The $50 Mystery Box

“Hey, did you ever order that mystery box from Blitzmall?” Sybil asked me as she dropped her lunch bag on the cafeteria table. She had already started on her peanut butter sandwich. It had sounded like she said, “Dicheweberorerdatmythryx (swallow) from Blitzmall,” but I knew what she meant. We had talked about the box for two weeks.

“Yeah, I just got a notification that it’s waiting at the post office.” I looked at her lunch, then at my school lunch tray. Huh. I was actually happier with my chicken on a bun and saltless french fries. I picked up my latest favorite book, hoping to read while I ate. Sometimes it worked out, because Sybil talked to boys nearby, but they were hyped up about the football game that night. Sybil ignored them, grabbing my book instead.

“So, can I come over and see what you paid for?” We had gone over this many times. To be honest, I felt we had talked it to death. I only paid $50 for the box. Well, my grandma had paid for it when she gave me birthday money. I still couldn’t believe that I had let Sybil talk me into buying one. I should have made her pay for it.

“Sure, but I have a lot of homework tonight.” I really didn’t, but I didn’t feel guilty in lying to her. There were times I just wanted to read all night. And tonight was one of those nights. I was a nerd, and it didn’t bother me to admit it.

“Great, let’s stop by the post office on the way to your house.” She ripped the candy wrapper with her teeth. “I’ll drive.” I nodded. I suppose if she drives, I can get this over with faster. I really didn’t want to think about this box. Who orders one of those things? I shook my head, somewhat angry with myself. I hoped it was something cool, but it would probably be old lady clothes and weird objects, like thrift shop items that families donate when Grandma dies.

And there was the bell. “I’ll meet you at your car after school.” At least, lunch wasn’t so bad.

---------------

I took the yellow card to the postal worker. “Box 156, please. He stared at the yellow card for a moment. I couldn’t help it; I raised an eyebrow. Was he new? He looked over his shoulder, then went to the metal shelves full of boxes. Sybil looked at me and rolled her eyes. He rummaged through the boxes, scratched his head, and looked at me. He repeated, “Box 156?”

I just nodded. That would be my luck. I spent $50 for nothing.

As if he suddenly realized something, he raised one finger. He went to the back. It took him a couple minutes. I almost left, but Sybil held my arm. She craned her neck to see what he was doing. She whispered, “Where did he go?”

The back door slammed shut, and he approached the front desk. “Here it is,” and he placed a small brown papered box on the countertop. I had to lean forward to check for my name. He kept his hand on it, and leaned forward. “Are you sure you want this box?” The question made me pause. He stared into my eyes. I nodded, and he released the box. He seemed sad, but determined.

Sybil leaned too, and then laughed. She turned to smile at me. “That’s $50? Well, it better be jewelry or I’m going to be disappointed.”

I felt so confused. I looked up at the worker, although I knew he had nothing to do with it. And there was no one there. I leaned over the counter, but he was gone. There was no one in the entire post office.

Sigh. I picked up the box, pushed it into my backpack, and pulled Sybil out of the post office.

She refused to wait. “C’mon, open it.”

“I want to wait until I get home.” I hugged my backpack.

“Rachel, it must be jewelry. I mean, what else can fit in that box?” She picked it up, weighing it with her hand. It was solid. And it was heavier than jewelry. She repeated, “Open it.”

“Fine.” I ripped the brown paper off, but discovered a brown cardboard box so securely taped that I had to turn it over several times to find any type of opening. Wow, someone wanted to really protect what was inside. Finally, I grabbed my house key to slide under one edge.

I took one deep breath, hoping that I wouldn’t be disappointed, and lifted the lid.

It was dazzling. I was enthralled by the beauty of the ornate cover of the small hard covered book that fit perfectly in the cardboard box. I skimmed my fingers over the tiny gems and gold inlay of the writing.

“A book?!” Sybil snorted. “Well, of course. You spend $50 and that’s what you get.” She didn’t bother looking at it again, but pulled out into traffic, barely missing a white Impala.

I didn’t hear anything else that she said. I was so focused on that book cover that I didn’t even notice when the car stopped in my driveway. She laughed. “Get out, girl. I need to go to work. Let me know what you read.” She shook her head, and honked the horn. She rolled the window down and handed me my backpack. How had I forgotten that?

I hurriedly shoved the book into my bag. I didn’t want my mom or dad to see it. They just wouldn’t understand.

“Rachel?! What took you so long?” my mother called from the living room. “Bring me that wine bottle on the counter.” And she was drinking already. She was always so unhappy. I just desperately wanted to get to my room.

“Where are you going?” She waved me toward the recliner next to her. “What did you do today?”

I wanted to say sarcastically, “I went to school, duh” but knew that would send her into a drunken lecture. For once, I hoped my dad would come home. If they were arguing, they wouldn’t be paying attention to me. As if by magic, he walked through the front door. And let the argument begin. I slipped out as my dad grabbed the same wine bottle and drank deeply from it.

I closed my bedroom door and turned on the lamp at my bedside. I sat down, cradling the book carefully in my hands. I gently slid my hand into the box to grasp the spine of the book. Once again, I stroked the cover. I loved to read. Everyone who knew me, knew that. I had already decided that I would be a librarian, because I loved old books. I probably wouldn’t tell Sybil, but the cover of this book was worth the $50 to me.

I realized that there was a small square envelope under the book. The envelope itself was discolored, and although I didn’t know exactly, it seemed very old. There was no adhesive, so I opened it easily. I was amazed that the paper within was so frail. I was afraid to pull it out. The book again drew my attention. I couldn’t help but stare at it and want to touch it. I felt a little giddy. I finally pulled the paper from the envelope.

The spidery handwriting was faint. I could barely make out the words. All I could read was a short word underlined several times.

My imagination went into overdrive. I took a deep breath. Someone was messing with me. I stared at the book, now upside down on my comforter.

I held the slip of paper up to the lamp's weak light. I still couldn't read it. Well, I paid for it, and although it had a beautiful cover, I knew I wouldn't be satisfied without reading it.

Here was the thing. I loved reading, but this mystery was bothering me. I picked up the book and took a deep breath. I opened it to the first page.

I stared at it, but I couldn’t read it. I rubbed my eyes and stared at it again. It seemed like the words were moving. I actually laughed aloud. What the heck? I picked it back up and placed my finger on the page to follow the words. They jumped! They leaped up and down on the page. I laughed again.

I riffled through the pages by dragging my thumb along the edge. I was stunned to find a hole in the back half of the book. And there in the recess was another tiny brown papered box. I was delighted momentarily, but drew my hand back before touching it.

I laughed at myself as I considered. Was it just my imagination? I had definitely read too many fantasy novels. I should take a photo to share with Sybil, but she would just make fun. I took one anyway, but didn’t bother to share it. I breathed deeply and felt the small package, like it was a Christmas present. I really wanted to know what was in there.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the fragile slip of paper from the envelope. I wished I could read it. What was underlined?

I looked at her phone. Good grief! I had been sitting there for a couple hours. And I hadn’t read anything. TWO hours? That seemed wrong. I reached for the tiny papered box. I had to be mistaken, but it was warm to the touch. As I held it, it became hot. Surprised, I dropped it and jumped off the bed. The box bounced and landed on the slip of paper. I hurriedly grabbed the paper, although it seemed unreasonable that it could harm it. The writing drew my attention. I could read it now! It started to fade, so I picked up the package again. As it heated up, I held it close to the paper.

DO NOT OPEN THE SMALL PARCEL.

I laughed again. That was it? What a joke. I wondered what to do next. I felt the papered object respond to my touch. Could it help me read the book? I opened it to the first page again. I gathered my courage and held the package for a moment. Once it had heated up, I placed it on the book.

THIS BOOK WILL CHANGE YOUR LIFE.

CHOOSE WISELY.

The rest of the book was blank. Obviously, I would need what was in the package.

My phone dinged with a notification. I distractedly looked at it. It was from Blitzmall. What? They apologized that the package wouldn’t be here until this coming weekend? I grabbed the discarded paper from my backpack. I couldn’t find my name and address anywhere!

I looked at my phone again. Another hour had passed?! What was happening? I grabbed the package and shoved it back into the back of the book. The cover was lovely, but I would not be denied. I put everything back into the box and covered it with duct tape to close it all up. I was not brave and didn’t care who knew it.

I threw the package into my backpack and climbed out my bedroom window. I headed toward the center of town. I took a deep breath and before I could think about it, I pushed the box into the postal drop box behind the building. And then I ran as fast as I could back to my house, climbing back into my window.

My phone started buzzing. It was Sybil. “So? Did you read it?”

Still breathing heavily, I hesitated, “Yeah, it was stupid. It was a waste of $50.”

Sybil laughed, “Well, it’s my turn now.” I was about to reply. And then I saw the old slip of paper at the foot of my bed.

“Oh, damn.”