didn’t ask him how he knew where my car was or why he left the letter. It didn’t matter. Right now I was just happy to be home. My parents must have been feeling the same way. It was a lot for all of us to process.
My dad rubbed his eyes and smiled. “It’s good to have you back, son.” The word son hung in the air between us. He placed a hand on my shoulder and gave it a squeeze. “Go inside, get cleaned up, and when you’re ready, come downstairs. I think a big breakfast and a talk is in order. I’ve left a few of your father’s things in your room.”
I didn’t know what to say, so I pulled both my parents into another hug and held them for a while. My mom kissed the top of my head just like my dad had done and whispered for me to go inside. Walking slowly away, I tried to wrap my head around what I had just found out. Maybe there would be more answers waiting for me in my room.
I made it to my bedroom before I felt the first tears of the day streaming down my face. Running to the bathroom, I turned on the shower to muffle the sounds of my sobs. I couldn’t quite grip what was going on. They obviously loved me, but they weren’t my parents. Why couldn’t I remember anyone else having been in my life? Whatever happened to my birthparents must have happened when I was very young. Who was this man claiming to be my dad? What right did he have to try and insert himself into my life? I knew who my father was; he was downstairs, making breakfast.
My dad taught me how to ride my first bike; he was the one who laughed when I crashed that bike into a tree. He was the one who got me right back onto the seat for another ride, this time telling me where the brakes were. That was my dad, not some man from a letter that I had never met. Feeling a little bit better, like I finally had some control over what was happening, I got out of the shower and put on some fresh clothes.
That’s when I noticed the chest on my bed. It was an old wooden chest; it looked a bit like an army ammunitions box. It was about four feet long, a foot high, and a foot wide. It had old iron hinges, and the main latch had a keyhole in the center. The key was resting on top of the box covered in dust, like it hadn’t seen the light of day in twenty years. I could have sworn the box wasn’t on my bed when I came upstairs, but I couldn’t be sure. Obviously it had been placed here for me to open it.
Taking a deep breath, I reached for the key. When I picked the key up, I felt a slight tingle in my fingers. It spread up my arm, and then the sensation went away. I put the key into the lock and turned it. I wasn’t sure what I expected to happen, but the key turned in the lock effortlessly. I removed the key and opened the lid to the box.
The top of the box was lined with pictures of a man and a woman I had never seen before. There was also a necklace hanging from a bent nail in the lid. It immediately caught my eye because of the gentle sway of movement created by opening the box. I slid it off the nail to examine the necklace closer. It was a simple leather cord with what looked to have a silver mounting holding a triangle-shaped piece of bone. The bone could be seen from all four sides, and it was a perfect triangle. Each side of the triangle was carved with a single etching of an open eye. Under the eye on the flat bottom, it said, “Novus Ordo Seclorum.” I couldn’t help but feel that my father had left this for me to wear. I slid the necklace over my head and tucked it inside my shirt. The necklace rested against the uncovered skin of my chest, and I could feel a small amount of heat coming from it.
I looked back at the pictures lining the top of the chest. They had to be pictures of my parents. The young couple looked happy and in love. In one of the pictures, they were both wearing what looked like loose-fitting fighting tunics. Each tunic had some kind of crest on it. I wasn’t sure what the crests meant. I had never seen
My dad rubbed his eyes and smiled. “It’s good to have you back, son.” The word son hung in the air between us. He placed a hand on my shoulder and gave it a squeeze. “Go inside, get cleaned up, and when you’re ready, come downstairs. I think a big breakfast and a talk is in order. I’ve left a few of your father’s things in your room.”
I didn’t know what to say, so I pulled both my parents into another hug and held them for a while. My mom kissed the top of my head just like my dad had done and whispered for me to go inside. Walking slowly away, I tried to wrap my head around what I had just found out. Maybe there would be more answers waiting for me in my room.
I made it to my bedroom before I felt the first tears of the day streaming down my face. Running to the bathroom, I turned on the shower to muffle the sounds of my sobs. I couldn’t quite grip what was going on. They obviously loved me, but they weren’t my parents. Why couldn’t I remember anyone else having been in my life? Whatever happened to my birthparents must have happened when I was very young. Who was this man claiming to be my dad? What right did he have to try and insert himself into my life? I knew who my father was; he was downstairs, making breakfast.
My dad taught me how to ride my first bike; he was the one who laughed when I crashed that bike into a tree. He was the one who got me right back onto the seat for another ride, this time telling me where the brakes were. That was my dad, not some man from a letter that I had never met. Feeling a little bit better, like I finally had some control over what was happening, I got out of the shower and put on some fresh clothes.
That’s when I noticed the chest on my bed. It was an old wooden chest; it looked a bit like an army ammunitions box. It was about four feet long, a foot high, and a foot wide. It had old iron hinges, and the main latch had a keyhole in the center. The key was resting on top of the box covered in dust, like it hadn’t seen the light of day in twenty years. I could have sworn the box wasn’t on my bed when I came upstairs, but I couldn’t be sure. Obviously it had been placed here for me to open it.
Taking a deep breath, I reached for the key. When I picked the key up, I felt a slight tingle in my fingers. It spread up my arm, and then the sensation went away. I put the key into the lock and turned it. I wasn’t sure what I expected to happen, but the key turned in the lock effortlessly. I removed the key and opened the lid to the box.
The top of the box was lined with pictures of a man and a woman I had never seen before. There was also a necklace hanging from a bent nail in the lid. It immediately caught my eye because of the gentle sway of movement created by opening the box. I slid it off the nail to examine the necklace closer. It was a simple leather cord with what looked to have a silver mounting holding a triangle-shaped piece of bone. The bone could be seen from all four sides, and it was a perfect triangle. Each side of the triangle was carved with a single etching of an open eye. Under the eye on the flat bottom, it said, “Novus Ordo Seclorum.” I couldn’t help but feel that my father had left this for me to wear. I slid the necklace over my head and tucked it inside my shirt. The necklace rested against the uncovered skin of my chest, and I could feel a small amount of heat coming from it.
I looked back at the pictures lining the top of the chest. They had to be pictures of my parents. The young couple looked happy and in love. In one of the pictures, they were both wearing what looked like loose-fitting fighting tunics. Each tunic had some kind of crest on it. I wasn’t sure what the crests meant. I had never seen
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