Uncle D.

My Uncle D. He was a different person, always kept to himself. We use to see him a lot when we were kids. We kind of thought he was the outlaw, he did what he wanted. We heard a lot of stories about him growing up from our dad. But he wouldn’t say much about him unless we asked, even then we knew he wasn’t telling us the entire story. As we got older Uncle D. disappeared from our lives. He was still around but turned into a recluse. He had no known family, or none we ever heard of. We had no Aunts or Cousins that we knew about. Although he was always invited and welcomed to family gatherings he was always absent. We just accepted him as he was.

My father called me up one day. He said Uncle D. had passed away. The neighbors hadn’t seen him in a while. It was the mailman that alerted the police. With no one around Uncle D. died alone and peaceful in his chair with the TV on, they said. Dad called me so we could clean out his house and put it up for sale. After a while of going through everything it was quite obvious he had no one at all in his life. There were no pictures, letters, or anything that would indicate he knew anyone. We broke into his strong box. There we found his papers to be cremated. He bought his own funeral, that’s something I never thought of. It was just a basic cremation with no instructions on what to do afterwards. After thinking about it as we went through everything, his cremation fit the way he lived. Everything was orderly and finished. No bills, no debt, no friends, family or even a pet. All his cloths were hung or put in the dresser, it was like he cleaned up so he could pass on. He had taken care of himself until his death, that was really cool.

As we cleaned out more things we came across another locked strongbox. It said Brink’s on it. This one we couldn’t open even when we beat it with a hammer, so we threw it in with the rest of the things we were taking home. At Uncle D.’s cremation, we watched as they did their duties. He was covered so were disconnected from what was actually going on. We took the bagged and boxed ashes to dad’s house. We sat in the garage talking. My father never talked about Uncle D. and I didn’t feel comfortable but I asked anyway, “what was inside that other locked box?” Dad looked up, he said he forgot about it. We dug it out from the pile of belongings sitting in the corner. We could NOT get this thing to open. There was no hinges, no gaps to pry open, even pounding it only made it sound like we were hitting concrete. We started drilling out the key lock. After breaking several drill bits we had it, but still couldn’t get the lid unlatched. It was my idea to run over it, this worked. It made a slight gap to get a saw-zal blade into. After an hour the box was open. In it we found a picture of a body, a newspaper clipping of body being found and a pill bottle with a note inside. The pill bottle was the first thing we opened. Inside the rolled up piece of paper was a stick. The note read, “Mark won’t need this anymore”. He won’t need the stick? After looking closer we saw it wasn’t a stick, it was a dried up finger. Now we are creeped out. The photo of the body looked like it was taken with an insta-matic camera. The grass was high around the figure, we could only make out brown hair and what looked like a lab coat. My dad was reading the newspaper clipping. He handed it to me. As I read it he said, “I knew he did it, but I just wasn’t sure”.

The date was March 3, 1992 and titled “Body of missing man found”. Dr Mark A. went missing for 6 months. …When they found him it appeared he died of natural causes. …he was found along a creek bank off a deer trail wearing a lab coat. A lab coat? …He had all his money and jewelry. If anyone has any clues please call crimestoppers at this number. I looked at dad and asked if Uncle D. did this. He said they grew up best friends. They could finish each others sentences, that’s how close they were. When they got out of school Uncle D. use to talk about Dr. Mark A. talking down to him in front of others. Uncle D. said he’d never talk to him again. When we heard he was coming into town we tried to get them together and that’s when Dr. Mark A. disappeared. We didn’t know if Uncle D. knew he was in town or not. We never knew what Uncle D. ever knew! He stayed to himself. He had nothing and no one and this is his best friends finger in a bottle wrapped in a note saying he won’t need it anymore and a picture of a body. He either died in complete peace or in complete torment. Either way he took this to his grave.