Finder's Keepers

Her favorite thing about the house she had bought two years after her divorce was the small woods behind it. Sitting in her bedroom, she could look out the window at the trees and imagine she was in the middle of a forest somewhere, secluded and private, instead of in the middle of a suburban neighborhood outside Atlanta.

On beautiful days, when the sky was the same shade of blue as Illinois Octobers where she had grown up, she liked to walk in the woods. There was a little bit of a path, but mostly it was overgrown and she had to stomp down tall weeds and small trees to make her way to the back of the woods. Towards the back, the undergrowth got very thick, with lots of sticker bushes, and she had to ease her way through to the open field that backed the woods.

The open field was fallow land. If she turned left, she could walk to the main road, Oleander, a very windy asphalt road that went up and down two hills, lined with mansions on huge plats of land. Of course, her neighborhood didn't have mansions. Likely the land for her neighborhood had held a mansion that fell into disrepair and was sold with the land, torn down and subdivided. Or, the mansion still existed but on a small lot, with the land sold off to help maintain the big house. If she turned to the right as she came out of her woods, the hill went down to the river.

Standing at the edge of her woods, she closed her eyes and held her face to the sun. When the warmth turned to heat, she decided to go back to the house instead of down to the river, but cut to the right side of her property, the opposite of the way she normally went. She found a long stick, perfect for a walking stick, and picked it up. She brushed the dirt from it and tested it out.From outside the woods, it was hard to see how many trees were in there, or how big they were, but inside the woods, it was easy to see there were many small thin pine trees, and a few huge oaks. She noticed an oak with a low branch that looked climbable and veered towards it. It was massive, and the low branch was only about seven feet off the ground. As she got closer, she got a glimpse of brown where the branch joined the tree trunk. She approached, and saw that it was, of all things, a package of some sort, wrapped in brown paper. She poked it with her walking stick, and it fell onto the ground.

The package was tied with string, and had no markings at all. She flipped it with the stick-the other side had “Finders, keepers” written in cursive. It looked to have been in the tree through a couple of rain storms but was in pretty good condition. She guessed it had been put in the tree in the last few months. But who would put a package in a tree on her property, and why? She studied it thoughtfully without picking it up, trying to decide what to do with it. She gave it a kick; it was solid and didn't rattle or make any noises. It was about the size of a very large book but didn't seem as heavy as a book. “Finders, keepers”? This was very odd.

Finally, she picked up the package and finished her walk back to the house. She set the package on her workbench in the garage and stood looking down at it. She debated with herself briefly about opening it, then grabbed the package knife off the bench and used the razor blade to slice the string. She slid it across the package and peeled back the paper. Inside was a wooden pine box. It looked as if it had been built by somebody as a high school shop project. It was finished, but looked a little off kilter. The cover had decorations burned into it, a floral motif with vines and leaves. The vines were entwined a single word: Love. She didn’t see any hinges or hardware on the box, so she assumed she could just slide the top off. She shook the box lightly. Nothing rattled or moved inside. Maybe it was empty, although it felt heavier than it should be.

Her phone rang. She answered it and, leaving the box on her workbench, stepped outside the garage. It was her daughter.

“Hi, mom, whatcha doing?” Her daughter had moved away to live with her boyfriend and didn’t call often so she was happy to hear her voice.

“I’m good. Just went for a walk in the woods, and found the strangest thing. There was a package in one of my trees.”

“What, like a bomb?”

“No, just a package wrapped in brown paper that said “Finders, keepers” on it.”

“Oh, that’s weird.”

“Yes, I was just opening it. It’s a wood box with flowers and the word love burned into the top of it.”

“Huh?”

“I know. I don’t know what to make of it.”

“What’s inside the box?”

“I don’t know – I haven’t opened it yet.”

“Well open it while I’m on the phone.”

“OK.” She set the phone down on the workbench and turned on the speaker so she could continue talking to her daughter. “Here goes.”

She slid open the top. Inside was a purple foam liner. She lifted it. Nestled in cut out foam was a large, ornate heavy brass key attached to a brass keyring with a circular tab imprinted with the number 1111. A manila envelope had been sandwiched between the two pieces of foam.

“Oh,” she exclaimed. “What is this?”

“What is it?” Asked her daughter.

“It’s a key and an envelope.”

“What? Open the envelope.”

She was already pinching the metal tabs to lift the tab on the back of the envelope. She shook out the contents. There was a folded piece of lined white notebook paper and some official looking documents of some sort.

She unfolded the paper and read to her daughter. “Dear finder: Congratulations! This is a key to the house at 1111 Oleander, the original estate that sat on all the property where the tree where you found this package sits. Over time, all of the family who lived here has passed away, leaving me, the last of our line. I could have sold the house, but it didn’t feel right and I don’t need the money. I decided to give it away to whomever finds the key. That must be you! The taxes for the property have been paid for the next twenty years. The house has a well and septic system, and has been converted to solar energy so the cost to live there should be relatively low. You are free to do whatever you like with the house, except sell it. Attached is a deed and legal documentation that you may need. A business card for my attorney is also enclosed and you may call and ask their office any questions. I thought I should let the universe decide what happens to it. It is a house that came from love and was loved, and I’m wishing you much love and happiness, M. Sherrill.”

“Mom, you found a free house in the woods?”

“This can’t be real. Somebody is playing a prank on me.”

“Who would do that? Did somebody know you would find the package in that tree?”

“I’ve never even noticed that tree until today.”

“Then it can’t be a joke. Hang up and call the lawyer.”

She did. The lawyer explained that his eccentric client had wished for her property to be given away, and had specified that the box should be hidden in a tree in her family’s former woods for somebody to find. After her death a few months ago, somebody from the attorney’s office had carried out her wishes. He explained that the house was in great condition, and ready to move in. She could not sell it, but she could live there, or gift it to family members or to the community.

She ended the call. Her mind was racing. She needed to look at this house. Although she had been up and down Oleander hundreds of times in the couple of years she had lived there, she didn’t recall seeing an 1111 Oleander. She drove up her street and turned right, and there it was, the first driveway on the right. Of course, if it had formerly belonged with the woods behind her house, it made sense it would sit at the edge of the woods. The house wasn’t visible from the street, so she turned in to the gravel driveway and followed it around a gentle curve. She stopped. The house took her breath away. It was set in the woods, on top of a hill looking over the river.

It was two stories, built from white brick with a wide veranda across the front. It didn’t look huge, but as she pulled up, she noticed that it went back a long way. Ivy twined up columns on the veranda, with closed up morning glories hiding their shy flowers until dawn. She parked and went to the front door and used the heavy key to turn the deadbolt. The front door opened onto shiny dark wood floors. The entry way was huge, with a sweeping staircase going up both sides of the hallway. Everything smelled clean and fresh. Rooms opened off both sides of the central hallway, furnished with beautiful antiques, all the way down to a bright kitchen she could see at the back of the house. She walked back to the kitchen, and behind the house was a garden with a swimming pool; off the kitchen was a screened-in porch which she had always wanted. The view out the back of the house was stunning. The house was, if she was being honest with herself, her dream house. Everything about it was perfect for her, except the size.

If she had a large house, though, her family could live with her or have plenty of room when they visited. She could host family events. She could even host community events, like an Easter Egg Hunt. She envisioned herself in the house, and knew the decision was already made. She called her daughter.

“I’m moving. If you want it, you can have my old house.”

“Mom, are you sure?”

“Yes. Time to come home.”

“Let me talk to my boyfriend.” Her daughter hung up exclaiming, “Hun, you’re not going to believe this . . .”

She smiled. She already knew that they would accept. They lived in a tiny apartment in the small town where they had gone to college and met. A free house would be a dream. If they wanted, they could even sell it and live here with her – there was plenty of room!

At home, later that night, as she always did, she opened her nightstand drawer and took out the index cards with her dreams and vision for the future written on them. Each night, she read through these and put them into her mind to manifest them. She shuffled through until she found one that said, “I own a house with a beautiful view of the sky.” The next one said, “Purchase a home for my daughter so she can start her future without going into debt.” She read through the rest and decided that, yes, the universe was truly a magical place, and her other dreams would be coming. She went to sleep with a smile on her face and peace in her heart, and sent a thank you to M. Sherrill into the universe for doing her part to keep magic alive.