Aunt Bea

Tara ran up the stairs to her Aunt Bea’s cottage holding the book size package the attorney gave to her close to her chest. She had left the attorney’s office a half hour earlier discussing the auction sale of her late Aunt’s house. She was to removed anything she wished to keep and let the rest for the future auction.

Her Aunt had passed one month earlier from a long battle with cancer, and had left Tara executor. Tara had visited her Aunt over the summer at least every other week. She lived and worked three hours to the north.

She unlocked the cottage door and memories of her childhood warmed over her. She loved visiting her aunt as she was growing up. Oh, the games and treasure hunts they played. She was like a fairy Godmother, hiding treasures among her antique collection for Tara to find.

She walked to her Aunt’s desk in her small attached room which she used as a library. Her Aunt loved reading and this room was filled with shelves of books, so overflowed, many books were on chairs, and the floor as the shelves were filled. Maybe this package was one of her Aunt’s favorite antique and rare books, she had several that she usually let Tara look through while sitting beside her Aunt as to not damage the book. Tara was very excited; her Aunt own a very old copy of the “Book of Hoyle” that Tara was anxious to own. But this package was slim, and was beckoning her to open it. How mysterious.

She unwrapped the brown paper package to find a slim back notebook, the cover worn from use. She opened the notebook, and on the first page she saw her name written in her Aunt Bea’s penmanship style, part printing and cursive. She turned the page, and emotion welled up in her throat. This was a journal her aunt kept of Tara’s visits with her. Here was written all the treasure hunts, tea parties, and readings she shared with Tara. How wonderful. A ribbon marked where her aunt’s last entry was written, she flipped to that page and teared up as she read her aunts last words.

“My beloved Tara,

What fun we had, such wonderful memories. All those treasures hunts beginning with hints of the written word. I have a last riddle for you to solve, have fun:

Oh, the wild red rose of summer how fragrant is the air. Though the bloom is graced with beauty, handle the body with care. And as you sit and ponder, do let your curiosity drift, remember me my dearest child and let your sorrow lift. Love, Aunt Bea.”

Oh, Tara thought, a last gift. She knew her aunt loved roses and her collection had several rose theme items, and roses, of course, was the theme. She stood in the center of the room her eyes settling on rose themed items. Her second clue was sitting. She noticed a wooden rose keep sake box sitting on an end table near a reading chair. She crossed the room, and picked up the box, turning the box over with care, searching for a hidden department under the box, nothing. But the word “lift” was also in the riddle. So, she placed it back on the stand and lifted the lid. Just a pair of reading glasses. Her eyes then rested on a lovely rose painted vase sitting on an entry table, she went there and lifted the vase, maybe a sign was under the vase. No, just the logo of the maker. “hmmm”, she sat in the reading chair and looked around the room.

She noticed a lovely rose carved chair sitting along the wall of the stair case. She got up and crossed the room to the chair, it’s cushion was a rose stenciled cover. It’s base above the legs was deep. She lifted the chair to turn it over and as she did the cushion fell to the floor with another brown wrapped package landing on top of it. “Oh, the treasure” she thought. She sat chair aright, put the cushion back and picked up the package. She ripped in open, and stared in shock at what was unwrapped.

Money, it was money. She stared in shock trying to gather her thoughts. She tentatively moved the bands of $100 bills wrapped in bands. After coming to herself, she counted 20 bands of 100 bills each. Twenty thousand dollars! She may have sat for minutes or hours, she was not sure, but tears of sorrow and happiness fell from her eyes.

“Oh, Aunt Bea, how I love you and will miss you and thank you for this wonderful treasure hunt” she murmured to herself. END