The Stone Box

Knock Knock Knock

When I opened the front door, there was a person from the Water Company. He showed me an ID card with his picture and name on it.

Then, as he handed me a piece of yellow paper he said,” Sorry, ah Mr. Stigers, but you have used too much water and we think there is a leak. I turned off the water. You now need a statement from a contractor stating the main is okay before we will turn it back on again.”

Then he left me standing there stunned.

After a minute or so I found my voice and I said, “Kim, we just lost the water. Now what the hell do we do?”

“Let me talk to Anthony. He is a contractor.”

After she called her son-in-law, Kim said, “Mark, it’s not good. Anthony says the water main must be brought to current standards. Most likely the old main is a total loss. He says he will have it looked at in the morning. He also said be ready, it could cost Thirty Thousand bucks. We may have to have a new trench dug to the deeper standard.”

I wanted to cry. I just sat there for a few minutes to absorb what was happening.

In two days, they were cutting a new trench for the water main. It would be three more days without water. The rock saw that was cutting the new trench made a horrible racket as it cut through the lava flows of the Tucson Mountains.

“How much longer will this noise be going on,” I asked the lead man?

“Another two hours or so,” He said, “Look, I’m going to have to ask you to stay clear while we dig. The insurance will not cover non-employees that get hurt.”

I went back to the computer and tried to do some writing. I was working on a story entitled, “Pure Spite” about a guy who destroys all the electronics on Earth using the monster from Tesla’s Colorado Springs Experiments. The thing about this story was that it could really be done. The noise was driving me nuts.

“I wish that clamor would stop! I cannot think,” I said out loud, but no one could hear me above the din.

Suddenly there was silence.

I said, “Damn I should have wished for a billion dollars.”

Then one of the workers shouted, “El Jefe! Come quickly!”

I got up to see what had happened. The saw had cut into a heavy stone slab and several of the teeth had been sheared off. The crew was talking in Spanish about how expensive it was going to be to fix the damaged saw. I looked at the slab. It was the top to some sort of old stone box. It was like a Drone had flown into the past and dropped off a piece of history on my doorstep. When the workers pulled the saw out of the trench. You could see that the large box had some sort of image on the exposed surface. One of the workers brushed off some dirt to get a better look at exactly what it was. A set of eyes stared at you from the top surface.

Then he jumped back and said, “Anasazi!”

He crossed himself, and quickly backed away. Everybody stopped working.

I said, “Hey, what is going on here? Pull that thing up and let’s see it.”

The Lead said, “What you got here is now a potential historical Indian site, it will have to be excavated by the U of A and the Tohono O'odham Indians to be evaluated for possible historic content. I’d stay clear if I were you. The fine for disturbing a historic Indian site is substantial. If this cost me my contractor’s license, I’m going to be pissed off. Tell no one what has happened here. You could be arrested for destruction of a heritage site.”

I said, “What about the water main?”

He said, “Yeah, that’s on hold until we get cleared by the U of A.”

“How long is that going to take!” I said, “I have no water here!”

The lead said, “It’s going to be awhile. The excavation could take a year after whenever they start.”

“What!”

“No, it gets better, if they deem it a Heritage Site, they will condemn the property and take it from you. Up shot, we never get paid when this happens.”

“What, they can take my house,” I said even louder?

“Yeah, but that’s not the worst,” he said.

“What could be worse than them taking the house,” I said?

The Guy just smiled and said, “Many report that, once an Anasazi site is disturbed, something is awaken and is usually not happy about being troubled by the living.”

I said, “Sorry, I don’t believe in ghosts.”

The guy agreed with me and said, “I know once you’re dead, that is it. It’s over. No one is getting up and walking around after they are dead.”

We both laughed, and he walked away.

I walked back in the house and Kim said, “Mark why is everybody leaving?”

“We are so screwed,” I said, “What do you know of the Anasazi?”

“They were an ancient Indian tribe. First seen in the American southwest around 1200 BCE. Anasazi is a Navajo word translated as “The Ancient Foreigners.” According to legend, they were brought here in ships. It’s interesting, because there is no Sea faring devices nor Sea references in any Anasazi site. They made the cliff dwellings of the four corners area and had an extensive road system. They were astronomers and studied the sky. The evidence suggests that suddenly they all just disappear. They are very mysterious. The local Indians, the Tohono O'odham, are leery of their sites and will not go near one. There is always an alien connection to every site. It is a bane to discover one. They say the Anasazi ghost will never leave you alone until you are gone. What does this have to do with the water main Mark?”

“Let me show you,” I said as I led her to the trench and the mysterious stone box. She started to clear the strange red clay that seemed to cover the large box.

“No, stop Kim,” I said, “The Lead said there is a big fine to disturb a heritage site.”

“Bull shit! I’m going to find out about this stupid stone box that ruined our lives.”

I got my iPhone and took pictures of her as she uncovered the whole box. The image on the top was bizarre. I could not tell how the image was made. There were no tool marks, no burns, no imperfections. It was engraved in the smooth surface. I had never seen anything like it.

Was it wearing a helmet? It looked back over its shoulder at you. The enigmatic eyes saw into your soul. The unusual figure was in a doorway. They beckon to you to come with them through the door.

The stone box had very sharp edges. The corners came to perfect points. There was no seam, but when you knocked on it, it made a hollow sound. Once freed from the red clay, it was incredibly light. We took it to the shop. When I tried to drill a hole in it, the titanium bit would not scratch it.

I had made an RF imager to see into the lava flows of our property. It was crude but could be set to take thin sectional scans. Then a program could assemble a 3D image of what was in the box from the scans. To form an image, it would take about sixteen hours to scan, then process the image. I started the scan. By six in the morning that part was done. Now, for my slow home computer to process the array of numbers into an image, that would take about six more hours. The box sat on my workshop floor. I pushed it under the bench and covered it with a mover’s blanket. All I could do was wait.

At eight, I watched on the security system a car from the U of A pull into the driveway. A girl got out of the car and put on a white paper clean suit. Then she walked over to the trench. She took one look around and could see that something had been removed. Then she came to the front door.

I opened it before she could knock.

She glared at me and said, “Mr. Stigers, where is the box?”

From behind me, Kim said, “What box?”

She said, “The box from the trench that was so obviously removed. There are two sets of red clay footprints that lead to your door.”

Kim said, “We have no idea what you are talking about.”

“I’m talking about your one chance to produce the box with no problems,” the girl said.

I said, “Are you sure you are at the right place?”

“Very well, if that is the way you want it, then fine.” she said, got into her car, and left.

I said, “You know she’s going to come back.”

Kim said, “Yeah, F her. They are screwing up our lives, let’s screw up theirs’s for a while. Lock it up tight. Let’s go out for the day.”

As we went to the car, I thought I saw a young child run around the corner. When I looked there was nothing and we left. We went to a breakfast joint and ordered eggs, hash browns, toast and coffee. As we waited for our meal, I checked the security cams. The damn front door was standing wide open. I showed Kim my phone.

I said, “Oh hell, I could have sworn the damn door was locked.”

Kim said, “I checked it. It was locked.”

It was then the waitress brought us our orders. We quickly ate, paid the bill, and went back to the house. I walked up to the front door and started to close it, when I heard something fall in the shop. I grabbed the oak ax handle that hung by the door and went in to investigate. Every drawer in my parts organizer was open. A drawer of finishing nails was on the floor and the mover’s blanket had fallen off the stone box. I heard a child’s giggle behind me. I turned, but nothing was there. I heard a noise in our bedroom.

When I got to the room, it was distressing to see all the drawers of the dresser were open. Our underwear and socks were thrown on the floor. I gripped the ax handle tight. Then I heard a sound in the front room. Quietly I went to look. I about jumped out of my skin when Kim came around the corner.

“What the hell is taking you so long,” she said?

I lowered the ax handle and said, “I think there is a kid in the house.”

We heard a glass crash and shatter on the floor of the kitchen. I got a cold shot of adrenalin when we got there. All the cabinet doors were open, but it was the grubby child that scared me. He was wearing a loincloth. His face had dark red paint around his strange big eyes. His mouth, nose, and chin were too small. His bulbous head was miss shaped and too large. His hands only had three fat fingers that gripped a wooden spear. He moved wrong as he sprung into the dining room. When we got there, he was gone. Kim and I looked at each other but said nothing.

I jumped when a voice said, “Mr. Stigers! I’m back. Would you and your wife please come and talk to the nice police officer.”

It was that girl from the U of A. We went to the front door. She had a U of A police officer with her.

The big officer said, “Sir, where is the box that was reported to us by Saguaro Engineering?”

“We don’t know what you are talking about,” I said.

“You either, Ma’am,” he said?

Kim said, “Nope! What box?”

“Very well, you are both under arrest,” he said, “Put your hands behind your backs please.”

“You can’t arrest us,” I said.

“Yes, I can,” he said, “And I will also have child welfare come and take your grandchild that ran from the front door when we got here, too. I’m sure they will want to know why he is so dirty and has a spear.”

I said, “The kid broke into our house. We have no idea who the child is.”

There was a loud noise from the shop. It sounded like my parts organizer fell from the shelf and a thousand screws, nails, and small electronic components were now scattered across the floor.

“Who else is here,” the cop from the U of A said.

“No one,” I said.

“Look we have a warrant to search the place. Stand aside.”

The cop went into the shop. The floor was covered with the parts from my organizer. The stone box was in the middle of the floor.

When the girl saw it, she said, “That’s it.”

Before she touched it, she stared at the image on the top of the stone box.

“That is incredible,” she said, “Take the box to the car.”

They were fixated on the box. When I looked up, the child was standing in the doorway. He seemed to vanish as I reached to grab him. I was struck with an odd feeling, and I shivered.

“Did you see that,” I said?

Kim nodded her head then went to her things and got the ghost talker and the EMF meter from her spook hunting kit. She turned them on. The EMF meter was going crazy.

“Is there anybody here?” she said, “You can talk to us on this device.”

An eerie voice said, “Leave alone. Box back. Sleep.”

Kim said, “Who are you?”

The disturbing moan made my soul quiver.

“Alone. Back. Sleep,” the creepy voice said.

The girl said take the stone box to the car.

The big cop said, “Oh hell no. I ain’t touching that thing. I’ll be in the car waiting for you.”

With that the cop left.

She said, “Then I’ll get it.”

She could not move the box.

The moan made me shiver, but when the voice said, “Alone,” I was struck by the pleading tone.

The girl tried to move the box in several directions, but it would not budge. Frustrated, she left in a huff.

“I’ll be back,” she said.

Kim said, “What do you think we should do?”

I said, “We can’t put it back where it was, it’s in the way of the water main.”

“Let’s find it a new place on the property and bury it with an apology. Then hope it goes back to sleep,” Kim said.

After a quick look around, we picked a spot. I had the strangest feeling we were being watched as we picked the new site and dug a hole for the box. The question was by who?

When it came time to get the box, it would not budge.

“Oh, come on,” I said, “We are going to take you to a new spot where you can rest as long as you want undisturbed.”

It let me pick it up, and I took it to the hole. When I placed it down in the ground, it did not feel right. I turned it to where it was orientated to the points of the compass, and it then felt right. I buried it and we later made a simple shrine. We left a stuffed animal that a young child might sleep with every equinox.

The image inside the box revealed it was a young child in a fetal position. Its head was strangely large and misshapen. It had three fingers and toes on each appendage. The legs and feet were the same as the arms and hands. How it got in the box I have no idea.