Out of The Blue

Chapter 19

     The box now sits on my lap, but it took a long time to get it here. It's been three months and we're well into winter. It has snowed almost every day. I've finally been allowed to be left alone by John and surprisingly, by Lauren. I guess this whole thing scared her so much that she started caring for me and protecting me by not allowing me to be alone. I didn't want anyone questioning the box; I didn't want it taken away. I wanted to read it myself and protect it myself, of course Bob and Alice helped. I was questioned and asked to describe the men. I sat for hours next to the artist drawing my abductors faces. They were so real; they were so real it felt like they were there again. Looking at the drawings was like looking at them face to face again – like they were starring back at me again.

     Afterwards, I was also granted to miss school and do my schoolwork at home for about a month and a half. Bob was interrogated and is now under watch. It's rumored that he had something to do with my kidnap, which is why my stepdad hasn't allowed me anywhere near him. It's also rumored that he also kidnapped Alice and now she isn't allowed to come over my house – especially alone – and she has a stricter curfew. She's also not allowed to ride her bike alone anymore at night. It used to be at all, but she begged and begged, and time went by, so now she's not allowed alone in the evenings and nights.

     One of these cold, snow-filled days, after my stepdad finally decided he was going to his full shifts at work again, I called Bob to bring the box. He quickly went through his backyard and into mine. That tree he detested because its leaves would fall into his yard, now concealed him from any possible eyes that would rumor. He handed it to me through the back door and I hugged him before he left. It was unexpected for him, and I stayed a while there still hugging him.

     Finally, I have the box with me again on my lap, in my room, on my bed. I take out the envelopes again. Why is this letter written to someone specific? Could I be that person? I go to open it and luckily, it's not glued, but I'm still careful with it. My heart starts to race and butterflies flutter in my stomach. I don't know why I'm even nervous, but I take a deep breath and unfold the letter. This letter is extremely old and fragile, it's even yellowed and stiffened. The letter is written in the same beautiful French cursive with the same ink as on the envelope.

This letter is solely intended for and designated to my first 6th Great Granddaughter.

     Dear Granddaughter,

I hope all is doing well. For me, it is not. This is probably something you've not wanted to hear, but it is the truth. Maybe sometimes certain truths are better left as a lie, and if the truth should be told, then it must no matter how painful it may be. You need to know this in order to understand this letter. I wish I was there with you to see how you are; you might have gotten some traits from me, perhaps my dark and curly hair or perhaps the quality of understanding. It comes in handy when understanding for yourself and helping others understand. I am a man of possessions. I consider myself to be quite successful and so do others. Some of those others don't like that. Some are angered towards the success of others. When I say success, I mean the success of anything and everything: successful marriage, successful employment, or successful life in general. There will always be an angered crowed. And the truth is, it is jealousy. That is impeccably dangerous, and it does exist and it does happen, and it may even come from those closest and dearest to you. I have my own set of angry seagulls snapping at whatever they can snatch that they think belongs to them. They desperately want it to belong to them; without working for it.

Because I have those people in my life and if I'm being honest, I can trust not even my family... I, owner of the New York Erection and Operation of Ironworks of Pleasantville, appoint this letter to serve as a Will to be given to my first great, great, great, great, great, great granddaughter. This Will is to give the court authority to have all my money and possessions given to my 6-greats Granddaughter. I wish to appoint her to be the full inheritor of my possessions: my land in northwestern Hudson Valley, New York. 50 acres of the northwest portion next to a long island on the Hudson River now belongs to her. I appoint her the full ownership of my land in France which she will find with the help of the maps. And all of my money I appoint for her to own. Some may say I'm selfish but that is not the case. I have four men currently looking for me to take what I've worked for. These men have found me to have a lot of money and they want it. They are traitors. My own workers. Trust me when I say this: I gave them all they've needed, all that belongs to them and sometimes more than asked. I took them in with a big heart and they even became closest friends and I held them dear to me. I've paid their labors accordingly, but they wanted more. They got ambitious. They got ambitious and they were fine, finer and richer than the common people, than the general public. Not as me, but they were not struggling. And yet they wanted more.

I could not give them that. One: it is not theirs, and two: I also have a family to take care of and a business to maintain. Speaking of family; I also have members of my own blood who will betray me all for my riches. One of my nieces is dying to be included in this Will. I got tired of it, I am sick and tired of it. Because everyone wants to take it, because everyone has been so ungrateful towards me, because everyone seems to be with me just for the riches, then I will make sure no one gets it. I will make it out to someone who truly needs it – someone that I hope to be worth it, someone not from here. Not from here at all because she's not here yet, you - who I hope to be the one reading this. Sometimes, I wish I was poor and that way I'd have true friends and maybe even given actual true love for me and not for what I have. I must go now; I don't want them to find this place. I'm currently on the run to get this done and sent to my lawyer under the blasting thunder and lighting and pouring rain. I have other things I have hidden, and you will find them in the map; all of those things you find from the map, I also want to appoint for them to belong to her as well. I hope all goes well,

Sincerely, your very Great Grandfather,

Daniél Olmônd Rousseau

     I read the last words as tears subside down my cheeks whispering his signed name at the end, trying to see how it feels on my tongue to say that name.

"I know what it feels like," I whisper out through dripping tears. I know what it feels like to have someone take something away from you that's yours. I couldn't safeguard it like my Grandfather did, but I will be able to recuperate it thanks to this. I'm baffled and I still can't fathom that he's done something like this. It's not a map for whoever can find it, it's a Will written to me. Everything those lunatics wanted belongs to me now.

     I wipe the tears away and grab the other envelope with the map. It has another letter:

Here is a map to some things I've hidden. I could have included them in my Will, but I feared the malice and dishonest hearts of people. I find it hard to trust now. This will lead you to somewhere and something that will also lead you somewhere else, for example, you will first find my box of keys which will have another letter leading you to somewhere else you need to go that needs those keys. Good luck my dear.

     I open the map carefully and in the bottom right is a little house roughly sketched. He drew a trail leading me to the box of keys. That's the cabin, I think to myself immediately as I see the words next to the little house. I replace my comfortable pajamas for black skinny-jeans, dark brown laced up boots that go just a bit above my ankle, a sweater under my thick bulky sweater, a thick army green jacket with faux fur on the edges of the hoodie, and a black cozy beanie.

     I grab my small shovel from the garage and head out the door. I start my walk towards my cabin preparing myself for what I might find. Probably a mess, an enormous mess, or perhaps they've set it on fire and burned it to ashes. Whatever I may come face to face with, I need to start there. I stop at the end of my street, and look back to Bob's home, I'll make sure to say goodbye, and give you your part. I get my phone out to text Alice;

Marie: Going back to the woods, the letter said I had to.

     I pull my jacket zipper up.

Alice: Alone?

Marie: Yes. Don't worry I'll be okay, he won't be there I'm sure. They've already been there and found nothing. He won't go back.

Alice: You sure you don't need my help? I still have the stick!

Marie: Lolll, no, I'm good but thanks. I need to be alone.

Alice: Well ok, keep me updated.

Marie: Sure thing.

     I put the phone back in my back pocket, I take a deep, calming breath, and continue on leaving unnoticeable footprints on the almost melted snow. Once the sun reaches high and bright in the sky, the snow slowly begins to fade.