The Mystery Box

The Mystery Box was a small shop hidden behind the bus station at the corner of Hyde and Fourth. It was made with brick, worn brown and dirty over the long years. It sold - perhaps unsurprisingly - mystery boxes. Not many people visited the shop - but all who did went because of the knowledge of what they might receive.

Well, “knowledge” may be too precise a word because no one actually knew what was in any particular mystery box. There was no list of prizes, no pre-established rewards or expectations given to those who purchased one. The item received could be trash or treasure - and at least on one memorable occasion, a live snake. In fact, the only advertising the shop ever received came from rumor: “Did you hear about Mr. Fumar? Saved up all month and got a wheel of Camembert.” “Poor guy - that’s just after Mrs. Landry from the trailer park got the keys to a house on the peninsula!”

The most important aspect of the rumors was that the mystery box would always give you something you needed - whether you knew it or not. For example, poor Mr. Fumar stress-ate his entire wheel of Camembert in one sitting - leading him to go to the hospital where he met his future husband, Lou. And Mrs. Landry? Well, she got a house. A bit more straightforward, yes, but still impressive and life-changing.

Many children grew up with these rumors, but most were discouraged from indulging in their fantasies because many of their elders considered The Mystery Box to be a scam. Yes, there were a few “mystical” coincidences, but more often than not, one would simply receive something useless, vague, or simply un-extraordinary. To worsen the blow, they were not cheap - it cost the average person at least a weeks worth of savings.

But, like many before her, Darling knew that she could be different - that her cause was good, her life worthy of being revolutionized by the promise of fate, by the boon of The Mystery Box. Her hope soaring just higher than her trepidation, she finally mustered the courage to approach her destiny.

A bell rang to mark her entrance, as if the creaky wooden door wasn’t announcement enough. The air was clean and cool despite the seeming promise of dust and dryness the outside of the building gave. There were no windows, so the inside was lit only by ceiling lamps attached to fans which spun in hypnotic circles. The air made soft ripples in the black fabric that hung on the walls. Sewn into the fabric were dozens of questions marks of various colors and sizes.

In the back of the room was a wide counter. Two curtains draped either side and along the wall behind it were several brass pipes that entered and exited the ceiling and floor. They criss-crossed each other and twisted this way and that like neglected Christmas lights. On top of the counter was a display platform that one of the larger pipes fed onto. A large, ornate lever was next to it.

Smiling next to the lever was a woman on the brink of being called “old.” Her long, brown hair was threaded with veins of grey. She wore no jewelry and no make up, but every inch of skin Darling could see was covered with tattoos. She looked at Darling as if expecting her and her hands spread out as she exclaimed, “Welcome to The Mystery Box!”

Darling stepped carefully in the room and made note of the strange decorations as she made her way to the counter. She rummaged in a bag slung on her hip and pulled out a pile of bills,“One mystery box, please.”

The almost-old woman started counting the money and said, “How did a young girl like you get money like this?”

Darling looked away and muttered, “I found it.”

The woman looked skeptical but said, “Lucky you - what’s your name?”

“Darling,” she said, smiling a little - she’d always liked her name.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Darling. My name is Precious.”

“Really?”

“Cross my heart,” she leaned towards Darling and whispered, “but I tell everyone to call me Emily.”

“Why?”

Precious stashed the money behind the counter. She gestured vaguely to the store around her with one hand and put the other on the lever, “because mystery!” She pulled hard on the lever and there was a loud CLUNK as gears on the back wall began to shift and spin. A hissing came next as the pipes started to rattle. Eventually there was a smaller clunk and a thin, black, paper-wrapped box with a big question mark on it dropped onto the pedestal.

Darling took the package, frowning, “I thought I would be able to pull the lever.”

“It’s not the lever you paid for, Darling,” Precious chuckled, “It’s what the lever gave you.”

Darling thanked Precious and walked out of the store, completely ignoring the calls of “No refunds” and “thank you for your business.” She walked for a few miles to her secret place underneath an abandoned dock before pulling the package out of her bag. She looked around to ensure she was alone and began opening it. Each tear in the paper made her heart beat faster, each portion revealed brought her excitement closer to its peak. Finally, she opened the box and saw a black mask with the visage of an owl. She placed the mask on her head and cried as she lay under the dock, listening to the bird calls and rising waves of the coming tide. This was no house, no treasure, no feast, no escape. She lay there until her tears dried, then put her mind to work and tried to listen to what fate was telling her.

***

A week later, on a cold night, Darling broke into The Mystery Box. For the past seven days she studied the place, watching all who came and went. The Mystery Box didn’t have specific hours, but Precious always left before eight-o’clock. She had three keys for three locks which Darling had taught herself to pick with fish hooks and copper wire over the course of a few particularly stressful nights.

There were no cameras on the street, and none she could remember seeing inside. More importantly, she didn’t remember seeing an alarm system - and none ever went off during her lock-picking practice. Precious seemed to be the only one minding the store, and the bustle of the city, coupled with the old building’s own insulation made it so most of the noise made within the building couldn’t be heard outside.

At one-o’clock on a quiet Wednesday morning, Darling donned her owl mask and started her heist. She approached the empty street and pressed herself flat against the wooden door of The Mystery Box. Click, click, click went each of the locks and she slipped in, trying to open the door as little and slowly as possible to minimize the creak of the hinges and ringing of the bell.

She mostly succeeded, and after a few moments of listening for a response to her small ruckus, she decided it was safe to continue. She locked the deadbolts behind her and headed to the counter. With the lights off, the room was pitch black and silent except for the gentle whoosh of the ceiling fans, still spinning. She took a flashlight out of her bag and lit the other side of the room, now covered with the lowered black curtains which she slipped behind. She eyed the lever, dried her hands on her dirty pants and pulled.

CLUNK! The sound reverberated off the walls - much louder in the darkness than Darling remembered. As before, the pipes rattled, steam hissed, and gears spun - then, a final thump as a package fell into the display. She jumped down and tore it open. Inside was a studded dog leash which she promptly dropped on the ground. Next was an ornate key which she pocketed, then a flower vase, a pair of warm hiking boots, a deed to a three by nine plot of land in Nebraska - this went on until Darling felt her luck was being pushed - and that the machine was simply too slow and too loud. The noise made her anxiety rise to an almost unbearable degree. In a fit of half-desperation, half-frustration, Darling pulled the lever several times in succession, hoping it would release several packages at once and she could be on her way. Instead the steady creak of the metal turned to a groan which turned to a hollow scream. The pipes rattled and gears shot off from the wall, one of them striking Darling on the forehead, skewing her mask and causing her to fall off the counter.

She hit the ground and the wind was knocked out of her. She took deep, staggering breaths as the machinery around her calmed and sputtered. Darling fixed her mask just in time to see a small, plain brown paper-wrapped package pop into the display. If she hadn’t just seen it appear she’d wonder where it came from. Reviewing the scattered contents of the floor, she saw nothing but the black, question-marked paper - not one shred of brown.

Darling got to her feet and stood in front of the display, one hand rubbing her chest as she fully caught her breath.

There was a creak, a ring, then, “Don’t move!”

The lights turned on just as Darling was about to grab the brown package - she turned to see Precious standing in the doorway flanked by two police officers - one with his hands crossed against his chest, the other putting his flashlight away.

“This is the only way in or out,” Precious said. She eyed the mess of paper on the floor and added, “Why do they always make such a mess?”

“Take off your mask, kid,” The arms-crossed officer demanded.

Darling did as she was told, then put her hands up despite not being told to.

“Oh, Darling,” Precious said, “I was wondering if I would see you again.”

The officers exchanged looks and one of them rolled his eyes as they began to walk towards Darling.

“Hey, Darling,” one of them said.

“Hey, Steve,” Darling replied as she put her arms behind her back.

“Stop that, Darling - you know that’s not necessary.”

Darling moved her hands to her front instead where Steve handcuffed them. “Isn’t tonight a bit cold for this?” He asked.

Darling just shrugged as her pockets were emptied. As she was led to the cop car she overheard the other officer talking to Precious: “Emily, last time we came here we told you to put a lock on that lever - you’d have less to deal with when this happens.”

“And I told you - it doesn’t work that way, I—“ she cut off mid sentence. Darling turned to see what happened, but Precious wasn’t there anymore.

“Have a seat, Darling - we’ll be back in a minute. The heat’s on,” the cop said before closing the door and walking away. Darling closed her eyes. Oh well, she thought, at least I got to pull the lever.

Ten minutes later, the car door opened and Darling squinted up to see Precious standing there. She knelt down, holding the brown paper package.

“Did this come out when you pulled the lever?” She asked.

Darling nodded and hesitated before adding, “But not until I already pulled it a bunch.”

Precious stood, showed the cops the paper box and said, “This box belongs to Darling. It is hers.”

The cops looked at each other, shrugged and nodded.

Precious knelt and handed her the package, “Good luck, Darling,” she said with a wink before closing the door.

As they drove away, Darling turned the package in her hands.

“What is it?” Steve asked.

“I don’t know,” she replied, smiling, “But I’ve got a good feeling.”