Original Short Stories

L'autre Homme

"Director, come over here we found something!" I hear a yell from a member of my team. Looking over, I see the archaeologists huddled around something, something that Dr. Bellerose is waving me over to.

"What is it, Bellerose?" I ask while walking over to her and the six other men and women I brought with me to the site. She and Herr Hoefler make a space so I can walk into the circle and inspect this object that they're all so engrossed with.

Expecting an exquisite artifact or two full skeletons, I can't help but be disappointed when all I see is a wooden box. Crouching, I pull rubber gloves on and swipe my finger across the top of the box, tracing it along a deeply carved line going straight across the lid horizontally, another on the right side about five centimeters from the edge vertically. I furrow my eyebrows as I spot the clasp, a simple brass bar and ring that I've never seen on anything other than my wife's necklaces before.

"It was buried about half a meter below the surface, sir," Dr. Bellerose continues, kneeling next to me in front of the hole that her team had just dug. "We believe it could have been an offering to the dead that a family member that was buried with the corpse. We don't know the contents yet though if there are any."

"Well it would probably be a good idea to open it then, wouldn't it?" I raise my eyebrows at her and watch as she nods and then looks down to where my fingers are playing with the clasp. I lower my eyes as well and carefully unlock the box, not wanting to damage the artifact or anything contained inside.

After a minute I lift the lid, my breath held until I reveal the contents.

Paper.

Of all things, paper.

Not just paper granted, but why would anyone bury letters with the dead?

"Are those handwritten?" Bellerose questions from beside me, confusion evident in her tone.

"Looks like it." I say turning to her.

"Well I say we inspect them while the rest of the team keeps digging, what do you say, Director?"

"Good plan," She smiles and stands, dusting off her pants and I take the box into my hands delicately, leaving the lid swung back as I walk to an examination tent. I walk in to find my partner sat at a worktable grabbing the sanitizing spray. Once the table is properly cleaned I set the box on it and look over at her. "Record the date please, Bellerose."

"Right!" Pulling a notebook out of her coat pocket along with a pen, she readies herself for work. "What is it again?"

"April third, 1973," I carefully remove the delicate sheets from the box and start to spread them out across the table as she scribbles down a synopsis of the situation. "Ready?"

"As I will ever be!"

"Okay," My hands shake with anticipation as I sit and lean forward to read the letter that was at the bottom of the stack. "April twenty-ninth, 1889..."

~

Avril vingt-neuf, 1889

Chere Maman,

I met a man today. I, your young poor son met a wealthy man today. A wealthy man who treated me with the kindness of an admirer. An admirer, Maman! Oh how I wish you were there to see us, the way he spoke and melted my heart with his eyes, oh I don't even know how to explain the way his eyes met mine. Well actually, do you remember how Papa always looked at you? Even more loving than that, even more tenderly than that. I know such a thing seems impossible but the world is a crazy place, Maman, a crazy place that I hate to be in without you.

I turned twenty-two last Friday. It was a solemn celebration. All I could think about was you, your beautiful singing voice projecting the melody of la chanson de joyeux anniversaire, the scrumptious strawberry topped cake you made me every year during my childhood, your smile. I didn't know it was possible to miss someone this much before you left us. I never would have thought that I could be reduced to the state I was in just earlier today. Thankfully the man has helped my mood considerably, even if the fix is only temporary.