Grandmama’s Attic

The ladder squeaks with my every uneasy step up. Years of unuse have taken a toll on this house, but the love and care it once had can still be felt. I hear faint whispers of nostalgia. It flows through my ears and caresses my heart. Grandmama would never let my sisters and I travel up this high before. But of course that never stopped us. We’d hide behind bookcases and under the desks in her office. Laughing even as she threw a fit before she’d send us back to our rooms without dinner. Even through her stoic looks and often harsh demeanor, she was a lovely woman at heart.



I let out a small chuckle to myself, ending with a sigh. I wonder what Grandmama would have thought of us now.



I push the lid at the top of the ladder open with a thud. Dust fills my lungs as I squeeze my way into the attic, wherein Grandmama’s old office resides. Tall bookcases line the walls, each carved in with some sort of sigil. They were for protection, she would say. Claiming that things like sigils, powders, and candles helped ward off evil and bring peace to the old house. Even saying certain books had magical properties. Grandmama was ever so obsessed with all things supernatural and magic, but I was never convinced. In the end, it was beliefs like that which got her through the day. That’s all that mattered.



In the back half of the room, in front of the window, was her desk, all lined with dust. Everything was exactly how she left it. In other words, a complete mess. Covered in her old notes and what I assume was every single dish in the house. I make my way towards it, the floorboards creaking with every step. Small panic settles in my heart as I fear I’ll fall through the floor any second now. I place my hand on the edge of the desk as I steady myself.



I sigh as I look around the room again. The movers will be here tomorrow, ready to clear out the whole house. I wasn’t so sure what to do after Grandmama left the whole estate to me. So although it pained me, I decided to sell the whole place. I desperately needed the money. Grad school isn’t cheap, as I discovered a far bit too late.



I start rifling through the drawers for something else of value. Making some extra cash never hurt. Although nothing seems of interest, mostly black pens and unused paperweights. But as I make my way down and open the bottom drawer, I find that it contains nothing but a small, black notebook. Curiosity overtakes me as I take the books in hand. There wasn’t a title or anything. Not even a brand inscribed on the back. But it seemed to have many little notes sticking out the sides. My heart drops ever so slightly when I open it. It’s a sort of to-do list, and a strange one at that. But what caught me off guard were the large, bold streaks through every line, like a task well done. Each string of words was a sort of quest, if you will. Ranging from weird things like drinking every kind of water to plucking ten chickens in a row. Even the task of building an office within an attic was on the list. Why did Grandmama even have a book like this? And more importantly, did she really follow all of these instructions to a T?



I skim through the pages. Seeing prompts like going outside to dance like a cowboy. I almost bend over laughing when I see the picture accompanying it. Nearly every one of these were like stupid bets someone and their friends would make, while others were little more on the absurd side. I smile to no one but myself, silently wishing Grandmama had the time of her life recreating these, even at her age. I know I would.



My chest starts the swell as I flip to the last page.There, in neat little words, free from any streaks dashed through the middle, was the final task.



“Live a happy life.”



Without a single look, I gently open the top drawer of the desk and pull out a pen. I open it with a soft click and hover it over the page. From everything I’ve seen. From everything I’ve read. From every gentle smile I saw on her face when she thought no one was looking. From the warm hug she gave me, not knowing it would be her last. From all of that, I think I know the answer. Taking a final sigh, I draw a small line through the words. A task well completed.



I didn’t notice I was crying until I saw a faint, blue light reflect off my tears. Blinking it away, I take a step back as the words before me begin the glow. Like a sun peaking through the clouds, a single bronze key emerges from the pages. Taken aback, my shoulders begin to tense. In fear, I retract full bodily. The key makes a shrill clank as it falls through my hands and bounces against the hardwood floor. The small book thuds quietly in response. My head fills with static as I reach back down for the book and key. Maybe, just maybe, Grandma was right about certain books having something more to them than meets the eye. This new and strange reality starts to settle in when I open the book once more.



“Congratulations! You have completed every task! Continue to the next page to claim your reward, old friend.”



Hesitantly, I flipped over to the next page. Inside was a keyhole. After my brain finally catches up with me, I fumble with the key and place it into the slot, only missing a couple of times. It turns with a click. After a moment, a dollar bill slips it’s way from the bottom of the book and I watch as it glides to the floor. Any words I have instantly die in my throat. And before I know it, money starts to endlessly pour from the book. Which, remarkably, wasn’t the weirdest thing that has happened today.



The money continues to spit out at an alarming rate, only quickening as my bewilderment starts the skyrocket. I try to grab at least some of it, but it slips through my fingers. Quickly, I fall to the floor trying to stuff as much of it as I can into my coat. The paper crinkles as I stuff as much as possible, some bills fall from the hem of my coat and back into the green mess below. But suddenly I stop, dead in my tracks. My eyes widen as I glance back to the black notebook. A number appears from the pages.



$20,000



My heart sinks to my stomach. Sweat drips down from my face and onto the money still spewing to the floor. I look on in horror as I realize that every single one of these is a one dollar bill.



I’m going to be here for a while.