Unexpected Up Ahead

Chapter 1

        My father, when he died, left me only one thing in his will. His lawyer, an exceedingly busy man, found fit to only tell me about this at my father's funeral. We were the only two people there, besides the priest. As the latter paced impatiently, Mr. Rutherford approached me with a large manila envelope in his hands.

         Mr. Rutherford gave the appearance of being constantly worried about something. I counted at least three twitches on him-his eye, his knee, and his hands, wringing each other constantly. His hair was balding and greying simultaneously, and even his tiny mustache looked agitated.

       "Ms. Lowenthal?"

       I looked up at him, swiped at a stray tear, and responded, "Yes?"

       "I am-er, was  your father's lawyer." I was so occupied in noticing how his mustache bounced around as he talked that it took me a few seconds to register what he'd said. "He left you one item in his will. The rest of his belongings are to be sold off to repay his...considerable...debt." He held out the manila envelope, which I could see had a small lump at the bottom of it. Handing it to me, Mr. Rutherford backed away, murmuring, "My condolences, my dear. My condolences." Once he felt he'd condoled me enough, he turned and swiftly strode out the large door at the back of the chapel. I was left with my father's coffin and his last gift to me-a small lump at the bottom of an envelope.

.........

        When the service was done, I left without saying anything to the priest, who was probably relieved at that. I found a bench across the street from the church to examine the contents of the envelope. Ripping it open, I held it upside down and shook. Out fell a key ring, which, besides a key, had a small box linked to it. The top had a circle embedded on it. This I pressed. When it fell out, I could see several rolled-up scrolls of paper, each, when unrolled, about the length of a finger. Unrolling them, I found they together formed a letter. 

        Dearest Bianca (it read)

I regret that I have so little to offer you after my death. I was neither a wise nor good man in my lifetime, and I'm afraid you will be left with only one thing. Fortunately, Mr. Rutherford assures me that the sale of the house and other things will cover my debt. (Here the letter stopped, to be continued on the next scroll.) The key you hold in your hand was given to me by my father, who received it from his father before that. I must admit I never used it as it was intended by your great-grandfather, but I hope that you will be able to restore it to its former glory. Of course, you will need to hire a few workers.

       That was the end of the second scroll, and I paused before going on to the third and final one. What on earth was the key to? And how had my father expected me to hire workers when he'd left me with no money? I read on, pursing my lips.

        To be able to jump start this, you will, obviously, need money. Now, Mr. Rutherford won't read this-and don't tell him about it or he'll take it for payment. He hasn't been receiving any because he's under the impression I don't have any money. To find what you will need, go to Lee's Hong Kong Palace on that strip mall on Jefferson Avenue. Tell Amy you want the Fortune Special. Good Luck.

Your Father,

Aaron Lowenthal 

        I crumpled his name into the paper and stood up. There was a bus stop a few yards away, and as the bus rumbled towards it, I threw the keychain into my purse and stepped on. Just as it pulled away, I noticed that there was a murder of crows perched on the bus stop-I counted six. Was it my imagination, I wondered, or were they staring straight at me?

Author's Note:

So this chapter starts off sounding very formal and British and I'm not sure why. I must have been feeling fancy the day I wrote it. Also, the image of Bianca I first had in my head was that of Snow White in Matt Phelan's graphic novel of the same name, which is one of my favorite books ever. Later, she morphed into something more modern.