Mystery Box

Joseph Jenkins had promised his mother that he would never gamble again. What else could he say when his mother was crying at his feet? But a promise to one’s mother will not erase the itch that only a game of chance can scratch. It was on a day where Joseph’s fingers were quivering for a slot machine when he saw an ad.

USPS Mail Mystery Box!

Someone else’s unclaimed mail could be your treasure.

For the low price of $79.99 $59.99 get your own box.

What will you uncover?

Joseph clicked on the ad without a second thought. He tried to convince himself that it didn’t count as gambling if he got an actual product. The anticipation of the potential contents of this box fueled Joseph through the endless yammering of his boss at his dead end retail job. He would imagine opening the box to find a million dollars in cash, or a dozen designer handbags. Perhaps he could buy another box after selling the contents, and then repeat the whole process.

Joseph was drooling when he came home from work to find the huge box sitting in front of his apartment door. 

He had never ripped the tape off of a package so quickly, only for his excitement to evaporate even faster. It seemed like the box was just some random person’s moving box. They must have sent a bunch of their belongings ahead of them and never remembered to pick them up. There were a lot of clothes. There was everything from sundresses to boxer shorts, so Joseph couldn’t get a read on who the person who sent the box was. There were also tons of towels that were wrapped around random tchotchkes. There were several Christmas ornaments, a bunch of tiny porcelain animals, and, most confusing of all, a snow globe from Miami. Joseph had almost given up hope that anything in the package would be worth anything, when he found a small box.

The box itself was not really of note. It was very old and practically falling apart. But it was tied up in a very elaborate knotted rope. 

It had to contain something good. There was no other reason to keep such a ratty old box. Joseph couldn’t cut the ropes off fast enough. He was drooling thinking about all the jewels that were undoubtedly stashed inside that box.

Instead he found a book, placed face down. An old dusty book that was in just as poor shape as the box it had been sitting in. Joseph tried to keep his hopes up. Perhaps it was a valuable first edition. He picked it up and turned it over. 

Οι περιπέτειες και οι δοκιμασίες της Μαριάννα Οικονόμου

The fuck is this? Joseph thought. He couldn’t read that title. He didn’t even know where to start. He flipped open the book in hopes that maybe the contents of the book would be in English. He flipped through every page, but couldn’t read a single word. He swore as he tossed the book onto the pile of crap he had unearthed it from. He spent the evening drinking and formulating a plan to squeeze as much money as he could out of the garbage he’d spent sixty dollars on. He crawled into bed after creating accounts on various reselling sites, hoping he’d wake up with better luck.

A woman's whisper startled Joseph awake.

“Who’s there?” Joseph called out in a daze.

The voice called out again, in what sounded like gibberish.

“Hello?” Joseph called tentatively.

He got out of bed and creeped through his apartment, straining his ears for the source of the voice. As he approached the tiny table that he would occasionally eat at, but was currently covered in the contents of his mystery box, he heard the women cry again.

“Apple lay fair row say may.”

“What the hell…” Joseph muttered to himself. And then he heard the crying. A soft muffled whimper that rang every alarm bell in his head. 

He quickly dialed 911.

“911, what’s your emergency?” the drawl of an overworked woman spoke over the speakerphone.

“There’s a woman crying somewhere in my apartment building. I think she’s calling for help, but she’s not speaking English,” the words tumbled out of Joseph almost too quickly.

The 911 operator was used to listening to much less articulate people so she just casually went through her script.

“Where are you located?”

“Are you safe?”

“Can you provide any other details?”

The woman cried out again, “Para ca low, voy e thi say may!”

“Did you hear that?” Joseph whispered to the phone, “She just called out again.”

“Where is the voice coming from?” The operator asked lazily.

Joseph looked around again, his eyes straining in the dark because he didn’t want to turn on the light and alert anyone that he was awake.

“I think from the vent,” he decided, that was the only answer.

“Ok. Officers are on their way. Since you are safe I’m going to hang up. Call back if you need anything.” A click indicated Joseph was alone before he got a chance to respond.

Joseph started pacing while listening to the persistent crying and occasional unintelligible pleas. He would peek out his window to see if there was any sign of a police car. He started fiddling with everything he had laid out on the table. He folded all the clothes and towels. He shook the snow globe any time the snow settled at the bottom. He flipped through the book like he was reading, even though he couldn’t understand the words even if he had turned on the lights. Suddenly, there was shouting coming from outside the apartment. Joseph ran to the window but couldn’t see anything so he ran out of his building to see what was happening. His neighbor Bill, who somehow managed to wear a white tank-top and boxers at all hours of the day was being shoved into a police car. There was a tiny Asian woman, with long black hair and two black eyes that were swollen almost shut, wrapped in a blanket talking to a female officer.

“Head back inside, buddy,” one of the cops called out once Bill was secured in the car.

“I was the one who called the police. Is she alright?”

The cop softened immediately. “She’ll be alright eventually. I’m sure she’s glad you called.”

“Can I talk to her?”

“Best you don’t. Just know you did the right thing. Someone will probably reach out to you for questioning soon. You should head back inside.”

Joseph nodded and walked back to his apartment in a daze. He’d really saved that woman. He was a hero! Who needs to hit it good at the slots when you’ve saved a woman’s life? His neighbors had noticed the hubbub and started filing into the hallways. Joseph excitedly told everyone what had happened and the role he played in it. By the time he zombie-walked back through his front door he was exhausted. He collapsed onto his bed, still hearing the echoes of the woman’s sobs. 

They were still there in the morning. Joseph was early to work for once because he was on edge from the memories that seemed to be haunting him in his apartment. He was happy when the police called him in for questioning after work. Maybe talking to the cops would quiet the wails.

“Thank you for coming in to speak with us,” the most cop-looking cop Joseph had ever seen greeted him. 

After exchanging vague pleasantries they got down to business.

“We’ve listened to the 911 call, but could you just quickly give us a run down of what happened?"

“Yeah, sure, no problem. I was sleeping, ya know? It was late. Then I woke up because I heard a woman whispering. I live alone, ya know, so I was real confused. When I was looking for the source of the noise I started hearing her crying, so I got concerned. That’s when I called.”

“Did you hear what she was saying?”

“I heard words but it didn’t sound like English. ‘Apple lay low’ or something like that.”

“Interesting. Are you familiar with Tagalog?”

“Is that a country?”

“No, it's a language in the Philippines. Where the vic is from. It makes sense that you wouldn’t understand it then.”

“She wrote you a note,” the second cop, who looked significantly less like a cop, pulled a note out of his pocket.

Thank you for saving me.

-Lani Calingasan

Pride swelled in Joseph's chest yet again. That’s right. I’m a hero, Joseph reminded himself. The echoes of tears in his apartment were eroding his confidence.

“We won’t need anything more from you. This is all pretty cut and dry,” the cop-cop gathered his papers, and showed Joseph out.

Joseph strode confidently through his front door. 

“Asa may nah voo go ex oh!”

Joseph’s head smashed into his stove as he fell over. The head injury didn’t do anything to quiet the voice that was now whispering incessantly in his ear. Joseph ran out of his apartment. He stayed at the bar until it closed. He stood with his hand on the doorknob for so long that his neighbor who walked the hall to put her newborn to sleep made two rounds before he got the nerve to enter.

The voice cried to him all night, words that he couldn’t understand. He tried watching TV to drown it out, but that didn’t help. He tried doing a bunch of push-ups to exhaust himself, but no matter how tired he was, the wails got louder and louder. As a last resort he opened the book that he couldn’t read, but it was the only book he owned. 

Finally, there was silence. Joseph slowly flipped through the book as his eyelids grew heavy until he passed out on the couch, book open in his lap.

Too soon, his alarm rang to get to work. For the first time in his life, Joseph was excited to go to work. The crying didn’t follow him to work. At least it hadn’t the day before. 

Now the voice was constantly whispering in his ears

Joseph did his best to ignore it, but every so often the voice would switch from whispering to yelling and he would jump and look around, even though he knew everything was in his head.

“Whatssup with you?” his coworker, Destini, asked after seeing him spook in the breakroom.

“Remember how I saved that woman the other night?”

Destini rolled her eyes, “Of course. You wouldn’t shut up about it.”

“Well, I think it bothered me more than I let on. I keep hearing her voice calling out for help.”

“Oh. You should go to the loony bin.”

“I'm being serious, Destini.”

“So am I. My cousin’s boyfriend's aunt went crazy and got sent to the nut house. She told him she wished she’d signed herself in because the people who did got to leave whenever they wanted.”

“I’m not crazy.”

“You sound crazy to me,” Destini said as she fished a pack of cigarettes out of her purse, “Besides, I don’t think they’re allowed to fire you for medical stuff. Just think about it.”

Joseph did think about it. Especially since the voice got louder as soon as he entered his apartment. Joseph went right back to pretending to read his book. Maybe he’d be fine. As long as he had the book, he could have silence. But he couldn’t read at work. 

After some Googling and making arrangements with work, Joseph went and checked himself in Northwest Inpatient Psychiatric Clinic, with just some clothes, his phone, and his book.

Everyone at the facility seemed tired. The patients, the nurses, even the janitors looked like they needed to sleep for a month. Joseph fit right in. If he hadn’t brought his book with him, he wouldn’t have gotten any sleep. And he still had a hard time because there was a particular set of patients that started screaming as soon as everyone retreated to their rooms for bed. 

Joseph was there for a full day before he got to speak to a doctor. 

“Hello. I’m Dr. Makri. So why have you come to us, Joseph?” The psychiatrist looked like she hadn’t seen a bed in the last decade, but she still smiled kindly at him.

“I hear a woman crying and talking to me constantly.”

“What does she say?”

“I don’t know. She doesn’t speak English.” 

That perked her ears up.

“Oh? What language does she speak?”

“I don’t remember what it's called, but the cops said it was from the Philippines. I… heard the woman speak and they saved her. Now she won’t shut up.”

The doctor nodded in understanding. “You are probably experiencing some post-traumatic stress induced hallucinations. I’ll prescribe some medicine and I’ll see how you’re feeling in a couple days.”

Joseph was swiftly ushered out of the office and another patient hurried in. He sighed and trudged back to his room so he could read his book and get some peace. The voice had been screaming at him during the whole meeting.

The medicine didn’t do a damn thing. It just made Joseph even more tired and gave him a horrible case of constipation. 

“How are we doing?” Dr. Makri asked after a couple days.

“I still hear her.”

The doctor furrowed her brow. “I’m sorry to hear that. Still can’t understand what’s being said?”

“Yeah now it’s something like ‘a fishy say in ma bow’.”

The doctor looked up at him in surprise. “The woman was Greek?"

“No,” Joseph said in confusion, “the cops said she was from the Philippines." He was a bit annoyed that the doctor didn’t remember something they had talked about just a couple days prior.

“That sounded Greek. Have you been exposed to much Greek?”

“Um… I’ve eaten a gyro before.”

The doctor shook her head. “This is a bit concerning. That sounds so much like Greek, my family is Greek, so I recognize it. But it is not possible for someone to have hallucinations of a language they have no exposure to.”

“What does that mean?” Joseph was panicking and the voice was getting louder. He covered his ears.

“Head back to your room and try to relax. I’ll do some more research.”

Joseph ran back to his room to open the book. He flipped through the pages, enjoying the silence when, suddenly, the voice came back.

“Alay say thay si ma zee moo.”

“What do you want?” Joseph cried.

“Thay low nah alax zoo may thay sis.”

“I’ll do anything,” Joseph cried, “just leave me alone!”

The voice stopped. And Joseph closed the book.

“I hear you’re ready to be discharged?” Dr. Makri asked suspiciously.

“Yes. After a lot of thinking, I’ve come to terms with what was tormenting me. The voices vanished after that.”

“No more Greek?”

Joseph shook his head happily. “Turns out the police were mistaken. The woman I saved was Greek. Her name was Marianna Oikonomou.”

“Ah, yes. I’m not surprised the police made a mistake,” the doctor mused, “I’ll sign your discharge papers.”

“Sas efcharistó.”

The doctor paused. “What did you just say?”

“I said thank you.”

“No you didn’t.”

Joseph tilted his head in confusion, and the doctor shook her head. Perhaps she really just needed some rest.

Joseph was rapidly discharged from the hospital, they needed his bed desperately. He was back at his apartment three days later. It was a mess. The days of insomnia had led to him ransacking his own apartment. Now that he was calm again he started tidying. He folded all his clothes and got everything ready to take to the laundromat. He vacuumed and Swiffer-ed the floor. He reorganized all the games on his bookshelf. There was now enough room for him to put away the one book he owned.

Joseph slid The Trials and Tribulations of Joseph Jenkins onto the shelf and smiled.