The Suitcase

23 The Suitcase My mother sometimes rented out a room in our basement for extra money. One day, she told us that we were going to have a new tenant in the basement. Just then, the doorbell rang and my mother said, “ That must be him. " She let our new tenant in. He sat down and didn't say a word. He just nodded his head “ yes" or “ no" to my mother's questions. I was very suspicious of this old man. I didn't like him one bit. I noticed when he went downstairs with my mother to see the room, that all he had was a small black suitcase and a bag of clothes. Weeks passed, but he never said a word to me. That was fine because I had grown frightened of him from thinking about what might be in his mysterious suitcase. One day, I decided I had to find out what he kept in the case. After all, he could be a dangerous criminal! Maybe I would find a clue about the old man. When he left for the day, I sneaked into his room and looked for the suitcase. I couldn't find it anywhere. I was about to give up when I looked up and saw something on top of a high cupboard.

I got a chair and climbed up. There it was! I pulled it down and put it on the bed. I opened the top and screamed. It was an arm! Wait. . . it was a mechanical arm. " Can I help you?" boomed a voice from behind me. The old man looked at me and then smiled. " Isn't it a beauty?" he said. He told me that he had designed the arm for people who had lost an arm in accidents or in war. This was the one great thing he had accomplished in his life and he was very proud of it. The old man became my good friend. I hope one day to be able to design limbs for people just like he did. I know that would make him proud. You know, sometimes heroes are living right in your own house!