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The Jewel of Hope

By Kathy Rae

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CHAPTER ONE
Kaleb loved the month of September because it was almost time for professional baseball playoffs. He raced out the front door, tossed the mailbox key into the air, and caught it with ease. A roar erupted from his lips as he imitated the cries of a packed stadium. He cupped his hand over his mouth and said, “Yes, folks, Kaleb James just made the last out, which clinches the Mariners’ seat in the World Series.”
He took off his Mariners cap and raised it to his cheering fans and then set it backward on his head. “OK, back to reality, James,” Kaleb said out loud to himself as he stuck the key into the lock. “What’s in the mail today?”
It was rare for Kaleb to get anything in the mail, but this time it paid off to take the time to look. Kaleb squeezed the rest of the mail between his knees as he ripped open the letter addressed to him.
The letterhead was embossed in black with gold Gothic script. It read:
Celebration of History
The DSD Chapter of Fort Summit Order
requests your attendance to honor
Kaleb Y. James on November 22, 2020…
As Kaleb continued to read the contents of his letter, the leaves of the myrtle tree behind him curled as a hot breeze raced through the top of its branches. The heat swept downward, causing each leaf touched by the blast to clatter to its early death. Dried foliage dropped at the base of the trunk and then swirled until it formed the shape of a large man. The grass parted as the being raced toward Kaleb’s 150-pound body. When the creature thumped Kaleb’s back, Kaleb’s knees tightened, sending him facedown into the grass with his letter still clasped in his right hand. The leaves dispersed in all directions as they swept around Kaleb and fell to the ground in the perfect outline of a man.
Kaleb released the mail crammed between his knees and turned over to sit up. He scanned his surroundings and saw the pile of leaves but thought nothing of it. He turned to the myrtle tree behind him, and the head of the creature rose up as if to watch. Kaleb heard the rustling of the leaves behind him and stood up. The creature laid back down as Kaleb approached the leaf pile. He paused and spoke with a chuckle as he remembered the joke he had played on a curly-haired girl at school. “OK, Jocey, you can come out now.”
He was new to showing interest in one particular girl at school, so he had asked Jocey to step into his locker to help him find his history report. She was the perfect size for his five-foot five-inch locker. When she stepped in, he shut the door behind her. The school lockers didn’t open from the inside, which prompted a tirade of banging on the tin locker.
Kaleb fumbled to unlock the combination as Jocey shouted from inside the locker. The principal stood beside him as he opened the locker door and Jocey stepped out, embarrassed by the whole event. They both had to stay after school and wash the outsides of the lockers. Kaleb was thrilled to spend the time with Jocey, even if she didn’t say much.
“I’ll get ya back when you least expect it,” Jocey had told him with a slight grin and a sparkle in her eyes as they had finished cleaning the lockers. Living in a house of only men, Kaleb couldn’t imagine what she was planning.
“Jocey, you got me back real good!”
No one responded, so he raced behind the myrtle tree. Maybe she had hidden on the other side of it when he had approached the tree. Kaleb ran around the tree, fully expecting to find Jocey, but no one was there. He shrugged his shoulders and chalked it up to another moment of clumsiness.
Kaleb went back to the mailbox to gather the scattered mail. With the last envelope in hand, he stepped in the cluster of leaves and tilted his head when he observed an organized pattern forming as they whirled. He moved toward his house to step out of the mass, but the brittle foliage adhered to his shoes and then climbed his ankles. Kaleb propelled himself into the air, but the leaves followed him, forcing him back to earth with a thud.
“Ha-yah!” he yelled as he quickly flailed his legs. Nothing worked. They now rose to his knees.
“Oh, no you don’t!” Kaleb placed the mail under his armpit and snatched his cap from his head. The leaves momentarily retreated when Kaleb wildly smacked his leg. He moved his legs in spasmodic gyrations but the leaves’ advancement was relentless.
The door to Kaleb’s house opened, and his father peered out. The leaves dropped around Kaleb’s feet as if someone had turned off a switch. Kaleb thrashed at the mass beneath him.
“Kaleb?” Micah said. “What are you doing?”
Startled that his dad was watching, Kaleb pointed to the ground and said, “Did you see that?”
“Is that some kind of new dance move?” Micah asked.
“No.” Kaleb eyed the leaves. He didn’t even want to try and explain what had just happened. “I mean, yeah—how’d you guess?”
Kaleb scampered to his father’s side and handed him the mail.
“I would have gone for it myself if I had known you would go on a dancing excursion,” Micah teased as he returned to his recliner.
Kaleb looked back at the lifeless leaves and shut the door and then moved next to his dad. “I got this in the mail. What does it mean?”
Micah glanced at it and scowled.
“What’s wrong? You don’t look happy about the invitation.” Kaleb plopped his five-foot ten-inch frame on the couch and stared at his dad.
Micah grunted and continued to read. “I’ll have to do some checking, Kaleb. I don’t know if this is legit.”
“What’s it about?” he asked before he shoved a piece of bubble gum into his mouth.
“You are the seventh descendant of Chief Yunee, who has half-white and half-Wavatee blood. Since you are turning thirteen this year, they wish to honor you in their annual celebration outside of Fountain Gorge, Arizona, at Fort Summit. Do you remember me telling you a few years ago that I am a descendant of Chief Yunee and that I have one quarter Wavatee blood, and that your mother was three quarters Wavatee?”
“Yes, but why is that special enough to honor me in a celebration?” Kaleb asked.
“The Wavatee Nation has many stories of how they survived after escaping the Arizona Cavalry, who were trying to eliminate them. They trekked to Mexico, and many people died. Twenty-one years later, they went back to the Walla Valley Reservation in Arizona.
“Your great-grandfather was Chief Yunee. He married a white woman named Annabelle, who carries the white portion of your bloodline. Her father, whose name was Damon, was in the cavalry. He hated the Wavatee people so much that he went out of his mind with rage when Annabelle married Chief Yunee. The cavalry discharged him without honors. After Annabelle’s mother turned Damon out, he made the Summit Valley caverns his home.” Micah paused to sip his coffee.
“I don’t understand what any of that has to do with me,” Kaleb replied.
“Well,” Micah continued to explain. “Damon became involved in devil worshipping and cursed Annabelle’s children. She had five children, who all mysteriously died on their eighth birthdays. Damon was killed in a cave-in before her sixth child was conceived. She’s the only one who lived a full life.
“There are tales that the spirits of those five children wandered the Valley for years in search of a place to rest. I have read a book that my father owned of stories from people who have had encounters with each child. The book says that after the man-made fountain was built in Fountain Gorge, there were no more sightings, so people suspect that the spirits found their rest somewhere in the valley.”
“Wow.” Kaleb stood up. “Is any of it true?”
“I highly doubt it,” Micah said, stroking his overgrown mustache. “I’ll have to check my schedule to even see if I can take time off that week. It’s your Uncle Derek who wrote the invitation. I’ll give him a call and find out what it all entails.”
“Sweet,” Kaleb grabbed his mitt off the end table. “I’m going to play catch with Max at the park. See ya later, Dad.”
“You guys get home before dinner,” Micah said.
Kaleb slammed the door as he rushed out, but he paused when a chill scurried up his spine. He looked back at their Mediterranean-style house as two shadows fell behind the lupines that lined the front of the home. Kaleb leaned over the flowers and spit out his gum, and then he hurried down the sidewalk.
The two dark apparitions looked down at the wad of gum, which had fallen between them, and sneered. They slithered under the plants and nestled close to the ground. One phantom swept to the left of Kaleb, hiding behind every tree as he followed him. The other specter slunk behind every parked car that Kaleb passed.
Kaleb’s right shoelace came untied and slapped against his left leg, so he stooped down to tie it. The hairs on the back of his neck rose, and the chill returned. He quickly turned to glance behind himself, fully expecting to find one of his friends. He rose to his feet and decided not to tie his shoes. He didn’t see anything, but, after watching all of those horror films, he reasoned that not seeing anything didn’t mean there was nothing there.
Kaleb looked at the trees to his left and wondered why the branches were waving; there was no noticeable breeze. He moved closer to the street and jumped when the maroon Ford Focus parked next to him lurched up and down. He picked up the pace because the oak-lined park was now in sight.
Suddenly, a branch the size of a man’s bicep plunged in front of Kaleb, and without hesitation, he leaped over it, edging closer to the street once more. The black Toyota Tacoma truck in front of him began to shake, which activated its antitheft alarm.
Kaleb could swear that the rhythmic beeping spewed the words “doom, doom, doom.” He slammed his mitt to his chest and squeezed through the parked vehicles, and onto the street. His feet barely touched the pavement as he sprinted the rest of the way to the park.
When Kaleb stopped under the red oak trees, he inhaled deeply and slowly released the air from his lungs. That was enough to return to a feeling of safety. He glanced over his shoulder at the street he’d just traveled and wondered if he had imagined it all.
The sound of Max playing on the outdoor equipment returned Kaleb’s attention to why he had made the trip to the park. He watched his little brother blast out of the twisted slide with a shout of triumph. Max attempted a flip, only to land on his backside. His stocky, shorter stature didn’t lend itself too much success in acrobatic attempts, but that didn’t stop Max’s enthusiasm for trying.
Kaleb lowered himself to tie his shoelace and noticed that the grass in front of him flattened as if someone stood before him. He stiffened when the air grew cold.
“Kaaa-leb,” someone whispered loudly.
Kaleb dropped his shoelace and shot to his feet, backpedaling as he inspected the area. A translucent image of a man appeared in front of him.
“You will not prevail.” The voice sounded hollow. Anger was etched on the man’s face, and the branches of the red oaks began to sway.
“What?” Kaleb muttered under his breath, and the apparition vanished. Kaleb clutched his mitt with his arms and blinked his eyes.
“You will be defeated!” the voice said forcefully. Then a blast of frigid air sent Kaleb’s cap flying.
Max ran up to Kaleb. “Hey, K, you look like you just saw a ghost.”
Kaleb turned to his brother and then looked back to where the image had been. “Did you see that?”
“I saw the trees start waving,” Max said and then added with a vampire’s accent, “I tried to get your attention, but you looked like you were in a trance.”
“Didn’t you see my hat fly off? Where is it?” Kaleb asked, fighting back confusion and fear.
Max retrieved Kaleb’s cap, which was several yards away, and handed it to him. Kaleb placed the hat back on his head and slowly spun around to make sure no one was around.
“Come on,” Kaleb lightly tapped his brother on the shoulder with his mitt and stepped into the grassy area to play catch.
Kaleb missed several of Max’s pitches and then threw the ball way over Max’s head.
“Oh, man,” Max said as he gave chase.
“I’ll concentrate better, Max,” Kaleb said as he caught the ball. They volleyed the ball back and forth without error, giving them both a good workout. Finally, Kaleb tossed the ball with a little heat in it, and Max smiled.
Max rotated his right foot into the grass and wrapped his fingers around the ball as he placed it in his mitt. He leaned forward and furrowed his brows as he glared at his older brother. Kaleb placed his hands on his knees, while rocking side-to-side, and scowled back. Max cocked his arm and whipped the ball forward. Kaleb brought his glove up, just barely opening it before the ball impacted. The sting was something he had never felt before.
“You worm!” Kaleb said as he fell backward on the grass, shaking off the burn. “Where’d that come from?”
Max laughed and raised his hands in victory. That ticked Kaleb off, so he grabbed the ball and hurled it past his brother’s head. Unfazed by Kaleb’s display of anger, Max went to retrieve the ball. By the time he returned with the ball, the branches of the trees were moving again.
Max looked up at the trees and said, “Now what’s going on? The wind’s not even blowing!”
“It’s time to go home, Max,” Kaleb said. Max didn’t hesitate to run to Kaleb’s side, and they both rushed down the street. Kaleb looked back at the park, and the trees slowed their flurry.
“K, there’s a fire on our block! Look at the fire trucks!” Max said as he stopped and pointed down the street.
“That’s our house!” Kaleb shouted.
When they arrived at their home, there were two fire trucks parked in front, one in the driveway and one next to the door. Firemen were storing the fire hoses on their trucks and cordoning off the house.
Kaleb peered through the mass of neighbors and firefighters to find his dad. When he found him, he grabbed Max’s hand, and they rushed toward Micah.
“Whoa, boys!” A fireman stopped them when they reached the sidewalk in front of their house.
“That’s all right, sir,” Micah said. “They’re my sons.”
The fire chief handed Micah a form and said, “It started in the attic, Mr. James. We were able to contain the fire there. Give this to your insurance agent.”
“What happened, Dad?” Max asked, grabbing his dad’s arm.
“An electrical short in the attic,” Micah answered in disgust.
“What are we going to do?” Kaleb asked.
“I called Uncle Derek. He’s coming to pick you up,” Micah answered and then pointed to the approaching sports car. “There he is now.”
Derek stepped out of his black Audi convertible and shook his head. “Man, Mike, I’m sorry to see this happen.”
“Would you mind taking Max and Kaleb to your place, Derek? I’ll get some clothes for all of us and meet you there.” Micah’s voice sounded strained.
“Do we have to go?” Max asked.
“I need to get things organized,” Micah said. “Go with Uncle Derek, and I’ll be there shortly.”
Kaleb lowered his head as he shuffled behind his uncle. Max placed his hands on his hips and stomped his feet as he followed Kaleb to the car. They scowled at their father as they got into the car.
One by one, the fire trucks pulled away and left. Micah looked at the yellow “Do Not Enter” tape encircling his house and stepped over it. He looked up toward the attic and saw how the smoke had blackened the coral color on the stucco around the window. With hesitation, he opened the door, expecting the worst, and then he reluctantly stepped inside. His first breath was filled with the stench of smoke and rotten eggs. He stepped back outside and coughed as he expelled the fumes from his lungs. Micah placed the front of his shirt over his mouth and nose. Then, he reentered his house. He went directly to the entry table to find a flashlight because the electricity had been shut off.
He flashed the light around the living room and followed a dense haze up to the peak of the cathedral ceiling. The chief had told him that they contained the fire to the attic, but he surmised that there would be quite a bit of repair work to do.
Micah walked to the end of the living room and entered the hallway that led to the stairs. At the top of the stairway, a short hallway gave passage to the attic ladder. Micah’s legs felt heavy as he climbed the first two rungs of the ladder, and then his stomach weakened and he dashed for the bathroom two doors down. He rinsed the vomit out of his mouth and dampened a towel to wrap around his face.
Climbing up to the attic seemed easier now, although Micah worried about his wife’s belongings being damaged. If he hadn’t searched for her notes on Chief Yunee after Kaleb had gone to the park, this wouldn’t have happened. Every memory of Kayleigh was stowed in this storage area, and Micah wondered if it was all destroyed. Would Kayleigh’s notes on Chief Yunee still be there?
Micah opened the attic door and was assaulted by the source of the sulfur smell. With his eyes watering, he backed out of the attic to find fresher air, but with no success. He tightened the grip of the towel over his mouth and nose to keep from losing what remained in his stomach.
The boxes that had been neatly stacked in rows were now scattered hither and yon after the firefighters’ efforts to stop the fire. Micah shoved them out of his way as he raced to the only window in the attic and opened it up. He stuck his head out the window and eagerly inhaled the clean air.
Whatever chemicals the firemen used along with the water to put the fire out must have covered every inch of the attic because it took several minutes before the putrid odor exited through the window. The ceiling was blackened mostly in the middle of the attic. Rafters were exposed, and Sheetrock was scattered everywhere.
Earlier, Micah had found an old leather chest that contained months of Kayleigh’s research on Chief Yunee. He had delicately laid Kayleigh’s wedding dress off to the side and viewed other mementos of their marriage as he dug through the chest.
From the look of it, the table lamp he had set next to the chest had fallen over and ignited Kayleigh’s wedding dress and then spread to the chest. Nothing was left of her notes but one corner of a page from Kayleigh’s journal. The only words that were legible were “…danger, beware of the sacrifice, for…”
Micah grabbed the teddy bear that he had won for her at a county fair. He remembered how Kayleigh had tested the teddy with a hug and explained that it had to pass her standards before she would know if Micah needed to win it for her. The teddy bear was soft and cute, so Micah spent the next hour and $55 trying to win the critter for her. He hugged the charred teddy to his chest as he wept. He sat there until the window shed no more daylight, and then he made his way downstairs to gather the items they would need.
***
“What are we going to do, Uncle Derek?” Max followed on his uncle’s heels with Kaleb one step behind him.
“You’ll move in here with me until your house can be fixed,” Derek answered as he took his ball cap off of his thick, sandy hair. Max could easily be mistaken for Derek’s child because both of them were made of solid muscle and of smaller stature, but that was where the similarities stopped. Derek kept to himself most of the time and allowed only Kaleb and Max to see his fun side. Max reminded Derek of his sister, Kayleigh, with his zest for life. Derek could always count on his older sister to bring a smile to his face, especially when he got too serious.
Kaleb and Derek resembled each other in how guarded they were toward people they didn’t know, which prevented them from having the same connection that Derek had with Max.
“How did it happen?” Kaleb asked as his blue eyes probed his uncle’s for answers. Kaleb was almost intimidating, standing just one inch below Derek’s five-foot eleven-inch stance. “That’s where all of Mom’s stuff is stored. Is it all gone? Dad was upset. Will he be OK?”
“One question at a time, Sport,” Derek replied. “I’m not sure how it happened; we’ll find out more when your dad gets here. And I’m sure everything will be fine.”
The doorbell rang, “Ah, saved by the bell,” Derek said as he answered the door.
“Does anyone like pizza?” Micah lifted two boxes from Mr. Pizza.
“Dad!” Kaleb and Max scrambled to Micah. Derek grabbed the pizza and freed Micah’s arms to hold his kids. “What are we going to do? Where are we going to stay? How did the fire start? Are Mom’s things OK?” Max started with one question, and Kaleb followed with another.
“Come here,” Micah said as he led them to the couch and lowered his six-foot three-inch, 250-pound frame. His size could be intimidating to anyone who did not know him, but he had an engaging smile and a sparkle in his blue eyes when he talked with his sons. Max immediately crawled onto his lap while Kaleb snuggled under his right arm. “As you know, the fire started in the attic. I was looking through some files that your mother wrote, and I went to answer the phone when your uncle called. The fire started from the lamp I was using. There’s not much left of your mother’s things.”
“But where will we go?” Max asked again.
“Uncle Derek said we could stay here. Our house will be all right. The attic needs repair, but the smoke damage was minimal, so it won’t be long before we can move back in.”
“Come and get your hot pizza!” Derek announced with his best rendition of an Italian accent.
The evening was filled with antics from Derek, who tried to lighten the mood. Kaleb sat quietly on the couch most of the evening, deep in thought. Max spent time trying to take down his uncle in a wrestling match.
Micah entered the living room from the kitchen after washing the dishes. “It’s time for bed,” he said as he wiped his hands with a kitchen towel. To his surprise, neither boy argued, and they both headed down the hall to the guest room.
“You’re first, Max. Get those pearly whites brushed,” Micah said.
Kaleb sat silently on the bed. Micah pulled up a chair and asked, “What’s bugging you, Champ?”
“Nothing of Mom’s made it through the fire?” he asked in a wounded tone.
“I didn’t spend a lot of time up there,” Micah said, placing his hand on Kaleb’s knee. “Let’s say we investigate some tomorrow.”
“OK. Thanks, Dad,” Kaleb managed a half smile as he went to brush his teeth.
Kaleb and Max crawled into the full-sized bed, and Micah tucked them in.
“Sing us a song, Dad,” Max said. “Kaleb said Mom used to sing to him.”
“Your mom was the singer,” Micah said. “I’ll hum you a song.”
The only tune that would come to mind was the old hymn, “It Is Well.” The boys didn’t complain about his being off pitch and quickly settled in. Micah lingered and kept watch as they fell asleep.
It never ceased to amaze him how totally different Max was from Kaleb. Kaleb was serious and lacked confidence. Any failure he experienced seemed to cling to him like an anchor of hopelessness. A lot of that seemed to stem from the loss of his mother. He didn’t like challenges, yet he was very smart and could figure out solutions to whatever trial he faced. His loyalty to his family was undying.
Kaleb wore his dark brown hair in a “faux hawk” style, a longer version of a Mohawk, and it made him look two years older than he was. He was becoming a very handsome young man whose blue eyes sparkled with the love of the Lord. His smile warmed the hearts of all who knew him.
In comparison, Max was free spirited and sometimes needed to be reminded of his insensitivity to others around him. Max lived life for what it had to offer now, and many times he had to be rescued by Kaleb because he had not considered the consequences of his behavior.
The shine in Max’s brown eyes came from the joy of living life to its fullest. Max’s hairstyle even reflected his carefree nature in the blond curls that danced softly on his head.
Micah felt blessed to have these two boys. He kissed them both on their heads and ventured back to the living room.
Max was fast asleep, but Kaleb lay with his eyes closed, waiting for his dad to leave. He listened for the sound of his uncle and dad talking and then crept down the hallway to the living room, hiding in the shadows to hear what they had to say.
“Are they OK?” Derek asked.
“Yeah, they’ll be fine,” Micah answered.
“Here, drink this, buddy. It will help you wind down,” Derek said, handing Micah a glass of wine.
“I’m not much of a drinker, but I think I’ll take you up on it tonight,” he said as he sat in a recliner. “Say, Derek, did Kayleigh ever mention the research she was doing on the Wavatee Nation?”
“I wasn’t aware that she had done any research,” Derek answered and then raised his glass of wine to his lips.
“I was upstairs in the attic looking for her papers when you called. I had just found her journal and laid it down. The small portion I read before you called talked about Annabelle’s father, Damon, and how he was involved in demon worship and witchcraft. I was trying to find out what Kayleigh had to say about Kaleb being the seventh descendant of Yunee and Annabelle and what it represented. I vaguely remember my parents and grandparents talking about it all. I guess I always thought it was a fable of our people.”
“Kayleigh and I were told the same stories as we grew up,” Derek said.
“Why did you write that letter of invitation?” Micah asked.
“I have a cousin in the Summit Valley who I’ve corresponded with for years,” Derek responded. “I mentioned to him that Kaleb was half white and half Wavatee. That inspired him to do some research, and when he found out that Kaleb was indeed the honored seventh descendant, he kept close track of Kaleb’s approaching thirteenth year.”
“Do you believe that it’s true, or is it just a story?” Micah asked.
“Does it really matter?” Derek said. “Kaleb has such a sensitive heart. I don’t think he’s over his mother’s death even now, and it’s been eight years. He needs something to make him feel special. I don’t know what the celebration will be like, but it has to make a difference in how Kaleb views himself.”
“OK, I’ll see if I can get that week in November off,” Micah said and then drained the last of his wine. “This wine is doing its job. I’m going to bed. Thanks for everything, Derek.”
“Sure,” he answered. “Let me know if there’s any other way I can help.”
Kaleb scampered off to bed before his dad found him. He stared at the ceiling and pondered over why being the seventh half-blood Wavatee and white person was so special. Kaleb turned to his side and punched his pillow to make an indention for his head. It was difficult to shut down his mind from the events of the day, but he finally settled into slumber.
***
It took threats of tickle torture to get Kaleb and Max out of bed in the morning. Once they were all dressed and fed, Micah asked Max if he wanted to go to their house with Kaleb and him. Max was content to stay with his uncle, so Micah gathered Kaleb and hopped in the Hummer. Both sat in the silence of their own thoughts on the trip to their house.
“It looks like a crime scene,” Kaleb said as he looked at all of the yellow tape draped across the entrance.
“Let me warn you—it doesn’t smell the greatest in there, so hold put your shirt over your mouth and nose.”
Micah unlocked the door and took a whiff. “Hey, it’s better today.” He turned on his flashlight to shine their way up the stairs to the attic. Kaleb stepped in and drew a breath of despair as he viewed the charred boxes in disarray.
“There may be things that survived under the piles of Sheetrock,” Micah encouraged.
“Mom left a box of things she made for me in the corner over there,” Kaleb pointed to the farthest corner of the attic.
“OK,” Micah said, moving burnt crates aside. “Let’s make a path to that corner.”
It was noon when they made it to the corner. Micah and Kaleb had soot smeared all over their clothes and faces. Micah’s light brown hair was now just as dark as Kaleb’s. After hauling another heap of ceiling debris and clothing out of the way, they discovered a box, which looked totally unscathed.
“That’s it!” Kaleb shouted. “That’s the box!”
“Hey,” a voice behind them said. “You’re trespassing.”
Micah turned and saw a fireman standing in the attic’s threshold.
“This is my property.” Micah pulled out his wallet for identification.
“I don’t care whose property it is. This house is condemned until after the investigation. You need to leave the premises immediately.”
Kaleb picked up the box and carried it forward as Micah shifted the piles of debris back to where they had found them. When they reached the attic landing, the fireman reappeared. “Son, you can’t remove anything from this attic,” he said.
Kaleb plopped the box down in frustration and bolted down the stairs.
“That’s the only thing left of his mother, who died eight years ago,” Micah explained in exasperation.
“I have my orders and laws to go by, sir,” the fireman said. “If you don’t like it, take it up with the fire commissioner.” The man turned and left.
Micah marched down the stairs with heavy steps.
“Can we go back and get it?” Kaleb asked as he met this dad at the bottom of the stairs.
“I’m afraid not, Champ.” Micah said as he put his arm around Kaleb’s shoulder, “only after the investigation.”
“But, Dad, what happens if the insurance company takes it?” Kaleb quizzed.
“If they do, we’ll get it back,” Micah replied. “Unfortunately, in this life, there are laws we all must follow.”
Kaleb stepped out of Micah’s hold and stomped off with his head down. A plan was already forming in Kaleb’s mind to return during the night and go through the box. They only lived one mile away from his uncle, and it would be easy to go back.
Kaleb was quiet for the rest of the day, keeping his face in a book. Both of the boys seemed to wind down before their regular bedtime and fall fast asleep

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