Chapter 1, part 3

“We shouldn’t just get rid of this stuff in a yard sale.” Her mother had asked them to come over to help set up, but she felt like this was some sort of betrayal of their grandfather. He’d loved all his stuff, and the clutter had been a beloved part of him.

Bobby, her younger brother, bent down to pick up a box from the floor. “It would’ve suited him. Someone will come today, see a little treasure where we see junk, and take it home to love just like Grandpa did when he bought this stuff. Anyway, you do not have room in your apartment.”

“I know.” She sighed and knelt down to open a box. Chipped dishes with pale flowers painted on them were nestled inside. “His old ‘china’!”

“No,” Bobby said. His tone was clear. She was not taking it home.

“Someone should keep these.”

“They aren’t worth anything. They’re cheap and cracked. Anyway, you don’t have pretend tea parties anymore. At least, I hope not.”

Naomi smiled as she gently picked up a saucer to examine. She remembered a small kitchen table with teddy bears seated around it and an old man and a little girl clinking empty cups in a toast with pinkies in the air. She sighed and set the saucer back in the box. She knew that if she took the dishes, they would just stay in the box, be put in an already overcrowded closet, and would never see the light of day again. Hopefully, someone would buy them, give them a good home, and maybe let some little girl play with them.

“I want to go through the boxes first and make sure we’re not selling anything that we may want to keep.” Bobby looked like he wanted to argue but just set down the box he was holding and took the box of dishes instead. He left to take it down to the front yard. Naomi began digging through more boxes.

She thought the footsteps she heard coming up the stairs belonged to Bobby returning for another box, but it was her mother who stuck her head in.

“What is taking so long?” She saw her answer. Naomi sat on the floor with crumpled newspaper around her and partially empty boxes.

“No,” her mother said the same way that Bobby had said earlier.

“But Mom, I want to keep something.”

Her mother looked at her with wry amusement. “Fine, but you can only keep three things. The rest has to go. Your father and I are already keeping a lot of stuff that your grandfather treasured. You can keep three mementos.” Naomi nodded. She knew her mother was just trying to keep her from weighing herself down with memories, but she wanted to keep a few reminders. Three would do.

Bobby came and took boxes as she was done with them. So many things were stamped with memories. Naomi didn't know what to choose. She finally settled on an old overcoat that Grandpa Harry had worn for years and had the smell of his cologne still on it. She would not wear it, but it would always be in her coat closet so that she could rub her face against it and smell him for years to come. Next, she decided on his ‘dressy’ cuff links. They were small garnets. She remembered him wearing them when she graduated from college. He had been so proud of her that day. The third and final piece was difficult to choose. She took longer and longer with each box. Bobby had begun to wait for her to pass him one, but finally, after digging through tens of boxes, she found one that looked as though it had been packed by Grandpa Harry. The cardboard was discolored and weak.

“Do you know what this is?” she asked Bobby, who stood leaning against the doorway.

“No.” He came to stand beside her.

She opened the box carefully and peered inside. “What is this stuff?” None of it was recognizable. She began to unpack it to see the items better.

“Oh gross,” she blurted and dropped one item. It was a shrunken head.

“Cool.” Bobby picked it up and slipped it into his pocket. She shuddered and looked warily back into the box. A necklace of animal teeth came next. Both siblings passed on it. The box contained snake skins, bird feathers, crystals, and at the bottom of the box, there was a glass case.

“What can this be?” She lifted it up. They both peered at it. The case was long and narrow and resting inside it appeared to be a bone.

“There’s a slip of paper taped to the bottom.” Bobby plucked it off. It was old and discolored like the box. “It says ‘A unicorn horn, for Naomi’s twenty-fifth birthday.’”

“A unicorn horn?”

“Probably a carved piece of bone made to look like a unicorn horn.”

“Do you think Grandpa really believed it?”

“No.” He showed her the note. ‘Unicorn’ had quotation marks around it. She smiled at the glass case. It would certainly have been a unique gift. This was her third memento, the gift he meant to give her. She felt an ache in her chest then. It was so like her grandfather to think of the dearest things to do or give to his family. A unicorn horn for a woman who had recently reached adulthood but still felt like a little girl sometimes. He had known that the innocence and fantasy would have appealed to her.

“You can take the rest of the boxes. I’m not looking through anymore,” she said.

“Are you sure?” She nodded and took her three things downstairs. She couldn't look at anymore. It was becoming painful.

At home, the coat went in her closet, the cuff links went in her jewelry box, and the unicorn horn was to go on her coffee table right after she washed the dust off of it. She opened the case and lifted the horn out. It certainly looked ‘authentic’. The horn was about eighteen inches long and tapered to a sharp point. She set it aside and filled the sink with water. She'd just clean it up nice and have a relaxing day at home. She'd planned to go through her mail, do the crossword, and maybe watch a little television. Yes, just a nice, relaxing, normal day.

Continue to Chapter 1, part 4