You're Not Alone

Chapter Thirteen

  I walked around aimlessly, picking up broken glass from wine goblets and picture frames, setting the pieces on the table. Chester and Chaz found the broom, dust pan, and dusting cloths. They hurriedly busied themselves, cleaning every inch of my dining room. At one point I told them they should go into the cleaning business, in particular cleaning up after séances since they were doing such a good job.

  They chuckled in response to my comment, but other than that, we didn’t say much of anything. They asked me sporadic questions about where I wanted them to put things, but kept to themselves as they righted the dining room chairs, moved the china cabinet back against the wall, swept the floors, and hung the one picture that had the glass still intact.

  Mr. Princeton and Andjela were speaking softly while they packed away her séance paraphernalia into a large canvas bag she used to carry the tablecloth and candles. I wondered what they were saying. I wondered if they truly believed Mr. Princeton’s parchment helped Matthew pass safely to wherever it was he was supposed to go.

  I surveyed the broken items on my table. The doors of the china cabinet had come open and half of the glassware and ceramics had been tossed out, broken. I thought about getting the Krazy Glue for a moment, but I gave in and got the kitchen garbage can and threw it all in there. I handed the bag to Chaz and asked him to take it out back to the unit’s large garbage containers. He smiled wanly at me and took the bag.

  After cleaning up my dining room, Mr. Princeton suggested we all sit down at the table and discuss what the message from Matthew might mean. I didn’t care anymore. I was too tired, too worn down emotionally, to think about it. Nonetheless, I listened.

  Fourth from the north, closest to the east. I remembered Matthew’s haunting voice, so hollow, yet so familiar.

  “I think the key here is he first said the attic,” Mr. Princeton pointed out.

  “So, ‘fourth from the north and closest to the east’ has to do with the attic,” Chaz surmised.

  “I would assume it means a location. Like coordinates on a map!” Chester added enthusiastically. “This is so exciting.”

  I looked at Chester. From the day we showed up at his cemetery, he was beyond thrilled at the anticipation of being a part of this. Most of me admired his excitement and his unwavering assistance. Another part of me wanted to slap him. I didn’t seem to find any of this exciting. Go figure.

  “Do you want us to accompany you to the attic?” Andjela asked. “After all, this is your message.”

  “You’ve all been a part of this. You’ve helped me finally receive Matthew’s message. I can’t tell you how much it means to me, but I don’t think it’s over and if you’re all okay with it, I’d still like your help to figure out what he meant.”

  “Then let’s go to the attic and find out,” Mr. Princeton said with a grateful smile.

  I was the last one to leave my apartment. I looked around the living room before I shut the door. There was no unordinary movement or noises. What did that mean? My thoughts made me stop.

  I ran back to the dining room and hurriedly looked around for the locket. I saw it on the floor under the radiator. I quickly picked it up and flipped it open. It was empty, but for some reason it didn’t upset me. I smiled because I knew a picture of love would be there eventually. As Andjela often said to me, I just knew it. I placed the opened locket on the dining room table, and went to join the others in the attic.

  By the time I got up to the attic, they were all standing in the middle of the expansive room. The attic covered the length and width of the house with no divisions. It sometimes felt like a basketball court. I often joked with Matthew that we should put backboards and baskets at each end and come up for a game once in a while. He made me realize the tenants might not like the consistent bounce on their ceilings.

  “If Chester is correct, this side of the building faces north and that wall there is east. So whatever he meant would have to be here somewhere,” Mr. Princeton said, heading in the direction he was referring to. We made our way through the boxes, crates and all the junk that was piled throughout. After buying the place, Matthew and I discovered that each apartment was given a section of the attic. Not surprisingly, our quarter of the attic included the northeast corner.

  “What do you think ‘fourth from the north’ means?” Chaz asked.

  I looked around. In the dim light we could see stacks of boxes in rows. It had been so long since I was up here I forgot what we stored in the attic, let alone how we stacked it. We left aisles between the rows of boxes like a maze. As I made my way through our stuff, I suggested, “Maybe the fourth row of boxes from the north wall.” Taking my own suggestion, I proceeded to count to the fourth row as my cohorts joined me. “But it would also have to be the stack closest to the east wall.” There were five boxes heaped upon each other. “Here.” I stopped. “I don’t even remember what’s in these.”

  “Why don’t we each take one and go through it?” Mr. Princeton proposed.

  “I have no idea what we’re looking for,” I muttered, but I took the first box off the top anyway and set it on the floor next to the stack. I sat down next to the box and opened it as Chaz, Chester, Andjela, and Mr. Princeton each took a box and found a vacant place to set it down and go through it.

  Inside the box I was searching were piles of old negatives and pictures before digital invaded our world. This was the first time I went through anything personal of ours, except for the day Matthew’s sister came over and I sent her home with things for her parents.

  I sifted through the pictures, fighting back the emotions each one flooded me with. I moved through happiness, sadness, loss, and laughter remembering each moment I saw on a paper print or a strip of cellulite.

  “Nothing I can see here is of any significance,” Chaz called out. Everyone else echoed their sentiment.

  I softly closed the box. “Nothing here either.” I stood up. Frustration was now pushing all those reminiscing emotions out of the way. “I thought…”

  “You thought it would just jump out at you,” Chaz said. “Ah honey, I’m so sorry.”

  “Now what?” I asked through tears. Chaz came over and hugged me.

  “Quinn.”

  I looked around Chaz to see Mr. Princeton staring at the floor where the boxes had been stacked.

  “Quinn, look.” I followed his gaze to the floor but I didn’t comprehend what he was seeing. I stepped away from Chaz and took a closer look. The floor was made up of planks of wood, side by side. It was actually a beautifully stained floor for an attic.

  Mr. Princeton walked to the north wall. “One, two, three, four,” he said as he pointed to each plank “Do you think?” He pushed the stack of boxes toward the next row of boxes, knelt down, and stroked the edges of the fourth board. It had a break near the east wall because the board wasn’t long enough to make it all the way to the wall, so another was cut to fit. “Feel here.” I squatted down. Mr. Princeton took my hand and ran my fingers along the edges of the short board.

  “Chester, have you got a crowbar handy?”

  “You bet. I’ll be right back.” Chester ran out of the attic. A few minutes later he returned, out of breath, with a crowbar in his hand.

  “I hope that’s from your car,” Chaz chided him.

  “I was a Boy Scout. Always be prepared.” He winked.

  Andjela, Chaz, and Chester stood behind us and peered over my shoulder as Mr. Princeton took the crowbar and began to pry the board up.

  None of us spoke a word. I believe we were all holding our breath at the moment Mr. Princeton lifted the board. He loosened the board but didn’t remove it. Instead, he held it slightly opened. Mr. Princeton looked at me. “It’s your message. You look.”

  I nodded to him and peered underneath as Mr. Princeton lifted the board. In the space below was a small wooden box. There appeared to be nothing else but insulation. I knelt down and gently removed the box. Mr. Princeton felt around the hole to make sure there was n
othing more.

  “That’s it,” he said. He had an odd look on his face I’d never seen before.

  I wasn’t ready to open the box, but I knew everyone was anxiously waiting to see where the last few days had taken them. I held the box in my lap, head down as more tears streamed down my face. I didn’t know why I was crying, but I knew I didn’t have the emotional strength to satisfy everyone’s curiosity. That made me even sadder.

  Suddenly, I felt a source of strength surge through my body. I looked up to see Andjela kneeling next to me, her hand on my shoulder once again, giving me reassurance. I took a deep breath and looked at the box. I realized it was a twin to the one Mr. Princeton had on his table near the door from which he produced Andjela’s business card. Was that the reason for the strange expression on his face when I pulled it out from under the floorboard?

  On closer inspection, I saw a lock. Disappointment took hold of me. I set the box down and reached into the hole, feeling around the insulation, hoping the key was there.

  “What’s wrong, Quinn? Why aren’t you opening the box?” Chaz asked.

  “It’s locked. I need a key. There’s no key,” I said, frantically searching the hole. “There’s no key!” I felt I was going to lose control.

  “Use the crowbar. Break it open if you have to,” Chester exclaimed.

  Irritable and frustrated, I started to pick up the crowbar but felt Andjela’s hand on my shoulder once again. I looked up to give her a nod of appreciation, but it wasn’t her. It was Mr. Princeton.

  “Wait,” he said quietly. With his other hand he guided me to put the crowbar down. He reached into his breast pocket and produced the same skeleton key he used to open the box and display case in his apartment. “I gave Matthew this box the day he told me he had cancer. It seemed like the right thing to do at the time.” He handed me the key.

  “And you didn’t give him the key?” Chaz asked seemingly a little annoyed.

  Mr. Princeton looked at me. “I told him to put his wishes and dreams for the both of you in it. We made a pact that the day he was cured, I would unlock it for him and he could share them with you.” I saw a tear in the corner of Mr. Princeton’s eye. I never saw this man cry. I never knew he gave this to Matthew.

  I looked back at the wooden box. There were too many secrets, too many things I was finding out I didn’t know about Matthew’s relationship with Mr. Princeton. Now I was going to have to open a box he gave him, one with dreams and wishes that he never told me about. How would any of this help my situation?

  I felt sick to my stomach. I didn’t want to share Matthew’s dreams and wishes with anyone, not even Mr. Princeton. They were for me, and me alone.

  Even more, I didn’t want to share the disappointment I would feel when I saw there was nothing to help me keep my home, my cottage, and my business.

  I looked at everyone. Anticipation filled their eyes. I was angry that I would have to open the box to satisfy their curiosity, yet I felt I owed them at least that. I saw something in Andjela’s eyes that dispelled the mixed-up feelings inside me. It was hope.

  I took the key from Mr. Princeton and unlocked the box. I slowly lifted the lid and saw a clear plastic sandwich bag inside. I removed the plastic bag. Inside, of all things, was a business card.

  “You and Matthew think alike,” I said with a smile to Mr. Princeton, remembering Andjela’s business card he removed from a similar wooden box and handed to me over a week ago. He returned my smile.

  “What’s it say?” Chaz asked as he pushed forward to look over my shoulder.

  “It’s her answer,” Andjela said quietly. “That’s what Matthew told me before he left.” We all looked at Andjela. “He didn’t tell me anything else. All he said was, ‘it is her answer.’”

  “And you didn’t feel that was important enough to tell her?” Chaz almost shouted.

  “Chaz, I think she was a little busy saving his soul,” I mildly reprimanded him.

  “How about while we were cleaning up the dining room? She could have told you then.”

  “I didn’t know if we would find it and I didn’t want to get her hopes up.” Andjela smiled at me despite Chaz’s chastising.

  “It’s okay,” I said. “We wouldn’t be this far if it wasn’t for her help.”

  “What does the card say?” Chester asked. I was grateful he interrupted.

  I sat back on my heels and sighed. “Harris Brentworth O’Brian, Attorney At Law. There’s a phone number. That’s it.”

  “Well girl, you gotta call,” Chaz exclaimed. When I didn’t answer, he asked, “What’s wrong?”

  “I don’t know. According to Mr. Princeton, there’s supposed to be Matthew’s dreams and wishes in here. Why would Matthew hide the business card of a lawyer, here of all places?”

  “Maybe the business card is his wish,” Mr. Princeton said softly, and in his eyes, I saw genuine compassion, a reason I knew now why Matthew took to him so much.

  “You won’t know until you call,” Chaz persisted.

  “It’s Saturday night,” I replied.

  “Oh, that’s right.”

  “I’ll call Monday.” I put the business card back in the box. Mr. Princeton replaced the board and slammed his foot on it to get it back into place. The whole time Chaz was staring at me.

  “I promise. Monday morning. Okay?”

  “Okay. I say how about we go to that recluse diner where they don’t care who you are or what you’re wearing and get some food. I’m hungry after all this.”

  Andjela smiled. “Sounds good to me.”

  “Well Chaz, I never expected you to go for a duplicitous diner. Doesn’t seem to be your style.” Mr. Princeton smirked.

  “If the food is good, I don’t care what type of diner it is and it doesn’t matter how anyone else dresses. Only how I dress.” Chaz turned and left the attic. The rest of us broke out in laughter as we followed him. Chaz did like his food…and his clothes.