Forgotten Boxes by Becki Willis Read Free Book Online

sender, but there was no denying
the heady fragrance of maple that wafted from the box.
    She awoke with a start. Dreaming about the sugarmaker was almost
as troubling as dreaming about the boxes.
     
    ***
    After a restless night’s sleep, Charity had breakfast at the
café. She ordered an omelet and snubbed all things maple, ignoring the little pangs
of withdrawal as she drove out to the cottage for what might very well be the last
time, at least for this trip. With the exception of the bullet-riddled suit of clothes
and the mysterious boxes, her mission here was done.
    The boxes beckoned to her the moment she walked through the door.
She sat on the couch and examined them once more, searching for clues she might
have missed the evening before.
    The box from the jewelry store was small, about the right size
for a bracelet. She shook it, listening for a telltale rattle. Earrings? Perhaps
a ring? Did people even order engagement rings through the mail? Her curiosity itched
to know what treasure lay into the box, but propriety demanded she not open it.
Not yet, anyway.
    She moved to the next box, wondering what it could be. It was
heavy, and she thought she felt the shift of something liquid inside. A bottle of
wine? Maple syrup? Perhaps beauty products. There were hundreds of possibilities.
Thousands, in fact; so many of them swirling inside her head that it actually hurt
with the effort to think.
    Charity picked up the third box, turning it over in her hands.
Oddly enough, it had no return address. The recipient label was smudged, but she
could make out parts of the name and address. It was about the size of a shoebox
but heavy for its size. With no clues to even begin guessing, she set it aside in
favor of the final box.
    This box had taken up most of the trash bag, being by far the
largest of them all. It was covered in brown parcel paper, but the overlaying edges
were ripped and worn, revealing a green and yellow box beneath. She could see enough
letters and enough of the picture to recognize what she thought was a child’s kitchen
play set. The shipping address was from Montgomery Ward, a popular mail-order company
of the day.
    Charity reluctantly set the boxes aside as she went about tidying
the house, making certain everything was in order. Still, the play set haunted her
mind. She went back and checked the box at least a half dozen times, thinking she
may have been mistaken. Each time, she tore the paper just a tiny bit more, revealing
one more sliver of the box beneath it. Had it been a birthday present? One more
tug. An early Christmas present? Another hairline rip. What color was it, for a
girl or a boy? She would just peek under the paper for a hint...
    Thoughts of the unclaimed toy occupied her mind, even as she
faced the final and most difficult task of the day. It was easier, in fact, to concentrate
on the boxes than on the blood stained clothes. She forced herself into auto-mode,
performing the deed without thinking about it.
    Using a large trash bag as a shield, she never touched the cloth
with her skin. She worked her fingers from behind the plastic, holding her breath
as she shook the dust off the tattered outfit. The khaki was at least two shades
darker without the thick covering. As the dust fell to the floor, Charity stepped
back in a fit of coughing and sneezing. She would have to sweep again.
    She held the outfit at arm’s length as she wrapped it within
the bag and dropped it into a plastic storage bin. Her mind worried over the lost
toy, even as she packed away the final traces of her uncle’s last day on Earth.
Snapping the lid onto the box, she carried the whole affair out to the car and slipped
it into the trunk, out of sight and out of mind. It was hardly something she could
donate to Goodwill, and for some reason she was reluctant to throw it away, not
until she understood her aunt’s reasoning for keeping it all these years. Not until
she understood the truth behind her uncle’s