The Walnut box
I looked at my watch mid stride, not slowing for a moment as I walked over the concrete sidewalk. The busy street held none of my interest today, or the shop windows that beckoned at my right side. Five more minutes and I would be late for my interview. I am one of those people who hate to be late. Most times when faced with an appointment of any kind I would arrive at least five minutes before, if not the more pleasing ten. Being late affects me, not like other people, I have asked many and it seems I am rare in this. My heart begins to race, my palms sweat, and my breathing becomes short and flagging. I have heard that this is what some would call a typical panic attack.
I start to run. Better to get there sweaty then to get there late, well it was in my book anyway. The building wasn’t far I was beginning to think I would make it.
Ooooffff I had run into someone and now we were both on the ground trying to untangle our limbs and regain our upright position. I looked down at the person I had become entangled with and was shocked. He could not have been more then four feet tall. Short cropped white hair danced in the wind above his crown and not far off was a turquoise corduroy hat almost like those liked by golfers, but not quite the same style. I picked this off of the pavement, and took his hand heaving him upwards, trying to stay on my feet lest we would again be in the same predicament. I succeeded. I was now a foot and two inches above him. I looked down at him while giving him his hat.
“It’s you!” He said. His intense blue eyes never wavered from mine. I noticed with some humor that his eyebrows had gone past the bushy point some years earlier and now were positively hedge like.
“What do you mean ‘It’s you’?” I asked.
“You are just the one I was looking for. I have something for you.” Something about his eyes made me feel dreamy. I wondered if this is what people felt like just before they fainted.
“I don’t even know you. Why would you have something for me?” I was shaking my head in astonishment. Perhaps his eyebrows weren’t the only thing hedgy about this man.
“Ah but I do. Kindness is a rare thing you know, and you are one of the few who understand what it takes from us in order to give to others. You have proven yourself again and again.” Was that a twinkle in his eye? Nah it couldn’t have been. Nobody’s eyes actually twinkled, it was just something someone long ago said and it had caught on.
I didn't think of myself as being kind. I helped out…sure but was that the same thing as being kind? I didn’t think so. Helping out just came natural to me, if something needed to be done and I had a way to do it then it was done. No questions asked, no recognition wanted, I believed in Karma just as many did. You received and you gave, nothing new there.
“Here I want you to have this. I am sure you will like it.” He held out a wooden box. To me it looked like something quite expensive, walnut or mahogany perhaps. It was about the size of my jewelry box at home.
“I can’t take that from you, I feel as though I don’t deserve it.”
“You do deserve it, more then many. You have shown yourself to be compassionate, and considerate of others. I will have no more talk of it. It is yours.”
I looked down at the box in my hand, on the top of the box I could see strange symbols on a gold plaque. It looked to me like some sort of calligraphy. Tentatively I held my fingers to it and felt the inscription. It didn’t mean anything to me and for some reason it didn’t seem to matter.
“I don’t know what to say.”
“Don’t say anything, but when you are finished with the box, you must pass it on. It is only right that you do so.” A wide smile was on his face and his eyes lit up even more. Either from the mystery or from the memory of when he first received the box, I didn’t know which.
“How will I know who to give it to?” I asked.
“Watch those around you and you will know when it is time. The box sometimes has a voice of its own, a somewhat pleasant experience.”
This gave me the creeps. Had this strange man been following me and watching what I had been doing, where I had been going and with whom?
“No, no it’s not like that.” He seemed to read the dismay on my face. “You will just know when you have found the right person, like I knew when we collided.”
“Okay.” Not sure what he was talking about, but then this had been the most peculiar meeting in the first place had it not?
“The only thing is you can’t open the box until seven o’clock.”
“What?” Damn, I thought with the mention of time remembering the time, and my interview. “I have to run! I have an interview for a job and I am already late!”
I began again to run down the street waving at the curious little man. Soon I was at the end of the street and around the corner.
Later that night I thought about the interview. I had arrived twelve minutes late but was relieved to find that the interviews were at least another twenty minutes later. I was able to fix myself and calm down before I had gone in. They had promised to call me within two weeks if I was a successful candidate, the usual don’t call us we will call you shite.
I crossed the room to my purse and stubbed my toe on something hard. How could I have forgotten the box? How could I have not tried to open it? Weren’t women wicked curious cats? My mother thought so, especially at Christmas time. I sucked air through my teeth begging the pain in my smallest right toe to ease. When it did and I felt I could actually carry the box without dropping it to the couch I did so.
It was six forty-five. Damn, double damn. Another fifteen minutes. What would happen if I were to peek? Would it somehow diminish what was in the box? It probably would wouldn’t it? It was just the way these things worked. I looked the box over its exterior turning it over in my hands. I could hear something rattling around in there, there was no question. It made me insane with curiosity. All six sides of the box were smooth as satin under my fingers except were the gold was of course. I could see no nails and no glue; a master carpenter had made this. Not that I was used to anything so exquisite, and that is precisely why I knew it was made well. I knew Kmart, Walmart, and any other mart by heart. This was definitely not your garden mill variety.
Three more minutes were left by my watch. Suddenly something dawned on me. How was I supposed to open it? I had wanted to open it sooner then was warranted to be sure, but I wouldn’t have been able to. I could see no lock on the outside of the box, nor a trigger mechanism. What the hell? I began to laugh. I had been in such a rush to get to the damn interview the little man had not been able to tell me how to get at the treasure inside. My mother had told me not to take things from strangers ever since I had been knee high, the only time I break the rule and look what happens?
Was this some sort of test, or better yet some sort of joke? I threw up my hands in frustration. I was a kid at a birthday party that was never going to happen. I held my head in my hands and tried to think. Seven o’clock passed and when it had by only a second I heard the faint whirr and click, as though something inside had slid forward.
Grabbing the box I brought it to my lap and looked down once again at those strange symbols on the top. The golden plate had risen slightly, so slightly that I had no problem thinking that if I had not heard the whirring noise I would never had known the box had opened at all. Now what do I do? I looked over the other sides of the box just to make sure I hadn’t missed anything else. Everything was the same. Only one thing to do I thought and pressed down on the symbols. The one middle drawer in the chest shot forward halfway, giving me a peek of what was inside. All I could see was blue velvet interior. Taking a deep breath I cautiously eased the drawer out the rest of the way.
Inside the box were six items and a note. I picked each of them out of the box and examined them. There was a smooth somewhat round rock, an apple seed, an owl’s feather, a cat’s whisker, a piece of ribbon tied in a bow, and a key.
What the hell?
The note says:
In this box I have given you nothing you want and nothing you need, yet everything one should pack for life’s journey. The rock is for longevity…the seed is for personal growth…the feather is for acquiring wisdom…the whisker is a reminder to be curious and playful…the ribbon reminds one to never leave anything undone…and the key unlocks mystery.
I smile.
Perhaps the note says the box holds nothing I want and nothing I need but I tend to disagree.
© 2009 Tigra