Read The Reading of the Will Page 1


The Reading of the Will

  By H. Jason Schulz

  Story idea by Mr. Barnhurst's 5th Grade Class

  Copyright © 2015 All Rights Reserved

  Have you ever been scared? I have, bad. I happened about three years ago. My name is Joe and this is what happened.

  I live on a farm. Always have. I was married years ago but my wife passed away before we had any kids and, well. I guess I just never found the time to go courting again. The animals need taken care of, the crops – before I knew it, I was 67 years old. I have family of course, and I see them now and again. My brother is a few years younger than I am and have an even younger sister, 58 years old I think.

  Any how, I was sitting on the porch all those years ago when I heard a helicopter getting louder and louder. I got up to see where it was and why it was so low. It flew right over my roof and landed in the field! Two men got out. They were wearing suits that flapped violently in the wind from the helicopter. They came right up to me and asked me my name. I told them and they insisted that I come with them. They said that I was the oldest living relative of Theodore Aries, and that as such, I was entitled to be present at the reading of his will.

  So there I was, wearing overalls instead of suits like all the other men as we waited to hear the contents of the will. But I didn't feel out of place. I was a farmer. Farmers had a uniform. It is overalls. There were about twenty people in that room, talking in low tones and waiting. A bald man walked in the room and sat behind a table. He opened up a folder and cleared his throat.

  “The last will and testament of Theodore Aries.” The man said.

  He read and read. This went to that person. That went to this person, and so on. Until he said my name outright. Joe Aries. I sat up and listened.

  ”As the oldest living relative you are awarded stewardship of Aries Manor, its lands, treasure, and responsibilities.” The bald man stated.

  Land? Treasure? I thought. Might be worth the trouble after all.

  The man finished and there was some grumbling through the group but in the end, there was no arguing with the law. It was done and the house, land and treasure was mine.

  I went home and thought about the big house and all that land – I decided to leave the farm and move there. After all It was mine now. I packed a few things and drove out to my new spread. What a spread! I drove near two miles from the front gate to the front door of my new house!

  I was met as I pulled up by several people all standing in a line. One man walked up and opened the door to my pickup.

  “Good evening sir.” He said.

  “Hi there. I replied. “Are you a neighbor?” I asked.

  “No sir.” He replied in a monotone voice. “We are the servants.”

  “Oh. I don't want servants.” I said.

  “We are not yours, we belong with the house.” he said.

  “Oh.” I replied. “I didn't know much about rich living. What's your name?”

  “I am called George. I run this household.” George said and clapped his hands. Two other men hurried forward and gathered my things and disappeared into the house. “Will you be taking over as head of house sir?”

  “I guess so.” I said as I looked around my new found fortune.

  “Very good sir. Do follow me. I will take you to your room.” George said and turned on his heel.

  I followed past the gaunt faces of the other house staff and into the house. It was gigantic! The entry way was bigger than my whole house back home! I followed George up the stairs, twisting and turning through corridor after corridor until finally he opened a large oak door that moaned in protest and revealed a luxurious bedroom.

  “Here you are sir.” George droned.

  I looked in side and saw that my bags were already there. I thanked George and stepped inside the room. He closed the door and I heard his footsteps fading away as he walked down the corridor.

  I looked around and saw a spacious room. A huge, four post bed dominated the room. There was even a sitting area with couch, chair and lounge next to the fireplace. Tapestries hung from the walls and a big chandelier was smack dab in the middle. I could see a door across the room so I walked over and opened the door. I was a bathroom.

  “I could get used to this.” I said to myself as I walked into the bathroom which was stocked with all the necessities.

  Just then I heard a noise like someone dropping a book onto a table. I walked out and looked around – no one. Then I saw it. A book on the floor. It was opened up and between the pages were many loose papers. I walked over to it and scooped it up. The book was a genealogy of my forefathers. I took the book to the couch and sat down to take a look. Removing the loose pages and setting them beside me I began thumbing through the book. I was filled with grandfathers and great grandfathers and great great grandfathers all the way back to the middle ages when Sir Aries was knighted by one of the King Johns.

  I set the book aside and looked at the papers. They were old, some seemed to be old leather sheets with writing that I couldn't read. Other sheets I could. They gave an account of one Headman Aires who stole treasure from a gypsy troop and received a curse for his trouble. The curse was on Headman's whole house forever with one condition. It said that if the head of the house did not return the money, then that head of house would be doomed to servitude for eternity but the word eternity had a line through it and written over the crossed out word were the words “until you turn to dust.” Subject to the will of the Gypsy.

  I heard a knock at the door instantly forgot all the I had just read. I stood up and walked over to open the door. It was George.

  “Someone to see you sir.” George said in his usual monotone, and somewhat annoyed voice. “Come with me sir.” And George set out down the corridor. I followed.

  He led me back to the front door where stood a girl scout holding a box of cookies just inside the open door.

  “Hello there.” I said brightly.

  “Hello.” She replied. She was small but sturdy looking. Just past her in the driveway was a small bike.

  “What's your name?” I asked.

  “Emilia.” She replied.

  “Did you ride your bike all the way here?” I asked.

  “I did. I brought you cookies.” She held out the box.

  “Oh. Thanks.” I said reaching out for the box.

  She snatched them away and said innocently, “That will be ten dollars please.”

  “Ten bucks?” I asked as I patted down the pockets of my overalls knowing that I had no cash on me.

  “Uh-um!” George cleared his throat and handed me a ten dollar bill.

  “Thanks! I'll pay ya back.” I said to George.

  “No need. It's your money now. Sir.” He droned.

  I turned back to the girl. “Here ya go.” I said as I exchanged the bill for the sweets.

  “Good doing business with you.” She said.

  Just then three men walked through the open door pushung Emilia inside and away from them. They wore turbans, white shirts with puffy sleeves and leather vests. One of the men looked at me and asked, “Do you have my treasure?”

  I took a step back. “Hang on, I don't have your treasure.”

  The man leaned closer and asked, “Will you give me the treasure or will you not?”

  “I don't know you mister. Now go or I'll call the sheriff!” I insisted. They did and I closed the door. Revealing Emilia who was standing behind it.

  “Treasure?” Emilia said, “I'm in... For a fee of course.”

  “What?” I asked. “No. You're going home.” I said.

  “Can't I just see the treasure?” She pleaded.

  I shook my head no and opened the door to shove her out. I would have too, but she
let out a scream! I looked at her in shock and saw that she was looking outside. I looked outside and saw a ZOMBIES! I pulled her away from the door, slammed and locked it! Suddenly I remembered the papers up in the bedroom! It was real?! What did zombies have to do with it?

  I turned to George and frantically asked, “Where is the treasure?”

  George replied in his usual monotone, “In the treasure room.” He pointed down a hallway.

  I took off in the direction George indicated, looking into room after room until I came across a locked door. This must be it! I thought as I pulled in vain on the locked door.

  “Step aside.” Emilia commanded as she pulled a lock picking set from her pocket.

  I looked at her in disbelief. As she made quick work of the lock. “Be prepared. That's my motto.” Emilie said.

  “That's the boy scout motto.” I corrected.

  She shrugged her shoulders and walked inside, I followed. There it was! A small treasure chest. I started toward it when suddenly it began to float away! I stopped in my tracks as I saw a ghost appear out of thin air!

  “Who are you?” I asked, not knowing what else to do.

  “I'm Headman and this is mine!” Headman said as he disappeared with the chest!

  I turned to find George in the doorway and gave him a quizzical look. “Yes, he does that.” George said, “You'll never find the treasure before...” He stopped talking and gestured toward the zombies.

  “What?” I barked.

  “The little girl can leave in safety, the zombies will not harm her...only you.” George said. “You are head of house.”

  “No chance for finding the treasure?” Emilie asked George.

  “None.” George replied.

  “Oh well. Bye!” Emilie said and she skipped away. From down the hall way they heard the front door open and Emilie shout, “The zombies are in the house! Bye!”

  I turned to George and asked, “What do I do?”

  “What would you like to do sir?” He replied.

  “Not die!!!” I retorted. I've never been so scared!

  “Technically, you will be un-dead sir.” George replied as the zombies pushed past him and came at me!

  Well. That's my tale. I'm a zombie now. I sleep in the ground and when the Gypsys call me up, I go looking for one of my kin who refused to return the treasure.

  The end

  What would you change in this story? H. Jason Schulz