The Magic Box

A plan to remove the husband magically.

         

The Mysterious Box

The doorbell rang; opening it, I was face-to-face with a deliveryman. He had a package under his left arm and an electric clipboard in his right hand, plus a forced smile.
I didn't order anything.
I signed the clipboard and took the package. Closing the door after the man was halfway down the sidewalk. While sitting on the sofa, I placed the package on the floor in front of me. I opened the package, simply wrapped in brown paper. A plain brown box was inside. My suspicions grew stronger with each passing moment. Pausing briefly, I lift the lid and look inside.
Can't this be possible?

The contents were familiar, but I couldn't understand why. Folding the lid enough for a complete view inside. I discovered a few things that were from my childhood. The Lone Ranger-emblazoned toy pistol. Comic books, Jacks, a red ball, a bandana, and a cowboy hat.
I couldn't recall the remaining items. Bending down, I retrieved the top comic book. It felt like something shoved me, or a vacuum pulled me, sending me tumbling forward. Rather than destroy the box, I discovered I was already inside.
In some way, the box had become a room-sized space. The size of the items was unchanged. Glancing upward, I saw the familiar ceiling of my living room. I was unable to explain the event and its cause. I approached the interior of the box, or room. I wasn't sure what I should call it. I decided the object's name was unimportant. My hand brushed against the inner wall. I was completely puzzled. Checking my watch, I saw it was the same as it had been that morning. The time became a light at the end of that tunnel. It was 4:20 PM. My Tammy will be arriving home in a few minutes. I expected her help. As the front door slammed shut, my faith grew stronger.
I waited inside, waiting for her to find me. I heard my name called out. This dragged on and on. She walked past the box twice. At one time, she even took a glance inside. I frantically waved my arms. She failed to see me. This lasted for at least an hour. At last, I sat down. The fear and stress had taken a physical and mental toll, leaving me completely exhausted. I guess I blacked out. Then the front door's chime woke me.
I wanted to know who was at the door. I was unsure at first, but then I realized whose voice it was. It was Tony, my best friend of many years and my golfing partner, the most responsible man I've ever known. I felt a surge of hope, my heart pounding. I had no doubt Tony would find the solution. It shouldn't take long. He was a certified genius. I convinced myself a solution was imminent. Ole Tony would come to my rescue again. I shifted my position repeatedly, hoping one of them would notice me. Hours felt like they passed as I searched. Then both of them came into my view. They were standing between the box and the sofa. I was in disbelief. They kissed and embraced. Shock left me speechless. I was aware Tony thought of himself as a ladies' man, but not with Tammy.
They stopped kissing, then smiled while looking straight at me. They were aware of my presence the entire time. Tammy stated,
"Oh darling, see how utterly adorable he looks down there, so tiny!"
          Tony's response was accompanied by a sneer directed at me.
          "Yes, darling. The magic box was, without a doubt, my best investment ever.
                   "Tony, what should we do with him now? He cannot remain trapped inside the box."
          Determination etched on his face, Tony added.
"Tammy, you know the plan we agreed on."
          "Yes, Tony, I suppose we need to proceed as planned, honey. Can you do me a favor and take out the trash? This box is a great starting point. We'll have an early trash collection tomorrow.
          I certainly do have the tape. Let's finish this unpleasant task and move on with our lives.
                   Before I could complain, Tony folded the lid over the top, then I heard the tape being applied. A moment later, I felt the box being moved, being carried out to the trash can. All night long, I devised a plan to get even with my wife and my best friend. I heard the garbage truck's air brakes singing as it stopped.
                   "I hate magic, especially magic boxes."



         

By Bert Haagenstad