Her head still spinning from this discovery, Samantha didn't see the trunk until she tripped over it. She tumbled forward, landing headfirst in the crate of baby clothes. She sat up and then crawled back over to the trunk to examine it.
The trunk was made of metal covered in a leathery substance that reminded her of the snake in the church. On the top of the trunk was stamped the word, 'Samsonite.' A shiny bronze lock hung from the center of the chest to keep out prying eyes like Samantha's.
A strange calm descended over her as she considered the situation. If only she had a hairpin she could use to open the lock. She could go back up and look for one, but she didn't want to take the time. Miss Brigham could return from visiting the reverend at any moment.
She swept the candle around the basement, looking for something she could use. The cribs and mobiles and bassinettes wouldn't do any good. She needed something metal, something narrow and yet strong enough. Her eyes fell on the wheels of the buggies with their thin metal spokes.
Samantha crawled over to the nearest buggy and pried a wheel loose. The spokes had rusted from being down in the cellar, but they should do the trick. She had little difficulty snapping them off the wheel.
Then she returned to the trunk and jammed one of the spokes into the lock. She twisted it around, listening for the click that would signal success. Instead, she pulled out a warped and twisted piece of metal a minute later. She threw it aside and tried the next one with the same result.
She closed her eyes this time and once again felt a mysterious calm as she stuck the spoke into the lock. She twisted the piece of metal around for a few seconds and then heard a click followed by the pop of the trunk opening. I did it! she thought. In the next moment her joy turned to a cold shiver that ran the length of her body.
When she opened her eyes, she thought she was dreaming. Inside the trunk she saw row after row of books. They came in every shape, size, and color it seemed from some as thick as Miss Brigham's Bible to others as thin as her fingers.
She found not just books, but magazines as well. She opened one and saw illustrations like the pages she'd found at Prudence's cottage. Samantha ran a hand over the pictures of women in trousers and short-sleeved blouses as they glared defiantly at the camera. These women certainly didn't live in Eternity and they weren't savages.