The Mystery Box

         Waves crested along the shore as Elly dug her toes into the sand. Cool water poured pools into the tiny pits her feet left behind. Her body was peace. Nothing could make her leave this spot. She knew the second she stood, time would un-pause.

         Crash. A set of waves collided with the sand.

         Crash. Here, the future stretched endlessly.

         Crash...BONK! A tough edge cracked Elly’s eyes open to find an ornate box had washed into her shin. The sides were carved in golden wood with sterling grey silver edges. Had a boat wrecked? Had a paddleboarder lost their bags? Elly looked around, but she was alone. Her hands danced over the box, fingers toying with the latch.

         “You sure you want to open that?” A voice plucked down in the sand beside her belonging to a man garbed in a wet suit.

         Elly recovered and found her voice. “I’m so sorry, is this yours?” She made a move to hand the man the box. He smiled warmly and shook his head.

         “No, no it’s yours if you want it.” He picked up a shell and tossed it into the sea. “Most people do.”

         “Who are you?” The stranger made her feel puzzlingly comfortable. He didn’t answer, instead plucking another shell from the sand and tossing it out to sea. Elly’s gaze fell back down to the box, the latch glistening in sunlight. “What’s inside?”

         The man shrugged. “It’s different for everyone, hard to say just meeting you.” He let out a kind chuckle when he caught Elly’s perplexed expression. For the first time, Elly saw his eyes, vast oceans swirling between storm and calm. “The box gives you what you want the most,” he said plainly, as if rehearsed a thousand times.

         Elly’s eyes grew wide. This was the strangest prank she’d ever encountered. The stranger pressed on, “I’ve seen it open with wealth, power, heirlooms of those long lost, and glimpses of things yet to come.” He flipped a shell with his palm. “Every opening a unique gift.”

         Elly tried to grasp the thought. “So, you’re saying if I wanted a million dollars and opened this thing, it’d be in there?” She shook the box as if to check.

         The stranger shook his head. “If you have to ask, then no. It grants the holder what they most desire, not what they believe they most desire. I’ve seen that box open too many times to a soul waiting for wealth. A few times, wealth has been in there, but more often than not, no.”

         “I find it hard to believe money would be a rare find,” Elly tried to sound light-hearted, but the words fell out heavy. “People are simple.”

         The stranger’s gaze pierced her soul. “You don’t believe that,” he said gently. Elly searched the man for answers. Ordinarily, she’d have left a man like him to mutter to the ocean, but there was a quality to him that felt familiar.

         She smiled, “No, I don’t. I’m sorry, who are you?”

         “The better question is who are you? Because if you don’t know, that will tell you.” He gestured to the box. The box was inexplicably light, lighter than the wood that comprised it. Elly doubted it could contain anything of substance, let alone her deepest desire.

         “You asked if I was sure I wanted to open it. Why wouldn’t I?”

         The stranger sighed, “Because once you do, you’ll know. Good or bad, you’ll know who you are. And you can’t ever go back.” He tossed another shell into an oncoming wave, an instant later forever lost.

         The box suddenly drew heavy. “You make it sound like it’s a bad thing.”

         He offered her another kind smile. “No, in fact, it’s the greatest. But sometimes we mistake blessings for burdens and let a good thing turn sour.” Before Elly could respond, he said, “The fact is that whatever lies inside is true and wonderful. How you receive it, though, that’s up to you.” He then pulled himself from the sand and began to walk away. Elly was lost in the box, the scales of decision bending left and right. She quickly stood and called after him.

         “And if I don’t open it? What then?”

         The stranger turned back and tossed a small object. She nearly lost her footing to catch it. “You can always toss it back.” She heard the words, but when she looked back, the stranger was gone. In her hand sat a small, white shell.

         Elly was alone, the shell in one hand and the box in the other. She cast her gaze out across the cresting waves. She knew it had to be the same ocean as before, yet the waves were foreign, each carrying a sense of home and dread. The longer she looked on, the slower the waves seemed to fall.

         An uneasy notion crested across her mind.

         She took a deep breath in, gripped tight, and tossed it out beyond the horizon.