After the incident with the cat, I decided to take a little more precaution with the suitcase. I placed it in my spare room where the animals couldn’t reach it. I didn’t need any more pets disappearing into the time vortex.
The spare room was feeling more and more cramped. Each time my mother gave me a bundle of clothing, or I brought some things down from the attic, I stashed it in that room. I don’t know why I didn’t just donate it all, but somehow I felt that I shouldn’t just discard these things without further investigation.
Unfortunately, the investigation had to wait as I received several requests from the temp agency, one after the other. Thinking of my dwindling savings that I had been living off of since my last gig, I felt I had to take work when it was available.
Over the next few weeks I didn’t have much time to think about the growing piles in my spare room, much less do anything about them.
As the 4th of July weekend approached, I finally got a break. I was looking forward to fireworks, and time with family, or friends, but as luck would have it, everyone was busy. My friends and their significant others were heading off on trips, and even my parents were going out of town.
So, instead of hamburgers and hotdogs and a sparkling, colorful sky, I found myself face to face with my spare room.
“Well, I guess now’s as good a time as any.” I said to no one.
I entered the room and I tried to figure out where to begin.
The suitcase sat on the floor in front of the mountain of boxes and bags. I snatched it from the ground and said, “You are definitely going in the KEEP pile.” I grinned at the suitcase as I placed it on a chair. Although it remained silent, as usual, I felt sure it was smiling back at me.
I turned around to face the mess that awaited me and the smile vanished from my face. What had I gotten myself into? I sighed. There was only one way to eat an elephant so I grabbed one bag and simply got to work.
As I waded through a bag of my mother’s old clothes I pulled out a beautiful vintage dress that looked like it was from the 1960s. I felt a jolt of delight at seeing this incredible garment and my brain began to hum. I was standing there gaping at the dress when I realized…I recognized that hum.
Slowly, I turned around and faced the suitcase. “You like this?” I asked.
The hum got stronger and I felt a surge of serotonin.
“Ok, then.” I said to the suitcase. I placed the dress in the “Keep” pile and continued pulling out items, one by one, allowing myself to go where the hum took me.
I was making a decent dent in the mess when I caught hold of a red, white, and blue t-shirt. How appropriate for the holiday weekend! I held the shirt in front of me and exclaimed, “I think this will fit me!” An affirmative hum rewarded me as I slid out of the shirt I had been wearing, and into the red, white, and blue one. I glanced in the full length mirror on the wall and admired the silhouette reflected back at me. Why didn’t they cut shirts like this anymore? In the mirror, I realized there was something written on the breast of the shirt, so I glanced down and read upside down: AMERICA 1776-1976.
“1976…” I started. “Oh! This is from the Bicentennial!” I looked in the mirror again and smiled at the thought of getting to wear this to an actual 4th of July celebration. Suddenly an idea hit me. I ran to my own closet and grabbed a pair of flared jeans and some old leather sandals.
I returned to the mirror and admired my outfit. I almost looked authentic.
“What do you think?” I said to the suitcase as I turned back and forth, showing all sides of my “new” outfit. The hum in my brain told me everything I needed to know. I was grinning ear to ear, partially because I felt a little silly and partially because it was really to play dress-up with my mother’s old things.
“Too bad I don’t have anywhere to go,” I said sadly.
The disappointment I felt was palpable. I turned abruptly, trying to dismiss the feelings that welled up in my chest, but ended up walking right into the chair the suitcase was sitting on, knocking it to the floor.
Instinctively, I reached for the suitcase to pick it up off the ground but the moment I touched it, I felt the floor lurch underneath me. The room began spinning, and I had the sensation that I was sinking. I clutched at the suitcase, bracing myself for whatever came next. I guess I had plans for the holiday weekend after all.
