Riddle me this, Riddle me Kat! *Watty Awards 2012 Completed*

Chapter six

--Day after Murder—

“Katrina?” I looked up to see the officer who had come to see me in the hospital. He said that they didn’t find the men but they were out looking for them everywhere.

“Sir?” I said with a scratchy voice. My house had burned to the ground and they ambulance saved me before I died from suffocation, but I still had a pretty bad head wound.

“Katrina, the hospital says it’s okay for you to leave if you have a place to go. Do you know where any of your family would be?” He asked concerned. I knew that they wouldn’t find any family other than daddy’s best friend. He was the only one who knew about me. But they wouldn’t let me call him.

“No. Can I go see my house? I want to get my box.” I said getting off of the hospital bed.

“Dear, we’ve checked your house for a box, there was nothing that survived the fire.” He tried to reason with me for the fifth time that day.

“I want to go to my house.” I said once more. The cop sighed and finally nodded his head.

He pulled up to where my enormous house used to stand. You could still see some of the brick wall and metal staircase in the front; but everything else was destroyed. Black ash and charred bits of wood lay everywhere. I walked through the still standing stone archway that was our foyer. The beautiful marble floor was destroyed and I could still see bloodstains where my parents had been and where I too had been knocked down. I walked where one of our walls had been and into the room where my mother’s gorgeous Steinway Grand Piano had been. The once beautiful glossy black body was charred and the keys were all burned or melted. I walked more towards the center of my house, where our staircase was. There, smack dab in the middle of the floor, was the box I had come to find. It too had been burned pretty badly but the brass plate that read. ‘Fila mea Katrina.’ My daughter Katrina. It was something my daddy had said was important for me to know and have.

“What the hell? I thought you said you searched this place?” the cop said to someone that had come with us. I tuned them out and knelt down to open my box. I lifted the lid and found papers, money, little trinkets, but most importantly I found his knife.

‘Daddy, why do you have that knife? It looks funny.” I laughed one day when I saw him polishing the blade. He laughed at me.

 

“Because dear, it’s special.” He said as he put it in a box and lifted me onto his lap. “Do you see the Clover?”

 

“Of course! They’re my favorites on cards! Puppy dog feet!” I exclaimed happily. He laughed and patted me on the head.

 

“Yes. Puppy dog feet. And the question marks inside? Do you know what they’re for?”

 

I looked and saw green etched question marks in each clover.

 

“No, why?”

 

“Because, life is full of luck and questions.” I stroked the handle and squealed at what I noticed next

 

“There’s three clovers on each side!!”

 

“Yes, three’s our lucky number huh baby girl? You, me, and your momma; that’s three.”

 

“And my favorite card! I can win any game with it.” I said proudly as he ruffled my hair.

 

“Yes dear, now lets go eat before your momma yells for us.”

 

I held the untouched knife. The fire had touched nothing on this inside of this box. I laid it back in carefully and grabbed a piece of paper with a phone number written down on it. In the box was a tiny flip phone. I dialed the number and called.

“Yes? This is Bruce Wayne?” I heard a deep voice say.

“Hello.” I said plainly.

“Who is this?” he asked aggravated.

“My name’s Katrina. My daddy left me your number in a box. Are you my godfather?” I asked in a somewhat chirpy voice. The line was silent for a minute.

“Are you okay?”

“Yes.”

“Where is your daddy?” he asked a little strained.

“He’s… he died.” I said sadly. My daddy was gone.

“Where are you?” I heard him tell someone to start driving to an airport.

“At my house. It burned, but I’m here with a police man.” I said.

“Hey! Who are you talking to?!” the cop said as he took the phone from my hand. His face got dark right before he got scared.

“Yes sir, she’ll be right there.” He said timidly. He shut the phone and gave it back to me. I put it and the paper in the box and we headed to the airport where I met my godfather.