2. HOUSE OF TREASURES

I wake up the following morning. I slept a full twelve hours. When I open my eyes, it takes me a while to realise where I am. For a moment I thought I was in my old apartment. My heart started racing until I realized that I am safe, away from all the things that use to chase me wherever I went.

I sit up on the bed. Maybe it would have been a good idea to sort the kitchen out first. I am sure there is absolutely nothing to eat in this house. It is also now too late to order anything that would help me now. I get up from the bed and make my way through the narrow pathways towards the staircase. As I take the stairs down, I listen to the creaking under my feet.

At the bottom of the staircase, I stand still for a few seconds, wondering which of the narrow pathways would lead to a kitchen. I decide to take the pathway to the left seeing that that is the side the dining room table is. Even though the table is buried under books and things it makes sense that the kitchen and the dining room table would be close to each other.

I smile as it turns out that my reasoning was correct. I do not know why I am so surprised to see that the kitchen also is stacked with things. I thought maybe the kitchen would be clutter free. It is not. Not at all. I walk the pathway that leads to the fridge. I imagine if the fridge was off for the last year, it would be rotten and a great worry to clean. I pull the door open slowly and peek inside with one eye open.

I am surprised when the little light inside the fridge shines brightly. The fridge is also fully stocked. On the first shelf is a small note.

"I knew you would only think of food once you get hungry. Have fun! – Charlie"

Oh, bless you, Charlie. I have no idea what I would have done for food had Charlie not stocked the fridge. I take out bread and butter and cold cuts and cheese. I pack them out on the only empty counter in the kitchen. I make myself a sandwich and pour myself a glass of orange juice.

I stand with my back against the counter while I eat, looking at the clutter in the kitchen. I have no idea where to start or what to do when I do start. I cannot just throw everything out. To the one side of the kitchen, I can make out a small table with four chairs under more stacks of things. That may be a good place to start cleaning. The small table is in front of a door that leads out of the kitchen. It could be a nice peaceful spot to enjoy my meals if it is clutter free and clean. I finish my meal and drink my juice. I place my glass and plate in the sink and make my way to the small kitchen table.

On the one side of the little square table are neatly stacked boxes. Each box is about the size of a pack of cards. On the other side of the table is a stack of books. Most of them look like recipe books.

I pick up one of the boxes and open it slowly. Inside the box is a small golden spoon. The handle of the spoon has a family crest on the end. The spoon itself has a stone inside. My first thought is that it is an absolutely useless spoon since you cannot use it for anything. I quickly realise that it is obviously a collector's item and not meant to be used at all.

As I go through the boxes, I find different spoons. Some are gold. Some are silver. Some have crests etched into the metal. Others have pictures of castles or other buildings covered with a glass dome at the end of the stem. Some of the spoons have etchings in the bowl of the spoon, engravings with words or otherwise pictures of leaves and so on.

Most of these spoons were marked with a sterling silver mark or a 9ct gold mark. Some of the spoons looked like they had real rubies on the stems or in the bowl of the spoons. I take a few of the spoons that I like the most and make my way through the maze of narrow pathways to the room where Charlie set up the computer for me.

I switch on the computer and make myself comfortable at the table. I start searching antique spoons when the computer has run through its setup. It doesn't take me too long to realise that these spoons are collectors' items. Most of them are very expensive if they can be authenticated. With expensive, I mean they are so expensive that if I am to sell them, I will be able to supplement my income to not having to find a way to generate an income while I live here as a recluse.

I find a website of an antique spoon collector. He has an enquiry page where you can submit pictures of your antique spoons for him to have a look at. If he is interested in what you have to offer, he would request the items to be appraised by a professional appraiser.

I take the phone Charlie left on the table out of the box. I know anything I can lay my hands on, I can use safely. Charlie would have had anything set up already to display my new identity. I take a few pictures with the phone as the website requests and upload the photos to the site.

I am still uploading the second set of photos when I hear a ping from the computer.

A chat box appeared on the screen.

"It seems that you have a rare find here" The chat box states. I know there is a person typing on the other side. I just have no idea who I am talking to.

"It seems so." I reply to the person.

"I would like to see the items please. Do you have more in your collection?" The person asks.

I look at the five spoons I placed on the table. There must be at least eighty more on the table in the kitchen. Collector's items are only of irreplaceable value to those interested in collecting the items. To me these spoons are just expensive spoons. I have no sentimental value attached to them. I would gladly sell them off and use the money to keep hiding here.

"I have a lot more. I would gladly send them to you to be appraised." I type the words thinking how bad it would be if this person is a fraud. I decide I will only send the five on the table in front of me as a testing phase of dealing with this person.

We make arrangements for the sending of the parcel to the collector. His name is Alexander Mc Arthur. He insists that every item should be insured. I take pictures of all the spoons I am sending in this shipment and catalogue everything perfectly. I book a courier company to collect the parcel from my home. I make a folder on the computer and store all the information in the folder.

When I am done, I wrap the five spoons in bubble wrap and place them in a small box. I tape the box closed and put it to one side for the company to collect tomorrow. It is just past noon when I am done with this.

I call Charlie on the phone he left me to thank him for the fully stocked fridge and everything he set up to make it easy for me to have contact with the outside world without having to actually go outside. I tell him about the spoon find and how I made contact with a collector who really wants to see the spoons.

"That is fantastic Stel…. Lubelle!" Charlie laughs. It will take him a while to learn to use my new name.

I tell him about the courier coming to pick up the parcel tomorrow.

"You know you are far enough away to be able to go anywhere outside, hey?" Charlie asks in his gentle tone.

"I know. I cannot tell you why I do not want to leave the house, Charlie. It is just that I don't want to. I think I am just tired of the outside world. I am happy to be left to my own thoughts all day. When I start missing people around me, I will find something to leave the house for again. Right now, I just want to stay inside without any outside interference." I tell Charlie without any irritation. If anyone else asked these questions I would easily tell them it is none of their business and walk away.

"I get it Belle! You had a hectic two years. You take all the me-time you need" You can hear the understanding in Charlie's voice.

"I plan to extend this me-time as long as possible" I laugh at Charlie.