The Heritage Paper by Derek Ciccone

all the code names to the real ones before she printed it. She said it would be a historical record that she’d release when the time is right. And like I told you, only Oma knows where the printed copy is or when she plans to release it.”
    “You can’t release something when you’re dead!” Veronica interrupted.
    “Everything she said has come true, so I’m not going to start doubting her now,” Maggie shot back.
    “She’s not here anymore—I’m sorry, I really am, but this charade is over, Maggie.”
    “If it’s such a charade then why are we going to Rhinebeck?”
    Good question. “Maybe I’ll turn the car around and we won’t.”
    Good cop Zach again interjected, “Do you remember any of the code names she dictated to you, Maggie?”
    “I told her to assign a letter like X or Y to each person, but you know Oma, she had to be complicated. So she used her own set of code names—some were short like James and John, but others were weird.”
    “Weird how?” Zach inquired.
    “Long ones like Thaddeus and James the Less, or something like that.”
    Zach and Youkelstein traded glances. Youkelstein began scribbling furiously on a piece of paper. He then held up his pad that read:
     
    1. Peter
    2. Andrew
    3. James
    4. John
    5. Philip
    6. Bartholomew
    7. Thomas
    8. James the Less
    9. Matthew
    10. Simon the Canaanite
    11. Judas
    12. Thaddeus
     
    “Were these the names?” Youkelstein asked, showing Maggie the pad.
    “How’d you know that?” she answered like he’d done a magic trick.
    “These are the names of the original Apostles, the followers of Jesus Christ. Bormann had told us that Himmler’s code name was Thomas, but I didn’t see the context back then.”
    Zach looked skeptical. “We can play the cryptology game all day, but what we really need to do is locate the memoir.”
    Then something hit Veronica. “It’s in our backyard. Maggie buried it this morning. In the time-capsule, you told Eddie that the memoir was in there.”
    “Let’s go back,” Zach said with eagerness in his voice.
    Youkelstein seconded.
    Maggie rolled her eyes, as if to indicate that she couldn’t believe the adults were of the same species as her. “Do you think Oma was that stupid? I didn’t bury an important historical record in our backyard like some dead bird. I just said that to throw people off the right track.”
    “To throw who off?” Veronica asked. “We were the only people there.”
    “Oma said I shouldn’t trust anyone, even those closest to me.”
    “Ellen said you shouldn’t trust us ? She was a Nazi for God-sake,” Veronica lashed, immediately regretting the comment.
    “Maybe so, but she was also right,”Maggie fought back. “Oma was trying to keep us safe. But knock yourself out … go dig up our backyard. And then we can go tear apart her old room at Sunshine Village, or maybe we can get a court order to dig up the grounds. I’m just a kid, you geniuses can figure it out.”
    Veronica did another slow burn. She remembered something she preached to Maggie and Jamie about if they didn’t have anything nice to say, not to say anything at all. And since nobody had anything remotely pleasant to communicate at the moment, no more words were uttered until they pulled into the small Victorian downtown of Rhinebeck.
    With a quick check of the rear-view mirror, Veronica noticed that Maggie was staring blankly ahead and gnawing on her lower lip. It was her pet move to indicate anxiety. Jamie pulled on his ear, Picasso batted his tail against the floor, and Maggie gnawed on her lip.
    “Mags, it’s not too late to turn around and go sell the painting on eBay. Hitler autographed … I’ll bet that would pay for a lot of double sprinkle ice cream cones at Carvel,” Veronica attempted to comfort.
    Maggie smiled. Not at another poor attempt at humor by her mother, but it was a smile of relief—knowing there might be another living organism on the planet who believed her, or at least had her