Aunt Deb's House

It’s never easy to search through a house filled with a lifetime of adventures one item at a time. Especially when it is someone you thought you knew only to learn they lived so much more than anyone else could have imagined. It was such a daunting task to comb through layer after layer of a now soulless home. It wasn’t as though Andrew didn’t have enough going on already. Life has a funny way of throwing curve balls at those who tend to have a little rougher road than most. There is almost a strange feeling to see his great aunt’s name fully written on every letter, bill, plaque, and gift over the years. She was always just Aunt Deb to him and he never questioned what she did before the grays began to creep in and wrinkles took their hold.

The kitchen was stripped down to bare cabinets already. All the food and utensils went to local shelters and food banks. Living room, bedroom and dining room were quite easy to rehome everything out of as well. The tiny story and a half was growing closer to ready for the realtor and settling out the last of the estate debt. That was the ultimate goal anyway. Getting rid of the house would pay off the last of the bills left behind and allow Andrew to recoup a little of his sanity if any money was left over to put towards his own. Finding a way to get by had all but become a specialty for the young man. Keeping the lights and heat on to finish sorting and cleaning wasn’t helping that one bit either.

The depth and weight of Andrew’s sigh could almost he felt at the neighbor’s house hundreds of feet away as he stared down the white board of things to finish. Truly he had hoped to just dump the whole mess on the realtor and forget it ever existed. Only the bathroom, attic, garage, and her makeshift library remained. With a quick swipe, the bathroom was crossed off and the garage immediately after. Those two were a matter of an hour and they were done. Thankfully Aunt Deb wasn’t much of the hoarding type, at least not out in the open so far. “Heads is the attic; tails is the library looking thing.” Andrew muttered to himself as he flipped the quarter from his right front pocket into the air. Snatching the quarter from midair his palm firmly smacks onto the back of his left hand. One last deep breath before lifting his right hand away as the profile of Washington stares back at him. Slowly and rhythmically his boots connect with each stair tread ascending towards the landing holding the attic stairs. As with many older homes, it is atop the stairs and in the most awkward corner to pull down. Pulling firmly on the cord made the springs on the attic stairs creak and pop as they stretched to reveal the dusty wooden fold down ladder. As Andrew poked his head through the trusses he saw just one lonely box at the end of the stairs and insulation. Yet another bullet dodged given the possibilities. Andrew grabbed the filing style box and made his way back down to the landing. Two flips and a nudge had the springs screeching for the last time in his presence. From there, he was headed back down to the final room dropping the box on the floor of the former living room as he went.

After two long days of sorting through the final room in the house, he was down to one small shelf of mementos, a few photo albums, plus the handful of books he set aside for his own enjoyment. Well those and a set of free standing shelves the neighbor was picking up after asking about it when being nosey to check on the progress Andrew had made to date. These were the moments Andrew wished he had a larger vehicle. Modest vehicles are rarely partnered with the words cargo space after all. He loaded what he could and walked back through just double checking each room and closing the doors. Everything was as it should be and ready for the realtor less the shelf and two boxes from the library he couldn’t fit. Out of the corner of his eye as he began to head towards his car for the two trips ending this mess he noticed the box from the attic in the corner of the living room. Half disgusted he drags his unwilling body towards it and walked it to the pile of yet to remove.

“Congratulations Sir, you’ve sold this house” the realtor squealed with the false sincerity only a payday can offer. Andrew was truly just relieved it was over. It had been a little over a month since his double trip to finish cleaning everything out. Every box he moved sat idle in his apartment as he impatiently waited for the next round of bills. Operating on a winged prayer he would dump the house fast enough to just break even. With the paperwork complete and everything signed over, he was free and even managed to take home a few hundred bucks. It was time to celebrate a little on Aunt Deb.

Once Andrew was back at home he paused for a moment as he looked at some of the things he had kept. The momentary reflection on a life lived well and a job well done. The dusty old file box from the attic still sat on the arm chair in the corner of his living room though and the shift in stress had led to an overwhelming curiosity. What could this thing contain that was so valuable but so easily set aside? Why would she only put that up there? Why didn’t he just pitch the thing already and move on? Andrew maneuvered the box to the couch and sat down next to it. It never was a pressing issue before. With care and control, the lid drug slightly on the box as it came off. On top was a series of newspaper clippings folded and yellowed from age. The next layer were loose pictures but not of anyone recognizable off hand to him. Below those were a series of bound notebooks. Each of them matched in their purely black coloring.

Andrew reached slowly and grabbed the top black book. The closure strap moved effortlessly around the end and he flipped to the page where the bookmark ribbon laid. It was a journal of sorts at first glance. With the last entry in this notebook being well over 20 years ago, the others in the box made him wonder. How far back does this really go and what all did she write about? Spreading them all out on the table, Andrew began to leaf through and skim the words on the pages. As much as it was journal-like, it was almost more a biography style of writing. Aunt Deb had worked a whole series of jobs and had adventures no one ever spoke of when he was young. From flying with Pan Am at their height, to working in small restaurants and even helping the local paper cover the news of the day. She wasn’t just a woman who got by and lived alone quietly. She lived her life to the fullest. The words scrolled in front of his eyes like a movie script. As hours passed, he read deeper and deeper into a life he never knew. Truth be told, it could have been all fantasy and just a wild story she wished for but at this point it didn’t matter. It was captivating regardless of the reality. As Andrew pulled the closure back over the end of the last notebook, he smirked and fell back into the couch and dropped it to the table in front of him. The box he put the least into held the most valuable expression from Aunt Deb and he was just thankful he held onto it. As Andrew began loading things back into the box from which they came. The very last book he pulled out fell from his grasp and to the floor. As it struck on the bottom corner of the binding a small shiny object popped out and bounced under the coffee table. It was a smaller key after he flopped down to see what fell. Removing the closure again and flipping to the back cover, he saw an envelope taped inside with a few words on it. “The greatest reward comes after reading the best story! First National Bank, Box 300.”

Monday morning after calling in sick to work, Andrew made his way down to the bank. After a lengthy explanation to the teller, then the manager, and reassuring himself he was in the right. Andrew was granted access to box number 300. Inside he found a small envelope containing a handwritten note and a cloth bag.

My dearest Andrew,

You must know, everything you read was absolutely true. I lived a far more adventurous life than even I ever anticipated. When you lost your parents, I promised myself you’d always be taken care of in their absence. The fact you’ve found this goes to show how much you value those around you and the things they cherish. Inside this box you will also find a bag with a small nest egg to help you get by. Twenty thousand dollars in cash, which I hope you’ll invest wisely. Please tell my story to others and hold onto my notebooks. You have always been such an incredible young man.

With Love,

Aunt Deb

As a single tear rolled down Andrew’s cheek, a wave of shock and relief he’s never known came over him. This was everything he needed to change his day to day but never something he could have expected.