender, squeeze before releasing it. "No, Sir, that box belongs exclusively to you. Do with it as you will. This chapter is now closed and Ella's wishes have been fulfilled."

"Thank you for keeping it safe all of these years." Trent acknowledged the woman as she walked them to the door and unlocked it. Then he turned to Edie. "And thank you, little cousin, for honoring my mother's wishes." He reached out and gave her a one arm hug that still picked her up off her feet. "Who would have thought? Mom really got the last word in, didn't she?"

They both laughed out loud and the ride home was much livelier and lighter than when they had driven there. That box, and the money in it had been there for over seventy years. Even Edie had never imagined what secrets lay within the little black book.