After a record time of 12 hours on the road they arrived safely, although exhausted, even though the truck did the majority of the work. Upon reaching the picturesque city of San Carlos de Bariloche, Julio stared in wonder at the Swiss alpine like architecture before him. The majority of buildings and houses depicted a traditional European style construction made from wood and stone accompanied by cute little shops peppered throughout both sides of most streets; a staple inherited from Argentine elites who had emigrated from Germany, Austria and Italy as early as the 1930's.
Once the truck was parked, both friends got out to stretch their legs and take in the view. Vincent arranged for his friend to do some shopping while he went to see the woman about the antiques, and without missing a beat each friend took a backpack and walked in separate and opposite directions.
Ms. Reichenbach's house was only a few blocks north of the main plaza square, taking Vincent less than fifteen minutes to reach the colonial style two-storied building she had so candidly described. He rang the only visible doorbell on the far side of the gate and waited a few minutes until someone came out of a window and yelled something unintelligible before retreating back inside.
After several more minutes of waiting under a blazing sun, Ms. Reichenbach's head poked out of the building's door frame as to quickly verify who had rang the bell. With the front door now open, she quickly realized it was the guest she'd been expecting and made her way towards the outside gate, shuffling her loafers as she walked. Vincent immediately tried reading the host. The woman had long graying hair that reached down to her waist, accompanied by a genuine sense of being that only a member of the counterculture would proudly display.
"Well good afternoon Mr. Baroni!"
"I didn't think you would make it here so quickly."
Since she made no clear attempt to allow him to kiss her cheek, as most women were accustomed to be greeted, he took her for an American, probably from a traditional upbringing and less likely to adhere to the common Latin approach.
"Good afternoon to you and thank you for receiving me Ms. Reichenbach. Also, you can just call me Vincent, I really don't mind."
"I wasn't expecting you until much later today; otherwise, I would have cleaned up a bit." Said the woman as she produced a chuckle and brushed breadcrumbs from her blouse with one hand while she closed the main gate with the other.
"Well, to be fair, I didn't think the drive here would be so quick either. We hardly encountered any issues, except for a herd of cows we had to wait for nearly an hour until they all made it across the road. In fact, I'm always blown away by how beautiful our country is and how underappreciated it's become to the younger generations." Said Vincent trying to appear polite but wondered if he sounded pompous instead.
"I very much agree. If only they had your point of view, Mr. Baroni. …uhm excuse me, I meant Mr. …Vincent." Said the woman, hesitant in her approach.
"...But please come inside, I was just about to boil some water, may I offer you a cup of tea or coffee instead?" She offered instinctively.
"Yes, thank you. Anything with caffeine would be perfect." He replied, producing a smile as he followed her up three flights of stairs that lead straight to a large European style kitchen. No one else seemed to live in that whole house and figured her family must have left her the entire property to herself.
She held a tray with an assortment of freshly baked goods and offered them to her guest.
"These were just made this morning. Do you prefer sweet or savory?" Said the woman as she placed the tray on the kitchen counter and shifted to her side to turn on the electric kettle and reach inside the coverts in search of tea and coffee grounds.
"On second thought, you should try both, they are equally exquisite."
Vincent did not hesitate and took one from the tray without knowing what kind it was, although after one bite instantly revealed a soft stringy cheese that oozed as he ate, and waited until the water boiled before he would indulge in another one of those delights.
As a way of breaking the ice he enquired a little about her family last name and how distinguished it was.
"Well actually, it belonged to my late husband's. His family last name was from Austria if I'm not mistaken. This in part is the reason why I'm planning to sell this property and finally return to my place of birth." Said the woman as she turned and poured scalding water into an empty cup.
"Oh, I see. And where do you plan on returning to, if you don't mind me asking?" Asked Vincent, placing a fresh bag of Earl Grey tea in his cup.
"America! My mother's side is originally from Michigan but they moved here many years ago when my father was a diplomat. I met my husband in college and lived here most of my married life but always had the desire to go back to my American roots." Said the woman, her lips producing half a smile from the thought of soon being back in her native land.
"Well, I'm glad that you are now able to do so. It must feel such a relief to be able to do just that. I too just got back from being away and there isn't anything like being at home." Replied Vincent, lost in thought of his own return while stirring a spoonful of sugar into his cup of tea.
"Now that you mention it, yes it's a relief that I cherish more every day. Also, by purchasing that old trunk, you will save me from having to deal with it. Besides, it's so heavy and full of god knows what." Said the woman as she mumbled to herself before realizing she had been rambling more than she wanted to.
"Which also reminds me, you probably want to see it, don't you?"
"Please, make yourself at home. Feel free to bring your tea and just follow me. The attic is just up another couple flights of stairs." Said Ms. Reichenbach half-jokingly, letting out a few chuckles in between.
She took Vincent to the attic, a dark room chock full of old furniture and several clumps of dust bunnies as big as a shoe. A 60-watt incandescent light bulb hung from the ceiling but barely lit up the room, allowing Vincent to understand why the original photos she had sent were of such poor quality.
"This is it. As you can see, well sort of…it is a very old wooden trunk…they don't quite make them like these anymore I don't think. My husband's father brought it with him when they moved here. I do believe they brought it by ship, which is why I think it is also so bulky and heavy."
Vincent squinted due to the poor lighting in the room.
"Here, let me bring you a flashlight."
"Also, please feel free to grab one of those chairs if you like, I do apologize if they are dirty, none of the maids have stepped foot in this room in years." Said the woman, pointing to a pile of wooden chairs in the back as she stepped backwards and headed towards the stairs.
"Thank you, I might do just that." He said, barely containing the growing excitement since he first arrived at the house.
Vincent walked around and inspected the trunk, trying to gauge its actual worth now that he was next to it. It almost seemed mahogany in color with some streaks of white oak. He was almost certain its woodworking finish was French and noticed the varnish was basically intact, except for some damage to the bottom corners, all of them swollen and soft, probably due to having been in contact with water at some point.
The lock seemed to be made out of brass, although it was badly oxidized. Vincent grabbed one of the many chairs that were stacked sideways one on top of each other and sat down without even wiping the dust that had gathered over time. He tried lifting the trunk from its side but struggled due to its weight, which confirmed his suspicions and wondered how the movers would even manage to lift it without having to remove some of its contents. He thought of his options and decided to remove some of the items in order to guarantee the preservation of the majority of the valuables, and that way, the movers he hired could handle a lighter load.
"This house has way too many stairs!" The woman groaned, moving slowly, catching her breath as she spoke.
She returned carrying a flashlight in her right hand, while using her left to hold onto the railing for support.
"I don't remember asking your source of interest in these items, did I?" Asked the woman curiously, handing him the device.
"Well, I'm a historian of sorts who also dabbles in antiques and several items that defined their era. Those times were extremely important and I've always had an affinity for war related paraphernalia." Replied Vincent without hesitation, focused on the task at hand.
"Besides, I also really like the trunk and thought it would make a great gift for my grandfather who also came to Argentina by steamboat, all the way from Italy." Added Vincent figuring that a little bit of misdirection would prevent her from digging any further.
"I see. Well, I'm sure he is very lucky to have you as a grandson."
"This is a bit awkward but would you actually mind if I stepped out for a little bit while you stayed to look around? I need to run a quick errand and it is just up the street."
"Of course, don't worry about me. I'm sure the contents will keep me busy until you return." Replied Vincent, confident he could rummage in peace while she was gone.
"If you would like more tea or coffee, please feel free to grab some. I should return shortly." Said the woman as she took a few steps back and once again headed towards the stairs.
Little did he know the woman had gone out to use a public phone and deliver a final message of farewell, a crude gesture only she would enjoy.
"I have sent you a parting gift that you will soon receive. It's too bad I had to involve your grandson in all of this, but such is life, filled with irony."
On the other end of the line, a confused, raspy and agitated voice uttered incomprehensible words, desperate attempts at pleading, begging her to stop.