Knock

Johnathan stares blankly at the hospital bill, his eyes red with exhaustion. He can hear his wife putting their son to bed. She reads him a tale about a brave knight who took on a fearsome dragon, saving the kingdom from destruction and ruin. The knight was showered with praise and a fortune beyond imagination.

In that moment, Johnathan wished more than anything to be that knight.

His grip tightens on the already crinkled paper, knuckles turning white, when there is a knock on the door.

Johnathan looks towards the grandfather clock and frowns.

It’s nearly ten o’clock. Who could possibly be here? Johnathan thinks to himself.

He looks down at the bill one last time before tossing it on the coffee table. He groans as he lifts himself off the sofa and stumbles towards the door. He peers through the peep-hole and examines the unwelcome visitor.

He cannot recognize the wrinkled face that waits for him on the other side, and the darkness of the night certainly does not help.

Johnathan pauses, his fingers wrapping around the knob, and looks over his shoulder at the closed bedroom door.

He slowly turns the knob, and a gust of wind blows the door wide open. Johnathan turns to flick on the porch light, but the bulb is burnt out. He furrows his brow before facing his visitor.

The man looms over Johnathan, but says nothing.

“Can I help you?” Johnathan asks, voice cracking ever so slightly.

“Are you Johnathan Emmett?” The man’s voice is deep and commanding.

Without giving it a second thought, Johnathan answers the man. “Yes, I am.”

The man gives his shoulders a shrug before he sighs heavily. “Well, kid, I hate to tell you this, but… your granddad passed away.”

Johnathan stands in the doorframe, confused. My granddad? He thinks. But… my grandparents are long dead.

“My granddad?” He repeats, this time out loud.

“Yes,” the man continues, “he passed away about a month ago. It’s taken me a while to sort everything out, but I think I have it right.”

“Sort what out?” Johnathan asks, his curiosity getting the better of him.

The man rubs his peppered jaw. “Well, it’s not much, but it’s a fair chunk of change, you see. And I have been trying to locate his family, but turns out you’re the only one left.”

Only one left?

Johnathan glances over his shoulder, mind racing as his eyes focus in on the hospital bill that lay haphazardly on the table.

He turns back to the stranger. “Can I see the will?”

The man nods as he reaches into his pocket, retrieving a little, black notebook.

The notebook looks like it has seen better days. The corners are folded and the cover is scratched and worn.

“Here, kid. This is all you’re gonna need.” The man hands Johnathan the black notebook.

Johnathan stares down at the notebook and slowly opens the cover, as it looks like it could fall apart at any moment.

There’s a folded up piece of paper tucked into the front pages. He pulls out the near-crumpled up sheet and unfolds it.

He stares down at the words and begins to read.

Last Will and Testament of Charles Christopher Emmett…

“Charles Emmett?” Johnathan shakes his head. “I think there’s been some sort of a mistake. I don’t have a grandfather with that…”

Johnathan’s voice catches in his throat when he lifts his head. His eyes widen when he sees that the stranger is gone.

He steps down off of the porch and searches the darkened street for any sign of him.

Johnathan slowly turns to head back inside, closing the door behind him.

He looks back down at the notebook and flips through the pages. Another piece of paper—a smaller one this time—falls out and lands on the floor between his feet.

Bending over, Johnathan reaches for the paper.

When he realizes what he is holding, the book, the papers, everything, falls to the floor.

“Twenty thousand dollars?” Johnathan whispers.

He retrieves the papers and book from the floor and reopens the cheque addressed to Johnathan Emmett.

He stares at the number, his eyes beginning to water from forgetting to blink.

What is happening?

Johnathan rubs his eyes, certain that he must not be seeing it clearly.

This can’t be happening… This can’t be real.

He walks over to the coffee table, cheque in hand, and lifts up the hospital bill.

He stares at the numbers spread across the page, then refocuses his attention on the cheque.

The bedroom door creaks open and Johnathan shuffles all the papers together, folding them up and shoving them into the little, black book. He tucks the book in his back pocket and turns to face his wife.

There are tears in her eyes, and her expression is blank. She looks weak. She looks exhausted.

She looks defeated.

Johnathan pulls his wife into a hug and kisses her forehead.

She begins to cry.

She pulls away and looks up at Johnathan. “What are we going to do?” she asks between sobs.

He stares deeply into her eyes, searching for the answer in the blue of her irises.

“Don’t worry, love. We will figure it out. We will keep him safe.” He looks down at his wife and kisses her gently on the lips. “I promise.”

She nods faintly before she turns away and walks down the hall, heading to their bedroom.

Johnathan watches her as she walks away. Once he sees that she closed the bedroom door, he walks over to his son’s room and peers into the darkness of the room.

His nightlight omits the slightest bit of light, enough to illuminate the young boy's sleeping face.

Johnathan reaches into his back pocket and holds the book out in front of him, staring down at the answer to all his problems.

But is it the right answer?

All the possibilities of what could go wrong run through Johnathan’s mind, but he shakes his head.

I can’t think about that now.

He looks back at his son, who lay peacefully asleep, blissfully unaware, and nods his head. His mind is made up.

“I promise.”

* * *

Johnathan and his wife smile across the room at each other as their son runs around the living room wearing a bright, red cape.

“Look, Mommy!” He nearly screams. “Look how fast I can go!”

“Careful, honey, the doctor said you have to take it slow, remember?”

But he doesn't care. After being poked and prodded at for so long, unable to be a real kid, well, he’s making up for lost time.

Johnathan watches as his son runs around the couch in circles, dodging the coffee table. As he runs passed his father, Johnathan scoops him up in his arms, holding him as tightly as he could.

“Daddy, you’re squishing me!” He wriggles about in his arms.

Johnathan laughs before he loosens his grip and places his son back on the ground.

He ruffles his son’s hair and pats him on the back before the child takes off again, zooming around the house.

Johnathan walks over to the kitchen, where his wife is chopping up a tomato for dinner. He wraps his arms around her waist and begins to sway back and forth.

She lets go of the knife and spins around to face her husband.

They sway back and forth in harmony, stealing kisses from each other as they danced about the kitchen.

Johnathan stops suddenly and looks down at his wife, staring into her eyes, and he smiles. A real smile.

Everything is finally normal.

Everything finally feels right.

Knock.

He and his wife turn to the door and listen for any noises outside. There’s a brief period of silence before they hear it again.

Knock, knock.

Johnathan looks at his wife, brows furrowed. His wife shrugs, uncertain who it could be either.

Johnathan walks over to the door, his wife not too far behind him, and opens it wide.

He doesn’t recognize the man. He turns to his wife and reads her expression. He can tell she doesn’t recognize him either.

“Can I help you?” Johnathan asks, getting a sense of déjà vu.

“I’m hoping so,” the man states firmly. “Are you Johnathan Emmett?”

Johnathan shifts uncomfortably before responding.

“Uh, yes.” His voice wavers, the hairs on his arm standing up. “Yes I am”

The man’s eyes lock on Johnathan’s, his gaze piercing.

“So am I.”