SECRETS IN A BOX

Victor, like every 9-year-old boy, was curious. But the curiosities I had is that they were not common to all children. He was interested in mystical things, in the great mysteries of the universe, in magic and the wisdom of ancient peoples. Sharing all these interests with his father Evandro, he grew up in a vast world of discoveries and lovely mysteries that were revealed one by one. But there was a mystery throughout his life that he was not able to reveal and this mystery is our story.

All you need to know is that at age 9, Victor was riding his bike from his best friend Ariel's house, and came across the mysterious object for the first time. That's when a fall fell, such was the impact caused by the bicycle wheel when it caught and some obstacle. He was coming fast and maneuvering, not paying much attention to the path. Victor lay slumped and moaning in pain. He was afraid he had broken his leg, so he didn't move. I was crying and trying to clean my mouth of a good amount of dust. But when he realized what the bike had hit, he had the heroic urge to get up and no longer felt pain. He realized he could stand upright, which ruled out a broken leg. The fascination caused by the mysterious thing induced him, numbing the pain. It was a corner of an object, something pointed upwards, forming a triangle.

Deep down he knew that it meant something and that it would be great and that he was there to possess her, to own her. With a long, sharp stone he began to dig around the object. It was hard work, the ground was hard and stony, difficult to drill. But after about 20 minutes in the laborious task, he finally unearthed the object, having it revealed in its entirety there in front of him. A box, which looked very old, was still not so visible under all that clay that covered it, but it turned out to be a beautiful wooden box, decorated and very well crafted by a talented artisan. He tied the box to the trunk of the bicycle and pedaled. He even pedaled with that crooked front wheel, because he wanted to get there soon and see the box. His eyes even sparkled when he looked back and saw his box, his box.

When he got home, he was careful to enter through the back, going down through the basement. He walked in quietly, looking around, not wanting to be noticed. He went to a small room in the basement of the house, where he had a workbench and tools, an old lawn mower in the corner. He put the box on the counter and took an old but considerably clean tow and began to unravel it. In fact, it was a nice box. On its cover was magnificently illustrated a king in a room, surrounded by women and their retinue. In the possession of the king, in the center of it all, on a pillow, a box that the king opened revealing its interior only for himself, out of sight of the meddlers. On the king's left shoulder, a spider with fangs armed and ready to sting him, but of course, this detailed detail of the sting, it was impossible to notice and was more in Victor's inventive head. Closing the picture, framing the lid, was an expensive and patient manual work, in which honeysuckle and pomegranate stood out, with all the spaces filled with branches of ash leaves and rose thorns. In front, in addition to the leafy details, an open book on which a hand extended and in the center of the hand an inverted triangle. The lock was a sinister golden spider, which fit perfectly into the convexity of the lid, with its long legs all well articulated and arranged. From its hole in the end of the abdomen to the lock. Its angle required the use of the upright wrench, as it was perpendicular to the spider's body and the box. The impressive wealth of detail fascinated Victor, who gazed at the box in wonder. The only thing that distracted him from that delightful and hypnotic delirium was realizing that she had no key and could not open it.

His wife obviously knew he couldn't touch the box or even ask about it. It was a secret he kept under lock and key and she often asked herself: "What's in that box"? After thinking about it so much, he began to suffer and feel deeply depressed. I didn't know the Victor from before, whom I had married 10 years ago. Yes, when she met him she already had the damn box, but it was still the happy, playful Victor, who made jokes and loved to make her smile. They were happy. Then, after receiving his first promotion in the service and rising through the ranks, a growing and violent ambition came to dominate him. Victor cared only about having him and left behind all the other things that really mattered. She didn't want children, which was a long-desired dream for Miriam, in addition to so many other things the two of them had planned together that now only seemed to be of value to her.

Victor put something inside the box, it was a pair of earrings, his wife's earrings and he had placed them carefully, almost ceremoniously, after which he uttered a few words almost in a whisper: "I invoke you to reveal to me a secret of the person to whom this object belongs. This secret is"... (translated from ancient Persian) and then ended the sentence by telling the secret in his own mother tongue: "Reveal to me, O knower of the mysteries of the habitable and uninhabitable worlds, if the owner of this object betrays the your husband. Because it is only in your own interest that I want you to reveal it, and because I am its bearer, I order it." Soon after saying these words the box closed itself abruptly and he left his office, not before putting the box in its proper hiding place, inside a safe, behind one of the paintings that formed his art gallery. He would soon know if his anguish had a real reason.

He polished his shoes with care. He had employees for such services, but some things he preferred to do himself. For they were mostly things that reminded her of her childhood and her father. The day, the night, the rain, the summer. It was another time, but it all felt the same and it hurt.

That night he hardly slept looking at the box. He had left her there beside him on the nightstand and he would get up, go to the bathroom, drink water, hearing any noise, he would go into the room, because he knew they would come to fight. He didn't know how to solve the key problem and settled down with a fantastic idea. She would tell her father, he would know what to do. Together they would open the box. And hopefully, with that captivating smile of a child, he slept.

Sunday morning was reserved for obligations to God and Victor as he had never done before, he woke up before everyone else and put on his best clothes, I mean, his best clothes for going to Mass. Sitting in the high chair at the bench, legs dangling, hands folded in his lap, he waited. When they woke up they couldn't hold back their laughter. Adele, his mother, upon seeing him, admiring herself and with her hands over her face, let out a giddy voice, "My beautiful son. How cute it was. It looks like a window mannequin".

"What mom? Showcase mannequin? Is it serious"? and surely he knew he couldn't avoid the bombshell that would come from his troubled teenage sister Ana, "Oh boy! You will regret it. This is not free, there is something. It's up to you, right"?

And turning his brother Ana's hair, he completed his joke and sat at the breakfast table with his cell phone and his fingers eager to dial ready for action. The father,

Evandro, who arrived later, just watched and looked in the way they both knew, complicit, he tells me later, the friends who don't need to say what they're thinking to each other, they just look at each other and understand.

Mass seemed to take forever. Victor longed for those magic words: "Go in peace and may the Lord accompany you." He had never waited so long for them until that moment. And when Mass was finally over he ran away. The small wooden chapel did not take long to empty and there were not a few faithful, it was a really small town, 15,000 inhabitants and there in the parish all were practicing and devout Christians. Victor was tearing the green grass from the chapel hill under his light feet. He was looking for his father, who was talking. He stopped scared, was quiet in respect, so that they could finish and be able to speak. Ah, but that conversation also seemed endless, "By God"! - Thought.

– Dad, Dad, listen!

– What's a boy? Don't pull me! Looks like he's going to get his father off the gallows!

– Dad. We have to go home. I want to show you something. It's important dad, you have to listen to me.

– Of course, let's talk about it. But let's have lunch at your grandmother's house today. Sunday, right? You already know this! - And crossing his arms Victor made that face of annoyance. Tightening his lips and frowning. The father took him by the shoulder and said, "Get in the car, boy"!

Shining shoes, ironed clothes, combed hair, Victor was lining up his tie. He went to the safe and took out the box. He placed it gently on the bedroom dresser and looked at it for a moment before opening it and as he opened it he felt in his breath, in his pores, all the magic happening. The sound that wasn't the human voice but a whispery, watery voice, trembling and yet vibrant, strong. The box would then reveal: "Such a loving wife does not have. But care must be taken, she is forgotten, so soon in need of her husband's place, someone else will take it. She remembers things her husband has already forgotten and it makes her cry. If he wants his life back, he had better take the reins and hold it." Yes, it was clear to him. That the cashier didn't even need to tell him. But the suspicions by the woman had to be confirmed and this the cashier responded. After closing itself as usual, it became again an inanimate box and as simple as any box. Victor blew away those deluded thoughts, nurtured his spirit of the happiest memories he could think of, and went into the kitchen, gave Miriam a hot, lingering kiss, and at work was friendly, outgoing, and still productive. The box had this power, it could make everything okay, but it could also end everything, revealing things that maybe it was better not to know. But it was hard for you to have such power in your hands and know when to use it or not.

- Let's take a look. Let me examine it. - The man, owner of an antique shop in the center of the city, was a careful investigation of the box using a monocle. Then he tapped the wood with the knuckle of his index finger and finally turned his attention to the spider that made up the clasp.

– What you have here is a very special object. I dare to say that it is from the 19th century before Christ, from the Persian Medo empire, or even before, it is difficult to identify, there are differences in styles. For example, the spider, it clashes with the rest, as if it were placed later, perhaps to frighten the person who found the box. Let's get down to business, this lock, a very complex lock. I've never seen anything like it in all these years in the profession. I will have to take a closer look. Come back tomorrow. You came late, I'll close it. Tomorrow is Saturday, I don't have many customers, I could pay more attention to your intriguing artifact.

– Dad, that man at the store scared me. Did you see the way he looked at the box and the way he spoke? It felt out of this world, more bizarre.

– My son, you are very imaginative. But I did realize the guy was kind of weird. He didn't give me much confidence. Let's go tomorrow and we won't leave him until he opens the box. Closed?

- Yea! – And they clapped their hands in the air.

Early the next day, before the antique store opened, they were already there. The man looked at them casually and laughed mockingly. – You really want to open this box. What do you think you'll find boy? A treasure?

– I just want to open up young man, we'll see later, right Dad?

- That's it man! - Confirmed Evandro winking at his son who returned smiling.

The Man stayed in his space inside the bench, a small space with a small table and a chair. The store had the most varied antique objects: record players, suitcases, radios, furniture, scientific, domestic and even mechanical devices. The two had already looked at everything there was to look at in the store until they heard a click and quickly the two together went towards the man, who turned to them with the box in hand.

– Gentlemen, the box is open. Who wants to do the honors? – Father and son looked at each other until Evandro said:

– Of course you are, son? Go there! - Nervous Victor opened the box slowly, wanting to enjoy a little of that suspense before a sudden revelation ended the charm of the moment, but when opening behold, the box was completely empty.

– Well, sorry boy. But the box is worth good money. If you change your mind and think about selling, come back. I will be happy to receive you.

Victor's sadness lessened when he saw in the box, once opened, a spell. He noticed that when he opened it she whispered and the sound rumbled in his ear like a bell or a bell, which warns of something. And there began his obsession with the box, much more serious than the fascination he had already nurtured. He kept the things dearest to him inside the box, debuting it with his collection of football stickers, and when he woke up and opened the box, he had the revelation of what the box was capable of. The box spoke in that magical note between the sound of human speech and angels, between a whisper and a scream, phonetically diluting words like sugar dissolves in water. And in his repertoire the complete description of all the players in that collection and anything else he asked about football.

Victor remained firm in his purpose of being a good husband, an exemplary employee. But some things started to bother him a lot. Like the promotion of Jairus, his co-worker. Victor also disputed the vacancy and it was Jairo who got it. He had to do something about it and he knew what it was. He waited for Jairo to be careless for a second, then went to his desk and without realizing it he grabbed his glasses and sneaked them into his pocket after which he started the conversation, to throw it off. The next morning the cashier had told him what he needed to know and Victor, using blackmail, made Jairo resign from the position. Nothing was more important to Jairo than that job and if they knew he was getting involved with an employee of the company, still a subordinate of his, it would be immediate dismissal. And so Victor did it once more. And vacation on the way, planned a trip with his wife Miriam. When he got home, he didn't find his wife in the living room or bedroom. Then he went to the office, when he arrived in the hallway he noticed that the door was open, which alerted him. A robbery, he thought, went back to the bedroom, took his gun from the top shelf of the wardrobe. It was slow, even breathing softly. When he reached the door, he grabbed the handle and promptly opened it, he shouted, holding the gun: "Stopped! Drop it now"! and when he came upon his own wife at his desk, box in hand, he fell to his knees in distress. Hands to face, mouth open, lack of air, floor. Miriam seemed to want to say something but couldn't until she finally uttered those words: "Didn't the box tell you it would happen"? And then it fell on the table, dead. Victor ran to the woman's aid, but it was too late. He lay on the table crying, hugging the dead woman. That's when he saw the spider coming down from her right shoulder and the bite right there on her shoulder and the box, where was it? There, he had to make sure. The case without a clasp, the stout golden spider was gone. The damned box took everything from him insofar as it falsely seemed to give it to him. Angry and crying, he threw the box on the floor, on the wall, he even stepped on it, nothing could break it. He went to the toolbox and picked up his sledgehammer. He hammered the box with all his strength and the box was still intact. The damn box intact and her broken heart.