Another Man's Treasure

Nick wasn't sure what he had expected, but it was just the six of them at the funeral. Jake, Paul and Kelly were there for him more than anything, and the Priest had to be there, so in truth, only Hana and himself had come to say goodbye to his Mother. Hana had worked with his Mum for almost thirty years, but Nick suspected she had only come so she could gossip about it with the other girls on Monday. He couldn't help but think that calling whatever this was a funeral was more than generous. It was over in less than twenty minutes. Most of that time was eaten up signing papers and watching the body incinerate. This was all they could afford, one-half hour, eleven-thirty at night, to farewell fifty-three and three-quarter years of life. In fact, they couldn't really afford it, but it had been her wish, and it was mostly her money, so it seemed right to Nick. Initially, he had thought the company would pay for the funeral. She had died on the job, a quick heart attack at the end of a long, long shift. Unfortunately for Nick, within the hour of her death, he received a message explaining that her insurance policy was void. The company had determined that statistically, she had lived longer than would be expected for someone with her genetics, and they could not be expected to pay out in such circumstances. So he had paid what little money they had left.

Later that night, Nick, Jake, Paul, and Kelly sat around the bonfire and drank their last six-pack of beer, bought with their last dollars. They were running on empty. There had been some tight times in the past, but there had always been a little bit more cash, a job coming up, some things to sell or some things stashed away. Not this time, the tank was dry, and they all knew it. So they sat in silence, drinking and thinking. As the night limped on and the beers emptied, Nick couldn't help but feel increasingly guilty. He would have a little bit of money left if not for the funeral. It would only have bought them another week or so of food, but it would have been something. He had tried to apologise, but they were frustratingly supportive, saying that her wishes meant more than money and other lies like that. The least he could do was dig the group out of the pit he had just buried them in.

He broke the silence, putting as much enthusiasm as he could muster into his voice and said, "I'll head into town first thing in the morning, find a couple of gigs for us". No one responded, leaving the platitude to float away with the smoke of the fire. But after a few more moments, Kelly finally stood up with a surprisingly determined look. "No, you won't, none of us will". Nick started to protest but was cut off before he could get a word off. "Shut up", Kelly barked, giving him a look that could melt glass. "There are no jobs down there, hasn't been for weeks. And even if there were, then what?". He knew her well enough not to answer that sort of question mid-rant. "We continue on? One of us working ourselves to death for scraps? The only good jobs left are for rich folk and machines. You're gonna get another job down there, Nick? You're gonna go work on a ship for another six months so we can buy another year, maybe?". All of them had heard this sort of talk from her before. Still, the edge in her voice was sharper than usual. She waited for him to take the bait, so he did. "It's not much, but it's better than nothing". She had clearly been expecting this response and continued on.

"It's worse than nothing. You're a fucking liar saying it's not so bad, we've all done it, and we know what it's like. Six months cleaning the reactors on those ships, and you'll lose six years of your life. Or, if you're lucky, they'll have you clean trash out of the rudders until you slip up and one takes your hand. I say, fuck that.".

"So, what then?" Paul said drearily, clearly fed up with the rant already.

"So, we go take that insurance policy back, we get Nicks' Mum what she's owed." Kelly was speaking cooly now, all steel and ice. The rest of them just stared, confused, dumbfounded and a little bit drunk.

"She told me a lot about cleaning that house, that fucking mansion. The summer, you guys were all working at the dairy. She told me everything, and we joked about how we would do it." They all knew what she meant. They had peeked down this road before.

"I remember what she told me, hell I worked there a couple of times myself, we can get in, he has a safe he never lets her clean, the only thing he won't let them near, cares more about it than his fucking car. He lives alone. He's a hermit. We get in, make him open the safe, sell whatever is inside and get the hell out of here." it all came flooding out, faster and louder than she had wanted it to. She had been holding on to this for a long time. She was like a spring that had been held tight for a month, finally exploding outward against the pressure. A few minutes passed, no one wanted to speak first. "Okay", Nick said, "Let's do it".

At first, it all went very, very well. Nick felt like he had just stepped into another world made of marble, gold and polished timber. The walls seemed covered in obtuse art, and there was more furniture than he had seen in his life. They had passed through three kitchens, past two swimming pools and countless rooms he couldn't make heads or tails of their purpose. It all made him feel sick. He didn't touch anything. It felt so surreal, as if touching it might cause the entire illusion to shatter.

It didn't take too long to go wrong, though. One of the cooks had stayed late to prepare for tomorrows shift. Nick had almost walked right into him. He froze up. Jake didn't give him a chance to run. They struggled on the floor while Nick and Kelly tried to muffle his voice. Eventually, Jakes chokehold robbed him of consciousness, and he went limp. Nick assumed he was just knocked out, but he didn't really want to know. After this, they hurried on to the Master Bedroom. Some fantasy about how this would happen had melted away. The owner was still in bed. Jake was punching him in the face before he even knew what was happening. "What are you-" Nick said, going to stop him, pull him off the man, but Kelly put a hand on his shoulder, and he let it happen. They hadn't discussed this part. Abruptly the man was on the floor, covered in his own blood, asking again and again what they wanted. "Open the safe, now", Kelly said calmly. The man looked up at her, hesitating. Jake put a boot into his face. They dragged him to the safe, exactly where Kelly had said it would be, and pushed him against it.

"Don't do anything stupid, just open it up, and we're gone. You can continue doing whatever the fuck it is you do," Kelly said, a slight crack in the otherwise strong, deep voice. Surprisingly, he did open it, quicker than they were ready for. The second it was open, he pulled something out, dragging himself away into the corner of the room. Paul was in the safe in a blink, pulling out jewellery, photos, and papers, feverishly stuffing anything shining into his pockets. "Give it here," Kelly said, towering over the man in the corner. He looked so small to Nick.

Such a tiny, frail thing couldn't possibly be the owner of this palace. He was in a ball, clutching a box in his arms. "No, wait, you don't want it", he replied timidly. Nick felt like he was in a dream. The box was nothing special, wrapped in brown butchers paper like you might get your groceries in, utterly unmarked except for some scratchy writing he couldn't make out. It looked purely worthless. "Nice try, but I know what the fuck I want," Kelly said, attempted to pull it out of his hands. He lashed out at her, and then Jake was on him, punching, kicking and finally choking until the man stopped moving. It all happened so fast. Nick had barely moved a muscle since they entered the room. "What is it?" he said shakily, hoping desperately that the beer wouldn't come up with the words. After a moment, Jake scoffed disbelievingly and threw the box to Nick, "All for an empty box".

"Let's get the fuck out of here," Kelly yelled, and they were all out and down the stairs. As they made their way to the staff garage to escape, Nick realised he was still holding the box. It was torn slightly, revealing nothing inside. But he could just make out something written in pencil on one side of the box. It was written in large, scrawled handwriting, child's letters but clearly legible as "Happy Fathers Day".

The whole incident was mentioned only briefly in the following days' news. According to the short segment, four mentally deranged vagrants had invaded the private residence of Grant Thomas, an eccentric billionaire. Assaulting his staff and murdering him before attempting to escape with stolen goods. All four had been executed by precision drone strike before even making it off the property. Fortunately, Mr Thomas was restored into a recent backup within a day. All stolen property has been recovered, and a tragedy avoided.