Tim Phillips

Old Money

Under the steamer the old wallpaper paste loosened and smelled like stale pancake batter. As Tracy worked her putty knife beneath the edge and peeled it back, a soft spot in the wall revealed itself – the plaster and lath beneath had been cut away creating a small void. Inside was stuffed a tight burlap-wrapped bundle. Surprised, she set her tools aside, worked it out, then turned to her makeshift workbench lit by the antique chandelier to inspect its contents. The burlap was brittle. Out tumbled two banded stacks of crisp hundred-dollar bills, some loose bills, and a few newspaper clippings. Adrenaline jolted through her! The money was old, with blue stamps and blue serial numbers. The banding valued each stack at ten thousand dollars. Tracy instinctively looked around as if to protect her find, but she was alone. Her mother had recently passed and the house, essentially unchanged from the time of her grandparents, was in dire need of a refresh before she could put it on the market. She’d been slowly working on it in the evenings and weekends, making small repairs room by room, removing the hideous wallpaper and painting to make it presentable to a buyer.