Some times in life....you just have to do the right thing, especially when asked
by a complete stranger. And so it was for this young man who purchased
an antique trunk at a road side sale. (This is a copy- writed story, and not
part of Tales Unleashed.) Enjoy the read....and be aware of that next
purchase you make along your way. SS
The
Trunk ©
Daylight was
quickly being extinguished as I pushed the car up
the county
road that headed home. The sugar maples had dropped
at least
half of their leaves…and they quickly gave way to the push
of the tires
on the ’56 Ford. Oh that glorious Ford…pure steel and
heavy as a
tank…a car you felt secure in…and you knew that it would
get you home thru almost any set of circumstances.
It was
getting late in the day….the sun had just started to descend
behind the
trees in the West as I made my way up a county road
that I had
not driven in years… it was a little off the beaten path..
but who
knows what treasures might be found around the next
corner.
Just yards
ahead and to my right an old farm house came into
view,
surrounded by broken down pines and a fence that looked
well in need
of repair. The mailbox out front leaned dismally to
the left,
looking much like the house itself which was crying
for some
attention. A small sign tacked onto the mailbox
post simply
said, “many items for sale…make an offer”.
I braked the
Ford quickly as the car rolled up close to the
driveway…..a
cloud of dust engulfing all within a few yards
of my
approach.
I exited the
car and strolled through the tall grass and walked
to a rickety
lawn chair that sat in front of a pile of junk…well…
maybe the
man’s treasures…you know the old saying.
His head
perked up from what appeared to be a quick nap as
I approached
and he said to me “Make an offer on anything
you might
like…gotta git rid of some of this stuff before they
come and
carry me away.” He took a swig from an old canteen
that looked
like world war two vintage and re-looped it around
the front of
the chair.
“Been
collectin’ this stuff way too long now…and much of it
belonged to
the Mrs… but she’s been gone now many years ..
so it’s time
it’s out of here.”
My eye
scanned from left to right, seeing not much of anything
I’d be
interested in…but one item pulled me to it. The old
trunk had a
bunch of other stuff piled on top of it.. and I
slowly
removed the items…revealing what appeared to be a
very old
trunk…you know the ones that your grandmother
kept in the
attic with family heirlooms in.
I quickly
released the trunk from it’s doomed position and
flattened it
out on the long grass which really was in need
of mowing.
“I’ve got
the key that goes to that trunk if you want to make
an
offer.” My eyes quickly scanned the
outside of the trunk…
it’s aged
and cracked black covering hinted that it was at least
from the 1940’s…maybe
before.
“What are
you asking for it….just as it is…without me even
looking
inside?” The old man sat up on the edge of his chair…
rubbing his
bearded chin as if it was going to give him a number.
“Well young
fellow….I’ll tell you…you give me $20.00 for it.. and
It’s
yours. Don’t think you’ll find much in
it…but I really haven’t
gone thru it
stem to stern.”
“Deal” I blatted out quickly before he
could change his mind.
As I lifted
the trunk and headed to his position, I could see he
was getting
a well worn key off his chain. As he handed it to me
I traded the
key for a folded twenty that I had in my right pocket.
“Pleasure
doing business with you” I said as I hurriedly headed for
the
car…hoping he wouldn’t change his mind on the deal he had made.
As I drove away from the old house I had a
sense that this
trunk was
something special, but I had no idea why I would
think that.
I left the trunk in the car overnight as it
was getting late and I
had
encountered a long day, not including the stop at the old
man’s
place. The next morning I arose early… I
was anxious.
I placed the trunk on the kitchen table,
looking it over very
carefully as
I fixed my morning coffee and listened to the over
night news
on the radio. There was something odd about this
trunk…it
felt familiar, almost friendly….but I thought why should
that be?
I’ve never owned trunk before… and had really never
looked at
one..even in some of those fancy antique stores that
I’d been into over the years.
Yet, this
trunk seemed inviting. I gave the latch and lock a quick
squirt of 3
in 1 oil and gently eased the old scratched key into place,
turning it
ever so gently. Nothing. I exerted a little more force…and
within a couple
of moments the latch gave a loud pop…and it sprang
at me…almost
like a lion after a fresh piece of meat.
The ‘old
smell’ hit me directly in the face as I gently lifted the top
of the trunk
to its open position. My eyes glance quickly from right
to left
trying to take a review of what was in front of me.
Old pictures
to the left, stacked neatly by order of their size …
aged
newspapers on the right… yellowed and tattered from being
prisoner in
this dark and murky place that had no sunlight.
I removed all
the contents gently, placing them on the table
nearby…..a
small cloud of dust arose after each pile was
brought out
into daylight. Interesting I thought. How long had
these items
been in place… and why hadn’t the owner wanted to
take the
time to sort them, keeping and throwing as he went.
But, it was
not my concern, and I continued to handle the items…
curiously
looking at each bundle as they came out.
The last
picture at the bottom of the trunk was of a younger man…
looking to
be in his twenties, in a military uniform appearing quite
handsome and
robust. I removed the photograph with great care…
two of it’s
corners were bent and nearly detached. Flipping the picture
over I read
the following which had been printed in what appeared
to be
pencil…although faded, it’s message was clear as if had been
written
yesterday.
‘Dad…I
wanted you to have this…it was snapped of me just
last week
and I wanted to post it to you before we head to
Pearl Harbor
next week. Hope you are well…love you lots…
take care of
yourself.’ In an elegant written signature it was
signed ‘your
devoted son William Garson. Nov. 27th, 1941.
I stopped
for a moment…..thinking of the dates in my mind.
Had his
father sold me the trunk not aware that this photo
was inside?
Perhaps. Either way, it had to be returned.
I
immediately sat my coffee down, grabbed my keys and
headed for
the door, I wanted to return the picture to his
Dad…I’m
assuming who was the man who sold it to me.
As I drove
up that same dirt road… I glanced over at the
picture
which sat in the seat next to me….what a handsome
young man
this was, and I was sure his father would like the
picture
returned.
A hundred
yards out from the old man’s place I saw the blinking
lights of an
ambulance parked out front…and immediately
behind it, a
Sheriff’s car… it’s flashing lights also illuminating
the shadows
of the new day now in progress.
I grabbed
the photo and ran to the house just as the ambulance
crew with
stretcher in hand made it’s way thru the tall grass.
The old man,
pale but somewhat alert seemed to recognize me
as I
approached. “Mr. Garson…. Mr. Garson….I’m sorry you
are not
doing well today…but I need to ask you about this
photograph.”
He raised a
hand to the attendants to halt them in his
removal as I
positioned the photo within a foot or so
of his
direct eye contact. His demeanor went to immediate
sadness as
he recognized the picture displayed before him.
“That’s my
son William….he was 20 years old…in the Army,
and was
killed the morning they attacked Pearl. His mother
died 3
months later from a broken heart… I had forgotten
all about
the picture… placed it in the trunk fifty years
ago…it was
too painful to look at. Do me a favor young man?”
I opened my
mouth to speak but my throat was so dry, no
words came
out…only a nodding of my head in and up and
down
movement. “I’ve got a bad ticker so they say…this might
be my last
trip out of the house…will you make sure William’s
picture is
buried with me?”
Again, I was
speechless, and repeated the head nod in the
affirmative.
A strong hand grabbed my left arm and the
attendant’s
voice cracked with “ we have to go sir…he has
worsened
greatly in the last few minutes.”
With that,
they loaded the senior Garson in the back of the
ambulance
and it sped away. I stood there, numb, looking for
someone I
could speak with about his situation. I asked the
deputy that
was there if Garson had any family, and he replied that
he did
not…he had lived alone many decades since his wife
had passed
away.
I took the
picture, returned to the house and sat in the
Kitchen,
gazing at the old trunk… and the story that it had
brought to
me just twenty four hours ago.
For the next
day or two I kept tabs on Mr. Garson and his
condition…knowing
that if he did not come home..the promise
I had made
to him regarding William’s picture would be kept.
I wasn’t
family…. I never knew this man……not until yesterday,
but
sometimes you just are thrust into a situation that happens
to you, and
this was one of those.
I knew that
soon I’d be placing that picture with Mr. Garson…
and that he
and his son would be together again.
It was a
tough week…but it was my destiny, and when called
upon I would
complete the task.
No comments:
Post a Comment