The Lock Box

The call came, as I knew it someday would, that dear Aunt Josie had finally let her old soul get on to the next adventure. I had to laugh when her grandaughter Melissa told me that she'd gone out with her bottle of Scotch on the bedside table and Sinatra playing on the stereo. She'd insisted in those last days that she stay at home, knowing her time was near. She might have been old in body, but that mind stayed sharp as a tack, and her sense of humor and appreciation of life remained strong and solid right to the end. Good on you, Jo; you went out on your own terms just like you always said you would. I hope I can be as determined and with it when my time comes.

The reading of the will was just as entertaining as I'd expected it to be. Jo didn't have much in the sense of the material, but what she did have were books and treasures that the family who loved her valued and cherished as the reflections of her life that they were. I expected nothing less than the wise distribution of all to those who would most appreciate them, and I was not disappointed. The little sentiments and loving remarks and quips that accompanied each gift, brought smiles and laughter and a few tears. Just as Jo knew it would.

I was shocked to discover that her safety deposit box had been left to me. Her cryptic comment, when read by the lawyer, made all in the room turn in my direction with a collective curious expression that I was at a total loss to answer; "and to my dear Helena I bequeath the contents of my safety deposit box. Darling girl, let it be a lesson to you. Remember all I taught you about what to value in life. "

Ok, I thought. Interesting. I was shocked just to discover that Aunt Josie "had" a safety deposit box. This was a woman who didn't value things. I remember her constantly saying it was the people and relationships in her life that were her treasures. Money just bought you false happiness. Being that I was a struggling novelist, trying hard to finish a book and make ends meet on my savings, I said a silent apology to Aunt Jo as I entered the Bank that afternoon for hoping there might be something of at least minute value within the box.

The bank manager took a look at the paperwork the lawyer had given me, and with a nod, led me into the vault. The box was brought out, unlocked, and I was left alone with it in a little side room. Looking up first and smiling - not quite sure why, but feeling like she might be looking down on me - I slowly reached out to open the lid on the box. My smile soon turned into a huge grin, progressing into genuine racous laughter as the contents of the box became apparent to me.

Inside was absolutely nothing.

I had no doubt as to the lesson that Jo had left me, for indeed, there are so many things in life more valuable than "things".

(Prompt was: Your beloved great aunt dies at the ripe old age of 101. At the reading of her will a few weeks later, you are told that she has bequeathed the contents of her safety deposit box to you. You are very touched and quite thrilled, even though you know that she wasn't a wealthy woman - so you are curious as to what she may have left you under lock and key at the bank.

Write a STORY about what happens when you go to the bank and open the box. Describe what you find inside. You may write this as MYSTERY or DRAMA.)