Pete's Box

It was midday and Pete was sat in his bed killing Nazis on his Playstation whilst munching a packet of cheesy nachos. His lips were orange, and so were the bed covers from where he wiped his hands to not cover his controller in cheese.

“Time you got out of bed now, Petey”, said his mum as she walked in with a pile of fresh, clean clothes. “Come on, put this shirt on. Have to look smart for the lawyer’s today.”

“Do I have to go?” moaned Pete. “It’s only Grandad’s Will reading; it’s not as if he’s going to give me anything. He never liked me.”

“Don’t say that,” said his mum quickly, “he loved you. He just didn’t like you moaning about spending a few hours with him every fortnight. Anyway, you’re going, so get up and put on this shirt. We leave in 20 minutes.” She handed him a white shirt and black tie out of the wardrobe after Pete quickly wiped his hand on the covers one more time.

Pete carried on playing as his mum left the room, until he heard her shout up the stairs:

“Come on Petey, you’ve got five minutes!” Pete then rolled out of bed and slowly put his clothes on. Eventually, he sauntered down the stairs, with seconds to spare.

Pete found himself squeezed into a small antique office with a large selection of his family. The suited, middle-aged man behind a solid oak desk read out the instructions left to him in regards to the estate of Pete’s Grandad. The sale of the house was to be shared between Pete’s dad and aunt. As the man read out the details of other various objects, which were distributed between everyone else in the office, Pete stole the occasional crisp from his pocket. Some relatives were getting old war medals and other’s receiving old watches and furniture. The lawyer lastly turned to Pete and began reading. Pete gave his hand a rub on the back of his black trousers.

“To my Grandson Pete, I leave this box. It may look like nothing, but it is something you need to protect for all your life. You need to make sure it is never opened, by anyone. I am giving you a huge responsibility, and in doing so I hope to bring out the best in you. I know you can be a caring, loving young man. This is to prove it to you.” As the lawyer finished reading, he pulled out a wooden, black box and gave it to a bewildered Pete as his dad walked out. The box was heavier than he expected it to be.

*

Over dinner that night, Pete was sat quietly at the table, while his parents spoke to each other, occasionally attempting to enthuse him in conversation. Then his dad turned to Pete with a carrot on his fork.

“Y’know, he’s had that box for as long I remember. I always wanted to just turn the handle and open it, just to see what was inside. He was always telling me about how dangerous it was. Telling me I must never open it.”

“It’s just a box dad. You get a small fortune, and I get a box I can’t open. Yippee.”

“Now come on Pete” reasoned his mum, “it shows that he clearly trusts you. Just make sure you make him proud.”

“Whatever,” said Pete as he sulked off upstairs and went to his room.

He sat on his bed and held the box up close to his face. He ran his fingers over the carvings on the box as he thought about how old they were. ‘They must be prehistoric’ he thought to himself. He continued to study then, running his finger across the lines, and noticed that they depicted scenes of people running from big waves. He gave a small smile.

 He wondered if it can never be opened, then why hasn’t anyone just thrown it into the ocean, or buried it deep underground. Surely that’s safer than passing it on? Besides, what damage can it actually do; it’s just a box. Someone must have opened it before now, how could a box this old still be shut?

Pete gave the handle a short turn, and then stopped. He heard the sound of a mechanical movement. He gave the box a quick shake, but heard nothing. Cautiously, he put it down and shuffled across the bed and turned his console on.

As the hours went on, Pete’s eyes grew heavy. Eventually, he gave up and went to sleep.

Not long after, his dad peered through the door. When he saw his son was asleep, he crept in and grabbed the box and then quickly slipped back into the dark corridor. He creaked down the stairs and into the living room, turning on a lamp as he sat down on the sofa.

He placed the box on the coffee table in front of him. With his chin in his hands, he stared at the box, reminiscing about all the times in his life when he was told by his father he couldn’t touch the box, let alone open it. When he was young, he remembered the box being kept in a bigger box, on the top shelf in the shed at the bottom of the garden. One time, when he was 9, he went in to fetch his father a hammer. It was the first time he had been alone with the box. He remembered attempting to climb up onto the work top to reach it. Just as he managed to reach it, his father walked in, dragged him off inside and gave him a slap.

And now, his own son was being trusted with the box instead of him. He quickly snatched the box and began violently turning the handle. The box then suddenly sprung open, dropping it as a strong wind rushed around the room, pushing over photo frames and knocking over the lamp, leaving Pete’s dad in darkness.

“What the fuck was that!?” he said quietly to himself, as he sat back in the sofa.

*

The next morning, Pete woke to the radio on his alarm. Instead of music, he heard the cold voice of the presenter.

“Severe weather is predicted to hit the UK within the next few hours, with the Met Office issuing a Red Weather Warning of high winds and heavy rain nationwide. In other news, numerous earthquakes have been detected around the globe under various oceans, with the possibility of tsunamis hitting many countries. We will bring you more information on these developing stories as they break.”

Pete turned over and saw the box was missing. He sat up and quickly started looking around his room. It wasn’t in sight.

He burst out his bedroom and thundered down the stairs. He saw his dad from behind, sat on the sofa.

“Dad! I’ve lost the box; I’ve lost Grandad’s box!” Pete walked around the sofa, and then started to notice the mess the room was in. “Dad?” He got no reply.

Pete sat on the sofa next to his dad who was still silent. Pete then looked down at the floor and noticed his box laying under the coffee table.

“I opened it Pete. I’m sorry Pete, I just needed to know what was inside… Turns out it was just wind. I opened it and some wind came out.”

“Have you not heard the news?” said Pete, as he picked up the remote and turned the television on. “The world has gone a little bit nuts.”

A news announcer looked down the camera, in his usual deadpan manner.

“Some breaking news just coming in. The largest earthquake ever recorded has just been traced under the Atlantic Ocean. There are reports of huge waves heading for Northern America and Western Europe, including the UK. Please stay tuned for a Government announcement shortly.”

Pete and his dad turned and looked at each other as they heard the crash of thunder outside.

As rain fell heavily from the sky that afternoon, the streets flooded as drains struggled to handle the rain that fell over the next few hours. Fields became water logged and rivers burst their banks. With the rain and impending tsunami, people were flocking to churches to repent their sins, as preachers proclaimed this was the work of the Almighty, punishing us for our immorality. Meanwhile, environmental activists saw this as proof that global warming was causing sudden and unexpected climate changes.

As people struggled to hold back the surge of water coming from the skies, they began panicking as they tried to think of ways to fight off the next disaster facing them.

Pete’s parents began moving their possessions upstairs as Pete sat on his bed as close to his television as possible, so he could see the blood splattering in his game. The Government had issued a map of those who were most at risk of being affected by the waves. They lived far enough in land to not face total destruction, but were at threat of large amounts of water damage as water rushed inland. Those who lived on the Western coast were trying to be evacuated by the Government in an attempt to reduce the risk to as many people as possible.

The news showed footage of available buses and coaches from all over the country racing in the direction of areas considered to be at the most risk. All major roads leading east were gridlock, as people packed the roads in vehicles with as many people crammed in as possible. Cars had people laying on laps of others, and on buses people standing throughout and even laying in luggage shelves.

Television and radio carried constant reminders of the impending disaster, repeating the advice given by the Government, which was always packaged with the words ‘Don’t Panic’ preceding them.

Many of Pete’s neighbours were in the streets, boarding up their doors and windows with whatever they could find; tables, fence panels and other doors. They had even filled up sacks with sand stolen from local beaches. All in vain attempts to make their homes waterproof.

However, opposite Pete’s family home, a middle-aged man lived alone, called Oscar. Since he heard the news of the tsunami, his figure could be seen at the top window of his home, looking out as the held a scruffy teddy.

Pete heard shouting outside, just as his dad exploded into the room, switching everything off and looked out the window. As Pete’s mum walked in the room, his dad started pushing Pete towards the door.

He saw a hooded drunk man noisily stomping through the water down the street, swinging about a long scaffold pole. His dad quickly closed the curtains, turned, and started herding them out the door.

 “Get in the back bedroom you two”, yelled Pete’s dad to Pete and his mum. “I’ll go downstairs and lock the doors. Something is going on outside.”

“You’re nervous of everything now dad; just because you opened a box…”

“Just do as I say Pete… NOW!”

Pete didn’t appreciate being pushed, pulled and yelled at, so slowly mooched his way through the stairs landing, while his dad rushed around pulling curtains and turning off all the lights.

“What’s the worst thing this man can do? Smash a few plant pots?”

“Just trust your father. Everyone’s gone crazy the last few hours,” replied his mum.

They carried on sitting in silence as they listened to Pete’s dad ranting to himself.

“That bloody box. A box that important and no-one ever thought to put a lock on it in all that time.” He continued to grumble. “Of course someone was going to eventually open a strange black box. It’s human bloody nature!”

From downstairs, they heard the sound of breaking glass. Pete rushed off down the stairs before his mum could hold him back. He could hear his heart thudding as he climbed down the stairs. He saw the dark silhouette of a man fumbling around the house as his dad tried to calm the man down.

The man hobbled around their front room, smashing the TV and started aggressively, yet unintelligibly, shouting. Pete and his dad looked at each other.

“Calm down mate. Just put down the stick,” said Pete’s dad as he began trying to tackle the rampaging drunk to the floor. The intoxicated man then turned around and blinked. He began flaying his arms around, pushing Pete’s dad to the floor.

Pete then ran over to his dad, checking he was okay.

The man sat down on the chair, throwing the pole at them before reaching inside his jacket, whilst muttering to himself. He pulled out a gun and with a shaky hand, attempted to point it at Pete and his dad huddled on the floor.

The radio was on in the background. The announcement began describing how people could see the wall of water approaching. The sound of people screaming could be heard.

 “My life’s bin fucked up” started the man on the sofa, slurring. He continued: “Me family is in Wales, and they carnt get on a bus down. You got a family, nd I won’t.”

 “Look, you’re not the only one here suffering; we’re all going to lose stuff”, said Pete’s dad. “And why us?”

“I saw dis ‘ouse. I fort ‘ow luvely it was; ‘ow I wished I had a home like it. Then I fort, well, Why shod they ‘av’ wot I can’t?”

Pete’s mum started descending the stairs and froze as she saw what was unfolding.

“Please don’t kill my family. There’s no need for this, is there now,” said Pete. “Just because you’ve lost what you love; don’t take it away from me. I’m sure you don’t want to do this.”

His mum smiled at him. The man struggled, and staggered a few steps as he done so. Everyone heard a crunch from under his foot.

“Shut up! You dunno wot I’ve bin though!” he yelled, pacing towards the pair still on the floor. Pete looked towards the windows and saw a white dove, perched on the window sill.

The drunken man started pacing towards Pete and his dad, with the gun held at arm’s length. The room was then filled with excitement from the radio announcer.

“My God! The water has disappeared; in front of our very eyes. It’s… It’s just gone?”

The man stopped and dropped the gun, as they all looked towards the radio. Except for Pete, who noticed his Grandad’s box was broken.

*

The rain had eased off as the hours passed. The country was still expecting the huge waves to batter the isles, but they never seemed to come. It later was announced that the waves had died out to nothing very much. Some people claimed it was because masses of people repented, and had found their faith in God. The deity was testing the people of his world once more. Others said it was proof that we had spoilt the world we live in, and that it was becoming more unruly and unpredictable.