The Exceptional Trunk

“Cassie, look at this!“ Evan gasped, pushing the stack of storage bins off to the side, revealing an old trunk tucked away in the rafters.

It was Saturday, and Mom had dropped Evan and me off at Mimi and Papa’s house. Mimi had asked us to go through the old toys, play clothes, and stuff in the attic; things we didn’t want. She wanted help organizing everything for a yard sale, but she didn’t want to sell anything we might want to keep.

“It looks like an old clothing chest,“ I glossed my fingers across the smooth surface of the curved trunk. The protective brass corners offered zero shine, putting the aged wood on full display. The leather covering, designed to protect the top and sides, had long stopped performing its duty and had been retired to dangle from the rivets holding it down.

“Or it’s a pirate’s chest,“ he joked.

“Yeah, right, dude. Like, there’d be a pirate chest up here. You’re such a dork.“ I leaned in close, focusing on the trunk and tracing the outline again with my finger. My guess was that it had old baby blankets or Mimi’s dresses, something boring. “Should we open it?“ I asked, shifting my weight from one side to the other.

“Not yet. I want to move it to where there’s room to open it.“

People called us Irish twins, but we didn’t look anything alike. Evan was about the same height as I was. Though only fourteen, he looked older, with his solid frame and wide shoulders. His hair was a darker, more reddish-brown, compared to my dirty blonde. We both had blue eyes, which was a little weird, though, because Mom and Dad didn’t, and neither did Papa or Mimi. Dad said our blue eyes were “recessive” and that someone in our family tree must have had them.

He nudged the trunk in my direction. “If we open it here, it will hit the roof. Pull on it, help me get it out.“

As he pushed the trunk, I pulled on my side. We managed to get it to the center of the attic in the brighter light. Two large clasps gripped the lid tightly, while a large locking clasp with a keyhole held the middle. I tried to lift the lid, but it didn’t move.

“Locked.” I sighed, bouncing my palm off the top. “That stinks.“ I dropped my hands onto my lap with a slap.

Evan was already fiddling with something on the back. He held up a small yellow envelope with a grin. Pulling the tape off, he poked an opening into the paper pouch and poured the contents into his palm. An old key slid out.

I looked at Evan with wide eyes. I could feel my palms sweating, and though I wanted him to hurry up and try the lock, I was second-guessing if we should be doing this at all. Mimi would be disappointed if she found out we opened up and rummaged through a locked trunk.

Evan turned the key, and our eyes met. We heard the tumblers in the lock shift into place, releasing the mechanism. As he lifted the cover of the trunk, we both peered into it with anticipation.

It was a collection of abandoned belongings that looked undisturbed for centuries. Dusty and aged, they reminded me of movie props, or something from our drama club. As I put my hand into the trunk, goosebumps appeared on my arm, and a tingling sensation shot through my whole body. But the subtle noise that accompanied it caught me off guard. It wasn’t just a ringing in my ear; more of a hum or vibration inside my head. It felt less like emotion and more like energy emanating from the trunk. I could feel my pulse escalate a bit, and my jowls and jaw started to tingle. My gut rolled over, and I felt flushed. The hum subsided as we started moving the items around. The tingling feeling dissipated as well.

The attic air held its weight on us with the harsh, heavy heat of the summer sun shining strongly on the roof above. I wiped the beads of sweat that had formed on my brow and continued to shift the items around within the trunk. The sensations I was experiencing seemed to have subsided.

I found an old leather journal with a tattered leather strap holding it closed. Large, ornate golden letters stood out against the textured brownish-red cover.

ZCF

Evan pushed his arm past mine and dove into the chest. A sparkling burst within me affected my eyesight, and a tingle in my head forced me to squint. Just as I was teetering on pain, the feeling vanished. Evan scooped up the first shiny item that caught his eye. It looked like a watch at first, but when he opened it, we both saw that it was an old compass. It looked brass and had the same three initials engraved on its cover: “ZCF.”

Evan reached in again and pulled out a telescope. When he did, the hum in my head returned sharply. Again, my skin reacted with goosebumps, and I could have sworn a faint flicker of yellowish light slithered sideways across my arm. A new feeling emerged in the hand nearest the spyglass, and it rushed toward the center of my body.

I couldn’t help but inspect it while Evan did the same. The brass on the expander rings was quite worn out, and the entire device was adorned with intricate carvings, along with the same initials. ZCF. As I looked it over, a similar glint of yellow light escaped from one of the lens caps and circled the spyglass before dissipating. Maybe I was dehydrated? I rubbed my arm where the light had danced moments ago just to be certain.

“Ya know, this might actually be a pirate’s chest,“ he chuckled. “You think there is a patch in there… or an old wooden leg?“ He lifted the glass to his eye. The end caps were still on the scope, but he pretended to look through it anyway.

“I doubt it,“ I kept a straight face, not buying into the foolishness. “Why would they have a pirate’s chest in their attic?“

“Maybe Papa was a pirate?“

“Yeah. You’re an idiot…I don’t think so.“

“Maybe DAD is a pirate,“ Evan laughed.

I rolled my eyes and ignored him.

Exploring further into the trunk, I discovered a tattered black sheath etched with small golden designs. A few small red jewels adorned the outside, and a worn-out leather handle was sticking out of it.

“Wow. Now that looks old,“ he held it up to the light for inspection.

I pulled the blade from the sheath. I could see that it had scars and scrapes from years of use. There were also black pitted areas from possible neglect.

“All of this looks quite old,“ I noted. “And they aren’t replicas. I mean, look at it… this was used.“ I felt a tightness in my chest. “I think we should put this all back. Mimi told us to go through our stuff and leave everything else alone. I don’t want to get in trouble.“

“Or,“ Evan protested, “we can take it all outside and look at it better in the daylight. I wanna see how well this spyglass works.“

I let his words linger, and I sat silent. It was a better idea than sitting in the smoldering attic in June and going through old toys for a yard sale. ’We’ll have plenty more time this week to do this cleaning. ’ This stuff looked way more interesting.

“Okay. You grab the spyglass and the compass, I’ll take the rest.“ I conceded, pulling all the items aside.

“We need something to put it all in.“ Evan surveyed the loot from the trunk. “Let’s wrap it in those sheets from the trunk.“

“Good idea.“

Reopening the lid, I pulled out a sheet, gathered everything that looked cool, and placed it all in the middle with care. I pulled the corners up and lifted it off the floor. The metal objects clanged against one another. A blue velvet bag, rattling with the sound of coins, rolled out from the gap and landed on the floor with a melodic thump.

“We need a real bag for it all. This isn’t going to work.“

The spyglass spilled out from the hobo bundle, mocking us as it rolled out across the attic floor.

“Check over there, near Dad’s old athletic stuff. Maybe he has a bag or something?“ I wanted it all safe and contained together, not falling out everywhere.

“Will this work?“ Evan held up a large brown canvas bag with a top-loading compartment. It had a front pocket and a drawstring to hold it closed.

“Yeah, it should.“ He tossed it over to me, and it landed at my feet. Opening the large pouch, I worked the linen-wrapped bundle of supplies into the bag. I hoisted it to my shoulder and looked over at Evan as he adjusted his pants.

“What are you doing?“

The dagger slid out of his pant leg and landed with a thud. I stared at it for a second, then lifted my head, glaring at him.

“What?“ He blinked a few times and grinned. He scooped it up as fast as it had fallen.

“Why did you bring that? “

“I wanna get a better look at it outside… I won’t use it.“

“Whatever. Keep it in your pocket until we’re out there.“

“Okay.” Unsatisfied, he untucked his shirt, letting it flop over his waist to conceal the handle protruding out.

We climbed down the staircase and back into the cool air of the house. I could feel the sweat on the back of my neck, and I shuddered from the temperature change.

Moving toward the living room, we ducked into the kitchen to go out the back. I opened the sliding door and stepped into the sunroom.

“Evan? Are you headed outside?“ Mimi called from the living room. She must have seen us as we made our escape.

“Yup“

“Cassie, are you going too?“

“Yeah, we were going to go out in the backyard for a bit.“

“Well, Papa is out there right now looking at that fallen tree. Please stay out of his way until he says it’s safe.“

“Ok. We will.“

Evan slid the door shut behind us and paused. “Hold on a second. Turn around.“ He opened up the rucksack on my back. I could feel him shoving stuff around, “I’m setting the dagger on top. It’s too uncomfortable.”

We headed out the door.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

“Let’s head over toward the fence,“ Evan called out, moving towards the edge of the property. He raced with anticipation to inspect everything again. “We can look at it all near the trees.“

I trailed behind him, looking around for Papa, and making sure Mimi wasn’t watching us through a window. I wondered what they would say if they saw us with everything we had found. Although the items didn’t look expensive, they were once important to someone. Otherwise, they wouldn’t have locked them all in that trunk, even if the key was attached. I rationalized our invasion of Mimi’s privacy. “Maybe they forgot about the trunk, like everything else in the attic?“ But even if it had been forgotten, it wasn’t appropriate for us to be goofing around with it.

We arrived at Evan’s “spot.“ I took the rucksack off and we sat in the grass in the shade of the maple trees. The grass here always seemed thin and covered with moss. For most of the year, the light filtered through the leaves of the trees, hitting the ground in a scattered pattern. It made for a great place to read or have a picnic. Today, it was the perfect spot for a pair of sneaky sleuths to inspect the stuff we’d plundered. It was such a strange cache of supplies to be tucked away upstairs. It reminded me of the costume items Evan wanted from the Renaissance Faire for his D&D campaigns. However, these things were authentic, not some plastic or cheap metal knockoffs from the web.

I opened the rucksack, pulled out the bundle, and set it on the ground. Evan reached in and pulled out the dagger, stuffing it right back into his pants, this time on his hip under his belt. He reached in again, fumbled around a bit, and pulled out the telescope. Once again, gooseflesh. The hum wasn’t as strong in the open air. Perhaps the birds and cicadas masked it? It was a peculiar sensation, and it felt less and less like a coincidence. Each time the spyglass was out, something unexplainable surged through my system. Part of it was similar to how a static charge on a balloon lifts the hair off your body. But other parts of the experience were deeper, almost an urge or calling. The feeling was within me, not just running across my skin.

Evan twisted the smaller end cap to unscrew it, and I picked up the journal. I could tell it was pretty old. Intricate patterns in what looked like gold leafing or paint adorned the cover’s edges. I placed my fingers on the embossed letters stamped in it and traced them individually. Z. C. F.

Sliding my fingers across the top of the book, I could feel the smoothness of the gold leaf give way to the rough texture of the leather. I unwound the strap and opened it, listening to the crackling of the glue as it took a breath again.

Inside, the parchment pages were semi-brittle and delicate from their age. Just like the other loose papers from the trunk, these pages were covered in black ink splotches. It looked as though someone had used a leaky pen to take notes. There were also a handful of maps illustrated with strange creatures and symbols. Glancing over the different regions, I didn’t recognize any of the land masses or the names of the islands from any of my geography classes. They looked like made-up places, not part of Earth as we knew it.

I looked up at Evan as he continued to fiddle with his prize. He was struggling to get the second end cap off the spyglass. It seemed to be rusted shut. He stood up and used the telescope anyway, looking towards the open field.

“Ya know, it works better with both end caps off,“ I commented, shaking my head. Growing up, we had always teased each other. We were close, and though we were older now and in our teens, he was still my kid brother. I was fifteen, so I knew way more.

I went back to the journal, thumbing through the pages looking for something interesting. One drawing looked like a decorative bottle with an ornate cork in it. Next to the bottle were a few drawings of small creatures with wings that looked like fairies with a few scattered raindrops around them. The word “Sorentha“ was written near the drawings, and underneath it was the word “Ofima“. This word was underlined.

“Ughh,” Evan moaned.

I looked up, and he continued to struggle with the second cap. I chuckled at him.

“Stop it. It’s stuck,“ he cried out.

“You should figure it out then. Wouldn’t it be cooler to see how well it works for real?“ I egged him on.

“Yup. But it’s stuck, Cass.” He thrust the spyglass in my direction, “ You wanna try and risk breaking it, go right ahead.“

I reached for the glass and touched it. A quick static shock zapped me. I recoiled quickly. It was unexpected, but harmless. I took the glass and used my fingernail, trying to shimmy the cap loose, but nothing seemed to happen. I twisted it a bit, and it didn’t budge, so I wrapped my T-shirt around the barrel of the glass and grabbed the cap with my other hand. Using the shirt to help make my grip tighter, I tried again.

It shifted slightly. A blue light fizzled out of the cap.

“Did you see that?”

“See what?” Evan questioned.

I twisted it more and could hear the dirt within the threads of the cover as I unscrewed it. I spun the cap off while the grinding of the grit caught within the grooves rang out like a victory song.

“Cool, you got it?“ he asked, grabbing for the spyglass. I recoiled and kept it to myself.

“Wait your turn. You gave it to me, and I got it loose. I’m first.“

Using my shirt, I cleaned both lenses, lifted the spyglass to my face, and looked out across the field towards a tiny tree in the distance. I placed it against one eye and squinted with the other. Looking out across the field toward the trees, I saw a slight shimmer, or a glint of golden light, around the inside edges of the glass. It reminded me of the haze that appeared on the roadways on a hot day, or the wavy heat lines that came off the grill when Dad was cooking burgers. Even stranger, I couldn’t see the trees. They weren’t there. Neither was the field. Scanning across the horizon, I realized that there was no land at all. I was looking out over a beach and onto the shore of an ocean.

I wrinkled my brow and lowered the spyglass. The distant trees in the field across from us swayed with the breeze. I raised the glass again, and a flash of blue light raced across the lens and dissipated, followed by a golden aura that shimmered near the edge of my view. Once again, I saw a view of an ocean and a sandy beach—no trees. No field.

I exhaled and began to look at the spyglass itself. Perhaps it wasn’t a real spyglass? I made sure it wasn’t a toy with a picture slide in it, like a View-Master.

“What’s wrong, Cassie? Did you see something in the trees?“

“No, not at all. I couldn’t see them.“

“Maybe the lenses are dirty? Was it in focus?“

“No, no, that’s all fine. What I meant was, there are no trees.“

“Huh?“ he replied skeptically. “What do you mean?“

“Look for yourself, Evan. I mean, there’s nothing. No trees and no field. It’s all…I don’t know…different.“

I handed him the spyglass, and he looked through it.

“Whoa. That is weird!“ he exclaimed, continuing to scan the distance. He lowered the glass and lifted it back up a few times like I had, gasping each time. “Look at that shimmer, too. That’s cool.“

“Yeah, I know. It is weird...What do you think? How is it…why is it doing that?“

“I’m not sure.“ All I know is that it’s pretty awesome! It’s like a different world or something. That beach goes forever, and the ocean goes over and past the Dickersons’ house.“

As he observed the ocean, I flipped through the book a bit more. It was just as intriguing. I landed on another page with a drawing of a crown on the left page, and what looked like a dragon or a large dinosaur on the right. Under the crown was a scratched note. Two words stood out, followed by a large question mark: “Garitel’s? Triton’s?“

Skeptical about their authenticity, I closed the journal and put it aside. I flipped through the stack of papers covered in strange writing and drawings. Some of the notes were in cursive, others were in all caps. In the pile, I noticed a handful of hand-drawn maps as well. I returned them all to the backpack on top of the old key ring we’d grabbed and the blue velvet bag. I crossed my arms and stared at Evan.

He scanned to the left and looked out past the neighbor’s house, then worked his way back across Mimi’s backyard. He paused for a moment, lowered the glass, and then looked through it again. His jaw dropped, and his head flinched backward.

“Whoa!“

He lowered the spyglass, then lifted it back up in a hurry. He dropped it again and looked at me with an open-mouthed smile.

“What is it, Evan?“

“Take a look.“ He pointed toward Mimi’s garden and handed me the spyglass.

I got up off the ground and stood next to him. I scanned Mimi and Papa’s backyard with the spyglass. Near the edge of the field by the fence, was the vast open ocean kissing a long stretch of sandy beach. Moving further to the right, I could see where the beach met the tree line in the odd, tropical landscape. There, nestled under a huge grove of palm trees, sat a small, solitary shed, with forgotten coconuts and palm fronds scattered all around. I dropped the spyglass down and saw that I was looking right at Mimi’s gardening shed.

Squinting with my left eye, I raised the spyglass again to my right, concentrating on Mimi’s shed. The glass approached my face, and the view came into focus. I could see the beach hut in the same spot as the shed. The glint of golden light I had been seeing shifted to a bluish hue. I opened my other eye and focused on both objects at once.

The door of the strange, forgotten beach hut was in the same spot as the entrance to Mimi’s garden shed. For some reason, across worlds, the two doors were in the exact same place.