The Box

THE BOX

The two sisters looked at the box.  It had just been delivered a few minutes ago, priority post. 

“Looks like someone paid a lot of money to have this delivered here,” said Nora, checking out the packaging.

“Yeah,” said Jules, “But why here?”

The parcel had been delivered to Jules’s house.  She was the older of the two sisters, married to Yves, mother to a rescue mutt named Barney.  And, unlike her sister Nora, lived in a sticks and bricks house.

“Probably that’s the only address they could find?” ventured Nora.  She smiled up at her sister.  “It’s hard to track me down, cuz, you know, van life.  I’m everywhere.” She waved her hands encompassing the world.

Jules nodded absently, staring at the package.  It was addressed to both of the sisters, in care of Jules.

“Did you notice the return address?” Jules asked.

Nora bent in to read the fine print.  “Yeah.  Some law firm in London, England.”  She considered shaking the box, but there were at least half a dozen “Fragile!” stickers affixed to all sides of the box, so she refrained.

Jules took out her phone and Googled the name of the law firm.  “It says that they are estate lawyers.”  She looked at her sister.  “Who would be sending us something from London estate lawyers?”  She shook her head.  “I don’t even know anybody in Britain, let alone someone who would bequeath me something when they died.”

Nora shrugged.  “There’s only one way to find out what’s in the box—open it.”

“I don’t know,” said Jules.  “What if it’s gross?  Or weird?  Or illegal?” she asked.  She turned towards the family room.  “Barney.  Come here boy!’ she called.

Barney came galloping out.  Galloping was the best way to describe the very large dog.  He was a huge chow/husky/poodle cross with dark fur, piercing blue eyes, and a black tongue.  Jules insisted that he was a new breed—a chowskydoodle.   He weighed over one hundred twenty pounds.  And he was the sweetest dog in the world.  She loved her fur baby.

“Sniff it, Barney.  What’s in the box?”

He tilted his head to one side and looked at her, as if asking huh?  She tapped the top of the box.  “What’s in the box, Barney?” she repeated.  Barney slowly walked over to the box and sniffed it, which took about five seconds.  He stopped and looked questioningly at Jules again.

“Well, I’m assuming that it’s not food,” said Nora.  “Barney would have jumped all over it if it was.”  She knew him so well.

Jules tuned to Barney and ruffled his head.  “Who’s a good boy?” she asked.  They all knew that the answer was Barney.  When Jules finished praising him, he turned and trotted away, returning to his afternoon nap, wondering what the big deal was.

“So,” said Nora.  “It’s not food, which is really good, because it’s a long trip from England, and that would be gross.”  She looked back the way that Barney had disappeared.  “I don’t suppose he’s explosives trained?  Or drug trained.”

Jules shook her head.  “No.”  She picked up the box.  It was fairly heavy.  “I can’t imagine that either drugs or explosives would make it past Customs.  Don’t they have sniffer dogs and detectors for that stuff?”

Nora nodded.  “True,” she said.  Both she and Jules watched Border Security, and knew that was the truth, at least according to television.  She looked at the box.  “Besides, who puts their return address on contraband?”

“Good point,” said Jules.  “Maybe I should call—” She looked at her phone where she had the law office contact information on the screen.  “—Jeffers, Jeffers, and King.  They should be able to tell me something.”  She looked at her watch.  “But, it’s what, four fifteen right now, which makes it—” She fiddled with her phone.  “—nine fifteen in London.  There’s probably no one in the office right now.”

“You could leave a message.”

“I could,” said Jules slowly.  “But, it’s easier to talk to a person.  I’ll wait until tomorrow.”

Both women looked at the box.  It wasn’t very big, maybe two feet by two feet by two feet—a perfect cube.  And, apparently, it was fragile.  That’s all they knew about their mysterious package.

Jules carried the box into the kitchen.  The women had been drinking tea and chatting when the parcel had been delivered.  Jules placed the box in the middle of the table, where they could both stare at it.

“What’s in it?” Jules asked, not expecting an answer.  “And why was it sent to us?”  Again, no answer was needed.

“Do you think you’ll be able to wait until tomorrow to open it?” asked Nora.  “I don’t think I can.”

Jules looked at her sister.  “Let’s wait until Yves gets home and see what he thinks.”

“Agreed!” said Nora, still looking at the box.  Yves was always the deciding factor when the sisters couldn’t make a decision between themselves.

When Yves arrived home a little after five, the sisters explained what they knew.

“So,” he asked,  looking at the box.  “Are you really going to wait until tomorrow, or do you want to open it now?” 

“Open it now!” said Nora, eyes sparkling.  She was the sister who couldn’t wait—she looked for hidden Christmas gifts as a child, and was not the person to tell a secret to.

“I’m not sure,” said Jules.  “Who knows what’s in there?  I vote we wait until we can call the lawyers.”

Yves looked at the box, then at Nora, then at Jules.  “Sorry, Babe, but I’m with Nora on this one.  I say we open it.”

Jules took a deep breath.  “Fine, let’s open it.  If it’s full of anthrax, at least we’ll all die together.”

Nora, who had been reaching for the box, stopped and looked at Jules.  “Why would anyone send us a box of anthrax?”  She squinted at her sister.  “I know I haven’t pissed anyone off. Have you?”  Jules could be a little acerbic at times.

Jules shook her head.  “I just mean what if it’s dangerous?  How would we know.  If we wait to talk to the lawyers, then maybe, I don’t know, maybe we’ll have a better handle on what’s in it.”

Nora shrugged, “Nope, I’m going in,” and started to carefully remove the brown paper that covered the box.  She gently pried the tape from the folds, and unwrapped the package.  It was, as expected, a cardboard box under the brown paper.  She stripped back the long strip of packing tape the held the top closed, then opened all four flaps and looked in.  Jules and Yves leaned in beside her.  

“It’s another box,” said Yves.

“It’s wooden,” said Jules.  She bent in closer.  She slipped her hand down the side, and lifted something out.  “And there’s this,” she said showing Nora and Yves an envelope.  She read the front, “Ms. Jules Decovney and Ms. Nora Quinn, Private and Confidential.”

“Open it!” said Nora.

Jules stuck her finger under the end of the flap, and dragged it down the short side of the envelope.  She slid a single piece of folded paper out.  Nora ran to stand beside Jules so that she could read the contents.  Unfolding it, Jules read:

“To:  Ms. Jules Decovney and Ms. Nora Quinn:   Re:  The Estate of Mssr. Villain Quick, 1844-1901—”  She stopped and looked at Nora and Yves.  “That’s his name?  Villain Quick?  Who calls their kid Villain?”  She shook her head and returned to the letter.  “As a client of Jeffers, Jeffers and King Law Firm, Mssr. Quick has entrusted our firm with the dispensation of his Last Will and Testament.  Please find enclosed a box with the cremated remains of Mssr. Quick.  Our records indicate that he is your Great-Great Grandfather on your Father, William Quinn’s, side of the family.”

Jules stopped reading and looked in horror at Nora.  “Cremated remains?  Eww!’  She took a step away from the box.

“WTF, Jules!  Who is this guy?  And why the hell do we have his ashes?” chirped Nora, who also took a step back from the box.

“Cool,” said Yves who moved closer and peeked into the cardboard box.

Jules looked back at the letter.  “It says that he’s our great-great grandfather, Dad’s side.”

Nora shook her head.  “Never heard of him.  I’m going to call Mom and see what she knows.”  Nora left the room.

“What else does the letter say?” asked Yves.

“We should wait for Nora,” said Jules, as she read the next paragraph to herself.  

Nora came back into the room.  “Mom says there’s a story, but she’s not sure of all the names.”  She took a deep breath.  “Apparently, our Great-Great Grandma, Eloise Crawford, found herself pregnant and alone after a man she was supposed to marry up and left her at the alter, never to be heard from again.  This man was from England.  Mom couldn’t remember his name, but she said it was an unusual one.  Luckily, a local man, Edward Frontenac, married Great-Great Grandma, and raised this other man’s son as his own, our great grandfather.  She looked at Jules and Yves.  “That sounds a bit on the money, don’t you think?  Maybe this Villain Quick, he of the unusual name, is the cad who left Great-Great Granny standing in the church.”

Could be,” said Jules.  She turned her attention back to the letter.  “Upon Mssr. Quick’s death in 1901, his will stipulated that his remains be delivered to his heirs.  Unfortunately, over the years, other family members have refused the bequest and the request that goes with it, and have returned the cremains.  With the death of your father, you, Ms. Decovndy and Ms. Quinn, are the last surviving members of Villain Quick’s lineage.”

“Wow,” said Nora.  “We’re the end of the line.”  Neither sister had shown any interest in having children.  Jules was quite content with Yves and Barney, and Nora enjoyed the nomadic lifestyle too much to consider having a child.

“Mssr. Quick’s instructions are for his ashes to be spread in a place of beauty.  His choice of final resting spot is the scenic overlook above the town of Minnewanka Landing on Lake Minnewanka, in Banff National Park, in the Canadian province of Alberta.  He has included a stipend to cover travelling costs, to be paid to you both, to ensure that his final wishes can be carried out.”

Nora looked at Jules.  “Banff is beautiful and all, but … “  She let her thought hang there.  

“I know,” said Jules.  “But we still  have to take some random long, long, long-lost relative’s ashes with us.”

“Is it even legal to spread someone’s ashes in a national park?”

Jules shrugged.  “Who knows.”  She looked at Yves.  “Is this too weird, or what?”

Yves smiled.  “I have never heard of anything like this ever happening.”  He looked at Jules.  “What else does the letter say?”

“‘Please contact me at your earliest convenience.  We look forward to hearing from you so that we can discuss the details of the bequest.  Sincerely, David S. Jeffers, Solicitor, Esq.’  There are a couple of phone numbers.”  She looked at Yves and Nora.  “That’s it.”

“Wow,” said Nora, staring at the box, or rather cremation urn, now that they knew what was in it.  “How much of a dick was this guy that in the last one hundred and twenty-four years, no one wanted to deal with his ashes?” She looked at Jules and Nora.  “Was he like a mass murder, or something?”

Jules shrugged.  “No idea.  Did Mom know anything else?”

“Nada.  She just barely remembered the story.”

Yves had been working on his phone.  “I have a Villain Quick mentioned in The Bath Chronicle from 1888.  It says that a Mr. Villain Quick was detained by police for fraud, but was released as the victim, a Miss Wilma Herd, refused to press charges.   It also says that Mr. Quick had a history of run-ins with the law and is well-known to the constabulary in Bath, England.”

“So, maybe, that’s why no one else wanted to deal with his earthly remains,” said Jules, trying to read over Yves shoulder.  “He’s a jerk  Or was a jerk.”  She looked down at the box.  “I wonder how many other Eloise Crawfords he left standing at the alter?”

The trio stood looking at the box.  “So,” sad Yves.  “What do you think you’re going to do?  Yeah or nay?”

Nora spoke first.  “I dunno.  I’m not sure that I owe this guy any loyalty.  From the two stories that we’ve heard about him, he doesn’t sound like he deserves any favours from us.”  She looked towards Jules, who stood with her arms crossed n front of her.  

“I don’t know, Nora.  We’re his only remaining family—the last of the Quick line.  I think we could show a little—I don’t know—compassion for a lost soul.” She looked at Nora.  ‘There’s no one else.  What happens to his remains if we don’t do this?  He wanted family to do this last task, and like it or not, we’re family”  She smiled at her younger sister.  “Plus, there’s an all-expenses paid vacation to Banff.”

Nora smiled back.  “Let me think about it.”

Three Months Later

Jules and Nora stood atop the overlook above Lake Minnewanka.  It was a beautiful spot—crystalline waters, forests, and snow-capped mountains.  But it wan’t the view that Villain Quick would have remembered it.  In 1941 the Canadian government built the Cascade Dam which submerged the entire town, so no more Minnewanka Landing.  The lake was still there, just no town.  It was still the beautiful location that Quick desired, so the women decided to go ahead with the request.  

“What do you say when you spread someone’s ashes?” asked Nora.

“I have no idea,” said Jules looking out at the gorgeous vista.  “But it sure is pretty.”  She looked at Nora.  “Let’s do this.”

“Do it!” said Nora.

Jules opened the box.  Inside was a linen sack with a ribbon securing the top closed.  As Jules started to untie the ribbon, it disintegrated in her hands.

“I guess that’s to be expected after more than a century.”  She lifted the sack out of the box, and tilted it.   But before the ashes were released, she said, “We didn’t know you, but we hope that you find peace after all this time.”  

She started to pour out the ashes towards the ground, but the wind grabbed them, swirling them upwards towards the mountaintops.  As she was pouring they heard a clinking sound in the bag.

“What the hell?” said Nora, thinking maybe Jules had been right about the danger.

Jules shook her head.  “I have no idea.”  She could now feel something solid and heavy in the bottom of the bag.  “There’s something in here,” she said, hand holding the bottom of the bag.

She raised her eyebrows at Nora, who said, “I’m not putting my hand in there.”

Jules turned back to the bag.  She could feel that there were four round disks in the bottom of the bag.  She held on to them from the outside of the bag as she released the rest of the ashes. Once Villain Quick had been set free, she turned the bag inside out.  The four round objects remained in the bag, each wrapped in its own piece of linen.

“What are these?”  said Jules, looking closely at the objects.  “And what are they doing in a bag of cremains?”  She squatted down, and gently plopped the disks on the ground, before turning the bag inside out and shaking it out completely.  “Goodbye Mr. Quick.  Safe travels,” she said.

The sisters turned back to the objects from the back.  Jules picked one up and blew on it, getting as much of Mr. Quick off of it as possible before unwrapping the object.  She gasped.

“It’s a coin.”  She passed it to Nora and unwrapped the other three coins.  

Nora was staring at the coins in her hand.  “I think they’re gold.”  She looked at Jules.  “Like, solid gold, Jules.”  Her eyes were wide.

Jules took one of the coins and looked closely at it.  Minted in 1861, American, head on one side, an eagle holding arrows and maybe a harp on the other side, the value of twenty dollars stamped on the tail side of the coin.  Jules took out her phone, and using the “search” feature on Google, snapped a photo of the tail side of the coin.  As she read the information, her mouth hung open.  She looked from her phone screen to the coin in her hand.

“I think it’s an American Liberty Head Double Eagle.”  She showed the info to Nora.  “One just like this one sold for over seven million dollars in 2021.”  

Nora gasped.  “Seven million bucks?’

Jules nodded, “Yeah! And all four coins are the same.”

“Wow!”  Nora looked in the box hoping for more coins.  “There’s another letter here,” she said taking out a fragile envelope that had been concealed under the cremains.  “To My Issue” was written on the front in spidery letters.  “Someone took handwriting seriously,” she said as she opened the envelop and unfolded the letter carefully.”

She started to read.  “I was not always a good man, nor a fair man.  But I always repaid a kindness.  Whomever you are, thank you for doing this kindness for me.  Please take these coins and have a drink in my honour at the Beach Hotel, the finest establishment Minnewanka Landing.  Thank you again.”  Nora smiled at her sister.  “If these coins are what you think they are, we’re going to have a lot more than a drink on Villian Quick!”