Casey's Magic Box

The most unnerving summer of my life started off so simply. It’s the middle of June back in ’87 and I was living on my own. Times were difficult and I made my living pulling two dead end jobs to barely afford an apartment I shared with two others. I was returning home after a double at dead end job number two, a dishwasher making one of the smaller links in the great Melvin’s Diner restaurant chain. Reaching the third and final level of the complex, a feat that seemed impossible from the ground, I turned down our hall to see what would cause the start of it all; a small, brown box at the door.

The package was roughly the size of a shoebox, with no name or address. I gently moved it back and forth, listening carefully like a kid at Christmas but it seemed empty. It was light for its size and entirely blank. Resolving to be a good roommate I brought it in with me, placing it on the kitchen counter and dismissing it. I had more important matters, first to wash off the day, and second to get something to eat.

After the shower had sufficiently removed any remaining traces of work I left my room to see one of my two roommates, Lisa, staring at the box I had brought in with fascination. I gave a cursory nod as I walked around and retrieved a frozen dinner from the freezer, placing it into our microwave and watching the timer tick away. Lisa for her part seemed unaware I was even in the room until the faint beep of the timer went off, shaking her from her thoughts.

“Hey Casey, work go okay?” She still didn’t remove her eyes from the box.

Mouthful of food, I nodded, watching her with one raised brow. “Same old same old.”

I gestured toward the box as she continued to look at it. “I hope you don’t mind I brought that in for you, I didn’t want anyone to take it before you got home.”

At that, she finally looked up, confused. “This isn’t mine though, I thought it was yours.” “No not mine, must be Michael’s.” Meal finished and box mystery solved, I prepared to head back to my room for what was left of a night’s sleep. I squeezed by Lisa on my way when she held the box out to me.

“How do you open it though?”

“What do you mean?”

“There…there aren’t any seams. Its just a solid box, there’re no seams in the paper.”

Confused, I took it from her, turning it in the gentle glow of the kitchen light. “There must be one somewhere, are you sure?”

Rather than respond she kept quiet, gesturing toward the box. I examined it, looking then feeling along it surface.

She was right. There was no way of opening it, it seemed, no evidence that it was anything but a solid object, yet too light to not be hollow. Exhausted I just shrugged, walking over to our other roommate’s door and setting the package down right outside.

“Beats me, Lisa. It must be some new manufacturing method? Ask Michael if you see him, I need to get some sleep before I head in tomorrow.”

She nodded, giving a small wave as I left. I glanced back as I closed the door to see her still standing there, looking at the box where it sat on the floor.

The next day I emerged from my room, borderline late as usual. The smell of coffee coming from our kitchen shook off the last vestiges of sleep, and I offered a pleased smile and muttered good morning to my other roommate Michael.

Michael was in my opinion the oddest of the three of us. Not a bad guy by any means, he tended to keep to himself, rarely leaving his room except to go out to…wherever it is he went to. Honestly I didn’t know much about him, Lisa knew even less, but he helped with the rent and didn’t make a lot of noise and those were two admirable traits in any roommate. He was currently nursing a still steaming cup of coffee and I poured my own cup, taking time I didn’t have to slowly sip and enjoy it.

“Did you see the package we left you?”

He glanced up, dark eyes behind thick-framed glasses, closing the magazine heh ad been reading. “No, I didn’t see it. I don’t think I ordered anything.”

“I put it right outside your door.” I looked over confused to see the package was missing.

“I didn’t order anything,” he repeated, looking annoyed at having to repeat himself. “Ask Lisa.”

He stood and left, returning to his own room, the door closing and cutting off my reply. Lisa didn’t order anything either. I began to look around for it, confused, but the clock showed borderline late was now late, and I snatched up my belongings and keys and ran out the door, trying to create excuses as I went.

The day passed in a blur, my manager at Lucky Saver mart mercifully running later than myself. Before I knew it I was punching out and heading for the nearest bus stop, thinking of my day off this weekend. I managed to snag a seat on the bus, a rare occurrence, and with that small victory the ride home went uneventfully.

Traipsing up the steps to the apartment once more I entered to see Michael and Lisa watching television. It was Tuesday night, and we usually watched shows together. I greeted each of them and went to my room to change, something catching my eye as I turned to the closet. There on the bed was the box.

My good mood vanished. The innocuous package sat there as if it belonged, and at this point I was more annoyed than anything else. Which of my roommates had put it here? I finished changing and brought it out with me to the living area.

“Ok guys, who put this in my room?” I gently shook the box, surprised when it rattled. Lisa looked confused, shaking her head, and Michael did the same, trying to glance around me at the tv.

Lisa looked at him. “Isn’t the box yours Michael? I thought you had it in your room.”

He shook his head, still trying to look around me. “No, I told Casey this morning. It’s not mine.”

Lisa just looked at me and shrugged. “Sorry Casey, I don’t know.” Fed up I took it into the kitchen, ready to be done with this. I grabbed a knife from the drawer and stabbed the box, cutting it open with ease and tearing at the seam I had made. I dumped its contents, surprised by my find. Roughly thirteen dollars in coins and bills sat on the counter. My roommates glanced over at the clatter of the coins and I showed them the small handful of money, my uneasiness growing.

“It… it was empty yesterday.”

Lisa looked alarmed as well, Michael still uninterested as he glanced at the money then back at the tv. “Well if it’s not your box I’ll gladly take the money.”

I shook my head. “No, you don’t understand, this was empty when we found it. On top of that, there isn’t any way to open it without leaving a sign because it doesn’t have any way to open.”

Taking the box to him he went through the same process I had, before handing it back with a frown.

“Look, I don’t get the joke but it’s not funny.” With that he simply ignored me once more, turning to watch his show. Lisa looked every bit as shocked as I was, but with no answer to the question in my eyes she simply turned away.

Frustrated, I left them and took the box outside with me, walking to the complex’s dumpster and tossing it inside. I slowly made my way back, confused and angry despite having just received a sizable amount of funds for back then. On my return I simply went back to my own room, in no mood for company.

Two weeks later I returned home from job number one and found the package there again; same brown box, the only change was there were no signs of the damage I had dealt. I don’t know why I brought it inside but I placed it gently on the counter. Lisa came out of her room to greet me and when she saw it she froze. “Casey, where did you get that?”

“It was just outside,” I replied, the disbelief evident in my voice. “It came back.”

Michael came in about a half hour later to see us still in the kitchen, glancing at the box again. He finally gave it a hard look, turning it over, rattling it, which produced no sound, before tossing it on the counter. Without a word he shook his head and left. I glanced at my friend and, scared, placed it under the sink, out of sight and mind.

When I returned the next day, another evening at job number two, I opened my bedroom to see the box had moved once more, now rattling when shook. I ripped it to pieces this time, dumping the contents and tossing the container out the window. I put the money in the kitchen, wanting nothing to do with it. Lisa was in the living room once again, saw the money, and gave me a hug as I walked back, a silent comfort. I had trouble going to sleep that night, knowing it would return again.

Only a week went by before it did. I had created a poor plan by then involving my squeaking closet door, placing the box inside, hoping I wouldn’t hear it in the night. Despite my nerves I slowly drifted to sleep.

The door woke me, its annoying squeal shaking me from my slumber and I sat bolt upright in the bed. Flipping on the light, I turned to see that the box was now in the middle of my floor, motionless, but having moved nonetheless.

I was beyond questioning how this was possible. Slipping on a robe, I simply picked up the box, a pair of sandals, and a lighter we kept for candlelight in the event of a power outage. Box in hand I made my way back to the complex’s dumpster, placing it on the ground beside the bin. My hand shook so badly at first I didn’t think I would be able to light it but eventually I did, and as the box began to burn it also began to scream. It shook and moved, sliding across the pavement, and I took several steps back, slipping and landing roughly on the ground, the wind knocked out of me. The box burned brighter and higher, the horrid shrieking reaching a crescendo, until every last bit of it was consumed and left behind was a horrid, burned thing, its baleful eyes glaring at me. I would have screamed if I could, but the thing in the box simply left, moving with supernatural speed as it scrambled away.

In the following months things began to return to normal, the incident forgotten by my friends. I had dared to hope the event was over until one night I noticed some of my change was missing. Times were still tight and I knew I hadn’t misplaced it. Someone, some thing had taken it. I never told Lisa what had happened that night with the box but when I asked her to move to a new apartment with me she agreed. It’s been years since ’87, but to this day the sight of a package at my door fills me with dread because sometimes…sometimes things come back