Keeper: Chapter 2

At this point it looks like I am going to post new chapters on a tuesday, thursday schedule instead of a MWF one.

Chapter 2

It was with a great deal of relief that Jamie dropped everyone off. He handed the keys to Michael and got into his own trusty Toyota with the air of a prisoner making an escape. To his surprise no one had said a word to him on the way back. Each had remained lost in his own thoughts and plans. He had not even been reminded to stop for gas and cigarettes. He was pretty sure this oversight would be remedied the next time he saw Michael. His brother wasn’t one to let anyone forget to give him money for gas.

The kids dispersed into their own worlds and Jamie had the sneaking suspicion there might be a fight over internet usage between his mother and his brother. There was only one computer in the house and he knew his mother wanted to check antiques prices against the items she saw in the front rooms while his brother would be checking on land values. Idly he wondered if either of them would think to leave him a percentage of the final price despite the fact that legally it was all his to begin with.

Jamie drove away with a sigh of relief and rolled down the window, letting the fresh air blow over him. He hoped the smoke smell would dissipate enough by the time he got to Jim’s office so that he wouldn’t entirely reek. It would be more polite to go home and shower before being in an enclosed office space but since Jim had already wasted a large amount of time dealing with Jamie’s family he felt hesitant to impose too much on the remainder of his day. Jamie parked in front of the small office building, pleased to see Jim’s car in the lot. Apparently his diverting to drop off his family had managed to give the lawyer enough time to get to the office before Jamie’s arrival.

The small brick building had its trim painted recently and its flower beds weeded. As Jamie walked from his car to the door of the building he could see small disturbances in the earth where weeds had been pulled. He didn’t see a stack of dying plant matter to accompany it so he assumed the gardeners had taken that away with them when they had left so that the law office and other professional offices housed in the one story building wouldn’t have to deal with them.

Jamie pushed open the door and stepped inside. The room was dominated by an efficient woman sitting at a sleekly polished wooden desk. Jamie immediately felt grubby by comparison. She had on what one would call a lady suit with the jacket buttoned and the skirt just the right length to convey professionalism without looking stodgy. She looked vaguely familiar but Jamie couldn’t place her at first. Her legs were neatly crossed at the ankles and tucked under her. She looked up from her laptop at his approach.

“Good afternoon,” She said with a warm smile. “How may I assist you?”

“Um I am here to see Jim McElroy? I’m Jamie Fulton. It is about my Uncle Albe’s estate. Um Great Uncle,” he corrected himself shoving his hands in his back pockets. Her smile dimmed.

“We were all sorry to hear about the elder Mr. Fulton’s passing. Will you be holding a memorial service?” The polite question took Jamie by surprise. He actually couldn’t imagine such a thing.

“I don’t know,” he said.

“Of course,” she said, her eyes full of sympathy. You must still be in too much shock to think of it. After all, even given Mr. Fulton’s advanced age he was just so full of life it is quite difficult to picture him gone. If you will hold on a second.” She reached for the phone and dialed a number. There were too few of the numbers punched to be connecting to an outside line so he assumed it was an interior system.

“Yes, Mr. Fulton is here to see you. Yes, Jamie Fulton.” Jamie caught the emophasis on his first name and smiled tightly. Jim had never been a big fan of Michael. “Of course.” She hung up the phone and gestured towards the door set to her right in the wall behind her. “Please go on back. He is in the second door on the right.”

“Thank you,” he said and then stopped as he remembered why she looked familiar. “You are Lucy McElroy aren’t you, Tommy’s wife?” He smile widened.

“Why yes, I am. I’m surprised you remembered.”

“I try to remember beautiful women.” Jamie said knowing the line sounded corny. “Give my best to Tommy.”

“I certainly will,” She said as he walked through the door. Jim stuck his head out of the door Jamie was told to go to and smiled.

“I didn’t think it would take you long.”

“Just had to drop everyone off,” Jamie said following Jim back into his office and taking the seat Jim indicated. “Again about that, I really want to apologize again for my family.” Jim waved off the apology.

“We can’t pick our family,” Jim said. Jamie ran a hand through his hair. Somehow he couldn’t picture the efficient looking Lucy behaving as badly as his mother had.

“True, but I shouldn’t have brought them and made you loose two chunks of your day instead of one.”

“Just out of curiosity, why did you bring them?”

“Honestly? I’m not sure. They called when I was on my way out and I was feeling blue about Albe and I figured since they would probably hear soon that he was gone that it would be better coming from me instead of the newspaper’s obituary and somehow that ended up translating into them all coming out.” Jamie ran another hand through his hair. “That is not a mistake I will be making again,” he thought of the water faucet incident. “I don’t think the house would use cold water a second time.” Jamie blinked and realized what he had just said. “Sorry, I’m a little off kilter today.” Jim didn’t look like he was ready for to run for the straight jacket fitting chamber yet.

“My grandfather used to tell stories of that house,” Jim said. “They made it sound like the house was somehow alive. I always thought it was just something to amuse us with when we were kids and never took it seriously until my dad took me on in the firm.”

“And now you believe in talking houses?”

“The house talks?” Jim looked wide eyed at Jamie.

“Metaphorically,” Jamie said feeling rather silly. After all, Albe’s world was one thing. In this world people who thought houses talked were locked up.

“Of course,” Jim said with a smile, getting back to his lawyerly exterior. “Let’s just say that talking houses aside, the family practice has opened up my eyes to accepting the unexpected.” He smiled at Jamie. “Shall we get started then?”

“Of course,” Jamie said, wishing he had not interrupted Jim’s revelations. He kind of wanted to know if any of the law office’s other clients were as odd as Albe had been. Maybe there would be time later. “I also want to thank you for not doing this with an audience and for helping me out with the legal ramifications of property removal speech.” Jim laughed.

“You do realize that most of that was made up?”

“Of course, that’s why I owe you a beer next go round.”

“I’ll hold you to that,” Jim replied as he hauled out an improbably thick folder. “This is the inventory,” he said. Jamie knew his eyes were goggling but couldn’t stop.

“There can’t be that much in that house.”

“Oh yeah, there can,” Jim said. “Albe very carefully noted things down. I believe everything in that house is accounted for. Some of the things are of course still in the storage boxes in some of the back rooms. Things Albe brought back from his trips. Most of those are simply labeled with the box number he assigned to it rather than an individual list. He assured me that there was an itemized list in each of those boxes and that the insurance company would have no interest in them what so ever.” Jim smiled. “I think that was Albe’s way of telling me that while I was trusted, there were still some things only family should know. I’ll leave them for you to figure out.” He placed the thick folder in front of Jamie who shook his head.

“I remember the numbering system,” he said thinking of those long ago days in Albe’s house. “I asked why they were still sealed and he said because it wasn’t time yet to open them. So I don’t think it was personal.”

“Good to know. These are the financials.” Jim handed Jamie a second file. “You will see that there Albe liked to have a diverse base to work from. If you need any help with them let me know. My brother-in-law specializes in that sort of thing and he is accustomed to dealing with the family practice.”

“How is your sister by the way,” Jamie asked absently flipping through the folder and wondering where he could stash it so Michael wouldn’t look for it. He was sure his mother would send Michael on a scouting mission the longer Jamie held out. The only place that came to mind was back at Albe’s.

“Fine,” Jim said. “They are expecting their second child in a few months.”

“Great,” Jamie said absently closing the file. “Hopefully he won’t be late.”

“One would hope not,” Jim said with laughter in his voice.

“Sorry,” Jaime said. “Just a lot to take in. I meant I hope the child arrives safely without any um, well… complications.” He added after searching for the right word.

“I’ll just pass along your congratulations,” Jim told him. “In there you will find some maintenance set ups, gardening, housekeeping that sort of thing,” he added indicating the file. “You are of course free to keep or change it. And finally there is this.” Jim placed a key on top of the paperwork.

“I take it this does not go to the house?”

“It is for a safe deposit box.” Jim handed him a slip of paper with the bank name and box number on it. “The only other thing I was asked to pass to you in my instructions was a bit of advice.

“Oh?”

“Don’t make any rash decisions. Things exist for a reason. Find out why before you change them, it will save aggravation later. Think about what you are doing and don’t rush. There is no hurry.”

“You know you sounded like Albe when you said that right?”

“Did I? That wasn’t intentional. You know I really am going to miss that old man.”

“Me too,” Jamie said. He sighed and noticed one of the lights on Jim’s desk phone was flashing red. He gathered the paperwork. “I can see you have other things needing your attention,” he said gesturing towards the red light with his chin. “I’ll let you get back to it. Thanks again for everything.”

“My pleasure. Or as much pleasure I can take under the circumstances.” Jim not only walked Jamie to the door to his office but down the hall as well. “You take care, and remember call if you need anything.”

“I will,” Jamie said pushing the office door open and stepping back into the outside world and the glare of sunlight. At his car he opened the passenger side door and placed the stack of paperwork in the seat. He let out a deep breath. The paperwork made the whole thing seem damnably real. He looked at the key in his hand and spun it around. The bank was across the street.

Figuring he might as well take care of this too he locked his car back up, tucked his keys into his pocket and started across the parking lot. The parking lot was bounded by a flower bed and Jamie carefully stepped over the newly weeded flowers. They were pansies or petunias he could never decide which but he liked their bright happy faces. One of these days he would have to take the time to look up the difference.

Standing on the sidewalk he looked both ways down the street. At two in the afternoon not much traffic was on Centerville’s streets. Large sections of Centerville’s population worked in Denerton. The emptiness would change in a little while. School was out on break which is why his brother’s brood had been along for the ride. He thought it was fall break but couldn’t remember. He had been out of school too long and without children of his own to remind him of the schedules he lost track. Not for the first time he wondered if he would ever be a parent. Jamie liked kids well enough. As long as one didn’t count the demon spawn his brother was raising. He decided that his kids would be different. He supposed all people told themselves that.

“Probably why the human race hasn’t died off yet,” he said to himself. He hadn’t really decided if kids were in his future because a he had never managed to find anyone he would want to have kids with and he really didn’t want to raise his kids around his immediate family. “Especially without back up.” In all he would like to be very much like the Uncle Albe of his child hood, although he doubted his niece or nephews would be happy to fill his role. Living in the middle of nowhere and doing his own thing would suit him. He would have time to paint.

‘Hell,’ he thought as he crossed the empty street. ‘I could actually move out to Uncle Albe’s place and do just that as long as they have an internet connection. I mean all of my stuff is done on-line.’ The thought stopped him in the middle of the street. He stood there stupidly for a second, wondering if that would even be possible.

‘It would definitely depend on the internet connection.’ He muttered to himself. He jarred himself from his thoughts and continued across the really wide street. For a small town Centerville really had a lot of asphalt. He stepped into the bank’s parking lot and crossed it. There was a row of cars that looked like they belonged to employees. They were all neatly parked at the back leaving the prime parking spaces for the customers. There were a few cars in the lot but most of the transactions seemed to be taking place in the drive though lane. Jamie figured this might mean that there were not that many people in line and he might get lucky. He opened the door to the bank and walked in.

There were a few desks placed in a square like pattern off to the side and then a row of bank tellers. All of the people at the desks looked like they were busily involved in intense matters of trade and Jamie realized he had only been in the bank once to open is own account. He had all his funds wired to his account electronically and he used the ATMs and drive through for the bulk of his transactions. He had only met with one clerk about setting up the account when he was fifteen and got his first job.

Technically that hadn’t been his first job but he had graduated from paper boy to grocery stocker at that point and he had noticed that the box of savings he kept hidden is his closet had mysteriously been lighter one weekend. Since Jamie was rather precise about his accounts, as he was saving up for his own art supplies at the time, he knew he was missing seventy-two dollars. Jamie remembered staring at the box and realizing he didn’t know if it had been his brother or mother that had “borrowed” from him. It was that day that he opened his own account.

His mother’s current husband had been a man named Dennis. Dennis had gone with him first to the post office to rent a PO box and then to the bank where Jamie listed the PO box as the mailing location for all bank statements. Dennis had signed as consenting parent in both places, as Jamie was under eighteen and not asked any questions. Jamie had been grateful. A few months later Dennis had filed for divorce but until his death Jamie had always gotten a check on birthdays and holidays. They were always sent to his post office box.

From where Jamie stood in the lobby there was no place in the bank that looked like it housed any form of safe deposit boxes so he assumed he would have to ask someone. Somehow he had thought that it would be like at the post office where you went in and saw the rows of post office boxes all neatly arranged. With a start Jamie realized how much of his actual commerce he did electronically. He shook his head and decided that the tellers were likely his best bet as no one at the desks had even registered his presence.

He went up to the first stall like area that had a clerk with no person near it. He smiled at the teller. She was younger than he pictured tellers being. Somehow he pictured bank tellers as white haired with little green visors. She was around his age and had her brown hair pulled back into a loose twist that seemed to threaten to drop at any moment spilling her hair down her back. Her face was what he would term pixie like and her eyes were bottle green. He liked her immediately. She smiled crookedly at him.

“How can I help you today?” she asked. His smile faltered and he remembered why he was there. He cleared his throat.

“Well My Great Uncle just passed and he left me a security box. I was just meeting with the lawyers and since they were right across the street I figured I would go ahead and deal with this as well except that I don’t actually see any boxes.” The crooked smile fell from her lips, replaced with a concerned look.

“Oh, I’m sorry for your loss. We keep the safety deposit boxes in back. If you give me a second I’ll go and get someone to open it for you. May I have your name and the name of the primary owner? I mean the person who left you the box,” she clarified when he looked puzzled.

“I am Jamie Fulton. Um I suppose that would be James Andrew Fulton,” he corrected. “And the person who left it to me would be Albrecht Rodrigo Fulton.” She nodded at the names and told him she would be right back. Her eyes followed him as she moved and he watched her walk away. She walked over to one of the desks and passed Jamie’s information on. He looked surprised and walked over to one of the offices set into the wall.

“Wow, someone who ranks an actual door,” he muttered to himself.” The person in the office replied to the man questioning him. The man returned to Jamie’s original teller and said something low enough Jamie could not here. She walked back to Jamie.

“Mr. Edwards will see you now. He is in the office straight ahead.” She told him before turning to walk back to the teller’s booth

“Thank you, um… “ he let his voice trail off as he realized he did not know her name.

“Erin,” she said. Again she favored him with her crooked smile.

“Thank you, Erin.” he finished.

“Thank you Mr. Fulton, and have a nice day.”

“Jamie,” he corrected automatically, but she was already walking away and he doubted she heard him. He walked over to the waiting man while Erin made her way back to her stall, ready and waiting to assist further patrons. Jamie felt that he was definitely loosing something by doing so much on line.

‘I’ll have to change that,’ he thought turning his attention to Mr. Edwards.

“Ah, Mr. Fulton we were saddened to hear of your Great Uncle’s passing,” Mr. Edwards said in round well modulated tones. Jamie thought he sounded like an old fashioned stage performer. “Your lawyers or rather the elder Mr. Fulton’s lawyers informed us of the change in ownership. Now are you planning on closing the account or maintaining it?” The man asked. Jamie thought about the words of advice passed to him. It would cost him nothing to wait, especially in this instance.

“I think I will leave it open for now but I will need to see what is inside and possibly take something with me. You know, depending on what is there.”

“Of course,” Mr. Edwards said looking relieved. “There is a long term lease on the box you realize. It was actually the first box leased when this bank was opened in 1826.”

“Really,” Jamie said. “That long ago?” Mentally he tried to figure out which relative that would have been and realized he would need to look at the large family tree in Albe’s study to figure it out.

“Yes. It passed from generation to generation but has always been maintained. Quite a feat and we are very pleased that you have chosen to maintain the family connection to the First Bank of Centerville.” Mr. Edwards smiled and Jamie for the first time wondered how much money his uncle had kept here. He certainly hadn’t gotten this amount of service with his general savings account.

Albe must have had more than he thought. Inwardly Jamie sighed. At least legally his mother and brother couldn’t ask about the amounts. ‘Especially since neither of them were even listed in my will let alone Albe’s,’ he thought. Of course a lot of it would be the older family money. His mother had always claimed his father’s family had money. It was why she had agreed to marry Rudy, his father. While the bank manger checked all of his official pieces of identification and logged in the changes Jamie spared a moment or two of thought for his father.

Not for the first time he wondered how he had fallen for his mother. Rudy had been a quiet man and in truth Jamie took after him quite a bit. He and Albe had been good friends and that is why there had been the connection in the first place. And Rudy had always known that Jamie was the one likely to succeed him in Albe’s world. Not for the first time Jamie wondered if life would have been different had Rudy lived. Jamie’s memories were quite fuzzy and he mostly remembered the pictures he saw. Rudy had died in a car crash when he was about four.

‘And how long had it taken mom to start dating again?’ He thought uncharitably, his tolerance for the family waning. ‘Not long,’ he remembered, ‘a month, maybe two.’ Although, she had the sense to go Denerton to date rather than stay in Centerville. Of course, that could have been due to the fact that no one here really matched up with her loft standards. Rudy had left substantial funds for the welfare of the family so they were never uncomfortable but it was no where near what his mother had felt she was entitled to. She knew that Albe controlled the family money and felt she was entitled to some sort of survivor’s benefits. This was one of her main sources of dislike for Albe.

“All done,” Mr. Edwards said breaking into his reverie. Jamie shook off the pessimistic mood that seemed to have descended on him. He really wasn’t like this. He never dwelt on the worst traits and bad memories. He chalked it up to the bad behavior of earlier. After all he had avoided seeing them for so long perhaps he was simply not used to it anymore.

“Great,” he said. Maybe it was missing Albe that caused the rising darkness. His one compatriot in the family was gone.

“If you will excuse me, I will be back with your box momentarily.” Jamie sat patiently waiting for the box to be brought to him. He tried to slough off his foul mood. He concentrated on thoughts of the pretty little clerk, Erin. He smiled.

‘She was quite sweet,’ he thought. ‘Not bad to look at and definitely not the type of girl to be attracted to brooding.’ He told himself sternly. He wondered if it would be considered proper to ask someone out when you had just come to transfer money from a deceased relative’s account to yours. He decided it was in bad taste and he would wait a while when Mr. Edwards brought the box back into the office.

“Do you have the key Mr. Fulton?”

“Yes,” Jamie said digging the key out of his pocket and holding it up.

“Very good I will leave you with the box. Please signal me when you are through.” He left, closing the door behind him. Jamie suddenly felt nervous. He had no idea why. He had already dealt with the rudeness of family, a talking house and a confirmation that Albe was in fact dead. Of course the confirmation had come from his house but Jamie considered the house a reliable source. After all, why would it lie? Jamie had to snicker at himself for that. He took a deep breath figuring he couldn’t just stay in the bank manager’s office with the locked box forever. Surely the man would need his office back at some point. Jamie had a brief flash of a television crew reporting that he was holed up in one of the banks offices and refused to come out. The scene played out in his head like a bad episode of COPS.

The thought galvanized him. He inserted the key into the lock and turned even as the show’s theme song played in his head. The top of the metal box lifted up on its hinges and Jamie folded the long square back, trying not to knock Mr. Edward’s pen holder over in the process. Inside was a brown canvas satchel that looked like it was meant to be slung over the shoulder of a world war one era messenger biking between the trenches with news of troop movements.

It appeared to have something in it. On top of the satchel was an envelope with his name written in Albe’s copperplate hand. The sight of the letter made him want to cry as nothing else in this miserable day had. With shaking hands and even shakier breath he picked up the letter and turned it over. He slit the top open with his finger and pulled out the single sheet of folded paper. He unfolded it and read the short note quickly.

“Dear Jamie, If you are reading this than death has finally found me. I am sorry to leave you so unprepared. Somehow there always seemed to be more time. It is my weakness I suppose, always thinking that time would not run out. You will eventually face that same quandary and god willing you will face it better than I. Now I know you have many questions no doubt swimming in your head. This is good. Constantly questioning the world around us instead of merely accepting keeps us alive. Now many of the answers to your more immediate questions can be found within the satchel enclosed. However, I ask a favor of you. Please take this satchel home with you and seek those answers there instead of sitting in the industriously nosy Mr. Edwards office. All of my love I pass to you.

Love Albe.

Jamie refolded the note and let out a shaky sigh. Through the glass in the door Jamie could see Mr. Edwards circling like a shark. He sighed. In this he would definitely listen to Albe. Pretty clerk or not, he had had enough of the bank. He wanted to be somewhere where there could be a stiff drink in his hand. Jamie’s stomach rumbled and he amended his request to a really late lunch followed by a stiff drink. He re- folded the letter tucked it back in its envelope and stuck it into the front pouch of the satchel. The letter caught on something and he shifted around until it stayed. He refused to look at what was in there, certain that once he did he would not be able to stop.

Jamie pulled the satchel out of the box. Slung it on his shoulder and relocked the box. Through the window he signaled Mr. Edwards who came back at a pace that was just shy of a trot. Jamie stifled a nervous laugh as he tucked the key back in his pocket. Mr. Edwards’ gaze dropped to the satchel on Jamie’s shoulder and Jamie could practically see the curiosity radiating off of him in waves.

“Thank you,” Jamie said. “I am finished. I will be back to deal with the other things later if that would be all right with you.”

“Of course,” the manager said. Jamie smiled and stood. As he let himself out of the bank manager’s office he realized that he finally knew who the bank manager reminded him of. He reminded Jamie of a plucked chicken, naked of even its pin feathers and ready to be stuffed and broiled. The thought made him smile and he waved to Erin the cute teller and then turned and left the bank.

The heavy weight of the satchel was oddly comforting as it swung by his side. And Jamie had thoughts of going hunting with Albe in the woods. They would go on treasure hunts with their lunch and treasure maps packed in satchels just like this. It brought back warm memories of past days. Jamie’s curiosity was peeked. He really wanted to know what was in that satchel now. Some how he thought it was important. Jamie had not been left a talking house and lots of land just to get his brother’s goat. There was something behind it. He just knew that this was all apart of something bigger. His mind was swimming with all the unanswered questions he had. Most of which had accumulated through out his life and he had never had the courage to ask Albe.