Mr.Eckhart's Box

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Literary Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic
One man while making his evening rounds stumbles upon a box upon many which contains a note that explains the contents and provides a story that drives the man to tears.

Submitted: July 29, 2009

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Submitted: July 29, 2009

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My name is David Banks. I work at a place called Building 207. When some people die, they leave a box behind full of things that look useless on the surfaces but have meaning. We keep the boxes here. it's so the dead can leave something with us. I'm the security guard and I had the night shift.

The building was dark, except for some light coming in from lightposts ouside through windows that look like they were made for a prison. As I walked past the main room where we kept the boxes, I found a -half-opened box with a note. I assumed the family had left the box out, when I went to put it back in the main room I found myself reading the note. I guess it was more than a note. It was folded up about eight times. It was written on yellow notebook paper in very small writing. It was a Mr. Eckhart's box. No first name just Eckhart. The note read like this.

This note is for anyone who wants to read it. I have four things that I want to leave behind. The first is a pair of headphones. One day I was reading my newspaper on my brown leather chair. My eighteen-year-old daughter was on the sofa to my left. She was in a relaxed, lazy position with an iPod in her hand and these headphones in her ear. I could barely hear the headphones, but it still drove me mad. It was as if little annoying mice were scratching around. The fact that it had been a hard day didn't help. I suddenly lashed out. I threw a newspaper to the ground and tore the headphones from her ears. The iPod went across the floor and then the cursing back and forth began. She ran up the stairs in disgust. I felt my heart sink, but I dare not show it. The next day I turned on the television in the same room to see a car accident on the screen. It was my daughter's car. I couldn't cry, I couldn't speak. I won't say anything else, but I never let go of them.

There is a key in there as well. This key was the key to my first car. It was sleek and beautiful. I felt like a king. It was bright red with leather interior and a steering wheel crafted by angels. I almost broke into tears when I saw it. I, quickly, the next day asked a girl out. I honestly didn't care who the girl was, I just wanted someone to drive somewhere. It was more of a date with my car, than a date with the girl. Unfortunately, two years later after many rides through the gleaming country and modern cities, something horribel happened. I was driving to the gas station when my car was feeling extra fast so I revved it up. I could almost hear the car saying, "No, please stop!" but I kept going. All I saw was open road until I felt a tremendous thud and everything went black. I found out later in the hospital that my car was broadsided and totaled, but I made it, the car didn't. The key made it, too and I still kept it.

There is a wig in the box. In college, i was the class clown. So when we were having a huge party in our dorm. I did something crazy. I found this wig in the trashcan in the school. So I did what any college moron would do. I wore it to the party and other than a pair of underwear that's all I wore. I had the time of my life, so I keep it to remind myself of good times.

The last item is a spool of yarn. This is in commemoration of my wife. I've been without her for five years. She loved to sew, that's the only reason I have this. Nothing was more special in my life than her. So I leave this on the Earth to remember you. The best part of me dying is to be reunited with you.

After I finished reading, I realized I had gone off watch for two hours. There wear tears in my eyes and sweat in my palms. I will never forget Mr. Eckhart's Box.


copyright 2009 Zachary A Oser


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