Billy's Book: the beginning of a forgotten life

Preface: My mother wrote this piece of fiction after she had a dream about this story. I helped her edit it, and she is now working on making more chapters of this story. She hopes to publish into a novel one day. She has dreamed of writing stories for years and I hope soon she can enjoy herself more. After she was diagnosed with Leukemia last year we realized that life is to be enjoyed and we should try to live it to the fullest. Please enjoy her work!

Billy's Book: The beginning of a forgotten life

Allison knew when she touched the surface of that forlorn black book caked with dust that she had found something special. Its cover was worn leather with areas rubbed down from repeated use. Just by being near that book, you could feel a sense of foreboding. A sense that you were about to learn an old secret no one should know if they wanted to keep a positive mood. She carefully pulled it out of the wall she was tearing down and blew decades of dust off its cover to read the name inscribed at the bottom; William “Billy” Ritter Jr.

Sitting on the creaky wooden floor of the attic, she unwound the leather strap holding the book closed. Carefully turning the cover, she was surprised to see how well the inside had been preserved. The first page again listed the owner’s name and included his birth date of January 12, 1889.

“Wow!” Allison said aloud to herself.

“This notebook is over a hundred years old!”.

Although she was in the middle of remodeling the house, Allison continued to sit on the floor of the attic and read the book with the chilling air as her only company.

The next page included the date at the top, January 12, 1902.

“Today I am 13 years old. I am officially a man!”

Below was the story of Billy’s birthday party and how his girl, Evelyn, had given him this notebook as a present. The story was well-written for a 13-year-old and included a drawing at the bottom of Billy and Evelyn smiling at each other. According to his book, Billy wanted to be a writer and move Evelyn to a big city where he would raise a family with her. Suddenly enthralled by this story, Allison was touched by the sentiments of the 13-year-old Billy and hoped as she read further, that his dreams had come true all those years ago.

“Right now, I really need to finish tearing down this wall though...”

Allison talked to herself quite frequently these days. It helped her not feel so alone in the old turn of the century farmhouse she was renovating. It was the only thing given to her by her recently deceased mother. The breast cancer treatments had taken everything else leaving barely enough money to give her mother a decent funeral. At first, Allison did not really want the broken-down house and thought of selling the land instead. However, her sentimental heart would not allow it. The house and land had been in her family for over a century and meant so much to her mother. Allison, an only child, felt obligated to keep it. Despite any cold or lamentful memories attached to it.

Not having any money to pay professionals, Allison was doing most of the demolitions and repairs herself minus any plumbing or electrical projects she deemed too advanced for her skills. And of course, the “Damn Well”. Allison glanced out the window to see the Foreman and his workers surveying the long dried-up well on the property. Apparently, the well was a safety hazard and needed to be sealed for the house and property to be deemed livable. There were concerns of soil contaminants and sinkholes as depressions in the ground had formed over the years surrounding the well. All of Allison’s savings were now being used to take care of the “Damn Well”. Her contempt for the well grew as she watched the men work. Allison had even painted a sign to mark the spot of the well in her frustration. “Here lies Damn Well, may it rest in Hell”.

Later that afternoon, the workers left intent on returning in two days with truckloads of bentonite clay chips and soil to fill in the well and seal it off permanently. Allison feeling drained mentally and physically made herself a cup of tea and sat at one of the few pieces of furniture she had, a small kitchen table. With some time finally for herself, she decided to read more of Billy’s book. Allison found herself lost in the stories Billy told, each written with such grace and emotion. Every story included the date it was written at the top and a drawing at the bottom. At first, the stories were mostly of his mishaps with Evelyn. Like the time he picked wildflowers and brought them all the way to school to present her with a huge bouquet, only to find out she was highly allergic. Evelyn missed several days of school and had to take medicine for hives but never complained. Or the time he ran up behind her in the town’s General Store and hugged her as he said “Evelyn, you are the most beautiful girl in town!” Only to find out when the girl turned around it was a stranger. Before she realized it, hours had passed and the owls hooting outside had begun to signal her brain to sleep.

“Billy-boy, it is way past my bedtime – we will convene tomorrow!”

The next morning she hadn’t slept well, so coffee in hand she picked up the old black book and began reading once again. Halfway through the pages, Billy was now 15 years old and had endured so much. His mother became ill, with “stomach cancer” and Allison knew all too well the pain and despair he described and suffered. Forced to quit school, Billy picked up countless odd jobs to care for his mother and younger brother. His father, an alcoholic, was rarely around anymore becoming “lost in the bottle” as Billy put it. Their farm was suffering, with many crops and livestock dying out. His mother really needed treatment, but they could not afford it. Evelyn was barely mentioned anymore nor was his dream of becoming a writer, as his attentions were focused on keeping his family alive. Allison wept alone in the house as she thought of his struggles and hoped as she read further, that things would turn around for him. The stories, however, became shorter and farther apart with gaps of months at a time. The pages reflected his life too and became devoid of his old happy drawings.

Allison did not expect this book to filled with such sadness and pain, but as she would read on things only became grimmer.

Things took a darker turn on June 15, 1906. Billy was 17 and it had been almost a year since his last entry in the book. Billy was frustrated and his mother near death. His father had been gone for over 6 months, leaving Billy responsible for his family and the farm. Billy wrote of a plan he and his friend, Chester, had to get some quick money. They left early that morning and rode to a town about 60 miles away that had a large bank in its epicenter. Billy donned a potato sack over his face and with a loaded gun, he and Chester stormed into the bank, yelling for everyone to get on the floor. There were about 5 patrons and 2 workers including a sheriff there that day and somehow, Billy and Chester maintained control of the bank and left with 2 large flour sacks of money.

“Billy – No!”

Allison felt distraught and shocked as she read of Billy’s crime. How did this sweet, innocent boy suddenly become a bank robber at 17! Billy and Chester made it out of the bank that day with the money but as luck would have it, a local sheriff was outside with gun drawn, “Stop right there!” Billy panicked and fired his gun, hitting the sheriff in the shoulder who return fired hitting Chester in the head. Billy escaped, running for hours on adrenaline through fields, down dirt roads, stopping only for short rest periods or to take a drink from a stream. At one point he said he even had to hide in the cornfields with animal dung all over him. He finally reached his house exhausted, dirty, and mentally unwell. He locked all the doors and shut the blinds to conceal himself. His family was worried about seeing him this way but they could not complain. He held up inside the house for days, feeding himself, his brother, and his mother what little food was available. He was too nervous to go outside or go in town for food, afraid someone would know what he had done. As Billy wrote about his house in the book, the placement of the rooms and a well, it dawned on Allison; her house was the house he wrote about.

Electrified by this realization Allison read the book with fast eyes.

Billy counted the money, and it was a big haul close to $20,000.00, he then placed it carefully back in the flour sack with shake hands.

“Whoa, Billy – that is a lot of money! Especially that long ago”.

Allison thought of all the things that money would pay for including the well cost. Maybe if Allison had had that much money her mom could have been healthier too. But Allison didn’t want her thoughts to wander to long and she continued to read. She found herself at the end of the book only by mid-day. The last entry in Billy’s Book was dated June 20, 1908, five days later. The entries in his book had changed so much in a few years. From a hopeful young boy to a young man full of worry, anxiety, and suffering. He never again mentioned happy times with Evelyn or of becoming a writer in the city. By this point, he was eaten with guilt and fear. One morning, fearful of being caught, he finally decided to stash the flour sack under the floor of the kitchen. Allison flipped several more pages but that was all the information she was left with. What happened to Billy? Did he get caught or did he run off? What about his brother and mother? Did he lose his mom in such a painful way too? So many unanswered questions filled her head and made her slightly sick. Then she wondered what happened to the money. Was it still here under the kitchen floors? Surely it had long been discovered or maybe Billy retrieved it?

Her curiosity got the best of her and she nervously got on her hands and knees on the kitchen floor. She frantically examined the current floor. It was a worn-out laminate with cigarette stains, not the wood flooring that Billy described. She went to a corner of the room and with a putty knife, gently pulled up the edge of the laminate flooring to expose old wood plank flooring underneath. Her eyes widened as she realized it was probably the original flooring! Like most of the house, nothing had truly been renovated or replaced in the past century. Then she got to work, cutting, pulling, and peeling old flooring back until she felt she had exposed enough of it. Then using tools and sheer physical might, she pulled up sections of the wood planks as well. Out of breath and hands full of splinters, she resumed looking for the possibility of a fortune in her own home.

With the flashlight on her cell phone, she lit up the space below. At first, all she found were cobwebs and the stench of old crawlspace air. But in the corner, she shown her light and was shocked when it illuminated what looked like a dirty, large sack shoved in-between foundation beams below. She carefully reached down and pulled up the dirty sack and set it on the floor. It was rotting in places and worn out. With her heart racing and her stomach queasy, she opened more of the sack to reveal slightly composting bundles of money. Hands trembling, she reached in to pull out a bundle of the money. The money looked completely different from money used today and had a different feel to it, even the weight of the paper was different.

“This is a gift from above! A miracle!”

If Billy’s story was correct, she now possessed close to $20,000! Tears fell down her cheek and a smile stretched across her face. She almost felt as if she was being pranked. Maybe this house was not a misfortune after all.

Her elation was short-lived, however. After holding this money in her own hands she began to feel anxious again. Worried about Billy, whom she came to know and love through his stories. They could even be relatives seeing as how this house had been in her family for so long. And what about the money? How would she exchange it for money used today and put it in her bank account? Maybe since it is old, it may be worth even more? But how would she answer questions of where it came from? If stolen, she would not be allowed to keep it, would she?

By the time she had finished ruining her kitchen floor, it was past midnight and the forest of crickets and owls again beckoned her to bed.

Allison eventually hid the bag of money in her closet and went to bed. Her mind would not give up on the night that easily though, and thoughts began circulating in her mind. The well would be finished tomorrow with men and trucks arriving early. But this event had shaken her and she did not want to raise suspicion or seem out of sorts. For Allison sleep would never come. She began asking the same questions in her head over and over. Guilt crept into all corners of her mind when she remembered a sheriff was shot, Chester died, and maybe Billy had been hurt as well from this cursed blood money hidden in this house.

As the sun peeked through the windows, Allison heard the dump trunks approaching the gate at the end of the driveway. In a spur-of-the-moment decision, Allison grabbed the sack of money from her closet and threw on some old boots. She ran quickly out the kitchen door to the “Damn well”. After a small moment of hesitation, she threw the sack of money into the pitch-black well waiting until she heard a distant thump as it hit the ground below. She quickly ran back into the house through the kitchen door and heard loud knocks and the doorbell coming from the front of the house. Brushing her hair back and trying to calm herself as she approached the front door, she opened the door to the same Foreman from two days ago.

“Good Morning, M’am. Was just letting you know we finished all the preliminary work the other day and today we’ll fill the well and seal it off for you.”.

Allison hoped her voice did not sound too strained nor did the nervousness show too much on her face.

“Great! Thank you!”.

Allison then went back to the kitchen and sitting at the table with a cup of cold coffee, watched as the well was filled with truckload after truckload of dirt and clay chips. Her heart began to feel lighter and the nervousness melted away.

“Billy boy, your secret is safe with me. If you could not use this money, then neither will I.”.