The Red Door

Part One: Summer 1929, Chapter 3

Chapter Three

 The next morning Howard and I walked to school together for our first day of second grade. School was my favorite place to be. It was a time I was guaranteed to be safe, away from my mother. I had waited all night to ask Howard what he had done with the treasures we found.

"They're in my bedroom. Don't worry, I'm not gonna lose them!" he teased.

I spent the next two weeks doing two things: spending time with my best friends Helena and Howard at school, and worrying every day that the single button I hid in my drawer would be gone when I got home.

Sunday, September 15, 1929 was my seventh birthday. As I opened my eyes that morning, I wondered if my parents would remember. Birthdays were something we didn't make a big deal of, not like Howard or Helena's families did, anyway. I had never received a gift before, and even at seven years old I was already expecting not to. So I was surprised when I woke up that morning and my paternal grandfather John was in the formal room with my parents.  Everyone stood awkwardly near the rocking chair my father was seated in. As I walked down the stairs I saw my grandfather quickly hand my mother a package. Though I was used to walking straight out the front door and not returning until sundown, I felt obligated to greet everyone.

"Hello, Mollie," my grandfather said, formally.

"Hello, Grandpa," I said, giving him a limp hug. He patted me quickly on the back and said "Okay, now. Your mother has got a gift for you, haven't you Peggy?" He said, looking at the package he just handed to her.

My mother handed me the box, which was wrapped in brown paper and tied with twine.

"It's for your birthday, Mollie, you're seven," she said, as if I had no idea.

"Thank you," I said, not sure who to look at, but I ultimately met eyes with my grandfather.

"Oh, don't thank me, it was your mother's idea," he said. It was then that I understood what a white lie was. I turned to go back upstairs and open the gift, but my grandfather stopped me with his boisterous voice, "Aren't you going to open it?"

"She doesn't need to open it here," my mother interjected, as if she didn't want to see even an ounce of happiness on my face.

"Well, of course she does, I would like to see what it is that you got her," my grandfather said, raising his eyebrows pointedly. My mother opened her mouth, but no words came.

"Oh, just let the girl open the damn box where she wants to open the box," my father chimed in while looking out the front window. I was surprised he was sober enough to listen at all. On a good day my father was drunk. On any other day, including important ones like his only daughter's birthday, he was so far gone that he couldn't remember my name. Those were the days when I was referred to as "the girl", but today I didn't mind. I agreed with him. I walked upstairs to my bedroom to open the gift alone, because the last thing I wanted was to feel obligated to say thank you to my mother for a gift she didn't even buy.

I sat on my bed and untied the twine, thinking about all of the things that could possibly fit into a shallow, rectangular box, but all I could think of was it being empty. I opened the box to find a soft brown leather backpack with metal buckles. It wasn't new, or even very clean, but I loved it and it was mine. 

I decided to take my new backpack to Howard's, with no plan to return until the sun dipped below the trees, which was getting earlier and earlier each day. On my way to his house there was a tree not far from where the open field across from my house and the woods collided. It sat in the field all by itself. I had passed it hundreds of times before, but that day it looked particularly lonely, like someone forgot to invite it to the woods with the rest of the trees. As I walked closer and rounded the far side of the tree, I noticed a gaping hole in its trunk. I peeked into the opening, half expecting someone to jump out at me, but it was just an empty space. I touched the bark lightly, and it was strong, sturdy. Despite its faults, it still managed to stand, and from the road no one would ever know.

It was the perfect place to hide my treasures.

I ran to Howard's as fast as I could. He was just stepping off the front porch with my breakfast in his hand when I ran up, breathless.

"Mollie, what's wrong?"

"Nothing," I said, trying to catch my breath. "The box, can I have it back now? I found the best hiding spot!"

"Sure," he said, handing me the metal pail as he went back inside. It seemed like forever until he came back with my treasure. It felt good to have it in my hands again, it gave me a sense of ownership, like I had something to look after.

"Come on, I've gotta show you!"

We made our way to the lonely tree, where I showed Howard the new home for my treasures. With Autumn approaching, the woods were damp and cold, but the tree provided just the right amount of shade and breeze. It was my new favorite place. As Howard climbed the lonely tree, I ate the breakfast he brought me while I pulled the box out of my new backpack. When I opened it, it was overflowing with buttons, piled on top of everything else. We agreed that Howard would keep the other treasures, while I kept the silver box and all the buttons. I took every last thing out of the box and placed it all neatly in the grass in front of me. I studied the three photographs again, looking for details I might've missed before.

"Are you ever gonna stop looking at those photographs?" Howard whined jokingly from up in the tree.

"Not until I find out who they are," I said.

"Oh, great! You're gonna be here forever!" he said.

The words here and forever together sounded terrible in my ears. I wanted my forever to be anywhere but there.

But maybe the treasures would make it bearable, I thought. I counted all twenty three silver buttons, the peach pin with a carving of a woman's face, a necklace with a silver locket, the photographs, and...

"Howard, where's the ring?"

My heart raced as I looked frantically around the box.

Howard climbed down from the tree.

"I don't know, maybe we left it in the woods?"

"I don't think so, I know it was in here! We've gotta find it!"

I packed up the silver box and buckled my backpack. It fit perfectly in the nook of the hollow tree trunk, and I was sure no one would ever know it was there. We spent the rest of the day retracing our steps from the past few weeks in search of the petite gold ring. I felt that I had already failed as the owner of my new treasures. It was the first time I was responsible for something and I had already lost it.

That night I got supper despite my tardiness. My mother was much more apt to feed me during the school year because I was going be around people who might notice. I waited at the dining table a little longer than usual that night, but my mother never bothered to ask me what my birthday gift was, and my father just sipped his whiskey as he read the same newspaper he'd been reading all week. By the time I left the table I was glad they didn't ask. Even if they wanted to know, I had decided I wouldn't tell them. I had  a nice home for my backpack and all of my treasures at the lonely tree, hidden in the hollow trunk. I only wished I could fit in there, too.