Free Living Forest by Travis Lyle Page B

children some day, but everything that has happened to me leaves me feeling less than special. I place my head on the table, like I’m back to sleeping in class. Barely making the plate of Angelic Shrimp and Lobster to the table, Annie burst into tears at the loss of William.
    “Mr. Wolf, I’m sorry for asking Sir, but are we going to lose our jobs because of…”
    Her tears bringing tears to flow down my right eye,
    “No ma’am, you will not lose this job. In fact I need you to help me here. I have no where else to go right now.”
    Still bawling,
    “Thank you Mr. Wolf. Your words are very kind.”
    From her tone and expression, I don’t think she has anywhere else to go either. She lives here at the mansion along with five other staff members. To William, they were family when he wasn’t with us. Giving the warmest sincerity from my heart, but overwhelmed with exhaustion I say,
    “Annie, I think I’m going to head up to my room. Go ahead and let everyone know their jobs are safe as long as I live.”
    After finishing my meal, I clean up and finally head to my room. Lying on my bed, William’s words keep entangling within my mind,
    “I remember seeing an old wooden chest get loaded into the moving van that I know did not belong to your father. I’m just saying, when we get back home you should finally unlock that door and go into that room. Just take a look for yourself.”
    I grab my key and walk to the room across the hallway. Unlocking the door, I walk to the closet which I have the only key for. The closet is more like a room in itself with over three hundred square feet of space. Taking off the last lock to the memories of my past, I open the door.
    “Boom, crash, bang,”
    The chest falls out colliding against my legs. Someone placed this damn box directly in front of the door. Pissed off and in pain, I mumble many curse words under my breath while dragging the chest to my room. I sit down and prepare myself for what may lie within this box. I just hope it’s not the body of someone. The crate does weigh around a hundred and thirty pounds. It’s just heavy enough to make me scared while opening the lid.
     
     
    Chapter Seven
    Looking inside the chest, the glowing of gold quickly grasps my eyes. Reaching in, many papers and books block my path to the glimmering metal. Pulling the books out to clear my way to the gold, I notice that they are hundreds of years old. Slowing down, I carefully move the books to the side. I can now see the golden coin lying beside a stone axe. One side of the coin is molded with an equal armed cross. The other side gloriously presents the symbol of the free Mason’s. The stone axe looks ceremonial with the eye of an Eagle chiselled into the knob, but stained blood looks as if the axe cries red tears.
    Underneath the stone axe is a leather bottom, protecting the ancient relic. The more I admire the old leather, I begin to notice that the leather is more like a small blanket. Remarkably it’s still soft like it had been tanned recently, but I still continue to take precaution. Pulling it out, the sight of ink clutches my attention. As the leather unfolds, a giant map reveals itself. The map is well detailed, but the ink is more of a dark reddish-brown color rather than black. It really looks like the ink used is blood. Many ancient Algonquian symbols detailed the map along with a story written on the entire right side and bottom. The map itself only took up the top left corner of this massive leather blanket.
    Some of the books are even written in Algonquian. I only know this language because of my father. We are Shawnee which my ancestors spoke a form of Algonquian. He made me learn our language and history. He also shown me symbols of an earlier language that he’d draw and express to me that it’s a part of our more ancient heritage from the first settlers of North America. What’s strange is that he always acted like the world was going to end in my lifetime, but he