The Secret Manuscript (8 page)

“Alright, even
if I was willing to accept that, how do you explain the fact that
he left me his house, and died completely broke?”

“We haven’t
ruled out the grandfather hypothesis just yet. Perhaps in his old
age, he felt guilty for not being a part of your life and wanted to
do one final gesture to make it up to you.”

“Okay, but he
didn’t have any children, and where’d all the money go?”

“Maybe he gave
it to charity, gambled it away, someone robbed him. There are a
million different complex scenarios that could explain all this,
and we would be foolish to think we could independently unravel the
complexity on our own. I say we forget about Mr. Gringer, his
mysterious alter ego, and count your blessings.”

Fall arrived
and with that came the start of a new school semester. Kyle had
earned a scholarship, enabling him to continue his studies. He was
pursing his Master’s degree at the University of Calgary, and spent
most of his time on campus either working in the lab, or attending
classes.

Ben awoke to
an empty house, which was exactly what he needed to start the day
writing. He went downstairs, made a pot of coffee, and sat in front
of his computer. His writer’s block had ended. When his fingers hit
the keyboard, words emerged on the screen.

The rough
concept of the story was to describe a character, similar in nature
to himself — a misanthropic orphan riddled with issues. He used the
name Ben as a placeholder, but vowed to change it to something else
later. Ben had not really outlined the plot, but decided to start
writing anyway and hope some bolt of creativity would continue to
come down from the muses and inspire him until the end.

At one point
in the afternoon, Ben decided to walk around the house to increase
his blood flow. Now that the house had electricity, the basement
was not so dark and scary. Other than the first exploration down
there, he had yet to return. However, with the courage of a brave
soldier, Ben marched down into the cold and eerie basement once
again. Looking around from the midway point of the staircase, he
envisioned what the basement would look like if it were completely
renovated.

He sauntered
around the basement without an agenda. He headed down the narrow
corridor and into each bedroom. The breadth of the rooms still
bothered him. He walked into one of the rooms and pounded his fist
on the far wall. There was a hollow echo, indicating it was not
concrete on the other side. Without having a fully formulated
hypothesis, he casually walked into the neighbouring room and again
pounded his fist on the far wall. It emitted the same hollow
sound.

He looked
around, but did not see anything unusual so he exited the room. On
his way out, he flicked the light switch off and proceeded down the
corridor the same way he came in. Once at the end of the corridor,
he stopped and turned around. Something unusual caught his eye that
he had taken for granted before. At the far end of the corridor,
there was a large cabinet nestled against the wall. It was peculiar
indeed since the rest of basement was devoid of any furnishings.
Had there been any other furniture down there, he would not have
thought anything of it, but on its own, it stuck out. Given that
Mr. Gringer was known for his occasional odd behaviour, Ben was
especially perceptive to spot any oddities.

Ben walked
down the corridor to take a closer look at the cabinet. Upon
inspection, he did not notice anything particularly unusual about
it. There were no strange markings, nothing in the drawers, and
nothing underneath it. There it was, on its own, without any
indication to what it was doing abandoned at the end of a lonely
hallway in the basement.

Ben casually
tried to move the cabinet, but it would not budge. He tried again,
this time using both hands and was able to move it about a foot
away from the wall, allowing him the space to inspect all around
it. He was not sure what to expect; he was merely satisfying his
curiosity. The wall behind the cabinet was bare. Similarly, the
back of the cabinet was devoid of anything of interest.

When he had
seen enough, he shoved the cabinet back into place. With one mighty
push, the unit hit the wall behind it, emitting the same hollow
echo as the other walls. It was obvious the walls were built in
front of the concrete retaining wall, but why? In a house this
small, it would not make a lot of sense to do that since it would
decrease the square footage. Ben struggled with this mystery, but
came up with no viable explanations. He walked into the main room
and started checking the rest of the walls. He pounded his fist
against each one and they all made a solid thud sound.

Very
peculiar
, he thought.

He convinced
himself it was nothing more than his imagination and dismissed the
investigation completely. He went back upstairs and did not give
the issue another serious thought.

Ben and Kyle
had been living in the house for a few months. Other than Gladys,
they had not made any effort to get to know their other
neighbours.

Ben’s days
were mostly filled with writing, drinking, and applying for the
occasional job. With the amount of money he had left, there was no
way he could sustain his current lifestyle, and he knew it. He
tried not to think about it, but Kyle, the more responsible one,
kept insisting he develop a plan.

After a long
day of writing, Ben was exhausted. His face carried the marks of a
depressed alcoholic. His hygiene was poor and he looked like he was
in rough shape. Despite his appearance, however, he was still
happier than he had been in Cold Lake.

Similarly,
Kyle had been working all day. It was a little after eleven o’clock
at night when he stepped through the door. He noticed Ben still
sitting in the same spot he always sat — at the computer in the
dining room. It looked like Ben had not showered or eaten anything
all day, which caused Kyle to be concerned.

“Hey, man,”
Kyle said, hanging his jacket on a nearby hook.

“How was
work?” Ben asked.

“It was good I
suppose. How was your day?”

“It was
actually quite productive. I wrote a few new chapters in my
novel.”

“That’s great.
How’s the book coming along?”

“It’s going
really well. Any day I spend writing is a good day. It doesn’t feel
like work, you know? Sometimes I have to remind myself to eat or
sleep because I am so focused on the story. I think this is what
I’m destined to do. I can’t remember the last time I felt like
this.”

“Can you make
any money at it?”

“Some people
can, but I don’t really care about that. I write because it’s the
only thing that makes me happy.”

“That’s great
and all, and I’m really happy for you, but I have some bad
news.”

“What is
it?”

“I found this
foreclosure notice taped to the front door. It’s to notify you of
back taxes owed on the property.”

Let me see
that,” Ben said as he snatched the notice from Kyle’s hands. “When
did you find this?”

“Just
now.”

“Weren’t you
home today? I’m surprised you didn’t hear them knocking.”

“They must
have come when I was in the basement.”

“Okay, so what
are we going to do about this?”

“Don’t worry.
It says here that we have sixty days to pay the property tax. If we
don’t get caught up with the payments by that time, there will be a
court hearing. I’m sure we’ll have enough money by then to cover
our expenses. Worst case scenario, we’ll sell the house and use the
money to rent a new place.”

“Alright, I’m
sure we’ll figure something out,” Kyle said as he exhaled a deep
sigh. He began to walk into the kitchen, but then paused, turned
around and asked, “What were you doing in the basement?”

“Just checking
things out.”

“Did you find
anything worth checking out?”

“Not
really.”

“Alright, I’m
going to bed. I’ll see you in the morning.”

After Kyle
went to bed, Ben continued to sit in front of his computer. It was
getting late and his brain was starting to fatigue. Ironically,
that was when an idea popped into his head.

Venturing into
the cold and damp basement was something he had only done a few
times, but this was the first time he had done it at night. As long
as he got over that fact, he would be fine. Once down there, there
were no external clues providing any indication as to what time of
day it was. With flashlight in hand, he marched downstairs one last
time before bed. There was something about the basement, some
nagging feeling that was bothering him that refused to go away.

Ben walked
over to an area he had not really explored up close before — the
fireplace. There was nothing particularly fancy about it; it was
just an ordinary brick fireplace. When he got close to it, he
noticed that it looked like it had not been used in a very long
time. There were no ashes or remnants of charred logs, just a thick
layer of dust. The fireplace was large, but not large enough where
he could fit comfortably inside. He turned the flashlight on,
placed one arm on the mantel, and contorted his body into the
fireplace. He was not sure what he was looking for exactly, but he
had never owned a house before so perhaps more than anything, he
wanted to inspect every square inch of the place, including the
fireplace.

While poking
his head inside, his initial instinct was to look up the smoke
chamber, which he did. His light penetrated the pitch-black flue
all the way to the top. He was surprised at how large the opening
was.

Someone
could crawl down here
, he thought.

He figured it
was the first time eyes had set sight on the dark chamber in many
decades. Ben then aimed the flashlight all around him, everywhere
but down.

After
satisfying his curiosity, he backed out of the fireplace. For a
brief and accidental moment, his flashlight pointed downward. That
was when he noticed something very unusual. There had been a
disturbance in the dust that was rather unsettling to him because
he was very sure he had not caused it. On one side of the
fireplace, there was what appeared to be the back half of a
footprint, the front half was concealed behind the side wall.
Logically speaking, that meant the side wall was not always in its
current position, and that it had been moved recently.

Ben’s
excitement rose as he was now convinced he was about to find Mr.
Gringer’s stash of twenty-two million dollars. He recalled old
episodes of Scooby-Doo and feverishly started pushing bricks as if
one of them were a button that would open a secret door. He pressed
every brick on the fireplace, but nothing happened. The next thing
Ben did was step completely inside the fireplace and try to
physically move the side wall of the fireplace, but that did not
work either. At this point, he was out of options, but was
unwilling to give up hope. He stood up straight inside the
fireplace and shone the flashlight all around. Again he started
pressing on all the bricks, but nothing happened.

Feeling
defeated, he was about to give up. That’s when he noticed something
he had previously missed. Nearly every brick inside the fireplace
had been scolded black, except for one. That implied that it was
newer than the rest of them. Ben figured it must have been
installed after the fireplace ceased to be used as a fireplace. At
this point, he was unsure what was special about it, but knew it
was something worth exploring further. When he pressed it, nothing
happened. However, when he pulled on it, it moved. The brick was a
decoy. He pressed it downward and it slid out to reveal a secret
button. Ben’s excitement shot through the roof.

Without giving
a second thought, Ben eagerly pressed the button. Just then, a
large stone slab dragged across the concrete, creating a loud sound
that echoed throughout the chimney.

The sound
filled the empty space and startled Ben. He turned around and saw
the side wall of the chimney moving slowly, revealing a secret
passageway. For a moment, Ben contemplated going upstairs to wake
Kyle, but his curiosity urged him to proceed without his
friend.

Despite his
fear of confined spaces, Ben had no choice but to enter. He
crouched low to duck his head under. With flashlight in hand, he
shone the light in the opening before warily poking his head
inside. There was not much to look at, just a long narrow hallway
about two feet wide. From Ben’s vantage point, it appeared to go
the length of the house and then stop. There was nothing in the
hallway and there were no markings on the walls.

Ben squeezed
through the tiny opening and entered the dark chamber. Once inside,
he was able to stand up and shine his flashlight all around. He
cautiously walked about fifteen feet before reaching the end. Once
at the end, he realized the hallway did not just abruptly end, it
wrapped around the house at a ninety-degree angle. Suddenly, it all
made sense to him. This explained why the walls sounded hollow —
because they were.

He had no idea
what would be waiting for him, but figured if someone had gone to
all this trouble to hide it, it must be valuable. The greediest
part of Ben’s conscience came to life. He envisioned all the
treasures that awaited him at the end of the tunnel. The best case
scenario would be a room filled with precious gems, gold bars,
priceless ancient relics, expensive artwork, and a mountain of cash
— hopefully the twenty-two million Gringer had won. The worst case
scenario would be to find a dead body. His greed quickly consumed
even that version as he imagined the skeleton holding a map which
would lead to hidden treasure. Ben picked up his pace until he
reached the end. Once there, he was confronted with a solid steel
door.