Inheritance Hunt

I was finally cornered at dads funeral party.

Surrounded by idle chatter of those that weren’t scared away by my dad’s last years I had tried to keep conversation with anyone other than Miriam, an older woman hiding from age, clearly using Botox, yet would always deny it if ever mentioned. Confidentially she wore an outfit meant for a younger woman.

Consolingly she said “Jack, my love. It must be hard for you and mike to lose your dad in such a way and I am truly sorry he had to pass away so distastefully”

“Thank you” I weakly replied.

“The funeral was very nice and its lovely as being able to meet so many old faces” looking over my shoulder and giving a quick wave and a smile to someone behind me.

Not wanting the conversation to continue I let the silence linger. Feeling the that uneasy feeling I always got from being around her.

“Whilst we are on the topic my love, I need to talk to you about the inheritance and how much you know of it?” not giving me any time for a response she continued “See I feel that since mike covered the costs of this lovely funeral that a portion of it should go to him. I hope you’d understand and not let your brother be at such a loss.”

There it was, money. Always money. “I don’t know yet” I said.

Quickly cutting in “oh its OK if you don’t know now Jack. I am sorry I haven't been around as much, but I do hope that you could come and rely on my as your mother, like mike does”

Of all the things that i dreaded, being offered a mother figure was not it. Numbly I stared at her. After all this time she never tried to reach out to me. Not when my mum died or when dad lost his mind to despair over mum’s death. Always blaming himself.

“Jack. Mum” mike interjected, easily wearing the most expensively dressed suit in the building.

Pleased to see her son hugged him and Mike acknowledging me by throwing a smile my way. Miriam asked what he’s holding.

“I was given these to pass out by the funeral director at the end of the service.” moving to pass each out with our names written on them “he said that this was part of dad’s will.”

Looking over my blocky name and feeling what clearly seams to be a book inside I muttered aloud “I didn’t know about this” Why didn’t I know? I should have known. After all the time I spent with him trying to make his last days as painless as possible.

Miriam without a second thought ripped the folder open revealing a simple black note book. Her manner changing from composed to something vicious and back so quick I wasn't sure what I saw. Dryly she said “What is Joe thinking! This wasn’t part of our will”

Opening my envelope I found we all had the same. Except mine had a smaller wax sealed letter behind the first page with my name. Trying to make sense of what this means I looked at my brother inquisitively studying the books pages and Miriam staring, her face turned reddening with her concealed anger. Instinctively i pocketed the letter, not wanting to share this exception before I knew more.

Reading on, only the first page was written legibly. Whilst all other pages was nonsensical.

“Vultures who does he think he is” I heard her hiss searching for validation in mike.

“It would seam dad wants a treasure hunt for our inheritance mum.”

“That’s perfectly clear” she scolded “how could he say if we know him we can have it. No one knows him better than me.”

“As if he doesn’t think i don’t know about his little decoding games. Especially his bookcase holding his books these things.” Mike understanding Miriam left passing through the sea of guests sharing a quick word here and there.

Miriam looking toward me “He’s robbed me once already. This isn’t going to happen again!”

Venom radiated from her and powerlessness smothered me. Miriam terrified me and my mums warnings about her seamed to all come true at once. This was a person that clearly knew how to get what she wanted and clearly dad knew this as well.

With no where to go and not knowing how to deal with the moment I buried my head in the book, flipping through pages of symbols and characters until I reached the end page. Oddly it was cleanly ripped and read.

‘with this you will find my wealth with my most favourite, PLACED, MY, CUSH’.

I never knew too much of my dads interest in codes but at the very least I knew that the other ripped piece of paper should contain an answer. However, I’ve got to make it to the end, mike and Miriam are much cleverer than me. They could easily decode dad’s life and despite what they say I cant see me getting a fair share of what should be ours.

After all the time I spent giving my life to help him. Demanding my time just to be with him in his lonely existence. Leaving me at the mercy of the woman he fell out of love for my mum.

“Deary” Miriam snapped me out of my spiral. “No need to look too upset. I know your dad can be a harsh man, I know, I dealt with him for 20 years before he ran off with your mother. But we’ll get though it. Trust me.”

I didn’t. I looked to the side, anywhere but her as mike came back brandishing another paper. “You were right mum. It wasn’t hard to find”

Mike took over decrypting the first set of clues with questions revolving around Miriam's life. The correct answer providing the key to the next page. They sat and focused leaving me standing there uselessly. Feeling left out with nothing to add I went and mingled with the guests listening to stories of my dads finest moments.

The evening drew on and people politely made their goodbyes leaving me to the silence of dad’s house. Cushions strewn about the place haphazardly, tiredly i set about clearing the worst of the messes as thoughts of my mum swam through my head, wondering what life would be like if the car crash never happened. Memories of her funeral and my first realisation of what death actually meant to me. Mike had been there to comfort me and dad never talked too much after, especially as Miriam came back in to our lives.

Where are Mike and Miriam? Panic edged the corners of my mind, I shouted, I searched, they must be somewhere in the house working on the next clue but they were no where to be found.

With no sign of them or the decoding sheet I felt my heart drop I collapsed onto dads favourite seat

checking my phone, my spirits raised at the sight of a text from my brother. Telling me a clue had led them to Miriam’s and Dad’s church. That everything will be alright and they will get back to me.

I knew that these were false words. I saw it tonight as plain as day Miriam’s contempt for me, the son of the woman that stole dad away. As well as something about not letting him do this again? She couldn’t let me take what’s ‘rightfully’ hers. I wonder what she thinks when she looks at me. Tonight is the first time I had ever seen her as anything else other than composed. I never want to see it again, see her again. She just scares me.

Dad went to so as far as to call us vultures. To call ‘me’ a vulture. He couldn’t have meant me, all I ever did was help, even when he was convinced that a masked man came into his house and moved things around. Chuckling to myself at that thought, he always seamed so loving when mum was around, but I was also so young then.

It wasn’t until she died, all because of that car accident he caused. She never did survive. And I suppose in some ways neither did he. Always scribbling away in his black books.

Looking at my black book. I wonder. I pull out my letter. Now that I am alone I can have this private time with my dads last words. Slowly, deliberately and with care opening the letter I hoped.

I pulled out a cleanly torn piece of paper. And read.

Jack. You are my most favourite thing in the world. I write this as my vision is clear of this fog for now. I know how what you have done for me and have never asked for anything in return and this I will treasure always. Have faith in what I have done. Love Dad.

Vision blurring I wept for the anguish I’ve put myself through, how could have have not known. How could I have thought what I thought. My dad did recognise my sacrifice. Not only that he had realised that Miriam would have unfairly ruined his last wishes so sent the others on a wild goose chase.

Turning the page UNDER, SEAT and ION was written. Here was the same tear and blocked letter style thats on my last page. Reuniting the torn halves of paper, It read ‘placed under my seat cushion’.

Under his favourite chair, Exactly where I was sat. All along he meant for me to find it here.