A Simple Find

It was rare that he got to see Sandra; the last time had been his mother’s funeral, when Sandra showed up to “support” Rachel. He and Rachel got to the cafe early to sneak in a quick meal and catch up on life, something he had been looking forward to. By the time Sandra burst through the door like a celebrity trying to escape the paparazzi, Rachel had told him all about her new job as a paralegal. He wished that he had good news to share, but things hadn’t been good for a while. His last gig in construction ended two months ago, and he didn’t have the heart to tell her that nothing new had come up since.

Sandra barely paid them any mind as she sat down, haphazardly throwing her clutch on the table. “Did you order already?”

Rachel looked at her with the same expression she always reserved for Sandra, a mix of loving care and years of residual contempt: “No, we were waiting for you”.

“Ok, get me a chicken salad, dressing on the side,” Sandra said, seemingly both at them and at the waitress who had just passed by. “And an ice water!” The waitress didn’t look too happy about having the order shouted at her, but slinked off into the kitchen all the same.

“Are you gonna tell us why you insisted on meeting in person? Or are we here just to keep you company!?” Cole hadn’t expected to burst out like that, let alone so soon in the conversation. The smirk on Sandra’s face told him that she wanted this reaction, making his urge to leave only stronger.

Sandra glanced around the restaurant before turning back to the two of them. “Cole, I have a feeling you’ll be interested… I heard from a little birdie that you were having money troubles-”

Cole glanced angrily at Rachel, just in time to catch her face turn a deep red.

“-and this could be just what you need to find your way out of it.”

“You think we’d fall for your bullshit again?” Cole retorted, “Last time I was the one who got in trouble for you!”

“I didn’t come here for your macho shit, Cole. The two of you are smart, and I can count on you. Now do you want to hear it or not?” Sandra eyed him curiously, toying with the salad that had just been placed down in front of her.

Cole and Rachel exchanged a quick glance, not daring to speak their thoughts out loud in front of Sandra. He could tell from her face that she wanted to leave. Instead, he turned to Sandra. “Let’s hear it”.

The plan, as Sandra laid it out, was simple. She knew a house up on Lamonte Court where some old lady was stashing a WWII era fortune. The lady lived alone, visited only by her nurse. This nurse happened to be a classmate of Sandra’s, which explains how she knew the code for the front door, and where the old lady kept her valuables – presumably. It didn’t sit too well with him that she was likely a holocaust survivor, what with her last name being Friedman, but he was on the verge of homelessness; he had little choice but to convince himself that he needed the money much more than she did.

He didn’t get much sleep that night, dreaming of an old, frail Hitler chasing him around with a gold pocket watch. When his alarm clock rang, he laid in bed trying to distract himself from what was to come and was nearly late to pick up Rachel.

Her tacit agreement extended only to waiting in the car; it was better not to involve her anyway. He parked his truck on the street opposite the old lady’s house, where Sandra was already waiting. He couldn’t help but notice how her outfit shaped her body, reminiscing back to when he could see as much of her as he wanted.

“Whenever you’re done ogling me, why don’t we do this thing?” She had a small satchel hanging around her chest, with what he presumed were essentials. He’d brought them too: a flashlight, a mask, some gloves, even a hunting knife. Not that he expected to have to use them… but it provided a sense of ease, and that he could certainly use.

Moving to the back of the house, they were surprised to find the backyard door unlocked. They exchanged a quick look of apprehension but both chalked it up to the nurse’s forgetfulness, and slid the door open.

It was completely dark inside, as they entered what looked to be the living room. Even the moonlight didn’t seem to shine through, leaving them to fumble around for flashlights. Eventually they could see that it looked just like any other old person’s house, with a thick coating of dust all over the furniture. Clearly, the old lady didn’t come down here often. They paced around the first floor, exchanging occasional glances as they went from room to room. He motioned to Sandra to follow him and slowly they began making their way up the stairs, trying to place as little weight on each step as possible.

Peaking his head out onto the second-floor landing, he could see only three doors. They walked up to the door nearest them, past the open bathroom door, and pushed it open. At one point this must have been her son’s room, or so the posters on the wall would suggest; the desk was still covered in action figures, and children’s clothes were laid out neatly on the chair beside it. But this room had an even thicker layer of dust than the rest of the house, and gave off a distinct sense that it hadn’t been opened in years. Cole had no desire to spend a minute longer in there, but Sandra pushed right past him and started rifling through the closet. “Don’t give me that look. If the stash is gonna be anywhere, it’ll be in here. It’s the perfect hiding spot!” She continued with what she was doing, paying no mind to him at all.

Deciding to leave that room to her, he stepped back out into the hallway. The door to the only other room on this floor was in front of him, and he knew exactly what, or rather who he’d find in there. The door creaked as he gently pushed it open, but the old woman in the bed didn’t hear him over the sound of her respirator. The natural spot to look would have been in the closet; people usually kept their valuables in a safe. But something drew him to the desk under the window. It was old, much older than anything he’d seen in his grandparent’s house. The wood was starting to decay from the dust and dirt that had accumulated on it, but he could still make out markings on the bottom right corner: RF, next to it JF, and underneath it, SF. Before he could give it much thought, he noticed a small pull tab coming from the underside of the desk and gave it a yank.

A drawer immediately slid out, clearly meant to be a secret compartment.

He thought for sure that he was about to find the stash, but was disappointed to see just a small black notebook, clasped shut, with an ornate silver pen sitting on top of it. It seemed that the dust hadn’t found it’s way into this compartment, leaving the book to look brand new. He picked it up, and turned it over to the other side. The back was also completely blank. Curious, he removed the clasp and opened it to the first page.

“November 8, 1939.

We left our old house today. Papa said we might be able to come back, but I think he was lying. He wouldn’t let me go back to grab Edna, and mama had just sewn such a pretty dress for her. I miss her.”

He flipped through to the end of the notebook, finding the last page to have any writing on it.

“June 20, 1975.

He’s gone. Tuberculosis, and the doctors didn’t even try. I thought I left this life when I left Poland. Without my boy, and without Jacob, I don’t know where else to turn.

I’m going to call her. She scares me, but what choice do I have left? I don’t want to be alone anymore”.

The words gave him an uneasy feeling as he read them, sending a chill down his spine. Just as he was closing the notebook, Sandra burst into the room. “Let’s get the fuck out of here. I got it!” She flashed a wad of bills, before shoving it into her fanny pack.

Without really knowing why, he tucked the notebook into his waistband and walked up to Sandra, deciding not to tell her about it. “How much are we talking here? That looks like a fat stack.”

“I haven’t counted it yet, but I’m willing to bet it’s at least 20k. Now let’s go!” She grabbed his arm and pulled him until they were downstairs. They dashed for the door, the car waiting just outside.

But Cole found himself unable to budge past the doorframe. He watched Sandra run on as though in slow motion. Something was stopping him from leaving no matter how hard he struggled. He tried the windows, but they wouldn’t open at all. He ran back up to the front door and yelled out to Rachel and Sandra; but either he wasn’t yelling at all, or they couldn’t hear him. Slowly, the car drove off.

Panic was starting to seize in his throat, desperation leaking through his body. Why couldn’t he get out? Why did they leave without him? He felt something burning in his stomach; pulling up his shirt, he realized the notebook was now hot to the touch – so hot that he couldn’t even keep his hands on it. It tumbled onto the floor with a loud thud and landed open on the last page that he’d read. Only now, new writing was appearing. He knelt down to make out what it said and found himself paralyzed with fear.

“She said it would take time. These things don’t happen overnight, especially when you want them so bad. I didn’t have the nerve to watch how she did it, so instead I gave her what she needed. Some of his hair. My blood. The umbilical cord I had kept. This notebook. And the eyes of an animal. It pained me to kill Suzie, after all the years she’d been with me, but I remembered how much she loved little Sam. I think she would’ve wanted this.

So, I waited: at times losing hope. I almost decided to let them unplug these machines and end my suffering, but I couldn’t give up. I needed to see my little boy’s face one more time, the way it was when he was still with me.

I’ve waited all these years for him to come back, and now he has. I will never let you go.”

As Cole looked up from the book, he found himself in the child’s room upstairs, with no memory of having moved away from the door. He wanted to scream, but his mouth wouldn’t let him. His mind was racing, trying to think of any way that he could get out of here.

Suddenly, he stopped moving. He was starting to feel cold blanketing over his body. He wanted to turn around, but he knew what was behind him. Who was behind him. He couldn’t see her.

But he could feel the old woman’s arms tightening around his body, with a strength that he’d never felt before. He wanted to leave, but he knew that he couldn’t.

The old lady had told him herself.

She was never letting him go.