No secret is safe from twelve-year-old Chantey. It doesn’t matter if it’s a rumor at school or a Christmas gift stashed in the basement, if you have anything to hide, she’ll find out. The girl is relentless. She’ll stop at nothing to get to the truth. Chantey was Columbo, Matlock, and Sherlock Holmes all wrapped up into one. It wasn’t until the summer of 83 that she learned a lesson in sticking her nose where doesn’t belong. Well, sort of.   

           The Tatum’s arrived at the home of the patriarch of the family, Grandma Mabel Tatum, on a humid Saturday afternoon in August. Grandma eagerly stood out front to greet them with her trusty sidekick, Duchess the German Sheppard next to her. She was a feisty little black woman with rich dark skin that was smooth like a Butterfinger, big brown eyes that could stare a hole through your soul, and pearly white teeth that could light a dark room. Grandma lived alone after grandpa died five years ago. Refusing to leave and live with her son. She stayed on her old farm with just Duchess to keep her company, and her double barrel shot gun to protect her. So when the family came to visit her for the summer, she more excited than a kid on Christmas morning. 

Chantey and her family got out the car after a six-hour drive. As they stretched, the Louisiana sun began to instantly pull the sweat from their sore bodies. With her lip poked out, Chantey wiped the sweat from her caramel skin as she strolled across the gravel driveway. A fly landed on her round nose and she swatted it away in disgust. Her hazel eyes looked in every direction, and there was nothing but farmland as far as the eye could see. The gusty winds almost blew her skinny frame over. Leaves rustling and grasshoppers rubbing their legs were the only sounds on the vast plains. A massive difference from her home in Houston. She wished she was there now, playing with her friends and riding her bike until the street lights came on. Rolling her eyes, Chantey’s shoulders slumped as she went to greet her grandma.

Ahead of her was her mother Janet. Janet was a beautiful mahogany skinned woman, with legs for days. And she never missed a chance to show them off. Wearing tight shorts, flip-flops, and a tank top. Then there was her father Tyrone. Even though Tyrone grew up on this farm, he was anything but a country boy. The man wore tailored suits, drunk fine wine, and collected rare art. Even on a casual trip home, he’s wearing Dockers, a Polo shirt, and leather deck shoes. And finally, there was her younger brother, Isiah. Isiah was the kind of little bother that could take a bad situation and make it worst. He was the main reason Chantey developed her detective skills. When something of hers was missing, she had to find out where did he put it, or how did he break it.

“Hey y’all! Come give grandma a hug,” grandma said walking over and giving Janet a hug first. Then she gave Isaiah a kiss on the cheek. “Look at my little man growing up so fast. You look just like your momma. How old are you now?”

Isaiah wiped the lipstick of his chubby cheek and with a blank expression said, “I’m ten-years-old Grandma.”

While they were exchanging pleasantries, Duchess took off and ran toward Chantey. The huge dog with a beautiful brown coat, stood on her hind legs and licked Chantey all over her face. Trying to push her away, Chantey yelled out, “Can somebody get Cujo off of me!”

Grandma laughed and then whistled loudly. Duchess stopped immediately, ran back to grandma, and sat down next to her. “Sorry about the baby. But you know how much Duchess loves you. She’s just excited to see you.”

Frustrated, Chantey wiped the dog’s slobber from her face and mumbled real softly, “I’ll be excited to see her, behind a fence.”

“Come on over a give grandma a hug,” she said with her arms opened wide. She squeezed Chantey then stood back and looked her up and down. “What are you wearing little girl?”

Chantey looked down at her sneakers, baggy jeans, t-shirts, and then she adjusted the Dallas Cowboys hat that was on her head. She fought off a frown as she said, “Clothes.”

Grandma turned to Janet and said, “Isn’t she a little old to be dressed like a tomboy? She should be in a cute sundress and some sandals.”

Janet puckered her lips and replied, “Momma, please don’t start. You know how she likes to dress. Who’s it hurting?”

Grandma waived her hand dismissively and started scanning over Chantey’s hair. She touched her ponytail. “Your hair is nappy too. It should be straightened out with some nice bangs. I still have my old hot comb and some Royal Crown grease in the back. I can fix that with no problem.”

Fearing the hot comb, Chantey stood behind her mom, clutching her hips. Grandma just shook her head as she turned and lead the way to the house with Duchess close behind. Chantey sighed and thought to herself, this is going to be a long week.

They climbed the steps of the front porch to the gentle sound of wind chimes. A couple of rocking chairs and a table with a vase and flowers decorated the front porch. The house was ancient. The old wood planks creaked with every step as they walked across the porch. Grandma pushed opened the door, and the first thing to greet them when they walked into the house was the sumptuous smell of food simmering in the kitchen.

“Momma, is that what I think it is?” Tyrone asked as his nose lead him into the kitchen.

Grandma smiled. “Yes it is. Oxtails, greens, candied yams, and corn on the cob fresh from the fields. All my son’s favorites.”

Tyrone gave his momma a big kiss on the cheek. 

“Only thing I got to do now is finish making the cake,” Grandma said before looking at Chantey. “You can help me.”

Chantey reluctantly nodded as she was thinking to herself, there nothing else to do, and maybe she’ll forget about straightening my hair.

“I got everything setup for y’all. Fresh linen and towels on the beds,” Grandma said pointing to the back rooms. “Y’all get settled in, while me and Teytey make the cake and finish diner.”

“Okay momma,” Tyrone said scooping up all the bags and leading Janet and Isiah to the back bedrooms.

Grandma looked at Chantey and asked, “What’s your favorite cake?”

Chantey thought about it for a second. “Caramel cake.”

“That’s what I thought. And that’s what we’re going to make,” she said with a grin as she reached into the cabinet for a mixing bowl. Then she went into the fridge for eggs, buttermilk and butter. “Do me a favor and get me the baking powder and vanilla extract out the pantry.”

Chantey opened the pantry door and stepped inside. Her eyes scanned the well-organized shelves looking for the ingredients and whatever else caught her attention. The vanilla extract and baking powder were eye level. The first thing she saw when she opened the door. Grabbing it, she continued to snoop. She wanted to see what other treasures were in there. She saw a box on the bottom shelf. Looking over her shoulder to see if grandma was coming, she opened the box. It was a bunch of old recipes written down on spiral notebooks. Quickly closing it, she put it back exactly like she found it. The next shelf was full of mason jars. She was picking each one up, looking to see what’s inside. One was Strawberry preserves. Another one was peaches. One was pickles, her favorite snack. She arranged them as she found them as well. Her eyes continued to scan up the shelves until she saw the very top shelf had an old wooden box with a pad lock on it.

“Teytey! Where’s my ingredients at?” Grandma yelled.

“Here you go Grandma,” Chantey said rushing out the pantry and placing the stuff on the counter. “Grandma, what’s in that box on the top of the cabinet?”

“Nun your business,” she said, then she motioned for Chantey to come over. “Now pay attention. I’m turn you into a young lady if it kills me. Before you leave, you gonna learn how to cook and clean.”

Grandma started showing her how to make the cake, but all Chantey could think about was what was inside that box. Grandma’s words sounded like the adults on Charlie Brown, blah, blah, blah. All through the baking, cooking, setting the table, eating dinner and doing the dishes, the only thing that was on Chantey’s mind, was how she was going to get into that box.

After dinner, her mom and dad went into their room and took turns taking showers. Isiah was in the back yard playing on the swing. Chantey was sitting on the couch watching the only television in the house. And the only thing on, was a rerun of Gilligan’s Island. Chantey watched closely as Grandma gave Duchess some dog treats and placed them on the counter. Then grandma went into the pantry, pulled a key out of her housecoat, and unlocked that box on the top of the shelf. Chantey creeped over to see what she was getting out. She pulled out an old Folger’s can and another small tin can. Then grandma strolled to the front door and went outside. Chantey creeped to the window and peaked through the curtains. She was dying to see what grandma had in that can.

“Teytey,” her mother called out, walking into the living room, “It’s time for you to take a bath and get ready for bed.”

“But momma…,” Chantey said with a frown and her head cocked to the side.

“Little girl, you better get in that tub. Right now,” Janet commanded as she pointed to the bathroom.

“Yes, ma’am,” Chantey’s head lowered as she strolled into the bathroom. She took a bath in record time and put on her pajamas. Soon as she finished, she sprinted like Carl Lewis to the front porch to find grandma. But grandma had already come back in the house. Now she was in her room with the door close and Duchess standing guard. Chantey snuck over to the pantry and peeped inside. The box was locked again. She looked on the shelf and saw a can of Folgers coffee. Opening it up, she could see the can was full. The wheels in her little head was spinning. Chantey uttered softly, “Grandma is hiding something. And I’m going to find out what it is.”

Janet walked into the living room in a robe and slippers. She put her hands on her hips and said, “Alright it’s time to go to bed you two.”  

“Momma, can we stay up and watch TV? Please,” Chantey and Isiah begged.

“Maybe tomorrow. But it’s been a long day. Y’all need to get some rest. Come on,” she said as she clapped as an incentive to get them both moving.

Chantey climbed in one twin bed, as Isiah hopped into the other. Janet flipped the light switch and said, “Sweet dreams.”

Chantey laid in bed staring at the ceiling for the next hour. Her mind wondered what was in that box. What is she hiding? She had a wild imagination. Probably from watching her favorite shows like the Twilight Zone and the Outer Limits. She thought all kinds of crazy things, like maybe there’s a genie in there. And she can rub it and make a wish, and get whatever she wants. Or maybe there’s gold in there. And we could be rich. Then it came to her. Grandma lives out here all alone. What if a stranger tried to break in and she shot him. And to hide the evidence, she had to him cut him into small pieces. That’s it. She peeled off the sheets and went to Isiah’s bed.  

“Isiah,” Chantey whispered shaking him violently, “Wake up.”

Isiah rolled over and opened his eyes, “What?”

“Grandma has a secret box with a lock on it in her pantry.”

“So what.”

“So, I think it might be a can with fingers from a dead man in there. We got to open it up. Help me,” she asked ripping of his sheets.

“The last time I helped you, I couldn’t sit down for a week. No thanks,” Isiah said pulling the sheets back up.

“Come on. Please. I’ll wash the dishes all week when we get back home.”

Isiah pulled the sheets over his head and curled into a ball.

“Fine, I’ll do it without you.”

In her nightgown with no socks on, Chantey floated over to the bedroom door. She slowly twisted the doorknob and gradually pushed it opened so it wouldn’t squeak. Then she tip-toed over to her parent’s room and put her ear on the door. Chantey could hear them snoring. With a sneaky smirk, she creeped into the living room like a cat burglar. It was so quiet; you could hear a rat piss on cotton. So she was careful not to make a sound. All the lights were out. But lucky for her, there was a full moon shining through the cracked curtains. As she got closer to grandma’s room, she realized she had a problem.

“Dang. Duchess is still in front of the door,” Chantey whispered. “I need to get in there and get grandma’s key.”

Thinking about it for a minute. She looked around and saw Duchess’ dog treats on the kitchen counter. Remembering an episode of Scooby Doo, Chantey grabbed the treats from the counter and started breaking them into little pieces. Then starting from the back door, she placed the treats like a trail of bread crumbs along the hardwood floors. Hunched over, she leaned close to the dog and whispered in her sweet little girl voice, “Duchess.”

Duchess head slowly raised as she yawned.

Chantey had a treat in her hand, waiving it in front of the dog’s face saying, “Here girl. Here girl.”

When Duchess came to retrieve the treat, Chantey tossed the piece toward the beginning of the trail she set. Duchess trotted over and Chantey carefully opened the bedroom door to find grandma dead asleep. She tip-toed across the floor and to her nightstand. The keys were sitting there next to the clock. She picked up the keys and they jingled a little, causing grandma to roll over in bed. Chantey held her breathe. Her little heart was racing and she stood still like she was playing a game of freeze tag. As grandma settled back in, Chantey quickly exited the room and closed the door. Clutching her chest, she breathed a sigh of relief. She looked over at Duchess who was still eating the bits of dog treats.  

Making her way into the kitchen, Chantey opened the pantry door and stared at that secret box. Realizing it was just out of her reach, she grabbed one of the stools from the kitchen counter and placed it in position. Stepping on the stool, she tried different keys until she found the one that fit the lock. Opening the door, she grabbed the can and held it like a prize trophy. She was so nervous from sneaking into her grandma’s room, she didn’t realize how sweaty the bottom of her feet were as she tried to step down from the stool. The stool began to wobble underneath her, swaying back and forth until it finally tipped over. She fell to the floor and the contents of the can spilled all over her. Duchess started barking loudly waking up the whole house. Tyrone and Janet came running into the kitchen and flipping on the lights.

“What happened?” Tyrone asked with a confused look on his face as he saw his daughter lying on her back. Her nightgown covered in a nasty, slimy, black liquid.

Grandma walked in the kitchen, saw the scene, and laughed her ass off as she said, “Looks like Teytey found my Copenhagen snuff and spit jar.”

Chantey sat up with disappointment. Her ego was more bruised than her bottom as she watched her family getting a laugh at her expense. She couldn’t believe how wrong she was. She admitted to herself for the first time that her imagination was out of control. She rose to her feet wiping her dress off in frustration. Then Chantey noticed Grandma scurrying over to close up the box, like she had something to hide. But before she could, Chantey’s keen eyes had noticed that the secret box had moved when she fell, and she saw another secret compartment behind it. She thought to herself, I knew it.  

                                   The end