The Box

by Rachel Chernick

Jackie McGrear was just 18 when she died. It was right before her high school graduation that she was found. She died at our favorite place in Berkeley; she was murdered at our favorite place in Berkeley.

Death is the most mysterious, ambiguous, and terrifying aspect of life. As I sat staring up at the priest, his words on this subject did not reach my ears for my thoughts were screaming louder than his voice could carry. I was not going to sit back to have someone tell me how I feel about the death of one of my best friends, a sister. Death is a mystery, and so is the death of Jackie McGrear.

Ten years earlier

I was six years old when my parents gave me a magenta metal box with a picture of a frog on it. I hated the color magenta and was frightened by frogs ever since I found a dead one in my backyard. I could never figure out what to do with that box until one cold night in January, the day before my 8^th birthday.

“Sh!!!” Jackie put her pointer finger up to her lips, “Rian, did you get the money?”

“Yeah I got it and here’s the box. Let’s go.” I whispered, “Do you guys got yours?” I raised my eyebrows and starred at Jackie, Emma, and Lucy, my three best friends standing in front of me. Once they nodded there was silence. Words were unnecessary. We knew where we needed to go.

The four of us scurried down the steps of the Walter house and down the three blocks to Indian Rock.

“Let’s put it over here,” I yelled. “I’m in here,” I was hidden in a crack in the rock with a finger pointing towards the ground. Emma bent down and brushed away the woodchips with her hands, “Jackie, would you hand me a shovel?”

Lucy shined her flashlight as Jackie, Emma and I took turns digging. “Gimme the money and I’ll put it in the box,” Lucy took the five dollars from each of us, counted the money, and put it in the magenta box, “Twenty dollars, it’s a good start.”

“I just want to get out of here,” Jackie pointed out.

“Me too,” Emma responded, “Far away from my daddy hitting my mommy.”

“Away from my foster brother’s fists. You guys, I’m scared,” Jackie took a deep breath as we all stared sympathetically.

I wanted to get away from my parents who never paid attention to me. “A boat. We learned about them in history class today. A man named Columbus found India because of a boat. We can go far in a boat and get far, far away from your foster brother.” I said in a comforting way as I looked at Jackie and began rubbing her back.

“Then it’s settled.” Lucy turned the flashlight towards the hole and she stood up and started to cover up the box with dirt, “Every month until our high school graduation we will each put five dollars in the box-- if one of us has extra money that will work too. No one else can find out about this. And I mean no one.”

Once the box was completely covered the four girls put the woodchips back over it and just as they had found it. Before they left and headed home they agreed to meet the last day of the month. Every month till graduation.

Nine years later

1:00 am. A grown came from the other room, “Mom, are you okay?” my voice was trembling. This was the third time this week, her face was pale and she was shaking uncontrollably.

“She’ll be fine honey, go back to bed,” my father said in a comforting tone that had just the opposite effect.

I knew something was wrong. She wasn’t herself lately; she hadn’t been going to work and spoke very little.

“I am sick of this! I need answers, why is mom acting this way? What is wrong and why aren’t you telling me?” my rage was taking over. I needed answers.

“Go to bed honey, she’ll be fine.”

His cold hand clasped over my shoulder, “No!” my voice grew louder as I ripped his hand from my skin, “What the fuck is happening--you better fucking tell me!”

“Your mother is sick.” He explained, “She has a form of cancer that is not …”

I stopped listening and my thoughts trailed. I refused to lose my mother, “What can I do?” I interrupted my dad’s long diagnosis.

“The problem is money. You can take on more hours at the café you’ve been working at, maybe get a second job, your mother can’t work and if we keep it up we won’t be able to pay for her treatment.”

“Will we ever be able to pay for it? How much is it? Isn’t there health insurance? “

“Rian, please breath.”

I took a deep breath and noticed that I’d been holding it for about a minute.

“It’s gonna be very expensive, anything you can do would be great.”

I knew what I had to done. It had been nine years of putting money in that stupid ugly magenta lock box. My friends would understand. I was sure.

I sprinted down the three blocks to Indian Rock and into the crack in the rock that had become so familiar in the past ten years. I took my shovel as I began to dig up the box I had seen every month since that day right before my eighth birthday. After a couple minutes my arms began to get tired. I continued digging and was confused as to why my arms started to fatigue. Maybe it was because it was the first time my three best friends weren’t there to help me. I kept digging and grew more and more confused. I decided to keep digging and make my hole wider. After 15 minutes of digging I found it. It seemed that it had been moved from the spot my four friends and I had kept the box the last ten years. I put the dirt and the woodchips back the way I had found them and walked out of the cave; there was Jackie standing there starring at me.

“What are you doing?” she asked suspiciously

“Jackie, I have a good reason,” my mind blanked, “Please understand,” I was now begging, “Wait why are you here? All alone so late?”

Jackie ripped the magenta box out of my hands and started running. My hands began to moisten and all the blood rushed toward my head. I quickly followed after her. Dodging the wooden bench and ducking under the famous sign she then headed up the rock. My next reaction was anger, “Jackie, stop. I need this money.” She seemed indifferent. My breathing pace quickly increased. Jackie was never the best runner when I finally caught up to her I took hold of the box and attempted to pry her fingers off of it. The next thing I know my back is slammed against the rock behind me and my shoulder is jabbed by a sharp object. I got up and felt the rage growing inside of me.

“Jackie, what the hell is wrong with you?”

The next part is a blur. I stood up quickly paying no attention to my bleeding shoulder. It happened in fast forward. As if I was watching a movie and I could rewind at any point if I chose. But unfortunately the events that proceeded could never be rewound. My hands grasped the box and I used all the force in the world to pull it towards my body. The next thing I know the box is in my hands and Jackie is nowhere to be seen.

The death of Jackie McGrear may have been a mystery to the world but only I would know the true reason for her death. And the mystery will go unsolved.