Diamonds, At Least

Ben pulled Warren aside. He checked to see if anyone could hear. This was important.

“I have to tell you something. But you have to promise you won’t tell anyone else. No one.”

“Sure. What’s up?”

“I found… a treasure.”

Warren’s eyes widened. “What kind…?”

“You have to see. Come over after school. I’ll show you.”

Thrown together in their seventh-grade home room, Warren became Ben’s best friend. He’d never laughed so much in his life. Some of their teachers had reconfigured their seating charts five times in two months. A record.

~

A classic latchkey kid, Ben usually had the house to himself. Fine with him. His mother’s schedule required it. She worked long hours to pay the bills. He rarely saw her, except for dinner. And not always then.

He knew nothing of his father.

An only child, he liked his isolation and the freedom it offered. He did fine without intrusive ‘supervision.’

When his mother worked late, Mabel, the lady next door, checked on Ben to ensure he’d eaten.

“Come watch TV when your homework’s done, Ben. Don’t you and Marie still enjoy that? You’re always welcome, Ben.”

Marie was Ben’s childhood friend. He’d always spent more time with her than at home. Ben knew them better than his own mother. Mabel and Phil, Marie’s parents, joked about adopting him.

Something had changed though. Marie’s whole family felt strange to Ben. Had he offended them? He couldn’t repay their kindness. He grew up playing mud pies with her. Now Phil gave Ben the fisheye. Mabel’s invites had an edge to them. It didn’t make sense.  

Of course, everything got weird in the seventh grade. He couldn’t know most kids felt the same. His isolation made it feel unique to him. A multitude of new kids swarmed the hallways. And hormones flooded growing bodies.

So many things changed. Girls giggled at inside jokes and things only they understood. Socially ignorant, the guys’ evolutionary track appeared to be in retrograde. Masters of bouncing balls and video games, little else mattered. They traveled in packs.

Once close with Marie, Ben ached at their distance. While mowing the lawn, Ben saw Marie staring at him from her front porch. Had she shown any curiosity, he would feel examined.

So, Ben spent less time with Marie, Mabel and Phil. He didn’t belong. He preferred the silent house to feeling like a misfit among freaks. And he didn’t need to talk.

Alone in the house, he methodically explored cluttered drawers, cupboards and shoe-filled closets. These weren’t secret places, merely set aside and forgotten. Benign neglect felt familiar.

Who were his parents? Making sense of his mother’s accumulation of stuff might tell him. He didn’t know them. Had they known each other? Who could he ask? No one. Why not look for answers? Vital clues or connections might lie in the next bin.

Remote corners of the basement and attic held stacks of boxes, stowed untouched for years. Most were crammed with crockery, knick-knacks, and yellowed tax returns. Generations of spiders had flourished there.

‘Do spiders ever get lonely?’

He put the few letters aside for later. None came from his dad.

In one box, Ben found his father’s legacy, a collection of vintage Playboys.

‘Who else would keep these? Mom has the house, and I’ve got a pile of magazines.’

Ben never knew his dad. Not even a name. He left shortly after Ben was born.

‘Alive? Dead? Who knows?’

He must have lived, or Ben wouldn’t be speculating.

‘So far, I’m the sole evidence he ever existed.’

‘Why so little information? Doesn’t mom owe me that?’

Questions Ben asked her about him were dismissed.

He imagined playing catch with his dad. They could have told each other stories. Explored how the world works.

‘How great not to feel alone. To have more than a friend. A guide. A protector. A dad.’

‘Why no pictures around the house? Can’t she see…?’

‘Did I spring out of her with no father’s input? Spontaneous generation doesn’t exist.’

He’d heard of the virgin birth.

‘Could I be the result of one? Maybe. Doubt mom was a virgin, though. Not the type. Doesn’t even go to church.’

One day, Ben found a shoebox hidden beneath random papers in a bin.

‘What’s this?’

He peeled back yellowed tape and peered inside. Seeing the contents brought him to tears.

~

The next day, Ben told Warren about the treasure he’d discovered. He had to tell someone. His mother didn’t care. There was no one.

Marie came to mind. ‘Marie? Who’s Marie?’

He and Warren had no secrets.

Holding the ancient shoe box, Ben sat on the front step awaiting his friend’s arrival.

‘He won’t believe it.’

Marie watched from her front porch. Neither of them waved.

Ben saw Warren walking with Tyler and Smith. He held the box close and stood to face them.

Tyler said, “What’s this about a treasure? What’s in the box?”

Smith said, “Might be marbles. Hope you don’t lose them.”

Everyone laughed but Ben.

He spoke to Warren. “You told them?”

“They wanted to know too.”

“You promised… you said…”

Ben felt betrayed.

Tyler pointed. “Open the box, Ben. Whatcha got?”

Ben held the box out and lifted the lid to reveal a bunch of photographs.

Tyler laughed. “That’s a treasure? Anyone got a match?”

Smith said, “Treasure’s got to be gold or silver, or at least diamonds.”

Ben felt compelled. “They’re pictures of my dad.” He held one up. “See? That’s him with mom. He looks like me. But I’ve never worn a tux.”

Tyler added, “Not to mention he’s about three feet taller…”

“And here… He’s holding a baby. Me, I guess.”

Warren said, “He’s got your smile.”

“And look at this…” Wearing a dress Army uniform, the man held a large model airplane. “He gave it to me. It’s hanging in my room.”

Was he a hero? Ben thought so.

The others were not impressed. Warren kept an embarrassed silence.

“This is it? You promised treasure, Ben. Lucky you never knew him.”

They jostled each other and laughed.

“Yeah… Obviously a bastard.”

“Be glad he’s gone.”

“Probably come home drunk to beat you.”

Almost yelling, Ben fought back tears. “He left to protect a secret. He left rather than tell.”

Grinning, Tyler and Smith looked at each other.

Ben continued. “When I can drive, I’ll go see him. I’ll never come back.”

They nodded, as if to a child having a tantrum.          

Ben tightened his grip on the shoebox. “You don’t know. This is worth more than all the diamonds.”

Smith said, “Well, thanks Ben. That was exciting. Don’t forget where you bury it.”

Tyler laughed. Ben gave Warren a look. The three left Ben alone.

In the gloom, Ben laid on his bed watching the model plane turn lazily in the still air. Everything hung from a single thread.

He ignored Mabel’s signature knock.

He wondered, ‘What did dad want for me?’

The plane had always watched over him. It had hung, suspended from the ceiling, forever. His dad put it there. Ben no longer felt alone. But connected.

‘Someday, I’ll fly to see him.’

He felt loved.