Curious Little Find

My mother recently passed, and her lawyer had contacted me requesting a meeting regarding her Will. I arrived in the downtown area early and with time on my hands, I decided to wonder around this little bookstore I found tucked back between its towering neighbors; like a child hiding behind its mother. Dust danced in a weak stream of light that ushered me in the door. The musty scent aged books give off comforts me as I peruse the shelves hoping to find something of interest. I happen upon this black, label less, journal. My interest now peaked, I flipped through the pages when I noticed the time. I quickly made my way to the counter to purchase my find and headed out to my meeting.

I sat quietly in a large waiting room, the solitary patron, watching the receptionist periodically pop her head up from behind the desk to glance at me. I’m not completely sure if she is checking on me out of concern or making sure I was not attempting to smuggle something out when a man, in a suit that hung from his frame like a child playing dress up, approached with his hand out.

“You must be Georgia Stone’s daughter, I’m Gerry.” He caught me off guard as I expected a lawyer to be more…intimidating. I jumped to my feet and took his hand in return.

“Yes sir, I’m Kira,” and we stood in an awkward silence for what seemed like years before he spoke again.

“Well, follow me and we’ll try to complete this as quick and painlessly as we can.”

Shaking my head in agreement like a bobble head, I followed him down the hallway to a large corner office consisting mostly of massive glass windows. Instead of the traditional anxiety inducing meeting format, he opted for the couches by the windows; it is amazing how the slightest change of scenery can alter your mood. I was saddened to see the possibility of a magnificent view obliterated by the other towering metal and glass giants but happier than staring at the nauseating accomplishment wall.

“Your mother was a genuinely nice woman,” he lamented.

I fought to keep the tears at bay but quickly lost that battle. “Take your time dear. I get paid by the hour,” as he handed me a tissue.

An uneasy giggle escaped only to be drowned out by my ugly crying once again. “I’m sorry dear, I was just trying to…,” he mumbled then he sat quietly till I recomposed myself.

“I’m sorry and thank you for being patient with me. My dad left before I was born so my mother was all I ever had,” I uttered as I wiped away the mess on my face.

“I understand, it’s hard to lose a loved one,” he said as he pulled a stapled document from a stack sitting on the table between us. “This is a fairly short document Kira, a very basic Will and Testament.”

I gave him a perplexed look. “To be honest sir, I was surprised when you called. We moved constantly looking for cheaper places to live and struggled to put food on the table daily, so an estate of any sort was news to me.”

He slid the document over to me and handed me a pen, “Your mom’s employer offered a free small life insurance policy to all their employees. It wasn’t much but it will cover most of her outstanding medical bills.”

He noticed the glimmer of hope drain from my face. “So how much was…wait I thought her health insurance covered all of that?” I turned to the second page of the will and saw the amounts listed. The insurance policy was fifty thousand and below that the outstanding medical bills at just over fifty-eight thousand.

“I wish I had better news for you Kira, but your mother’s health insurance covered only a portion of her cancer treatments.”

I hesitated briefly then signed the document and handed it back to him. “So, I walk of out of here as empty handed as I walked in?”

He looked up from the document, “Well…I wish it were that easy. I’m afraid you are responsible for the balance of the bill after the insurance pays out.”

I sank into the couch as my brain swam. “I – I don’t have money; I barely make minimum wage, my bills are always late, and my roommate, he takes trades when rent is short which is monthly and extremely demeaning. How am I supposed to pay this too?”

I lingered in a fog as I waited for the train to come to a full stop. The doors parted and I mindlessly drifted in and took a seat in the empty car. The train sped up; scenery blurred past as Gerry’s statement ping ponged in my head. I struggled to return to the present when I noticed the black journal poking out of my purse. I cracked open my curious little find immediately realizing from the handwritten pages that this was wasn’t just a random book but someone’s journal. I managed to find a brief reprieve from thinking about my newly acquired debt to my already overburdened bank account. I flipped through the pages, found an entry and began to read.

July 17, 2020 (1:02am) My insomnia is in full swing this evening and I’ve managed less than 6hrs in the last week. I decided to wonder down to the kitchen to sneak a couple of drinks from one of mom’s vodka bottles in the freezer. I kept the lights off as to not wake mom or dad when I heard the familiar squeak from the garage door. I tiptoed to the corner and saw my dad; his face bloodied, clothes disheveled, and a large black bag in his hand. I watched him take the stairs two at a time and go into their room. I snuck upstairs and put my ear to the door. I could hear dad talking to mom. It was difficult to understand what he was saying but by his tone, he sounded terrified. Suddenly the doorknob jiggled, so I dashed to my room. I cracked the door just enough to see dad going back downstairs and out to the garage. I closed the door gently and crawled into bed. Even though I have a great buzz going now, my brain is occupied with the curious behavior of my dad. The contents of that black bag. Why my dad looked like he had the crap kicked out of him.

I was intrigued by this entry, so I continued to read.

July 18, 2020 (3:47pm) I finally slept. I drank enough before dad’s bizarre midnight entry that I passed out till around 2pm. Mom and dad left a note and will be gone all day. I decided to go out to the garage and see if I could find that bag dad had with him. After searching I finally noticed it tucked up in the rafters and retrieved it. When I opened it, I found it full of hundred-dollar bills. I decided to take some, it won’t be missed. He stole it, so me taking some isn’t wrong either. He probably won’t even notice it’s gone since there is so much. I’m going take this cash to hide it somewhere safe. I’m going to buy some cool things.

Startled by the recorded stop notification over the intercom, I flipped to the next page just to see how long the entry was when I noticed in small characters the address 700 Water Street #A-25 scribbled in the margin among some drawings of flowers and things which were incredibly good but I wonder if it had something to do with hiding the money. Can it really be this easy, the entries seem to be from an oblivious teen so…maybe, I said to myself. Pulling my phone out, I typed the address in the search bar which returned the listing for the aquarium downtown. I looked up to see my stop was next. The train came to a stop and I made my way to the doors and hesitated. I have no plans, if nothing else I can just wonder around and have lunch, I murmured. I stepped back and took the seat by the door. I rode to the stop closet to the aquarium and made my way to the ticket window.

I noticed a bank of lockers as I entered and saw #A-25. I mumbled, This seems far too easy. Nonchalantly, I walked over to the locker and opened it. Not sure what I was looking for, I noticed on the door what looked like a math problem, 39.750680-105.009770=? I fished a pen out and wrote it down on the inside the journal cover. I looked around some more just to make sure I was not missing anything and decided to walk through the aquarium since I had to purchase a ticket anyway. I took a seat at an empty bench in front of the shark tank and knocked this equation around in my brain. I kept trying and just couldn't make sense of it, so I entered it into the search bar on my phone as a last resort and it produced a mapping program that revealed these to be coordinates. Of course, how stupid of me! I said a little too loud because people looked at me funny.

I exited the Aquarium and made my way to the Centennial Gardens about a half-mile away, the location according to the mapping program. I wondered around the flower gardens trying to figure out where I would hide something if I was a teen without being obvious. After about an hour of a frustrating and fruitless search, I dragged myself to a food truck parked on the street and grabbed some lunch. I walked back into the garden and found a quiet place overlooking the River. As I sat on a bench and ate, I looked in the journal for more possible clues. I noticed the flowers on the page matched the flowers around me. Scrutinizing the drawings, I noticed a large vase that matched a vase in the middle of the seating area I was in. I quickly sat my stuff down and went to the center. I looked around and noticed a weird tab against the inside of the vase that seem to almost disappear into the dirt. I tugged on the tab and the whole bunch of flowers moved, I pulled out the flowers and hesitated, then peaked inside. I was flabbergasted! I looked around before retrieving a bag from its hiding place.

I calmly went back to my seat after replacing the plant. I opened the bag again and pulled out a folded piece of paper. A beginning amount of $102,400 dollars was noted, then multiple withdrawals marked out and noted with new, smaller amounts and dates. I could see from the last deduction from the bag was August 22nd, 2020 which happened to be 6 months ago and a balance of $20,000 remained. I stuffed the bag in my purse, gathered my things and caught the next train heading home. As I sat there, my head spinning with what-ifs, I turned to last entry in the journal.

August 23, 2020 (9:58pm) I can hear men yelling at my dad downstairs. I’m scared! I should’ve spent the night at Beth’s like she asked me to. I just heard gun sho

I closed the journal realizing that I had the only proof of the money taken by this kid and sadly her life was over. I felt beyond guilty for profiting this way. I know I should probably turn it in because that is what my mom would have done. She was a good-hearted, honest person but I’m unable to be the same and have every intention of keeping it because I deserve better.

The End.