Lawrence

“Dad!”

Kevin turned his head to aim his shout down the stairs to his father, who was somewhere on the first floor.

“What is it, Kev?” Kevin’s father, Lawrence, called back up once he was at a reasonable distance to do so.

“Got a locked door up here, but…” Kevin paused to ensure the accuracy of his next statement. “There’s no keyhole.”

“Huh. You sure?”

“Uh. Pretty sure.”

“Alright. Hang on.”

Lawrence headed up the second floor.

The squeaking vocals of the old wooden steps, and the rhythmic smack of his hand on the railing, performed a tune Lawrence hadn’t heard in almost two decades

Kevin took a step to the side to let his father check the door.

“Could just be warping,” Lawrence postulated. “Old paint sticking.” He tried the doorknob and put a shoulder into the door.

“Well I’ll be damned,” he chuckled and placed his hands on his hips as he took a step back. “Must be locked from the inside.”

“That’s kinda weird, right?” Kevin reached in and shook the doorknob again as if that would somehow magically open the stubborn door. “What was in this room, anyway?”

“I… You know what?” Lawrence cocked his head as his eyes darted, looking for the answer. “I don’t remember. Not sure I even remember this door at all.”

“That’s weird.”

“Maybe. Memories are a funny thing.”

“Think maybe Grandpa installed the door directly into the wall? Like a prank or something?”

“Don’t remember your Grandpa being much of a jokester, but we can see.”

Lawrence took out his wallet, chose one of several unneeded business cards, knelt down and, with a decent amount of force, flicked it under the door.

Based on the sound of the card sliding along the floor, Lawrence hazard a guess that it made it a few feet inside.

“Figure it would have bounced back or made a sound if it had hit wall,” Lawrence remarked as he stood back up and eyed the door with mild wonderment. “I am flummoxed.”

“Flummoxed?” Kevin looked at his father dubiously.

“Yeah. It means perplexed or bewildered.”

“I know what it means, Dad. Just didn’t expect you to start talking like you are in a Dickens novel.”

“I dunno. Seemed appropriate.”

They stared at the door for a moment more before Kevin chuckled and shook his head.

“What?” Lawrence asked.

“I just randomly remembered this thing Grandpa did one of the times we visited,” Kevin began. “He put his fingers in his ears, turned them back like he was unlocking something, popped his teeth out, then immediately popped them back in, and locked them back into place.”

“You thought he was actually able to remove his teeth at will?”

“Dad. I was like five. Obviously it was his dentures. But my point is, maybe Grandpa did actually have a sense of humor.”

“Maybe,” Lawrence sighed, unconvinced. "Your grandpa definitely didn't show any of that when I was growing up. Most interactions were all 'did you get your work done, boy?' and 'mind your manners, boy' and maybe a grunt or two between drinks and cigarettes."

Lawrence continued to stare at the door before giving it a light slap with the palm of his hand.

“Wait,” Lawrence, a slight glimmer of revelation flashing in his eyes, turned back to his son. “Do you have that envelope the in-home care nurse gave you?”

“It’s downstairs with my stuff.”

“Well go get it,” Lawrence scoffed mildly at the fact Kevin hadn’t already started.

Kevin hustled down the stairs as his father still called after him.

“You going to go ‘see the town’ with her tonight?”

“Yeah. Probably.”

“When are you supposed to meet up with her?”

“Couple hours.”

“She was cute.”

“Yeah. I know, Dad.”

“I ever tell you about how me and your mom…”

“A thousand times!”

“She asked me out.” “She asked you out.” They said simultaneously.

“Point is, we Stoker men have a history of getting asked out. It could be a sign.”

“It’s not a sign, Dad,” Kevin retorted as he finished bounding up the stairs, and held out the envelope to his father.

“I said it could be,” Lawrence countered with a chuckle, and accepted the envelope. “You think this counts as the ‘discovery’ the nurse, uh…” he snapped his fingers in an attempt to recall her name.

“Molly.”

“...Molly said your grandpa was talking about. ‘Only open after they make the discovery’ or whatever it was.”

“I think it counts.”

Lawrence nodded, opened the envelope, and began reading the note inside out loud.

“‘I’m sure you found the door, if you are reading this. Not like it was hidden. Entrance is though. Takes two to open, so if your boy is with you, one can get in the room, and open the main door. Check the attic. Good luck, boy.’”

“Seems kind of convoluted,” Kevin remarked. “Why not just hide a key or something?”

“Don’t know,” Lawrence shrugged. “But, I was kind of obsessed with hidden rooms and contraptions as a kid. Like pull a certain book, and the bookshelf slides away. That kind of thing.”

“Were you building Rube Goldberg machines in your spare time, too?”

“Actually, yes,” Lawrence laughed. “Also spent I don’t know how many hours with my Erector Set.”

“Didn’t know you were such a geek, Dad.”

“More of a nerd, actually. Geeks collect. Nerds do.”

“I stand corrected,” Kevin said with a mild sarcastic eyeroll.

“Now that that’s settled, to the attic?”

“Lead the way.”

The two headed down the hall and stopped under the dangling rope handle of the attic hatch.

With a grunt, tug, and a bit more effort than he was expecting, Lawrence pulled open the attic.

He and Kevin carefully unfolded the attached wooden ladder and, after a brief test of its sturdiness, they ascended up and into the attic.

Dust danced in the shaft of late afternoon sun that poured through an octagonal window and offered enough visibility to see the various boxes and trunks of who knows what.

Lawrence and Kevin, focused on their mission, headed in the direction of the mystery room and discovered two conspicuous modern Seward trunks, parallel with each other on the floor above where the room should be.

In the space between the two trunks, there was a square panel, clearly not part of the original construction.

Lawrence and Kevin took a trunk each and opened them, revealing matching levers contained within.

“Grandpa really do all this?” Kevin wondered aloud.

“He might have hired someone,” Lawrence mused. “Or just had a lot of time on his hands.”

“Makes sense.”

“Anyway. My lever goes this way,” Lawrence pointed to his right with his thumb.

“Mine goes the same. Or opposite rather. My right, your left.”

Lawrence pulled on the lever before him to no avail.

“Nothing,” he shook his head.

“Dad,” Kevin looked at his dad somewhat incredulously. “‘It takes two’ or whatever.”

“Oh,” Lawrence tapped his head, feeling a bit foolish for not realizing it before. “At the same time then. On three? Or one, two, three, pull.”

“On three feels better.”

“On three it is. Ready?”

“Ready.”

They each gripped a lever.

“One. Two. Three.”

Father and son pulled the levers in unison, and two layered panels slid back in opposite directions.

“Did you feel it lock?” Lawrence asked.

Kevin shook his head.

“Let go,” Lawrence instructed.

Kevin did so, and the panels remained open.

Lawrence then let go of his, and the panels shut again.

“Alright,” Lawrence nodded. “Guess he did say only one can go in. Again?”

Kevin nodded, and on three they opened the entrance again.

“I’ll hold, you go,” Lawrence instructed Kevin.

“You sure?”

“You’re less likely to hurt yourself dropping in there.”

“True.”

Kevin peered into the opening briefly, took a deep breath, and carefully lowered himself into the room below.

“You good?” Lawrence called out.

“Yeah,” Kevin answered and a popping snap followed. “Door’s unlocked and opened.”

“Alright. Coming down.”

Lawrence released the lever, navigated his way out of the attic, and back down the hall.

Kevin had stepped fully into the hall, and handed back the business card to his dad.

“Moment of truth,” Lawrence tilted his head and raised an eyebrow before crossing the threshold.

The room was about a foot wider on either side as the doorway.

At the far end of the room, another envelope rested on top of an old Erector Set box that sat on a table.

A single chair was pushed in at the table.

An uncertain Lawrence approached the items, picked up the envelope and, after some hesitation, opened it and removed the letter found within.

He took a deep breath, unfolded the letter, and began to read silently.

From the doorway, Kevin watched quietly as he noticed his father’s hand shake slightly.

After Lawrence lowered the letter, Kevin stepped toward his father.

“Dad?” Kevin almost whispered.

Lawrence, flush faced and wet eyed, turned his head partially to Kevin, handed him the letter, and turned back away to compose himself.

Kevin looked down at the letter and read it to himself.

Lawrence,

I suppose I could have had Nurse Molly give you this letter instead of the one I hope she did give you. Could have mailed it. Hell, I could have called and told you all this, but wasn’t sure you’d pick up or just toss a letter in the trash. I’d deserve it, and would understand if you did. Figured if you went through all the trouble to find this letter, you’d at least be curious enough to know what it said.

I understand why you stopped visiting and stopped calling. My drunken indifference, at best, wasn’t something you wanted to be around, and certainly didn’t want your son to be around either. Got worse when your mother died. Thought the best way to deal was my Wild Turkey and my cartons of Reds. That’s what I learned from my father. If you start feeling something, you bury that shit deep, and drown it in whatever vice is readily available. Ain’t an excuse, and this ain’t me asking you to feel sorry for me. Or to forgive me. I made my choice to live with my demons instead of fighting them.

Point is, I pissed away all the years I could have been a good father. I would have settled for mediocre, but it’s too late for that.

I’m hoping that you found this with the help of your boy. If you did, then at least I have some comfort knowing you are much better father to him than I was to you. Not that that would be very difficult to do.

There ain’t much more to say. Mostly because I don’t know how to say it.

Guess there is one thing.

Something I should have said a long time ago.

I love you, son.

I’m sorry.

Kevin slowly lowered the letter.

“Jesus. Dad. You okay?”

“Yeah.” Lawrence nodded.

“I can always reschedule with Molly.”

Lawrence waved off the idea.

“No way,” Lawrence reinforced his dismissal of the suggestion. “Stoker men don’t ignore signs.”

“It’s not a sign, Dad.” Kevin joked, quickly wiping under his eyes with the heel of his hand.

They both chuckled, and Lawrence placed an affirming hand on Kevin’s shoulder.

“I love you, son.”

“Love you too, Dad.”

Kevin let the words linger before speaking again.

“You sure you’re gonna be okay?”

“Son. If you don’t get your ass to that date…”

“Alright, alright. I’m going.” Kevin raised his hands with a laugh, handed back the letter, and left his father alone in the room.

Lawrence chuckled and shook his head as he looked at the floor.

He turned to look back at the table and, with a heavy sigh, pulled the chair back, sat down, and placed the letter down.

Lawrence ran his hands along the surface of the Erector Set box, lifted the lid, and, with a gentle smile, began to build.