Part 3 — The False Window
My pry bar rested against the wall while I lit up the chamber behind the dead window frame. What the light found made me lower my voice, as you do in a church.
It was a small, carefully built display case, lined with felt. Inside were a folded flag, a row of medals, a photograph of a young man in uniform and a hand lettered card that read, For Daniel, who is always home.
The last owner had built the false window to protect a memorial to his son, a soldier lost overseas. He could not bear to take it down, and he could not bear to keep it on a shelf where visitors might ask. So he put it where he could see it from the street.
The shutters had always been there, framing a window that looked out on the road, and every neighbor who walked past thought it was just a house. He thought of it as a quiet place for his son to keep watch.
I called the man who hired me, and he drove over right away. He stood at the base of the ladder for a long time before saying, I bought this house at an estate sale. Nobody told me.
A false window is not always a lie; sometimes it is the only way a father could leave a light on.
We found the family through the church bulletin and a neighbor three doors down. The sons sister still lived in town, and she cried when she saw the case. Her father had passed two years earlier, and she had no idea where the medals had gone.
The new owner asked her, would you like it back? She answered, I would like it to stay here, if you will let it. She asked him to keep the window, and he agreed without a second thought.
So we rehung the shutters, restored the frame and replaced the siding with matching boards. Behind the glass pane, which I installed myself, the display stayed in place, with a small light on a timer.
The town heard about it, and on Memorial Day a group of veterans stopped by with flags. The owner and the sister stood together on the lawn, and the whole street was quiet for a minute.
I have hung many shutters since. I still pause at the ones that frame a window with no view, and I wonder who is keeping watch from the other side.