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    Well, I never thought this would happen, but Dad died, and well, everything''s gotten quiet. All the paperwork is done, and well, I miss him. But life goes on, or that''s what I thought.


    Almost four years after he passed away, I got a letter in the mail looking for the executor of my dad''s estate. So, I called up the lawyer, sent him the letter. Next thing I know, my lawyer is calling me, telling me I''ve got a package at his office from my dad. So, I''m not thrilled, and I am wigged out.


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    I head down to the lawyer''s, and what I get is a notebook, a pickaxe, and a key. I''m talking a weird old key, but it''s got like eight teeth, and they go in different directions. It almost looks impossible to put into a lock because of how the directions the key looks. And a pickaxe, but not a big one, bigger than my hand, like for chipping stones.


    So, I head home, grab some booze on the way home, and go sit and read whatever my dad sent me. What I wasn''t expecting was the notebook had like only three pages written on it.