Metal Box

I couldn’t believe my ears. Princess Diana was dead. What was the news saying? How could she be dead? She was so young! Just as I was thinking about these, I dropped my bottle cap. When I came to pick it up, I realized that the cap had rolled down and moved one of my bathroom tiles. I bent down and slowly took off the tile. 

There was a deep opening behind that tile. And in there was a metal box covered with earth and dust. I cleaned the dust off the canister and opened it to reveal the greatest treasure a little boy could have. There were old toys of bike racers, cars, motorbikes, and an old black and white picture of a man. This treasure was almost 40 years old! 

At night while I was trying to sleep, I decided no matter what, I was bound to return this treasure that I had found. If I got emotional and found the owner, I would start meddling in other people’s lives. İf I don’t get emotional and can’t find the owner, too bad. 

I started my research by visiting our apartment manager. I asked if she knew any children in the fifties. She said that she knew many children she and her husband came here in 1964. I knew that she wasn’t that big of a help, but I continued listening. Her husband had stolen 50 million euros from the bank he was working for and had run away with his secretary. But one day, a man came knocking on her door and told her that her husband had died in a traffic accident. And her dog died because of the heavy burden. She had stuffed her dog and put him in front of her husband’s picture. I thought that was a bit weird, poor dog. She didn’t have any helpful information for me, but when I was about to leave her flat, she told me to visit the owner of the grocery downstairs, Collignon.

I asked him the same question. He told me that he was two years old in the fifties. How could he possibly remember? I wish he weren’t so mean. At last, he told me to see his mom because she took notes of everything to remember them, like an elephant.

I went to their house, and his mom finally gave me a name for the child who lived in my flat in the fifties. I found his name on the phone notebook for his address and started to look for him. My first and second tries were unsuccessful. I was getting anxious and decided to rest at a cafe. I reached into my pocket to pay for my coffee, but I found a piece of paper with an address and a man’s name written on it. 

The name was familiar to me. Then I realized that the name written on the paper was just a little different from the man I was searching for. When I came to my apartment, the man who lived on the 3rd floor told me that the name Collignon’s mother gave me was wrong, and it was missing a few letters. He told me to look for the man on the paper instead. 

I finally found him and a creative way to return the metal box. When he was walking down the street, I called the phone box in front of him from another place. He collectively got closer to the phone box and opened the metal box. When he recalled that he was the one who made the box, he started crying. I saw how he reacted and decided to continue to meddle ın other people’s lives.

 

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