Fast Forward

The precision of the fold was uncanny. Every corner came to a sharp point, every edge matched up perfectly to the adjacent one, every detail meticulously cared for and doted over. So much time was spent on the details of the wrapping. It was perfect! Oddly, with the care taken to obsessively ensure that the wrapping was pristine, the twine was carelessly wrapped around. First in a horizontal fashion and vertically, with the thread crossing itself on the bottom and hastily tied into a sloppy, uneven bow on the top. There was a layer of dust covering it. It had been sitting on that shelf for quite some time, untouched, unopened. I imagined lifting it off the shelf to reveal a diagonal facing rectangle shape where it had blocked the dust from the shelf. I wanted to blow the layer of dust off the top and examine the package more closely, but every time I would reach out to touch it, I was denied with a swift whack to my hand.

“That’s not yours!” My grandmother would say emphatically.

As I tipped back in my chair, I stared obsessively at that box wrapped in brown paper. The rain outside provided a perfect white noise background to enhance my hypnotic state. Grandma gabbed on the phone with Denise, the weird lady from down the street that was always going on about the end of days. Her rhythmic voice added to my hypnosis, and she began to sound like the teacher from peanuts. I did not understand my preoccupation with that damn box, but it drew me in like a black hole. My tunnel vision of obsessive wonder came to a disturbing and abrupt end when the room fell silent from my grandmothers’ rants. I felt a sickly shudder roll up my stomach and into my throat as I looked over at her. She released the phone receiver from the ancient yellow phone that had been attached to the wall since early 1960. Faintly, she said my name and then collapsed to the floor.

In haste, I attempted to balance myself and run to her but instead, my chair tipped in the opposite direction, and I fell hard on the floor. On my way down, my head cracked into the corner of the marble kitchen island behind me, and cartoon stars began to sparkle in front of my eyes. My hearing phased out and back in like the flash-bang sound I always heard when my brother played Call of Duty. I attempted to compose myself, as I clutched at the back of my head. Disoriented I realized that I was staring at the blood on my hand and wondered where it came from. The blood was flowing through my hair, and I could feel the hot liquid begin to drip down my neck. As I shook my head to attempt to snap myself out of my haze, I noticed that my phone had flown out of my pocket and slid down the kitchen floor. I morphed into a crawling position to reach for it. Again, noticing the blood on my hands, I could not comprehend why there was blood everywhere. In agony, I turned and stretched out in front of me but realized that I had to crawl to reach it. As I inched forward, my eyes were finally beginning to clear from the stars that were creating a display comparable to the fourth of July. I looked up, wiping the blood off my hand on my shirt, again I attempted to reach for my phone.

As I grabbed my device, my gaze scanned the room in desperate search of meaning to what just happened. When her lifeless hand came into my peripherals, it all came rushing back with more force than the cracking of my head on the island. I shouted for help and crawled with my phone in grandma’s direction. My head started to spin, and my vision began to come and go. I unlocked my phone and squinted to see the dial pad. As I tapped in the three numbers, I heard my body thump on the floor next to grandma and the world faded away.

The rhythmic throbbing in my head sounded like Indian war drums and seemed in sync with the incessant dripping on the ledge outside of the window. The monitor beeping with the other sounds collaborated in making a chaotic song of pure racket. It was still raining. I focused my eyes and could see the black sky screaming at the night with wild gray storm clouds through the thick window. My thoughts instantly went to my grandmother. I began screaming her name. Mom was whispering in the corner with the nurse. They both broke into a sprint towards me the second they realized that I was awake.

“Welcome back!” The nurse said calmly. “You gave us quite a scare.”

I briefly thought about how that was the line that all the nurses used, on all the hospital shows on TV.

“Where is she?” I asked in a panicked vocal expression.

Mom looked down to hide the tears welling up in her eyes. “Baby, I’m so sorry.” The words came out on her breath, solemn and low in tone, almost like she didn’t say them at all.

The war drums in my head stopped almost instantly, as my whole body numbed out. My thoughts raced. What did she say? Could this be happening? Was this my fault? If I didn’t fall, I could have reached her sooner. The room began to spin as tears began to wet my white hospital sheets. The beeping on the monitor began to increase rapidly.

“Ok, time to calm down,” the nurse patted my arm and secured the oxygen tube in my nose and around the back of my ears.

The next few weeks were comparable to an out-of-body experience. As if I was watching my own life on a VHS in fast-forward mode. No sound, just going through the motions, so quickly, it was as though I couldn’t keep up with the events. People squeezing my black-draped slumped shoulders. Words of unencouraging encouragement. I know how close you were. She’s in a better place now. This too will pass! The last one pissed me off. How does losing the only person who ever understood you pass? I tipped back in my chair at my grandmothers' table, and I watched my mom sigh deeply as the never-ending parade of casseroles and condolences drained every bit of energy that she had left. My brother zoned out on his stupid video games in the backroom and people began to meander out the front door.

Other than the lawyer, Denise was the last non-related person to back out of the doorway; sputtering and announcing her regret as she attempted to grab the hands of my aunt and uncle in sad condolence and attempting to be invited back in. Aunt Laura shut the door behind her with thoughtful haste and looked directly at the lawyer.

“Can we get this part over with?” She blurted.

The lawyer gathered the remaining family in the kitchen and began to read off grandmas will. I picked at my hangnails and zoned out his monotoned voice, as I tipped my chair backward. Aunt Laura slammed my chair down cruelly, with a glare that could have melted anyone who was not used to harsh punishments and strong words. The lawyer stopped talking in astonishment, as though he was the one being reprimanded.

“Seriously!!! Have you not learned anything? I can’t believe you!” Her words cut through my heart as much as her gaze. Laura sharply turned back to the attorney. “Well?” She gestured for him to continue.

He looked down quickly at the will and began reading again. I looked away in shame, as the assets were given away one by one. My eyes fell on the paper box as if magnets had pulled them in that direction. Just as always, I began to obsess over that impeccable wrapping and the sloppy bow.

The attorney nudged me. As I looked up, I realized that my family had been disbursed.

“I have a letter for you, from your grandmother.” He smiled at me as he handed me a petite white envelope with daisies on the outside. It was just the kind of stationery I expected my grandmother to have. Dainty and classy. I smiled back at the small man as I accepted the envelope.

Looking around to see if anyone was near, I lifted the edge of the seal and began to rip it open.

My Dearest Granddaughter,

Though passed through generations, we have all declined to open the box that has sat on the shelf in my kitchen for years. I was not completely forthcoming with you. The box is, in fact, yours. It is your birthright. The eldest daughter has the right to the secret within. The contents are a mystery that has been maintained due to fear. While promising great wisdom and excitement, it is told to come with great consequence, as well. Even I pulled the twine with intentions to explore this promise of an enchanting life, only to tie it back up. Whether or not you choose to partake in the unknown or decline, it is to pass through the generations to the oldest daughter, skipping a generation as it did from me to you, since I only had sons. Your father was furious. It was quite funny. Along with the box comes this cautioning, take this into account before you open this box. It can, and will, change your future.

Inside you’ll find a mystery, full of wisdom and regret

Inside you’ll find excitement; on your mark, get set

For the pleasure and the plunder, the fantasy, and fun

For the horror and the trauma and the things that can't be undone.

Experience of a lifetime or your life of hell

You never know exactly what the travel will expel

Be bold, be brave, be ready, for the ride will never quit

Until again, a daughter on her mother's breast will sit

So faint of heart be weary, this ride is not for you

And the barren woman surely will be worn and blue

But excitement and adventure and life you can’t describe

Will bless you, may curse you, if you choose to subscribe

In the end, the value is worth the experience, the prize

But choose this day if you have the guts, make sure your choice is wise.

Good luck my darling!

Love always,

Grandma

The letter pressed the play button and my life in fast forward suddenly stopped. Slowly, I lowered the letter as I rose from my seat. I walked deliberately over to the package I had so longed to take off that shelf. I could not contain my excitement. This was the first emotion other than numbness I had felt in weeks. I reached up to grab the package, half expecting grandma to reach out and whack my hand as she had done so many times before. Instead, as I touched the unruly twine bow on top, an arch of electricity shot out from the package and zapped my finger. I pulled my hand back quickly and rethought opening this package. It seemed like the box was giving me one final warning to proceed with caution. As I sucked my throbbing finger the gravity of the enigma once again pulled me in like a black hole. I snatched the package off the shelf. I blew the dust off the top and was satisfied as I watched it float in the air in front of me. Hesitation grabbed me for another moment. Then a rush of courage rose in me from the bottom of my stomach. I pulled the end of the twine and slid my finger under the perfectly wrapped brown paper.