The Keeper

The Scatola

It's been eleven years since my father died from an unknown reason they do not want me or my mother to know. Since then I've always been on a constant search for answers to questions they don't even bother to hear.

That night when those people in black suits came over into our house to tell what happened and then confiscates everything my father worked on was the night I would never forget. My mother told me to stay inside my room. From inside I can hear her begging to them to at least leave something or at least one simple thing to us as remembrance of my father. I tried to peak through the crack of the door and I saw them giving my father's special pen to my mother.

Eleven years later, I never saw those men again, and ever since, me and my mother had moved on and decided to continue with our lives. Tomorrow is my eighteenth birthday, and I'll be celebrating it with my mother, and a few friends in a simple dinner. I know the debut could be considered as the second most special event in a woman's life next to walking to the altar and giving vows.

"Esperanza! Esperanza!" that's my mother calling,

"You have a class today right? Why don't you come down now and eat your breakfast."

"I'm coming!"

It's a cold wet morning as the storm comes from the horizon. The wind is getting stronger outside and those strange noises of things banging at each other outside just plants a small fear inside.

As I walk down the stairs I saw my mother looking out from the window, holding her hot coffee. She seems to remember that rainy night years ago, but I just can't do anything but to talk her out of the memory. We didn't even had a chance to see the body of my father, we don't know if he was properly buried, or was he at peace now. All that the men said to us is they will take care of his remains and that we don't have to worry about anything. My mother back then warned them that she will file an appeal to the court for the legal right for the remains of my father, but the men threatened us that if we continue to resist, we may end up just like my father. They told us that if we don't let go of my father's works to them, the people who are behind my father's death will also go after us. My mother agreed, for me to have a future, from then on we try not to talk about that and just try to forget something that we know cannot be forgotten in any way.

I approached her slowly and said, "We cannot calm the storm, but we can calm ourselves."

"You're right, Esperanza. Don't mind about it, I just can't resist having fear."

"But there's nothing to fear mom."

"I fear they will go after you"

"But they are gone."

"For now, I fear they'll come back for you."

"Why me?"

"Because from the start, there is something special about your father, and his family, he won't tell me, but he may one day tell it to you, but he did not."

"Special?"

"Nothing let's just eat our breakfast so you can go attend your class."

While on the table, I can see through my mother's eyes that she had still haven't let go completely of the past.

Before I leave, my mother called me...

"Esperanza, Take care."

"I will mom"

A few minutes of bus ride from home is the University of Cambridge where I'm taking Archaeology.

It's the usual class filled with diverse personalities. I put my trust to my only two friends, Olivia and Jared, for as my mother fears the threat of my father's past.

And here comes Professor Klein, on his wheelchair, he broke his legs after he fell from a cliff when he was on his way to an excavation site on top of a mountain fifteen years ago, at least that's what he said.

"Good day class, today I'll be discussing to you about an ancient artefact that was once considered as a myth. It's the Scatola"

He turned on the projector and it shows a small square box

"So it's a box." one student said,

Everyone tried to resist their laughs, and I was just "ok?"

"Yes it's a small box, but what's inside it is something more."

"-If you put it under the thermal imaging camera, you can see that it has a high heat signature from the inside, yet people could still hold it and feel nothing. That heat signature is as hot as the magma beneath a volcano yet it's a mystery why people feel no heat or no harm when holding it with bear hands. They tried to scan the box and they find it empty. Because of this, scientists are wary whether to break the box to find what's really going on inside. They fear it may explode or sort of like that. It's a mystery that we still cannot explain.

"Where did they found it? Who is it from? Who made it?" I asked

"Well, I cannot answer those questions yet, because the authorities won't allow me to reveal all of the information up until they clear all things out. I presented this to you just to keep you updated in the latest findings in the field of archaeology" He replied.

Mr. Klein went on to the next topic, but my interest about the Scatola did not pass through my mind unlike other topics I had encountered in class.

After class, it seems I need to talk personaly with Mr. Klein to find out more about this mysterious box that my mind cannot just let go of. I don't know what's with the Scatola that turned my curiosity on, well I may not be the only one, and this might just be normal, but it seems it's not just my mind that is eager to find out more about it, my heart also does.