The Green Locket:
The Start to a Few Odd Tales
written by: Brooke DiGiovanni
At the end of the funeral, my grandmother pulled me aside and asked, “Daniella, do you know anything about a green locket?”
“A green locket?” I barely heard the question. My eyes were still red and puffy from crying over the loss of my great aunt Josephine. I reached into the pocket of my black dress, but I’m all out of tissues.
“Yes, it’s very old, and I don’t think she ever wore it, but we need to find it.”
Josephine, or Joe as we all called her, was an eccentric and loving person who would often embark on crazy trips and bring back weird gifts for my cousins and me. We all noticed her growing just a little sicker each time we saw her, but I think most of us chose to ignore her worsening state. The last time I saw her, she was in a hospital bed, and yet, still smiling. I trace my mind, wondering why this locket was so important.
Did this have to do with Aunt Joe’s will?
“Mimi, the will reading is on Tuesday, and I’m pretty sure no one’s supposed to go through her things until then.”
My grandmother gave me a stern look and shook her head, “This will not be in the will, but it will complete a promise for her.”
I was still very confused, but if it was what Aunt Joe wanted, then there was no way I wasn’t going to help. I asked my parents if I could go home with Mimi that night, and quickly packed a bag. Mimi then took me through a Wendy’s drive-thru, and as I hungrily ate, she told me her plan. “She wasn’t there often, but she did own a small townhome close by.”
“Are we going to have to break in?” I ask jokingly.
“It’s no fortress of solitude, you’ll be fine.”
I expect Mimi to wink at me, but when her face remains serious, my mind immediately starts to list the worst: “Wait, but what if one of the neighbors sees me breaking in? Won’t they call the police?!”
“No, no. The whole cul-de-sac her house is in is empty. You’ll be just fine.”
“Okay?” unease began to drift over me.
My grandmother continued, “Now, chances are, she didn’t put it in a jewelry box, so you’ll have to think creatively. Look at it like one of those puzzle games you like so much.”
Why does this feel so weird? Mimi isn’t some criminal or anything, right? And why did she ask me?
I was a little embarrassed to realize that I hadn’t thought of that question till now. Out of everyone at the funeral, I doubt I was the only one who would’ve agreed to help. Plus, if the locket was so hidden, shouldn’t my grandmother have gone to my dad —the actual detective in the family? My apprehension was only worsening.
“Mimi?”
“Yes, dear?”
“If this locket is so important, how come Aunt Joe never wore it? She always wore a bunch of jewelry, why not that?”
“Well…” but we had reached the townhome, “I’ll explain later. Now here is a spare key. You go and look, and I’ll be right back.”
“You’re leaving me here?!”
“I’ll be back before you know it. Go on now.”
I reluctantly get out of the car and stand there, alone, holding my fries, as Grandma backs out of the driveway. In defiance, I wanted to stand there until she got back, but it was already dark, and I’ll admit to being a bit of a scaredy cat. I stick out my tongue at the car that is long gone and then head inside.
You’ve got to be kidding me.
Just as Aunt Joe brought back wild gifts for the family, she evidently kept a lot of stuff for herself. It was nearly impossible to walk from one room to the other. I was constantly tripping over things, abusing my pinky toe on what I could only assume were hidden bricks. The fact that the lights weren’t working only added to my frustration. I searched for what felt like hours. I was trying to go from the living room back into the kitchen when I tripped, yet again, but couldn’t catch myself in time. I fell into a pile of books, which then cascaded, knocking over a side table and launching tools and coffee mugs everywhere. One of which was a hammer that landed inches from my head. I shot up with adrenaline and fell backwards into the clothes-covered loveseat. I reached up and grabbed two handfuls of dark brown hair, an old habit from when I was just a toddler. I managed to stifle my scream. I leaned back and let my chest rise and fall a few times. If my brother Alex were there, he would’ve been on the ground rolling with laughter. I grit my teeth and begin counting. The odds, I breathed in, the evens, I breathed out. I let out a last, explosive breath, “OKAY! Okay. This is getting you nowhere. You will be crazy by the time Mimi gets back if you don’t. just. think. If this locket is so important, she wouldn’t want to lose it, right? And this place is fudging ridiculous, so…she would probably want to keep it close.”
I looked around the wasteland of tourism junk. Though there weren’t any foul smells, and it did at least seem like things were somewhat organized, it also looked like most of the stuff had been abandoned—neat piles covered with a slight film of dust.
Mimi said she hadn’t worn it, but… no, something that important wouldn’t be so forgotten, right? So not here then. Bedroom?
When I found the bedroom upstairs, I discovered that the hoarding situation there was just as bad as the rest of the house. However, I didn’t have to look long before something shiny caught my eye. It was a simple wooden chest tucked underneath a shoe rack. It didn’t look expensive or unique in any way, but when I got closer for a better look, I realized something. The chest was perfectly clean, as if recently disturbed. I held my breath and opened it. Inside were mostly family pictures, some in color, some in black and white. I push these aside until I find a small box.
“A puzzle box? Really, Aunt Joe?” It looked just like the ones she tortured me with for Christmas. I move a couple of the dials but eventually decide to grab the attempted murderer —the hammer —to help out. With the horrible box broken, I finally held up an ornate green locket. It had twisting vines etched into both sides and a jade gem in the center. It was stunning.
Why on earth did she never wear this?
I’m tempted to open it, but I can hear rummaging downstairs.
Man, Mimi, it took you long enough!
I get up and swipe the dust off of me. Then, as I slowly start to make my way towards the door, I feel my blood drain down to my feet.
A male voice below whispers, “Hey? Did you hear that?”
That’s not Mimi.
I stand as still as possible, now suddenly very aware of how loud the old floorboards squeak. The path in front of me is relatively clear, but the only places to go are either down the stairs or to what looked to be a bathroom on the right.
Did someone call the cops? Should I just wait until they leave?
“She was a hoarder,” a second, gruffer voice says, “it was probably some rats or something. You look over the living room, I’ll take the kitchen, then we’ll go upstairs. Remember, it’ll be the size of a softball, so it could be anywhere.”
So not the cops, but they knew Aunt Joe? And I was just down there, there’s nothing the size of a softball that would be interesting. What are they looking for?
I start to wonder if maybe they worked for Aunt Joe? Perhaps they were here to begin sorting the things from her will? By the state of the house, there was certainly enough to get done before Tuesday. But of course, this would also mean that I would likely get into a lot of trouble if I were caught sifting through Aunt Joe’s things before the will reading. I slowly take a few steps forward, and one of the floorboards lets out a tiny scream.
“You hear it that time?” The first voice snapped.
“Shit. Alright, go take care of it, but be quick.”
And that was when I heard the notable sound of a gun being loaded. I think I let out a small squeak as I rush toward the door. Crossing the threshold, I look over just long enough to see the silhouette of a man halfway up the steps already.
He sees me as well and shouts, “HEY! Don’t move!”
I do the opposite of that and duck into the bathroom, slamming the door behind me. My heart is ready to beat out of my chest. The lock is flimsy, but there is a linen closet next to the door. I open the door to the linen closet so that the closet door acts as a doorstop. It’s dark in the bathroom. The man on the other side is banging on the door, and I stare at it as I back up. The door breaks open, but is stopped by the closet door. Regardless, the man manages to push his arm inside and fires.
I dive into the tub as multiple gunshots rang through the air. Some hit the opposite wall, one hits the mirror, and one breaks through the glass of a small window. I’m curled up on my side in the tub, waiting. It’s quiet. I then hear some sort of shuffling on the other side of the door, like the man was trying to wiggle the closet door loose. I bite down hard on the side of my hand and squeeze my eyes shut.
“Fuck!” The man hits the door one last time.
“Everything good?” The gruff one calls up the stairs.
“I’d like to think so, but I can’t get the damn door open.”
My entire body is shaking, and there’s a ringing in my ears, but I slowly sit up and then peer over the side of the tub. The closet door was still holding, wedged nicely into the ornate handle of the bathroom door. I look behind me at the little window.
The gruff voice calls up again, “I got an idea, be right there.”
I turn to the window. I still can’t stop shaking as I slowly turn the latches.
Careful, careful, careful…
I can’t make a sound. The second they know I’m alive, they’ll stop taking their sweet time, and I’ll be out of time. There is a block of wood sitting on the back of the toilet. I grab this with one hand and then begin to slowly push up the window with the other. As gingerly as I can, I slip the wood into place. I let myself have the smallest sigh of relief before then stepping up onto the side of the tub. I nearly slip and fall over when I hear the sound of a chainsaw sputtering to life.
Oh God, oh God!
I give up on being quiet and begin scrambling through the window, and just as I begin to dangle out the other side, I remember that I’m two stories high. I begin to hyperventilate as I look down at the bushes below me. I can hear the chainsaw ripping the door apart behind me. I don’t have time to hesitate, but I manage to look over and see that the attached house has a patio roof.
This is not going to work, and I’m going to die.
But death from blunt force trauma had to be better than getting ripped to shreds by a chainsaw. So I finish squeezing through the window and thank the Lord that I used to love the monkey bars, as I’m now dangling outside. The patio roof isn’t far, but I still have to build up momentum in order to swing over there. I do my best to ignore the sounds of the bathroom door being kicked in as I make my swing.
I do manage to land on the roof, but I bounce with enough force that I can’t catch hold of anything and end up rolling off into a dense rose bush below. I lay there, struggling to catch my breath, covered in stinging cuts, and my ankle has an odd burning sensation, but my eyes are stained on the bathroom window. I can make out the shape of a human figure walking past it. I don’t move. I then watch as a head leans down, and then a face pokes out. With only the moon and a few far-off street lamps providing light, I can’t make out many details. But I can tell that he is looking straight down at the bushes I was too afraid to jump into. I don’t move. All it will take is one tilt of his head, and he’ll see me. But he ducks back inside.
I stayed where I was in the rose bush for what felt like a long time until I heard the two voices in the distance. I couldn’t make out what they were saying anymore, but I could just barely hear a car engine start up and then drive away. I look up at the sky. I could feel tears stinging the corners of my eyes.
Alex is right. I really am just a big scaredy cat.
My brother teased me about it constantly, and for once, the idea of him teasing me again felt warming. I roll out of the bush, wincing, but still too scared to cry out in pain. My ankle is throbbing. I manage to make it to the curb in front of the townhome before I’m forced to sit. Thankfully, I’m not made to wait long before my grandmother’s car pulls up.
“Daniella!” She yells as she comes over to me.
I finally let myself sob in her arms. She helps me into her car and drives us to her home without saying a word. A small part of me is still upset with her for abandoning me. However, more of me is too relieved to be reunited and speeding away from the townhouse. A sudden exhaustion takes over me, and I drift off to sleep in the passenger seat. An hour later, I’m lying on her couch with my ankle raised onto the armrest. I had showered with the aid of a folding chair, and my grandmother was now bringing me a cup of tea. I’m still tired, but numerous questions kept piercing my mind. When my grandmother had finally taken a seat beside me, I asked her, “Where did you go?”
She reaches for a little box sitting on the side table beside her, “I had to get this. It is what your Aunt Josephine left for you.”
She leans forward and hands it to me. I open it to find yet another puzzle box, but this one is much larger than the last. It’s roughly the size of a softball and solid metal. I stare at it, unsure of what to do.
“It’s different from the ones she gave you,” My grandmother says quietly. “This one can only be opened using a code.”
“Do you know what the code is?”
Her eyes look lost. “We can worry about that in the morning. I want you to rest now.”
I look back at the puzzle box. It’s a light silver color, with one large dial on one side and several smaller ones on the others. In the center of the main dial, I notice a tiny jade emerald.
“The locket!”
“Don’t worry about that,” Mimi says quickly. “We can try again another time-”
“No, I found it!”
“You-you did?”
“Yes! I put it in my dress pocket!”
Mimi then rushes to the hamper in the bathroom. As I watch her walk back, I note the relief in her eyes and smile. She hands me the locket, “You open it by pressing into the gem.”
I watch her sit back in her chair and then open the locket. I find a series of letters and numbers inside, and copy the combinations by turning the dials to match. The box clicks open. I first pull out a tiny golden dagger on a leather cord. There is a symbol engraved on the hilt, where I see a snake eating its own tail, and an old-fashioned quill pen in the center. I then pull out a folded piece of paper.
“It’s a letter,” I tell my grandmother.
She smiles, “Go on. Read it.”
“My dearest Dani,
I hope you are well when you read this letter. I’m sure by now, you have many questions, and I’m sure your grandmother will be able to answer all of them when they are in need of being answered. For now, just know that you have been chosen to be a part of something extraordinary. A syndicate built long ago for the sake of keeping an old evil at bay. Certain details are only permitted to be passed by spoken word, so I’m sorry for being so vague. You will learn everything soon enough. So here, I want you to know the most important thing: You are more clever than you give yourself credit for, and you are braver than you know. I know you will do amazing things, and I’m already so proud of you.
With all the love deep in my heart, your Aunt Josephine.”
Even while reading it out loud, I can hear her voice in my head. I smile as my eyes begin to water again, “Hey, Mimi?”
“Yes?”
“This explains absolutely nothing,” I laugh.
My grandmother chuckles a bit too and shakes her head, “Yes, well. She was good at that. But she’s also right. There is a lot I need to tell you, but not until the morning. I want you to get some rest, okay?”
That was the last thing I wanted. I wanted answers! To know what in the heck was going on, and why were they being so secretive, when they never hid anything from me before?
Or maybe they always have?
I let out a puff of air and pout, “In the morning, you’ll tell me everything?”
“Well… it’ll be a start to everything.”
Meanwhile, not too far away, two men sat in a car, preparing for the worst.
“I swear to you, I saw someone at the top of the steps-”
“Just be glad you didn’t, and the only disappointment we’ll be dealing him is that we couldn’t find the cube.” The older of the two said, lighting another cigarette.
The younger man folded his arms and looked out the window. Their wait was finally over when another car pulled up in front of them.
“I’ll go sweet-talk him,” the older man said. “Just stay here.”
The younger man watched as his partner got out and walked over. The other car’s windows were too tinted to reveal who was inside, and when the older man reached the passenger side, he kept his back to him. The younger man pretended to adjust his seating position in order to slyly lower his car window just a crack. The younger man couldn’t quite make out what his partner was saying. He leaned closer to the window, concentrating. This was when he noticed another car behind him in the side mirror, with the headlights off.
He jumped when a shot rang through the night. Looking forward again, the older man was now lying on the ground. The younger man quickly scrambled over to the driver’s seat, but before he could put the car in drive, someone opened the door, and a second shot echoed.
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