The Promise

The realtor’s heels clicked across the rich oak floorboards, “Nobody’s been in this house for years, you sure you want it?” she asks as she turns back to face her buyer. The young man doesn't answer and instead walks over to an object hidden with a sheet and throws it off, it’s a piano and the realtor can see it has had better years. She suppresses a cough from the dust that blew up with the cover and impatiently checks her phone. “Shit” she mutters quietly under her breath, its her son’s school trying to get ahold of her and it’s the 3rd time that week. Since the divorce this past summer, he had been getting into more trouble at school. Her therapist told her it was a way of acting out and she wished again for the thousandth time there was just an easy fix. She didn’t regret the divorce-in fact in made her feel lighter, freer more like herself-but it also came with baggage she didn’t necessarily have the time to deal with. She sighs and then tells the buyer she has an important call to take outside. The buyer gives a nod and finally speaks, “I’ll just take a look around myself.” She gives one last glance at him and offers what she hopes is an encouraging smile, “Let me know if you want to write an offer!”

Inside, the young man turns around and surveys the room he was in, nostalgia hitting him right in the gut. What the realtor didn’t know was that he had been in this house before, roughly 25 years ago. Currently he was in the Great Room, just off to the left of the front door. It is empty now of course, besides the long-forgotten piano. A memory comes back to the young man and suddenly he is a child, no more than 4 years old. He looks around and everyone is dressed in black talking in low voices. The boy hears a conversation that piques his interest. It’s his older cousin talking, “My dad said she didn’t leave anyone anything in the will, that no one is getting any of her money, or the house! But my dad said he was her favorite so it must be a mistake. He’s gonna talk to the lawyers and then we are going to be rich or live here! Either way I win.” Another cousin rolls her eyes and says “Uh-uh sure, we will see about that.”

Another memory comes rushing back to him. He is in a room, it smells funny-like cleaning supplies and everyone is rushing around him. The lights are bright, and he feels uncomfortable. He doesn’t want to be there. Then he notices a hand slowly beckoning him to the bed, the hand is wrinkled and bony, but the face attached is smiling at him. He draws near and the lady in the bed begins to speak. The boy has to lean in to hear what she says. “They’re all too selfish. They think I’m going to give them everything after I die. They’re just waiting for me to go-I can see it in their eyes.” The old lady takes a moment to chuckle, which quickly turns into a cough. When she pulls away the tissue the boy can see blood. She notices him staring and winks. “Don’t worry though-they aren’t getting a cent, you hear me? Not. A. Cent. I don’t have much, just the house and about $20,000 left to my name but it will be yours when the time is right. Here, take this.” The lady reaches over to the side table and grabs a small black notebook, carefully placing it in the small boy’s hands. “Promise me, when the time is right you will come back to claim what is yours-the instructions on where the money and deed to the house are located in this notebook. Don’t show it to anyone else. I want you to have it-now do as I say.” The woman gives the boy one last squeeze of his hand.

The young man is transported back to the present. He looks down at the notebook in his hand and smiles as he says the words, “I promise.”