THE PERFECT TREASURE

As a child, I wondered why I differed so much from the man I believed to be my father. I did not understand why I had such feelings. After all, no one ever told me anything which would cause doubt. But, I wondered, how a father could be so mean and abusive to his son? Why would he beat me and cause me fear being alone with him? We shared no common interests of anything. I wanted to go to school, and he wanted me to work in the fields. He believed in farming and was illiterate to the point he could not sign his name. He made an “X”.

One day when I was 13, I had a fever and stayed inside while the rest of the family went to the fields to tend our North Carolina tobacco farm. When I walked by my mom’s bedroom to get a glass of water, my eyes glimpsed her storage trunk, which was normally always locked, but today the latch appeared open. The curiosity about the contents over took my thoughts, and I could not stop myself from snooping. When I opened the top, I immediately found a little black notebook. I paused for a minute, held my breath, and nervously opened to the first page. It read, “Someday son, you will see this book. I hope you will come to understand why I never explained to you that your father is actually your step dad. I am too embarrassed while I am living to speak to you about this”. 

I suppose many kids would be shocked, perhaps devastated, to read those words. I was not. In fact, I became overwhelmed with instant joy to learn I was not related to him. Even at thirteen, I had formed plans to always be a better person than he.

As I hurriedly turned the pages, I discovered Richardson was an adopted name; and mom had me out of wedlock. It was so sad reading her pain and hurt, and then to make matters worse, she wasn’t exactly sure who the actual father had been. According to Mom's writing, she was attempting to escape farm life and often attended USO dances in hopes to meet the right World War II hero to take her away. A genuine white knight.

I anxiously read that there were two possibilities for my actual father. One described as a handsome marine named Talmadge (Tab) Key. The other was an Italian soldier whose name my mom had listed as A. Saviano.

I was so engrossed in reading the book I almost did not hear the family returning and came close to getting caught as I quickly put the book away. Unfortunately, the chest never appeared unlocked again, and I never got black to the chest again. I also never mentioned, or confided to my mom, I had partially seen her secret black book. 

Four years did not pass fast enough, because at 17 allowed a parent to sign and agree to their child’s military enlistment. I counted the days. I chose the Navy to escape home life because their slogan was to join and see the world. Our Nation was at War but to me, the military seemed a better option than another day at my home. My stepfather was content to sign his “X” on the enlistment papers, and away I went.

Now 22 years old, surviving the War, I became a police officer. Not much later, I met a girl going to college in my town named Barbara. Barbara came from a strict Christian family and her father had searched for a boarding house their daughter could room at where the owner would share the same values. They found such a home, and that is where she was living when I started dating her. That home had another female staying there whose last name was “Key’s”. Barbara and the Keys girl became roommates.

Some six months later, the owner of the boarding house became deathly sick and asked all the residents to move out. I told Barbara’s parents that I would help them find a new boarding home with their shared values. So as it was the parents, myself, Keys Girl, and Barbara started quite a search. It was challenging to fit all the requirements necessary to please her parents- into such a home.

Almost out of leads and places, there appeared a new ad that sounded promising. Barbara and I went to inquire and immediately knew this boarding home was the place we were seeking. The lady’s name that owned the home was Clara Goodman, and she was so nice. She said that she took care of her mother who was bedridden and lived upstairs and if that was not an issue Barbara and her roommate were welcome. Barbara’s parents were beyond impressed, so the deal was closed with Clara. Barbara and the Keys girl moved in and were thrilled with the new place.

One month later, I received a call from Barbara. She said, “I need you to come over–Clara wants to speak to you.” When I arrived at the boarding home, Barbara said that Clara and she were speaking when Clara asked what Barbara's roommate’s last name was. Barbara said it was Keys. Clara then offered before she was married, her last name was KEY. Barbara told Clara that it’s possible Steve’s surname was KEY. 

Clara asked me if I knew what Key’s first name was?

I said, “Talmadge.” They called him “Tab.”

Clara responded, “Tab is my brother.” My last name became Goodman when I married. Astonished I became to realize that Clara could be my blood aunt and her mother upstairs was my grandmother!

I could not be 100% sure, as in the book my mom wasn’t sure either.

Sometime later, Talmadge came up from Florida to see his dying mom and Clara called me over. I was on Police duty so I couldn’t stay long. It was awkward meeting him because I didn’t know for sure-I assumed he didn’t know either. We had some resemblance, but not enough to be certain. We said a few things to each other like it’s a nice day, but nothing specific concerning our relationship. I got a call on the radio about some disturbance and I left the meeting not over 5 minutes after greeting him. That meeting was the one and only time we ever saw each other. We never met again.

My mom during her life never talked about this to me. No others in the family would either. Every birth certificate I requested came to me on a small green card stating I was a Richardson- and other than a birthdate there was no other information on the issued card. No mother name-no father name-just a certified seal with the Richardson name. 

My mom was a woman with little means. She worked all her life in the fields, which did not reward her with more money than to live on and to buy supplies for the next year’s crop. That’s why when she passed, I was surprised by her will. She left me Twenty Thousand Dollars, a sealed letter, and a little black book!

The book explained some new things, but not much. Mostly it had continued with her love and emotions of her life. I wish they were happy remembrances, but mostly they were not. According to the end of the book, I was her one joy. That made me smile with pride.

However, the letter was the real shocker! It turned out Tab Key contacted my mother after the meeting we had. He told Mom that he had done well in life and on the chance that he was the father he wanted to send her money for raising me. He had not known about any of this situation until Clara informed him. Clara also mentioned to him we both had similar traits, and she was pretty sure, her gut told her, he was my father. Clara never told me this.

Tab sent twenty thousand, and my mom never spent or took a penny. She simply left it all in the will.

In my forties, when I received the money, I was teaching at a school for underprivileged children. I loved those kids and after speaking with my wife we donated half of the money for school supplies such as notebooks, pencils, and other needed items. It was a blessing for all of us. Mom would have been proud to know how some of the money was used.

I am now in my seventies and recently completed a DNA test, but there were no close matches. All DNA matches were 3rd or 4th cousins with many names, but none that I recognized other than on my mother’s side who were real distant. However, all that changed when I received an email from a “Talmadge Key” that we had matched up as half-brothers. Holy Cow!

Soon we were on the phone and shared information. Turns out that they named him after our father and that we had other half brothers and sisters as well. Tab (as he goes by) only lives a couple of hours away and he and his lovely wife came to visit and we talked for hours and hours. I am certain we could have continued as I hope we do in the future., I learned of our father’s death along with one sister and one brother. There are three others that are alive.

My only regret now is I wished I could have been certain all those years ago, so I could have gotten to know the ones that have passed. I am super ecstatic and delighted that those remaining and I may have the chance to get to know each other now and have lasting family bonds.