Chapter Three

Ch. 3 of Any Old Thing Will Do

Any Old Thing Will Do

Chapter Three

The box sat untouched throughout Jenny’s birthday dinner. Untouched, but not forgotten, as every so often she would glance over and see it sitting there and was once again caught up in wondering what could possibly be inside. She knew better than to ask again if she could open it, just yet. Not with her mother sitting there, looking mildly anxious because she had agreed to keep her phone off for the rest of the night. Trevor too kept looking at the box, from his perch on top of Mr. Strumpet’s lap. ‘Something amazing must be inside,’ she thought as she took up a spoonful of her cake and popped it into her mouth.

The last of the cake was served, and tucked away, and the ice cream swept back to the freezer before it became a tub of frothy goo. And finally, glancing from her mom to her dad, Jenny asked, “Can I open it now?”

“All right �" “ her father began.

“Jenny,” her mother warned, fixing tired eyes on her. “Not until you say the magic word.”

She thought hard for a moment. “Collywobbles?” She finally pronounced. Of course she knew that her mom had meant ‘Please’ but Collywobbles sounded much nicer. She’d heard somebody say somewhere before, and had always liked it. But the sudden frown on Mrs. Strumpet’s face made her realize that she had probably said exactly the wrong thing. “Please?” she finally said after a moment.

“Next time, try and be a little more polite,” Mrs. Strumpet said, as Mr. Strumpet picked up the box and walked over to Jenny, setting it down on the table in front of her.

It was a small thing, and perhaps more exciting because of that fact. There couldn’t be anything practical like books or clothes in a box that small. Hesitating just a little, she finally reached forward and took hold of the bright blue wrapping. Tearing it away she found herself staring at a small wooden chest, covered in gold scribbles that looked like letters in an ancient language.

“What is that?” said Mrs. Strumpet, now leaning forward to get a better look at the box.

“You mean you don’t know?” asked Mr. Strumpet. He leaned forward, touching a finger to the top of the box. “It looks like Greek to me. Ancient Greek. Where did you say you got this?” he asked.

“At Grumman and Fletchley’s, in the toy department,” she said. Trevor squealed and leaned forward, trying to touch it as Mrs. Strumpet stood and skirted the edge of the table to stand next to Jenny.

“I didn’t know they had a toy department,” he replied. Now, with both her parents looking over her shoulder to see what could possibly be inside, she pulled back the lid. The box gave a noisy creak as it fell open.

There was a rush of air. It was dusty and cold. It wasn’t pleasant. Overheard, the light flickered and a faint rattle echoed through the rooms of the house. Then, just as suddenly as she had felt it, everything was normal again. Jenny glanced inside the box, thinking for a moment it was empty. Then she reached down into the very bottom and picked up a small leather bag.

“What is that?” said Mr. Strumpet as Jenny pulled the strings and the mouth of the pouch opened. Inside there was a shimmery gold dust.

“I paid fifty dollars for this?” said Mrs. Strumpet. “A bag of sand?” She reached out and took the bag from Jenny, first sniffing it and then dipping a finger inside.

“Hold on,” said Mr. Strumpet. He disappeared from the room. Mrs. Strumpet put the bag back down on the table as Trevor started to cry. “Don’t touch that,” she warned as she too walked out of the room. Now left alone, Jenny of course did exactly the thing that her mother had told her not to do. She picked up the bag, shaking it gently. A small golden cloud lifted up into the air and hovered there for a moment before fading away.

‘It must be for making wishes,’ she decided, as the thud of footsteps from the stairway announced that her dad was returning. He had brought his computer, and plunking it down on the table beside the box started to type.

“What are you doing?” Jenny asked as she moved closer to see the screen.

“I’m going to figure out exactly what this is,” he said as he reached out and closed the lid to the box. “You see these letters? They’re in a different kind of alphabet than the one we use. If I can figure out what the letters mean, I may be able to figure out just what your mom bought you.”

Leaning her elbows on the table and fiddling with the string in the top of the pouch, Jenny sighed. “Mom forgot my birthday again, didn’t she?”

“She didn’t forget,” said Mr. Strumpet as he typed. “She’s just been really busy, that’s all.”

“Is it because you can’t find another job?” she asked, and this time Mr. Strumpet did pause for a moment, fingers hovering over the keys as he glanced over at her.

“A little,” said Mr. Strumpet. “Why? Does that make you sad?”

Jenny shrugged. The truth was, she liked having her dad home all the time, even if it did mean her mom was a bit more upset about things than she usually was.  He told the best stories, and played the best games, whenever he wasn’t locked inside his office. If she had been a little younger, she might have wished that things would always be that way. However, it was her tenth birthday, and as her mom would say she knew better than that.

After a long moment, when he saw he wasn’t going to get an answer out of Jenny, Mr. Strumpet turned back to the computer and continued to type. He was still on the computer when Mrs. Strumpet came back to the room, having dropped Trevor off in his nursery. She glanced at Jenny holding the bag, and then at him.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“We’re going to figure out just what this is,” said Jenny.

“I don’t see the point,” said Mrs. Strumpet. “I’m going to take it back, tomorrow. It was my mistake going to that old place.”

“But I like it!” said Jenny, holding the small leather bag closer. “I want to keep it!”

“Whatever it is, it isn’t worth that much money,” said Mrs. Strumpet. “Now why don’t you just give that back to me…?”

“Hold on,” said Mr. Strumpet. Both Jenny and her mom paused as her father pulled up a picture on the computer screen. The writing in the picture was almost the same as the writing on the box, although the image was murky and Jenny couldn’t quite make out what it said. “Well, it’s definitely Greek,” he said.

“What does it say?” asked Jenny and her mother, at exactly the same time.

“I don’t know,” he replied. “I’m sure that it’s exactly what it looks like �" nothing but an old box, with some dust inside.”

Jenny looked down at the box, and at the dust she was holding in her hand. “I want to keep it,” she said, looking over at her father in support. But Mrs. Strumpet sighed, loudly.

“I’m sorry,” said Mrs. Strumpet. She plucked the leather pouch out of Jenny’s hand and dropped it back into the box. “Jackson? Take this back tomorrow.” Leaning down, she kissed Jenny on the forehead. “And don’t you worry, sweetheart. You can take the money and buy whatever you want.”

“But…”

Mrs. Strumpet shook her head. “That old man was a liar and a cheat. He knew I wasn’t paying attention �" when you go back tomorrow, Jackson, make sure you tell him we won’t be giving him our business anymore.”

And picking up the box, she left the room. Mr. Strumpet leaned back in his chair looking a little more tired than he usually looked, and pushed his glasses down his nose. “Sorry, kiddo,” he said.

There was a faint chuckle, that nobody but Jenny noticed, that echoed through the house. And then everything else was quiet.