Beneath the Cornish Skies

Willy J. Sol

Petunia showed us to our room. There were two twin beds perfectly made with white laced sheets and light pink pillows with bows along each side. There was a window in the middle of the wall, between the beds. It was covered with blackout curtains that matched the pillows. Everything in this room seemed to be white or light pink, a color in which I wasn't particularly fond. It was equipped with a small wooden chest that looked like it could be centuries old and a thick, fluffy white rug obviously made from sheepskin. It felt crowded and small by the layers of sheets and blankets on the bed and thick curtains.
"It's a lovely room," Sandra complimented Petunia.
"It's me favourite!" Petunia explained with glee.
We all smiled and she left us alone. We listened for her fading footsteps before any of us said a word.
"Okay, I think she's gone," I whispered in my normal voice.
"Oh my god, Joni, what have you gotten us into?" Sandra looked panicked again.
"Me? It's not my fault we can't find our way through Cornwall!"
"This doesn't feel right. We shouldn't be in here."
"What's the worst that could happen?"
"I'd rather not answer that."
"How are you doing, Libby?" I looked down as she clenched her stomach, "Are you okay? What's wrong?"
"I'm scared! Sandy, I want to go home!" Libby started to cry.
"Sh, sh, sh, it's okay Libby, we'll go home in the morning," I knelt down to comfort her, "For now, we'll sleep here."
They got in one bed together and I got in the other. I could tell they fell asleep, but I just couldn't. I kept thinking about the pictures in the bathroom and the chest at the end of my bed. After some time, I got up quietly to have a look at it. When I got a better look, I took my phone out to shine a dim light on it and I noticed that someone had carved the name, "Petunia" in elegant writing, right above the lock. It was a pretty chest. It had hand carved decorations of flowers, leaves and stems, and other accents. The only colour was in the gold bolts that held its structure. The box was secured shut with a key hole and latch that you pull to loosen and pull over the key lock.
For kicks, I decided to try the skinny metal latch. I curled my fingers securely to pull the latch over the thick lock after pulling the thicker handle out to make it easier. The chest opened with it! I slowly lifted the lid while tugging the bottom half towards me. I leaned the lid against my bed.
Inside there was nothing but a newspaper article cutout. The heading read - "Willy J. Sol in Car Accident - Dies Instantly". I thought that was odd. If he was in fact her 'hubs', then why does it say he died? I had figured he was her husband due to the sign out front. I was reading the article that said nothing of major interest, when I noticed the date - "Tues. 16th of February, 1935." 1935? That's almost 80 years ago! Maybe Willy J. Sol was her father, not her husband. 
The sun was creeping through the side of the blinds so I shut the chest and went back to bed before anyone knew I was awake.