The Eyeless Betties

“Come help me, Ami,” her mom called from the attic. “Look what I’ve found up here.”

Ten-year-old Ami came running with curiosity. She loved finding all the interesting things Gram left in her old house that was now theirs. Running up the steps to the open attic, she saw her mom struggling with a green bowl-like object which sat on a pedestal.

“What is this thing?” Ami asked as they labored to pull it down the attic stairs in two pieces.

 "Another treasure this old house has given us,” replied her mom. “It’s been full of surprises for us to explore, hasn’t it?”

“It’s ugly.” Ami brushed the dust from the gilded pottery. “What’s it for?”

Her mother narrowed her eyes and lowered her voice to a whisper. “Maybe a cauldron? Or an urn? A stew pot for boiling skulls?”

“Mom!” Ami’s eyes got big. “Stop scaring me.”

Claire laughed out loud. “I don’t really know, honey, but I’m going to use it for a planter.”

“Still think it’s horrid with those weird-looking faces all over it.”

“It has a history, I’m sure.” Claire said as they set it up in the sunroom. Pouring a package of potting soil into the twenty-inch diameter pot, she pushed a hole in the dirt and planted a few African violets. “It will be pretty in here, don’t you think?”

Ami wrinkled her pixie nose. “Looks too big for this small room.”

“Well, it will be a conversation starter, that’s for sure.”

Ami took a closer look at the strange ‘planter’ which stood four feet, almost the same height as herself. She traced her finger over one of four macabre faces embedded around the top. “These lady faces all look alike with their long brown hair.”

“Maybe they represented something instead of someone,” said Claire.

The longer Ami studied them, the more her curiosity grew. “Mom – why don’t they have any eyes? There’s only a hole where their eyeballs should be.”

“Hmmm. Sounds like a mystery to me. Maybe you could make up a story,” her mom teased. “We’ll have to invite Grandma Jo over. It was hers, so I’m sure she knows more about it.”

The next week, Grandma Jo came for a visit and dinner.

“Thank you for rescuing me from that stuffy old nursing home, dear. Even if only for an evening.”

“We’re lucky to pull you away from your painting and books, Mom,” replied Claire.

“Grandma Jo!” Ami ran to throw her arms around her elderly grandmother. “I’ve missed you so much! Come, look!” Ami pulled her grandmother by the hand into the sunroom where the green monster monopolized the small room.

“I’ve always loved this room,” said Grandma Jo. “It was my mother’s favorite room, too. She read me a lot of stories in here.”

“As you did to me,” Claire reflected. “And you wrote a lot of stories and painted in this room, too.”

“I love your house, Gram,” said Ami. “It’s so big and has so many rooms! And it’s so…so…”

“So old?” chuckled Grandma Jo. “Like me.” She laughed again. “This old house has been in the family for four generations now.”

“It definitely has character,” commented Claire.

“You’ve fixed it up nicely, dear.” Grandma Jo settled into an overstuffed chair. Her eyes were drawn to the green planter. “I see you’ve found the Eyeless Betties.”

“What?” Ami’s curiosity instantly piqued as she leaned in closer to her grandmother.

Grandma Jo’s eyes twinkled seeing the girl’s interest. “Oh…that’s just what I named it. The Eyeless Betties.” She pointed to the planter.

“Where did it come from, Gram?”

“It belonged to my mother who inherited it from her mother. We were told it was made by the Native Americans.”

“The Sioux?”

“Why, yes! Aren’t you a smart one?!” Grandma Jo patted Ami’s arm.

“But if the Indians made it, how did your grandmother get it?”

“After your great-great granddad died, your great-great-grandmother had to go to work. She became a housekeeper for Governor Elrod of South Dakota in the early 1900s. Before he became governor, Mr. Elrod worked with the Bureau of Indian Affairs and was a good friend of the Council of Chiefs. Out of either some trade deal or as a gift, they presented him with this unusual urn.”

“Urn?” Claire’s response was sudden. “What did they have against him?”

Grandma Jo chuckled. “It was worth a lot of money then, or so the story goes.”

“These women’s faces kind of do look like Indian squaws. Do you think they mean something?”

“There are four of them – one on each side. Is that right?”

“Yeah…” Ami examined them again.

“Well, my guess is that they represented north, south, east, and west. They may have been a symbol of protection over every direction of the household.”

Claire gave her mother a curious glance. “Are you making up another story?”

“My theory, that’s all.” Grandma Jo unconscientiously twirled the green gemstone ring around her finger. “You can think whatever you want.” Grandma Jo winked at Ami.

“But why no eyes?” asked Ami.

“That’s always been a mystery, sweetie. Some say there used to be large emeralds embedded the eye sockets.”

Ami’s face lit up with imagination. “Emeralds? Wow! Where are they now?”

“Oh, I suppose someone pried them out or chipped them off little by little until the urn lost all its value.” Grandma Jo cupped her hand to her mouth as if telling a secret. “Maybe they’re still hidden on the property. Who knows?”

“Oh, Mother. Seriously?” Claire spoke up with half a scold. “You’re such a storyteller. How do you know they were emeralds?”

“How do you think your great-great-grandmother purchased such a large house and land?”

“Really? Are there still emeralds hidden on the property?” Ami’s excitement lit up her eyes. “Where, Gram?”

“Oh,” she stopped to think, scratching her head, “I imagine they could be anywhere, if any are left.”

“It’s only a fable, Ami. You can’t believe everything Gram says,” Claire said, shaking her head.

Grandma Jo’s laughter brought tears to her eyes. “But I’d check out the attic again if I were you,” she whispered to her granddaughter.

“I’m going to go look!” Ami squealed as she scampered toward the attic stairs.

“Mom, you really need to stop encouraging her,” Claire said. “You know she believes every word you say.”

“She has a great imagination. Let her have fun with it. Someday, you may believe me, too.” Grandma Jo said with a wink and a grin.

A few years later, Grandma Jo passed. No emeralds were ever found, and all had been forgotten about stories of treasure. Ami had searched the attic from top to bottom, but beyond finding some unusually wonderful antiques, she found no emeralds. Now as a teenager, she had given up any hope that Gram’s stories were true.

Upon the reading of the will, Claire, as the only child, learned about a lockbox at the bank. She had already inherited the house and land from her mother, but she hadn’t known about the lockbox. Hurrying to the bank with key in hand she opened the lockbox with trembling hands. Inside she found a letter addressed to ‘Ami,’ her mother’s green gemstone ring, and a beautiful single pendant emerald necklace. Could it really be? Claire wondered.

“Grandma Jo left this for you, Ami,” Claire handed the letter to her daughter.

Ami hopped up on the couch and tore open the envelope, eager to see her Grandma Jo’s message.

“My dear Ami,

I have always loved your sense of adventure and imagination. I loved watching you go on your treasure hunts (even those I sent you on). It was fun to see how far you searched for the lost emeralds of the Eyeless Betties. The stories I told you about your great-great-grandmother were true. My grandmother’s name was Elizabeth Barton. People knew her as Betty Barton, and that’s why I named the urn after her. After my grandfather died, she went to work. Receiving this urn as payment brought her great fortune. She used most of the jewels to buy this house and property. From the pieces of emeralds that were chipped away, she had jewelry made. The necklace, my emerald ring, and an emerald and diamond bracelet were created as heirlooms to pass down her legacy. They are yours to keep or to sell. They should bring a great price and should get you through college and beyond. Or, keep them for your nest egg someday. Grandmother kept the urn as a constant reminder of her good fortune.

 Never stop looking for the unknown, Ami. Look to solve the mysteries life brings you, because clues are everywhere and in small cabinets you least suspect.

Love, Grandma Jo

Ami handed the letter to her mom. “I don’t understand, Mom. You have the ring and necklace, but where’s the bracelet?”

“Another mystery, Ami. Grandma Jo loved her mysteries.”

Ami stretched forehead upward in thought. Grandma Jo knew I love mysteries too. What did she mean by ‘the small cabinets I least suspect’?

The thought drove her crazy as she went through every cabinet in the house one more time. Trying to decipher Gram’s words were like a puzzle. Maybe I need to think like she thinks, Ami thought. What is it about the small cabinets? Suddenly, she knew what it meant. Running up to her room, she hurried over to a little doll cabinet her grandpa had built her when she was younger. It was a special cabinet with secret compartments and drawers. Only used to store doll clothes, she hadn’t touched it for years. More than once, it was almost tossed into the second-hand bin. 

Pulling out one top drawer completely, she reached her hand into the opening. Finding another tiny lever, she turned it which popped open another drawer. As it slid out, she opened the top with excitement and held her breath at the bundle she saw. An old floral cotton handkerchief was tucked securely in the drawer and folded into a small square.

Ami picked it up with gentle care and felt the weight. Hardly able to breathe, she lifted the folds back to discover a dazzling emerald and diamond tennis bracelet sparkling with brilliance in the light. She knew just by looking that it had to be worth thousands of dollars. She put it on and admired its delicacy and beauty, a small piece of the Eyeless Betties. She thought long and hard about her grandmother’s advice. Would she really want to sell this beautiful bracelet? Taking it off, she folded it within the handkerchief once more and put it back in its hiding spot, wondering when her Gram had time to hide the bracelet there… or had it been there all along? Another mystery.

“Hey, Mom,” she said as she entered the kitchen where her mom was making supper. “Did you put the necklace and ring back in the safe box at the bank?”

“Of course, dear. That’s the safest place until we find a buyer.”

“…or keep them.” Ami responded.

“Why? Did you find the bracelet?”

Without a skip in her voice, Ami answered with a knowing smile. “Maybe I will someday. I’ll keep looking for clues like Grandma Jo said.”