How It Started

It was a mild, gloomy day when Joseph Richardson stepped out of the taxi cab and onto the sidewalk. This wasn't unusual for Port City, Washington. Looking up he could see a small, tattered house rather out of place in an otherwise upscale neighborhood. The pale green paint had begun to fade and chip away, the white trim now turning brown from years of dust. The lawn was unkempt with patches of green and brown like a patchwork quilt. As he stood there, Joseph couldn't help but think of all the wonderful memories he had had here. With a labored sigh, he pushed open the barn red door and stepped inside.

The interior to the home wouldn't surprise anyone after seeing the outside. Although it was a reasonably neat home, it clearly had not been renovated since the 70s, save for perhaps painting the walls once or twice and changing the carpet once. The linoleum floor in the kitchen had yellowed and the flowered wallpaper was beginning to peel. The carpet in the living room was covered in stains, as were the faded orange velvet couches. There was also an upright piano in the corner.” Funny,” Joseph thought to himself, “he had never actually seen Nona play before.”

Before beginning the day’s activities, Joseph sank down into his grandmother's favorite blue, leather arm chair. At 28 years old, Joseph was a handsome man but not incredibly so, with medium length brown hair and dark brown eyes. He was average height, coming just short of 6 feet tall, and with a muscular build. He was well dressed but nothing flashy. Truth be told, if you were to pass him on the street you probably wouldn't take much notice of him. That was just how Joseph liked it. After all, he had always been a reserved and socially awkward young man. Just the opposite of Nona. She had been very bright and cheerful, full of energy and kind to anyone she met. She was a short woman with ice blue eyes and tight white curls. You would never see her without a smile on her face, and there wasn't a single person in the world that Naomi Bolts couldn't make like her, save for Joseph's mother perhaps.

His mother, Jessica, had met his father, Will Richardson, in college and they had married soon after. Jessica had always been the life of the party, the consummate hostess, always adorned in the most expensive styles and jewelry. She spent so much time procuring this image and attending parties that she rarely had time for her son.

Will was quite the opposite, cold and reserved, constantly busy running his company. Never once had he ever taken the time to play a game or have a meaningful conversation with Joseph. As a result, Joseph had spent much of his time with Nona until he had gone off to college and a subsequent career on the East Coast.

Looking up, Joseph could see dozens of trophies, ribbons and medals on full display, along with several pictures of himself throughout the years. Nona had always been so proud of him, boasting about her grandson to whomever would listen.

When he was a young boy, Joseph had been bullied in school. His shyness and quiet intelligence had painted a target on his back. In order to help him protect himself, Nona had taken Joseph to a mix of martial arts classes. He had become quite good, and pretty soon the bullies began to steer clear of Joseph.

But Joseph had grown to rather enjoy fighting and began competing in tournaments. Every time he had gotten better and better, until he eventually won gold in the Junior Olympics. In fact, he had become the heavy favorite to win the martial arts gold in the upcoming Olympics.

But his mother didn't approve. The day after he had won the Junior Olympics, she had made him quit competing altogether to focus on his studies. Having a son that competed in such a “brutish” sport would ruin her carefully cultivated reputation. So instead, he went on to get a business degree and work in the Rhode Island branch of his father's business.

That's where he was when he received the call that his Nona had passed away. She had been over on third street when she was shot several times in a drive by shooting. She was the only one that was harmed. The story had always confused Joseph. What was she even doing there in the first place? She had never had reason to be in that area before, so what had brought her there on that fateful day?

After the funeral, Joseph learned that Nona had given her house and everything inside, to him, her only grandson. That is what brought him here that day.

As it was already late in the morning, Joseph decided that it was time to begin cleaning and organizing everything. He knew that it would take time to decide what to keep, sell, or donate to charity. Luckily, Nona had done a pretty good job of keeping things neat and well organized. Joseph worked diligently until early afternoon, pausing from time to time when something brought up memories of his grandmother, taking a moment to shed a tear or two.

After a quick lunch of a grilled cheese sandwich with canned tomato soup, Joseph again returned to the task at hand. By late afternoon, he had already made significant progress on the upstairs and main floors, so he decided to head down to the basement for a change of scenery. Come to think of it, he really never had been down there much prior to this point. Joseph chuckled as he considered what kinds of secrets his Nona could be hiding down there. Perhaps an unrequited love for Arnold Schwarzenegger, or maybe she had been a hippie during the summer of love, or possibly she had once been a member of Hells Angels!

But as he descended down the stairs, Joseph found nothing unexpected for a grandmother. There was a large stack of home canned fruits and vegetables, heaps of rags and old blankets, boxes of old clothes and toys from his childhood, and even an old mountain bike from when Joseph had been in high school. And then he saw it. In the far corner of the room, hidden in the darkness, was a massive safe, nearly tall enough for Joseph to stand in. Its once black paint had now faded to a bluish green and was flaking off to give way to the underlying rust. In large gold letters across the front it read, “Ballance and Sons, est. 1882”. “What could Nona possibly need this for?” Joseph wondered aloud.

When he attempted to open it, he found that the safe was locked. He had no idea what the combination could possibly be, but he remembered that Nona had occasionally enjoyed making a game of hiding things from Joseph to see if he could find them with her hints and puzzles. With that in mind, Joseph began searching the basement for the hidden safe combination. Even in death Nona knew just how to cheer him up. After an hour of searching the basement and finding nothing, Joseph moved his search to the main and upper floors. As the time passed, he became more frantic in his search, worried that he would never discover the combination and miss out on what Nona had been hiding for him.

As the sun went down Joseph had to abandon his search for dinner. Not quite ready to give up, he ordered pizza to be delivered while he continued. The pizza arrived around 30 minutes later and Joseph eagerly dug in. After consuming a couple of slices, he took notice of the pizza box lid. They were advertising a sweepstakes and the personalized code was at the bottom right corner. That was it! How could he have missed it? At the reading of Nona’s will, Joseph had been given a couple of documents to keep for himself. In the bottom right-hand corner had been a series of random numbers. At the time they had puzzled Joseph, but now he knew exactly what they were for.

Immediately Joseph bolted to his bag, located the documents, and with them in hand, flew down the stairs and into the basement. His hands were trembling as he entered the numbers, “29, 57, 04, 37, 03” and turned the handle. He took a deep breath before creaking the door open.

What he found shocked him. It was a large pile of cash, with a small black leather book resting on top. Unsure of what to do, Joseph began to count the money. When he had finished, he had counted $20,000 in all! Where had all this money come from? And why was it all hidden away when there were so many things on the house that needed to be repaired? At last, he turned his attention to the little black book. But to his surprise, he found the pages to be blank. “What was the point of leaving a blank notebook?” Joseph thought to himself.

Puzzled, he went upstairs to his old room. His parents were out of town, and he decided that he would rather stay at Nona’s. As he reflected on the day's events, Joseph began to drift to sleep. His thoughts began to turn to some of his old memories of Nona. She had always enjoyed teaching him new skills such as how to ride a bike, play the guitar, how to sew and even how to shoot the air rifle that she had given him on his tenth birthday. One time after he had watched a spy movie, Nona had even taught Joseph how to create and reveal invisible ink to pass secret messages.

INVISIBLE INK! Joseph sat bolt upright in bed. How could he have forgotten? Grabbing the iron, he knew exactly what to do. As soon as it had become warm enough, Joseph began running the iron over each page. In a matter of seconds, the words became clear.

* * *

Crouching in the darkness of an alley at midnight three years later, Joseph couldn’t help but wonder to himself, if he had known then what would happen, would he have ever opened that little black book?