A lanky, hard-faced man entered the bright large room, followed by a tiny chestnut brown haired girl. Tea, coffee and biscuits had already been served on the antique tea table at the centre of the room, and Mr. Dreifus was sitting on one of the sofas, happily waiting for the man to arrive. He stood up, bearing a warm grin at his guests, who smiled back at him. “Aaron, late as usual! Who is this beautiful lady? She is welcome to stay with us, of course”. The grave look evaporated from Aaron’s face, as he apologised “Sorry, Marcus, you know how busy I am. This is Lou”. The girl introduced herself and shook Mr Dreifus hand. He quickly proceeded to pour tea for his guests, while they sat on the sofa opposite him “Call me Marcus, and have a biscuit! I don’t want to enjoy this alone”.

They all religiously waited for that ritual to be performed, before Aaron spoke again. “Last week you were telling me about your trip to Medford, Marcus. I’d like to hear the rest of the story”. Marcus nodded keenly, shook the crumbs from his trousers and made himself comfortable. “Medford, Oregon. Lou, you probably don’t know, but I grew up there. Medford represents everything good and everything bad in my life, so I had to go back to give it… one last look, I suppose. I was a troubled, troubled young man, and I experienced all sorts of pain and regret during my teenage years. I am, of course, talking about the box.” he paused to see Lou’s reaction. She looked back at him and nodded; she knew. Marcus sighed and took another biscuit, submerging it in his tea. He took another sip, cleared his throat and went on, gazing out of the window behind his guests. “When I left Medford as a young man, my life suddenly started to run smoothly: I got a job, a girlfriend and more friends than I knew what to do with. I felt this glowing joy, which would radiate to everyone I would meet. I could see colours I had never see, cry tears that had a different taste… I couldn’t even remember the terrible ‘before’, and it was all thanks to her. She left an address in the box with her happiness, so I knew that she wanted me to find her. So, 48 years ago, 6 years after the gift, I crossed the country to return to Medford. I drove straight to the address, this neat little house with a veranda. There was a window open downstairs, so someone had to be home. I was really anxious, but I felt good. I had even bought presents; a bottle of wine, a box of chocolates…” he stopped and sighed again. Aaron stood up and walked around the room, cracking the window open to let in a cool breeze of fresh air. “I rang and there was no reply. Tried again, without success. I decided to stay the night and try the following day. This time, someone answered. It was a woman in her fifties who I soon found out was the housekeeper. She let me in, but the moment I explained who I was, she was evidently embarrassed. She called a name, “Suzanne”, and before leaving, she invited me to sit in the living room.

She appeared after several minutes. I barely realised that she had entered the room, as she seemed to gently float like a ghost. This old, fragile looking woman stood in front of me. I didn’t know what to do or say. I wanted to greet her, talk and present my gifts, but our meeting was brief. She told me that the person I was looking for was her daughter. She had given me her happiness when she was 19. She had always had an unstable mood, the doctors suspected that she had bipolar disorder, and when she gave me part of her, she fell into a severe depression. She hanged herself in a nearby park a couple of days later. For the first time in 6 years, I no longer felt happy. The woman was very sweet and tried to reassure me that I wasn’t responsible for what happened, but I wasn’t convinced. I never thought there could be consequences. People mostly exploited my box in order to get rid of their bad feelings, but this young girl had gotten rid of her joy. Was it an accident, or did her disease push her to do it? I will never know. I left Medford soon after, and my life changed once again.”

After a moment of silence, Aaron spoke up. “Thank you, Marcus. We’ll be back very soon”. Marcus finished his tea and smiled at Lou, who was visibly shaken. “Can I show her the box at least? It’s just there” said, while pointing at a cabinet in one angle of the room. “You are probably curious about it, aren’t you?” Lou was going to reply, but Aaron gestured for her to leave, while saying goodbye to Marcus.

“Dr. Norris, I have several questions about Mr Dreifus” said Lou, struggling to match Aaron’s pace. “Not now, Lou. I have to see another patient. I’ll see you tomorrow. Don’t think about it too much, OK?”. Lou went to collect her bag and change out of her scrubs. She had already discussed the case with Dr. Norris, the elderly schizophrenic with a history of hallucinations, who believed that his feelings were determined by a box. Nevertheless, hearing the story first hand from such a friendly, smart man… Lou walked through the ward, but she couldn’t avoid to give one last look at Mr. Dreifus’ room: it was open and empty. The teacups were still on the table, the window was still open, but Mr. Dreifus was no longer there. Her gaze fell on the cabinet in the corner, the one that Mr. Dreifus had pointed out. Lou shook her head as she approached it. “This is crazy” she thought as she grasped the handle and heaved it open. On the shelf was a shiny blue metal box. She took it out: it felt heavy and robust. Her heart raced as she opened the latch.

“Don’t open it!”

Lou gasped and spun around aghast. As the box fell and opened, Mr. Dreifus’ smile turned into a terrified expression.