Nothing for it, I guessed. I had to find that tree and see what it was Dad might've hidden in there. I sighed, brushed the hair away from my face and pushed my sleeves up a bit. This was going to take awhile. The first box was heavy. I looked inside. It was full of some of Mom's old clothes. So was the second and third. Dad must've boxed them up and then forgot to donate them or something. I found myself wanting to take them out, and rub my face on them. I didn't though, because they smelled a bit musty from being out in the garage, and also because I knew if I did that, I'd sit there thinking about Mom and all the good times. I would never find the tree, and I might get lost in the memories and miss getting back to Romney's place in time.
I found the Christmas tree box under a box that was inexplicably filled with partially empty bottles of cleaner, old cleaning rags, and a package of sponges. Shaking with excitement, I pulled out one section of the tree “trunk” and peered inside. Nothing. I turned on the overhead light and aimed the tube towards it as if it were a telescope. Yup. Not a damned thing. There was nothing in the next piece either. The third section definitely had something in it as I could not see light through the other end. I tried feeling along the ends with my finger. Whatever it was, it was not where my fingers could get to it.
I looked around for something skinny enough to poke in without getting stuck. Nada. I thought about it for a moment, and then remembered seeing people unbunging up vacuum cleaner hoses and stuff using a wire coat hangar. I went inside. The hall closet was crammed full of board games, Dad's old bowling ball from back when he was in a league, and coats on wooden hangars. No good. I went to my room. That was a wasted five minutes as well. All the hangars in there were brightly coloured plastic mixed in a few from shops that were that brittle black plastic with wire hooks stuck in, the kind that swivel around. Those wouldn't work either.
I found a single hangar that would do the trick. It had dad's one suit on it, still in plastic from the dry cleaners. He'd last worn it to Mom's funeral. I made a note to mention it, because if he was dead, surely they had a body, and I was pretty sure you buried people in their best clothes, like this suit. My eyes began to sting a little, and I swiped at the moisture leaking from the corners.
Taking care to not crumple the suit, I rehung it on a plastic hangar and placed the plastic back over it the best I could. I had to tear the hole for the hook a bit bigger to do it, but it didn't look too bad. I hoped we didn't have any moths or anything like that. Or was that only for wool sweaters? I shrugged, then turned my attention to my prize. The wire made the usual expected triangle sort of shape, with one end becoming the hook and the other sort of wrapping around its neck. I tried to untwist that bit, but had no luck. I took it back the garage. Maybe if I used a pair of pliers, I'd have better luck.
Dad's toolbox was sat in plain sight, but his pliers weren't in it. I rummaged about the shelves in the garage before getting desperate. It was then I remembered Dad doing some sort of minor repairs in the kitchen a few weeks back. I dashed to the kitchen, and began ransacking the drawers. I finally found it in an old cutlery tray, along with a wrench and a pair of spaghetti tongs. I took the wrench back to the garage with me. I simply could not leave it there. It belonged back in the tool chest, where these pliers were going to go once I'd finished with them.
Having more or less straightened the hangar and put the pliers (and the wrench) away, I was ready to fish out whatever awaited me in that tree. I carefully placed it into one end, and carefully slid it along. I didn't want to damage anything in case it was a microchip or a piece of microfiche or whatever. I carefully wiggled, and inched it along. At last, the item fell free from the other end of the tube. I put the tube down, and bent to pick up my find. It appeared to be a small piece of colored paper with something silver in it. I carefully uncrumpled it. It was a gum wrapper with the inner foil sleeve inside it.
That was it? Just a piece of trash? I started to toss it, but then had a thought. Why would someone cram one of those inside the hollow tube of a Christmas tree? I unfolded the coloured paper again and held it to the light. Nothing. I examined the paper that was the inside of the foil wrapper. Nothing there either. Maybe it was in invisible ink. I took both pieces to the kitchen. I found a little plastic lemon shaped bottle with a little juice still in inside the door. If I remembered right from elementary school science class, lemon juice and heat could reveal secret messsages written in invisible ink. I didn't know if that was true for all types, but hey, I figured dad was not some guy with ties to people with high tech labs or anything, so he'd use ordinary stuff. I mean, he used gum wrappers, right?
I dripped on some of the lemon juice and brought the hair dryer out from the bathroom. I was blowing it on high heat, willing something to appear dspite the paper already going dry when I jumped about ten feet in the air from a hand touching my shoulder and a voice asking, “What are you doing?”
Holy crap, that scared the life out of me. It was just Jason though. I felt I could trust him, so I told him the truth.
“You thought your dad found out something no one wanted him to tell and he wrote it on a gum wrapper and hid it in a Christmas tree?” he asked disbelievingly.
Well, said like that, it did sound stupid. But yeah, that was what I'd thought.
“Babe,” he said, and pulled me towards his chest. I didn't expect that, and was a bit startled, but it felt nice. “You really don't know, do you?” he said softly. He held me tighter.
I craned my neck to look up at him. “Don't know what?”
“About the trees, “ was all he said, releasing me. “We gotta go, “ he said abruptly.
I glanced out the window. Holy shit. When had it gotten so late? I followed him out the door, locking up as we left. Funnily enough, our shadows made strange shapes where the sun bent them along the ground and against the walls of the house. I could've sworn mine looked almost like a fox, if he'd had several tails.
©2013-2014 Lillian McKinnon. All Rights Reserved.
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