Saved From the FireSafe Box

The fact that it was found amid the fire ruins should have been an omen. To say the least fire did not have any good memories associated with it, not in my life. At the age of 16 I had lived through three house fires, my sisters only one, this one; how lucky they were. This was the most devastating one, and I had only just begun to see all the damaging side effects it would have on our lives moving forward.

Days after the core coals of the house fire had simmered and then went out completely, did I make the sad pilgrimage to my home to scour the grounds. I guess I was going on behalf of my mother's request, more of her then boyfriends request, but hers because I knew what the firesafe box looked like and he did not. So, he wouldn't know what to look for even if he went. I knew it would be in her bedroom area, so I picked my way carefully across the scene to get to her room. I knew I was walking through the kitchen because I could see the stove, a cast iron skillet that had hung on the wall and was now half melted, and some charcoaled remains of our refrigerator. I made it to her bedroom and seen the wrought iron bed frame and there right on the edge of underneath the bed was the box.

The lock had been melted mostly so any chance of getting a key in would be a failed attempt to open it. I made my way out of the house and into the driveway area, determined to find something to beat the box open with. I came away with a railroad tie me and my sister had collected from the tracks that ran beside our house and a rock. Kind of using them as a makeshift chisel and hammer to get it pried under the edge and opened. Finally, after a few failed attempts, a bleeding knuckle, and some elbow grease I got it semi opened to wedge in my converse toe and yank with my hands. Inside nestled within the birth certificate of us and social security cards was a little black book.

It was getting hot, so I scraped everything up into a neat pile and shoved it into the pages of the book to keep it together. I ran to the car and jumped in and got the air running. I took a minute setting up my Bluetooth to my phone. I was thinking about how the night before I heard my mom telling her then boyfriend, let’s call him Marc, that she didn't know what to do. That she had lost everything and did not have renter’s insurance to cover anything and the landlords had been glad the old place had burned down so they didn't have to upkeep it anymore and were already planning a Cancun trip with the insurance money. Marc comforted her telling her, "it will work out, I have some money coming by the end of the week, probably Thursday." I rolled my eyes because I found this ludicrous, he had been a bum since day one and taking advantage of my mom’s money, never worrying about a job. So where was this "money" coming from? Maybe he'd taken out a loan, I just hoped my mom hadn't told him her social security number.

Speaking of social security cards, I was wanting to check if moms was here as well. I know she was looking for it for the hospital bill that she had due to her breaking her knee in Chicago on vacation a month ago. She was in a cast up to her hip and could barely wobble around on her crutches. I shuddered thinking about her or the girls being here the night of the fire, thank goodness they weren't and had stayed at a friend of my mom’s. I opened the little book and instantly noticed it wasn't mom's writing but Marc's. Before I could help myself, I had skimmed the first page, six or even names with phone number and towns nearby beside them.

Weird, but thinking it was an address book of Marc's I just read on. The next page was a series of dates from the last two weeks and this Thursday coming up circled in red ink. So maybe not an address book but a planner of some sorts. The next page held 15 girl names, ages, race, and a date. My first initial thought was that Marc had kept a written list of his conquers (gross), but remembering that he has bragged to his buddies a few weeks ago that his number notch was much higher than this list of 15. Plus, my mother's name wasn't on here and I wasn't stupid. I shrugged it off an threw the book in the passenger seat after finding mom's social security card and snapping a picture to send to her so she could submit it before 5:00p.m.

When I got back to Marc's dads, where we were staying until we found something else to rent, I handed over the book to Marc because mom was having a bath. Marc took it fast and asked if I had read it. Confused I answered that I hadn’t, but all the important papers were in it and not to lose any. He sighed a sigh of relief and went to his bedroom. I jumped on the bed in the guest room, that I had to myself because both of my sisters were gone to their dad's until Sunday and he had picked them up from school today. I plugged my phone into the charger and got on Facebook to scroll through and see what I had missed after school on my trip to the old house.

Facebook was new to me but I know a bunch of news was posted to it a lot, so when I passed an Amber Alert post I didn't immediately stop until I noticed a familiar name and town. There is was, my first shiver down my spine moment. It was the exact name of the girl in Marc's little black book, Christy Young from Junip Louisiana. Gone missing, thought to be in danger, as of Wednesday: which was two days ago. At first, I thought my suspicion as just silly, but the more I thought about it I could not shake the feeling.

Later that night at about midnight I was still up and heard Marc on his cell talking to someone asking if he could get the money early. Okay, so not a loan at all. He was pacing around the kitchen and I had stopped in the living room to hear without being seen. He told whoever it was on he phone, "I know you'll get her later tonight. She's on way and should arrive to you by 3:00a.m. my time." He paused and said, "No you can trust my driver. Okay great. My pleasure. I'll pick up in a month again, just to avoid suspicion." I hurried back to bed.

I slept terrible dreaming of being trapped in a trunk, beating until my hands hurt. When I woke up I realized I had balled them up so tight my nails had broken the skin. I just knew I had to find out if the "she" Marc was talking about was Christy Young, or any other person on that list. I had a terrible feeling and my mom always told me to trust my instincts. So while he was out, he said he had to go to the ATM this morning at the crack of dawn, I was going to look at the book again. I crept in to their room and stopped to listen that mom was still in the kitchen , and hurried looking for the book. I found it finally mixed in with some other books on the bookshelf, hidden in plain sight. I opened to the page of girls’ names, and hurriedly took a picture with my phone. I flipped through it front to back but didn't see anything else besides a long number that didn't have any meaning, it just said 22500000.

I quickly got on the internet and found the first girl on the list was missing and had an amber alert from 13 days ago from a town two hours from us. The second and third, the same deal, only 12 days ago, the town one hour away. Every single girl had gone missing in the last two weeks. My rational mind was trying to make sense that maybe Marc had been keeping up with this to help in some way. But my logical part of my brain was telling me differently. It wasn't until I heard my mom screaming from the kitchen.

I ran in to see Marc and my mom hugging, mom was crying, and I was just confused. Marc turned, smiling, and tried to hug me too. I walked slowly and asked my mom what was going on and avoided his touch by sitting at the table. Marc frowned but smiled quickly when my mom gushed, "Oh we just found out we're going to be fine. Marc's poor distant godfather on his mother's side has sadly passed away. But he left all his assets to Marc, plus $225,000.00. He just got the wire of money last night at midnight. He thought he might not get it until Thursday, but it came early." at that point the large number on the las page of the little black book made perfect sense, the conversations, and list of names.