Dovetail(69)

“Well, hopefully, I won’t die,” she said finally. “At least, not anytime soon.”

“I wouldn’t let that happen,” he’d assured her.

That night, with the storm raging outside, Joe wondered if she was awake at that moment as well. When the rumble of thunder came, he decided that no one could be sleeping through this. He got out of bed and pulled the curtain back to look out. It was dark, far darker than it would be at Kathleen’s house, where the streetlights lit the way. When flashes of lightning lit up the sky, he could clearly see, for a split second, the trees whipping in the wind. There would be limbs down in the morning, no doubt about that. He could add yard cleanup to his list of things to do. The thunder came in surges, building and ebbing as the rain came down in sheets. He felt sorry for anyone out in this weather. Even driving would be a challenge. A person would definitely need to have their windshield wipers on high.

He pulled the curtains aside and dragged a chair to the window, positioning himself to watch the storm’s light show. This was one of those times it would be nice to have someone there with him to share the experience. The rain softened to a gentle patter, and in the distance, he could now see rolling waves on the surface of the lake.

Lightning flashed lower in the sky and then zigzagged downward, striking a tree. Crack! Joe’s jaw dropped as the top half of the tree broke off, and limbs flew in every direction, like a bomb had detonated.

He leaned forward, peering downward, thinking the lightning strike might have started a fire, but there was no sign of flames. Still, he mused, it could be smoldering unseen. Unlikely, but did he really want to take a chance? He exhaled in frustration; he wouldn’t be able to fall back asleep until he checked.

He pulled on his jeans and a T-shirt, knowing they’d be soaked by the time he returned. At the bottom of the stairs were some work boots, an ancient pair he’d found in the barn and had used a few times already. He slid his feet into the boots, grabbed a flashlight, and went out to inspect the damage.

He went into the cluster of trees, moving instinctively until he came to where the lightning had struck. Just as he’d seen from the window, the branches and limbs of the tree were scattered in every direction. Walking around the tree trunk, he saw that it had broken off at shoulder level. From the scorch marks, it looked as if the lightning had hit the trunk on one side. The rain fell steadily, and he walked around the tree, shining a beam of light from every angle, glad that he wasn’t seeing any burning embers. He had the rain to thank for that, he guessed. The tree looked half-dead, the wood too damp to burn. Tomorrow, he’d gather up the mess and saw down the remaining part of the tree.

Satisfied that there was no fire hazard, Joe had turned away from the tree to go back to the house when the toe of his boot hit something. He swung the light beam and landed on a section of the tree trunk with a hollow in its center. Nestled in the hollow was something rectangular. He leaned over to get a closer look and discovered a container the size of a small shoebox. He bent over and picked it up, jogging to the porch to get a closer look out of the rain.

Once he was under the overhang, he noticed that although the exterior of the box was rimmed with rust along the edges, it was intact. He put the flashlight under his arm and tried to open it but found it locked tight. Aiming the light at the latch, he spotted an opening designed for a key. So it was locked, but it wasn’t Fort Knox. Nothing that a crowbar couldn’t pop open.

Then he remembered the dream he’d named the Owl Dream. In the dream, he was the one who’d put the metal box in the hollow of the tree. It was both a dream and a memory. He’d put the box in that spot decades ago, before he, Joe, was even born, and there it had sat until just now. The idea boggled his mind.

He was halfway to the house when he remembered the key Kathleen had found in the hope chest.





CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE





1983


Kathleen had just shut off her alarm clock and gotten out of bed when the phone rang. She ran down the stairs two at a time and plucked the phone out of its receiver. “Hello?” She clutched it to her ear and tried to catch her breath.

“Kathleen, it’s Joe. It’s not too early to call, is it?”

“No, it’s fine. I was awake.”

“Good.”

“Is something wrong?” She rubbed the sleep out of her eyes and stifled a yawn. She was usually staggering into the kitchen to make coffee at this hour. The store didn’t open until later on Saturdays, but she liked to get an early start at home.

“No, nothing’s wrong. I just wondered if you still have the key you found in Alice’s hope chest. I found a locked metal box that I’m thinking might be a fit.”

Kathleen perked up at hearing this. “Really?”

“Yes, really.” The grin in Joe’s voice came over the telephone line. “If I’m wrong, I can always pry it open, but I wanted to try the key first.”

She leaned against the wall. “Where did you find this box?”

“That’s the really interesting part. It was inside the hollow of a tree that got struck by lightning last night. I went out to check on the damage, and it was right there, waiting for me.”

“Inside the hollow of the tree? Like in your dream?”

“Yeah. This is all pretty weird, right?”