My Identity At Stake ???
By Forrest W. Schultz
When I learned from my
grandpa’s will that he had left a message for me in his (now my) safe deposit
box I immediately was reminded of that scene in The Bourne Identity
where the amnesiac Bourne goes to his safe deposit box to learn about his past
– to find out who he is. That is, I wondered whether there was something which
had happened to me or which pertained to me which I was unaware of, which would
be disclosed to me by the message from my grandpa in the safe deposit box. The
lawyer had made an appointment for me with the lady at the bank who is in
charge of safe deposit boxes, and, after I left, I drove straight to the bank,
arriving right on time for the appointment.
I was immediately
ushered into Miss Anderson’s office. It was SO good to see her again – it had
been a while. She was like a grandma to me, and – if truth be told -- I liked
her even better than my real grandmas! We took some time getting caught up, and
how delightful that was! Finally, our chat was over and we attended to the
business at hand.
As we went down to the
basement, where the safe deposit boxes are located, I confided to her my
concern about what my grandpa’s letter to me might disclose. She both tried to
allay my fears and also said to me, with a twinkle in her eye, that maybe
something exciting would be contained in his message to me. At last the moment
arrived: we inserted our keys, I opened the box, Miss Anderson left the room, and
I sat down at one of the tables. In the box was a large envelope on which these
words were printed: DO NOT OPEN THIS ENVELOPE!!! IF YOU DO SO, YOU WILL SURELY
DIE !!!
I sat there stupefied
when suddenly out of nowhere there appeared a tall woman with gun in hand
wearing a Hillary Clinton mask who told me to hand her the envelope! I was so
shocked and scared I obeyed her at once. She then told me to remain seated,
which I did. And then she went over to another table where she sat down, looked
at the envelope, laughed, opened it, and dropped dead, making a very loud
noise.
Miss Anderson heard it
and re-entered the room. I was so panicky I was barely able to tell her what
had happened. She told me to stay seated while she telephoned the police. They took
only a few minutes to arrive, since the police station is only a block away.
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It only took a few
minutes for the detective to interview me and Miss Anderson and for the coroner
to pronounce the woman dead (of a heart attack). When her fingerprints and photograph were
uploaded into the computer, no match was found. The detective told us he was
taking a hair sample to send off for DNA testing to see if her identity could
be determined that way. Nothing more was discussed, and before they left the
detective told us he had heard of banks robbed by people wearing masks of
Presidents, but never of one by a robber wearing the mask of someone RUNNING
for President!
One thing I did not
tell either Miss A or the detective was the warning I had seen on the outside
of the envelope. The reason I did not do so is that the warning is no longer
there!!! This whole thing is weird enough without having to talk of any more
weirdness! Another strange thing is that the envelope is not sealed! And there
is NOTHING inside!! When I told Miss A
how puzzled I was at what had happened, she replied that (with a twinkle in her
eye) that she knew someone who might be able to explain it – her niece Mandy,
who enjoys solving puzzles like this, and
in playing tricks like this on people.
Maybe, mused Miss A, Mandy had something to do with it, because when she
was here recently she spent a lot of time with my Grandpa. Miss A then invited me to have supper with
her where Mandy will be present, which would give me the opportunity to chat
with her.
I accepted her gracious
offer, and, a few hours hence, at that supper (and afterward) I had a long chat
with Mandy. She revealed to me that she
and my grandpa and the masked women and the policeman and coroner planned it
all. The masked woman, who was suffering
from an incurable cancer, used this device as a way of masking her
suicide. And Mandy and my Grandpa
planned the thing as a way to get me and Mandy together so we would fall in
love and get married, which, indeed, is what happened: very rapidly after Mandy’s revelations I was
soooo smitten with her, I did not hesitate to do so or to go along with Grandpa’s
plan whereby we would live in the house he bequeathed to me and to, together with
Mandy, run the business he owned in town.
And, in so doing, I DID
find my identity!! Mandy and I did not
always live HAPPILY ever after, but we always lived INTERESTINGLY ever after!! I shall not provide here the details of
exactly how Mandy and my Grandpa hatched and carried out their plot. For those details see the Appendix. Just kidding, there is no appendix – why not
try to figure out for yourself just how they did it!
Grantville, Georgia
July 8, 2015
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