An Unexpected inheritance-Fantasy/Mystery

An Unexpected Inheritance-Fantasy/Mystery

My uncle and I were never close, so when his lawyer called to inform me of his untimely death and told me that I was named in his will, I was shocked.

My mother hated my uncle with a passion. She blamed him for their parents' death in a house fire that claimed both of their lives. My mother told me that when my uncle was younger, he was a wild man. He would smoke, drink, and take drugs.

Two days before her parents’ death, my uncle left the house and didn’t return. He was supposed to be watching over their elderly parents. My grandfather suffered from dementia, and my grandmother was wheelchair bound because of severe arthritis in her joints, and they needed constant care.

My mother’s theory was based on the police report. The police report determined that the fire started early in the morning. My uncle usually cooked for them, but he was not home. My grandfather probably tried to make breakfast for him and my grandmother. My grandmother must have wheeled her way into the kitchen to assist him, and things got out of hand.

The house burnt down completely. All that was found were two burnt bodies in the kitchen, huddled together on top of my grandmother’s wheelchair.

My mother was devastated. After that incident, my uncle went to a rehabilitation facility for drug and alcohol abuse. He cleaned up his act. He was a brilliant man and started his own shipping business with the money he had inherited from his parents after their death.

He became very successful; it seemed like practically overnight. He even married, but he and his wife never had children. And even though he changed his ways, my mother never forgave him.

My mother, on the other hand, squandered her inheritance, gambling her life away. She started drinking heavily after her parents’ death. My mother and I moved to Glen Falls, New York, because the cost of living was cheaper.

On a few occasions, my uncle came to visit my mother. During these visits, they usually ended up in an argument. On one particular occasion, I heard them arguing about their parents' deaths.

           “You were living with them, and it was your responsibility to keep an eye on them,” my mother said.

           “So what? I didn’t come home for a couple of nights. I was a young man,

           and needed a life too.”

           “Such a poor excuse.”

           “At least I was there for them. If anyone was responsible for their death, it’s you!”

           “You’re blaming me for what?

           “You know exactly what I am talking about."

           “Just say what you want to say."

           “I feel so sorry for Lillian, but one day she will find out the truth!”

           “Leave my daughter out of this, or you are going to be sorry!”

By the time my mother had passed away, my uncle had given up. He never contacted me or attended her funeral.

So, that is why I am surprised that he would even think about leaving me something in his will.

I struggle to pay the $ 800.00-a-month rent every month. I eat one meal a day to save money. I work at a local convenience store, making a little more than minimum wage. If this inheritance is substantial, it will help me tremendously.

Several days later, I traveled to New York City for the reading of the will. The lawyer paid for my hotel and fare.

 On the day of the reading, I threw on a black dress and black shoes. I took a peek in the mirror, and it looked like I was going to a wake or a funeral. I never attended a will reading before, so I didn’t know what to expect.

Sweat rolled off the palms of my hands as I wiped them on my dress several times. I didn’t know how much my uncle had left me, but I was willing to accept anything.

When I walked into the lawyer’s office, my uncle’s wife, Martha, was already there. She was pretty, a tall woman with brown hair and brown eyes, which had dark circles under them. We were the only two at the reading. A minute later, the lawyer stepped into the room, and he introduced himself.

I identified myself, and the proceeding began. He read off the will, and my uncle’s entire estate and a substantial amount of money went to his wife. I waited patiently to hear what he had left me.

           The lawyer got up from his seat and walked into another room. When he came back, he handed me a gold pocket watch! I put on a fake smile and thanked him. I was expecting some money, but then again, we were not close.

After my disappointment faded, I walked over to hug his widow and told her how sorry I was. “That watch is valuable, but first you must know the truth,” she whispered in my ear. I pulled away from her and then walked away, as I gathered my thoughts, trying to figure out what she was talking about.

           “The truth about what?” I asked.

           Before I could get the last word out, she disappeared. When I turned around to address the lawyer, he wasn’t there either. “What’s going on here?” I asked. I looked at the watch I held in my hand. Maybe my aunt Martha is right.

A gold pocket watch like this must be worth at least $10,000.00. I stuffed the watch into my bag. I walked out of the lawyer’s office and back towards the hotel where I was staying.

           Before I reached the hotel, I spotted some pawn shops along the way. The first shop I decided to enter; a tall, thin, bleach-blonde young man in his early twenties stood behind the glass counter filled with antiques. He looked like a California surfer rather than a pawn shop owner. Maybe he just worked here part-time, and the shop belonged to someone else. I reached in my bag and handed him the watch.

           “Who gave you this watch?” He asked.

           “I inherited it from my uncle.”

           He bounced the watch from hand to hand. He turned it around to examine it more closely.

           Wrinkles formed in the middle of his forehead.

           “I can’t pawn this for you now!” he yelled and practically threw the watch at me.

           “What?”

           “Get out of here!”

           I stuffed the watch in my overside shoulder bag and fled the store promptly. My heart beat so fast. I couldn’t figure out what made him so angry. Why would he get so worked up about a watch? I reasoned that maybe he was just crazy or something. I decided to go to another shop to see if they would take the watch. I was praying so hard because I really needed the money.

           The woman in the next shop looked about 101 years old. She was wrinkly from head to toe. She was rail thin, but she didn’t need assistance from a cane or a walker. To top everything off, she wore a New York Mets hat and a matching Jersey.

           “What can I do for you?” she spoke in a waspish voice.

           I pulled the watch out of my bag and gave it to her.

           “Ha,” she said after rubbing the watch in her wrinkly hands. “I haven’t seen one of these in a long time.”

           I scrunched my nose.

           “You’ve seen one of these before?”

           “I have.”

           “Can you tell me how much this is worth? The man in the other shop a few doors down threw me out.”

           “Oh, him,” she said, waving her hand. “He's new to the business.”

           “He scared me.”

           “Don’t pay him no mind. Take this watch home, lay it down on top of this cloth. She handed me a silk-white cloth. Set it on top of a dresser, and then wait.”

           “Wait for what?”

           “Just do as I say, and I promise you will know the truth!”

           The truth about what? What in the devil are these people talking about? I just want to know how much money I can get for this watch. I walked down a few more blocks, but didn’t see any more shops open because it was getting late. I decided to go back to the hotel room and get some sleep. Before I took off my clothes, I removed the watch from my purse, and then took out the cloth that the old lady had given me.

           Even though I thought all of this was so strange, I decided to follow her instructions. I was curious to know what truth my uncle’s wife and the old lady were talking about. I was also curious to know why the man in the shop freaked out like that.

           I placed the gold pocket watch on top of the cloth and set it on top of the dresser. I took a quick shower, jumped on the bed, pulled back the covers, and crashed out. What seemed like the middle of the night; it was still dark outside; I could see a beaming light radiating from the watch. I turned on the lamp to see if I could get a better look at what may have been causing the light to shine from the watch.

            I peered around, and to my astonishment realized I wasn’t in the same hotel

room that I went to sleep in. I didn’t know where I was, but the room was set up like a bedroom. There was a white dresser, a gold-plated mirror, and stuffed animals sitting in a rocking chair on the other side of the room. I must be dreaming! I thought. I jumped back into the bed and closed my eyes, but I couldn’t fall asleep. I got up and opened a window.

        I looked outside. My eyes widened. I saw trees and wooded areas surrounding the place that I was now in. I had to get out of here. I opened the door to the room and saw a long hallway.

           As I walked through the hallway, I realized that I was in a house. I could see a stairway and three other doors. I assumed they were bedrooms. I went down the stairs, and there was a kitchen and a dining area, a living room, and what appeared to be a bathroom. On the table, in the dining room area, I spotted a New York Daily Newspaper, dated September 30, 2000. I gasped because that was the date that my grandparents died.

           Out of the blue, a strong odor hit my nose. It smelled like smoke.

Now, I knew exactly where I was. Even though I don’t have any memory of ever being in the house, my mother showed me pictures. This was my grandparents' house. The house they died in!

           I ran to the front door. I had to get out. I turned the knob, but it wouldn’t

budge. I turned around and was facing some large framed windows. Maybe I could break one of those windows to get out of the house, I thought. Through one of the windows, I saw a woman running outside. I got closer to the window to see who this woman was. “Ma!” I screamed.

           It was my mother, but she was young, like in her mid-twenties. I calculated back to the year 2000, which would have made her twenty-six years old at the time.

           “Mommy!” I cried out.

           She didn’t answer me but kept running around outside of the house. What was she running from?

           Two minutes later, I could see the front door crack open. My mother

walked in. At this point, I felt I was the observer because I walked over to her.

I tried to touch her, but there was no contact. She crept upstairs, and so I decided to follow her. She entered one of the bedrooms where my grandmother was lying on her back with the television on, but no sound was coming from it.

           My mother approached her. She picked up a pillow that was sitting on the bed next to my grandmother. My mother gently placed the pillow over my grandmother’s face. All I could see was my grandmother's body twisting back and forth until she suddenly stopped.

           “Mommy, no!” I cried out, but she couldn’t hear me. She walked right past me, and I followed her into another room. My grandfather was sitting on his bed, just staring out into space. My mother approached him. He smiled, like he was glad to see her. She hugged him, and then helped him into bed. She pulled the covers over him, lifted the pillow, and did the same thing she did to my grandmother.

           She managed to get both of her parents downstairs into the kitchen. She ran

back upstairs, brought my grandmother’s wheelchair down to the kitchen, and sat my dead grandmother in it. Then she lifted my grandfather and placed him on top of my grandmother. She opened the stove, turned on the gas, and struck a match. Then she ran out of the house.

           “Oh, my god!” I cried. “Now, I know the truth! My mother murdered her parents!”

I wondered why she would do such a thing! Then I started thinking about how my mother always had money issues. One time I heard my uncle accuse her of only caring about their parents because of an inheritance. I don’t know what my mother’s motivation was for killing her parents, but I believe it was to get her hands on their money.

Without a moment's notice, I found myself back in the hotel room. Several hours after getting over the shock of finding out my mother murdered her parents, I left the hotel room and took the watch back to the old lady. I told her what happened to me, and what I discovered.

"This watch is very special,” the old lady said. “Historical folklore states that Pancho Villa stole the watch from a man he killed in Mexico City.”

           “I knew it wasn’t an ordinary watch.”

           “Folklore further states that because of Pancho Villa’s dishonesty in obtaining

the watch, any other owner must reveal any hidden truth known to them. This truth must be revealed before the watch can be sold to another owner. Since the truth has been revealed, the watch is clean. I can now pass the watch on to someone else.”

           “How much is it worth?”

           “This is an 18-carat pin quarter-hour pinwheel watch.”

           “I guess,” I said.

           “Give me a few minutes. The old lady took the watch and walked to the back of the store. I was on pins and needles. I was hoping she would offer me at least a few thousand dollars.

           “I’ll give you $65,000 for it,” she said as she re-entered the room.

           “What?” I gasped.

           “Were you expecting more?”

           “Alright. $100,000.00, and that’s my final offer.”

The old lady reached into a small gray safe she had placed on the counter. She took out numerous bills and counted out 100-thousand-dollar bills. She passed the money to me. My hands shook; holding that much money in my hand made me nervous.

          I smiled broadly and thanked God that my uncle left me a great inheritance after all.

                                             THE END