I came home early from my business trip to surprise my husband. But instead of a warm welcome, I found him in the garden, drenched in sweat and burying a large black egg. He wouldn’t tell me the truth, so I dug deeper myself. What I found sent my heart racing.
I hadn’t slept in days. The Chicago business conference had dragged on, each presentation blending into the next until I couldn’t take it anymore. Three years of marriage, and lately, Ben and I had been like ships passing in the night, him with his investment banking and me with my consulting work. When my last meeting finished early, I decided to surprise him with an early return.
A smiling woman holding a cup of coffee | Source: Midjourney
“You’re really skipping the closing ceremony?” my colleague Linda asked, watching me pack my laptop. “The VP’s giving the keynote. Could be good for your promotion.”
I zipped my bag with finality. “For once, my marriage comes first. Ben and I haven’t had a real conversation in weeks.”
“Regina, putting love before career?” she smiled. “Must be serious.”
“It is.” I checked my phone, calculating times. “If I leave now, I can catch the 6 p.m. flight and surprise my hubby.”
A cheerful woman holding her phone | Source: Midjourney
“Go get your man,” Linda winked. “But text me when you land. These surprise returns don’t always go as planned.”
If only she knew how right she’d be.
The setting sun cast long shadows across our front lawn as I wearily pulled into the driveway after a long, exhausting flight. My hands trembled slightly as I killed the engine. The house stood quiet, warm lights glowing behind drawn curtains.
Something felt off the moment I stepped inside. The house was eerily quiet. Through the kitchen window, I could see dirty dishes in the sink — so unlike my usually meticulous husband.
A startled woman in the kitchen | Source: Midjourney
“Ben?” I called softly, letting myself in. No answer.
The house felt different somehow. Mail was scattered across the coffee table, including several official-looking envelopes marked “URGENT.”
A half-empty cup of coffee with a lipstick-like ring of dried coffee around its rim sat beside Ben’s laptop.
A cup of coffee near a laptop on a table | Source: Midjourney
Assuming he was holed up in his office as usual, I decided to check on my garden first. The tomatoes should have ripened by now, and tending to them would help me unwind after the flight.
But as I approached the garden doors and stepped into the backyard, I FROZE.
Ben stood in the middle of our vegetable garden, between the tomato plants he’d been so proud of just weeks ago. His shirt was stained dark with sweat and his sleeves rolled up as he dug into the earth like a man possessed.
But it wasn’t his frantic movements that made my blood run cold. It was the LARGE, OBSIDIAN-BLACK EGG sitting beside him.
A man holding a large black egg | Source: Midjourney
The thing was enormous, at least two feet tall, its surface gleaming like polished glass under the evening light. As I watched, frozen, Ben kept glancing at it between shovel loads, his movements growing more desperate.
“Just a little deeper,” I heard him mutter. “Has to be deep enough to bury this thing.”
My hand flew to my mouth. Was this really happening? I blinked hard, convinced I was hallucinating from travel exhaustion. But the scene remained unchanged — my husband, digging what looked like a grave for some alien artifact in our backyard.
“Ben?” I called out softly, careful not to startle him.
A woman gaping in shock | Source: Midjourney
He whirled around, shovel clattering against something metal in the hole. His face, usually so composed, was pale with panic. A streak of dirt ran across his cheek, and I noticed his hands were shaking.
“REGINA?” He shrieked, his voice trembling and loud. “WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?”
“I came home early to surprise you.” I took a step closer, gravel crunching under my feet. The egg seemed to pulse in the lamplight, drawing my eyes. “Though I think I’m the one who’s surprised. What is THAT thing?”
“It’s NOTHING.” His words came too fast, too sharp. He moved to stand between me and the egg. “Reggie, just go inside, honey. You shouldn’t be here.”
A startled man holding a big black egg | Source: Midjourney
“Nothing? Ben, I don’t think that’s ‘NOTHING.’ What is it? What’s going on?”
“I’ll explain later. Please go inside.”
“Later?” I gestured at the hole he’d been digging. “You’re burying something that looks like it came from a sci-fi movie in our garden at sunset, and you want me to wait for an explanation?”
Ben ran his fingers through his hair, leaving streaks of dirt across his forehead. His eyes darted between me and the street as if expecting someone.
“Please, Regina. Trust me on this. I’m just doing what needs to be done. I’m handling it.”
An anxious man holding his head | Source: Midjourney
“Handling what exactly?” My voice rose. “Because from where I’m standing, my husband is either having some kind of breakdown or—”
“I said I’m handling it!” The force in his voice made me step back. In three years of marriage, I’d never heard him shout.
“Fine.” I turned toward the house, tears stinging my eyes. “Handle it yourself. Just like you’ve been handling everything else lately.”
“Reggie, wait—” He reached for me, but I pulled away.
“Don’t. Just… don’t.”
A furious woman | Source: Midjourney
Sleep evaded me that night. Ben never came to bed, and the couch creaked periodically with his restless movements. Around 3 a.m., I heard the back door open and close. Through the bedroom window, I watched him check on the place where he’d buried the mysterious egg, pacing around it like a sentry.
What’s wrong with him? What is he hiding from me?
Morning came too quickly. I waited until Ben’s car disappeared down the street before grabbing the garden shovel. My hands trembled as I approached the freshly turned earth. I HAD TO DIG UP THAT THING!
“What are you hiding, Ben?” I whispered, pushing the shovel into the soft dirt.
A woman holding a shovel | Source: Midjourney
It took 20 minutes of digging before I hit something solid. The egg was surprisingly light when I unearthed it, though my arms shook with the effort.
Up close, its surface felt wrong — not like shell, but like… plastic? I twisted it slightly, and to my shock, it separated in the middle like some oversized Easter egg.
Empty. Completely empty except for more layers of black plastic.
“Regina?” Someone called out from behind.
I jumped, nearly dropping the egg. Our elderly neighbor, Mr. Chen, peered over the fence, his eyes fixed on the object in my hands.
A shocked woman holding a big black egg | Source: Midjourney
“I saw someone in your garden late last night,” he said slowly. “Everything okay?”
“Fine,” I said quickly, hiding the egg behind me. “Just… gardening.”
His expression said he didn’t believe me, but he nodded politely and disappeared. I waited until I heard his door close before examining the egg more closely. The craftsmanship was impressive, but it was definitely artificial. What had Ben gotten himself into?
My mind raced through possibilities. This wasn’t just about a buried object. It was about Ben’s bizarre behavior and the way he was terrified when he saw me home early.
Something bigger was happening. Something that made my usually steady-handed husband dig like a madman in our backyard.
A puzzled woman holding a big glossy black egg | Source: Midjourney
With trembling fingers, I wrapped the egg in an old blanket and tucked it behind the lawn equipment in our garage. It was out of sight, but not out of mind.
“Think, Regina, think,” I muttered, pacing the concrete floor. “Maybe this was some elaborate joke? A midlife crisis? Or something far more sinister?”
I dragged myself to the car, hoping work might distract me from this madness.
The radio clicked on automatically as I started the engine. The news anchor’s voice cut through my fog of exhaustion, making my blood run cold:
“Breaking news: Local authorities have uncovered a massive counterfeit operation targeting antique collectors. The scammers sold fake antiques, including unique black egg-shaped plastic containers, to unsuspecting buyers. Total losses are estimated in the millions…”
A shocked woman driving a car | Source: Midjourney
My coffee cup slipped from my fingers, splashing across the dashboard. The pieces started falling into place. That evening, I placed the egg on our kitchen table and waited. When Ben walked in, his briefcase hit the floor with a thud.
“Reggie, I-I can explain—”
“How much did you pay for this thing?” I cut him off.
He sank into a chair, his shoulders slumped. “Fifteen thousand.”
“Jesus, Ben.”
A nervous man | Source: Midjourney
“I wanted to surprise you.” His voice cracked. “This guy at work, he said he knew someone selling rare artifacts. Said the egg was some ancient fertility symbol that would triple in value within a year.”
He pressed his palms against his eyes. “I used our savings. I was going to sell it and take you on that European trip you’ve always wanted.”
“The trip we’ve been saving for? That we’ve talked about for years?” My voice quavered. “Why didn’t you just tell me?”
“Because I’m an idiot who got scammed like some naive teenager. I was so ashamed.” He looked up, eyes red-rimmed. “Things have been so tight lately, with your mom’s medical bills and the house repairs. I just wanted to fix everything.”
An upset man sitting on the couch | Source: Midjourney
“By gambling our savings on some stranger’s promise?”
“I know, I know.” He slumped forward. “When I realized it was fake, I couldn’t face you. Couldn’t admit I’d thrown away our money on a plastic egg.”
“We’ll figure this out,” I said, moving around the table to take his hand. “But no more secrets, okay? We’re supposed to be partners.”
“I filed a police report this morning,” Ben added. “They said we’re not the only ones. Apparently, this guy’s been targeting young professionals and antique collectors, playing on their financial stress.”
An anxious man sitting on the couch | Source: Midjourney
I squeezed his fingers. “I don’t need expensive trips or ancient artifacts. I just need my husband to talk to me, even when things get hard. Especially when things get hard.”
“What should we do with it?” Ben gestured at the egg, still gleaming mockingly in the kitchen light.
I studied it for a moment. “Maybe we’ll plant it in the garden for real. Right next to those tomatoes you’ve been trying to grow.”
A smiling woman holding a big black egg | Source: Midjourney
“As a reminder of what not to do?” A ghost of a smile crossed his face.
“As a reminder that the only thing we need to grow is our trust in each other.” I leaned against him. “And maybe as a conversation piece. ‘Hey, want to hear about the time my husband buried a fake artifact in our backyard?!’”
Ben’s laugh was shaky but real. “I love you, Reggie. Even when I’m an idiot.”
“Lucky for you, I love idiots.” I kissed his forehead. “Now, let’s figure out how to get our money back. Together this time.”
A man laughing | Source: Midjourney
This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.
We pulled down a false wall in the cellar of our 1857 house and found this! What is it? Any idea?
A questioner said:
We pulled down a false wall in the cellar of our 1857 house and found this! What is it? Any idea?
May be an image of water heater and hearth
Some of the people comments about this found were:
How come no one talking about the tea kettle that’s just suspended in the air
Weird it was covered
My mother cooked on one of these, she made amazing meals, also bread and cakes, Friday was bake day. We lived on the moors in the borders of England and Scotland. I now live in western Maryland, US.
Excellent find, too bad it was not a treasure chest
That is beautiful. An antique dealer will give you quite a lot of money for that. I wouldn’t move it or touch it until I talk to antique dealers.
What an amazing find. I wonder why the former owners covered that up.
Nice I would start tearing down other walls maybe find something else!
It was probably too heavy to get it out of the cellar so they left it.
Wooooow lucky you I would be over the moon and use it with pride … I remember staying with my nan at weekends she had one and remember her having an iron on there to do her ironing … and doing toast on the fire it was lovely… lucky you 
What a treasure
So the original kitchen may have been in the cellar or it was the kitchen for the servants. Love it
I’d leave it right there. Dust it off. Then design around it. It would be the focal point of your room.
NO!!!is it full size or a child’s size? Whatever! What a FIND!
It appears like they intentionally closed up the fireplace with stove and kettles intact for a future find like this. As a builder/contractor we almost always leave little mementoes or time capsules in the wall or closed off portions of the build. We often include owners information and pictures as well as our information. Coins from the year we did the project. Even bran new tape measures or hammers. Sometimes I’ve included brief essays on current events or political thoughts. It’s fun.
Imagine putting a wall up with the kettles still on the stove!
It looks child Size. That’s truly amazing!
Do you think this was original kitchen?
Wow! They left the tea pots in there!!
I used to black lead one of these for my gran, when I was a child. Of black lead can still be bought ot will come up like new.
That old black grate is in great condition. So what are you going to do with it?
What are your thoughts?
Owning an old house often feels like holding a piece of history in your hands. Each creak and groan of the floorboards, each worn corner, and each weathered brick tells a story. When we bought our 1857 home, we knew it had secrets. Little did we know that one of its most remarkable stories was waiting to be uncovered behind a false wall in the cellar.
The Discovery
Our journey began with a simple home improvement project. The cellar, with its stone walls and cool, damp air, had always intrigued us. One wall, in particular, seemed different. It sounded hollow when tapped and had an odd, almost hidden, seam running down its length. Curiosity got the better of us, and with a few tools and a lot of determination, we decided to investigate.
As we carefully dismantled the wall, brick by brick, our anticipation grew. Finally, the last layer crumbled away to reveal a dusty, forgotten room. What lay within was beyond our wildest dreams.
The Hidden Room
The room was like a time capsule, sealed away and untouched for decades. Dust motes danced in the beams of our flashlights, illuminating a collection of objects that seemed frozen in time. We found old furniture, crates filled with yellowing papers, and a variety of curious artifacts.
Treasures and Traces of the Past
Among the most fascinating finds were:
Antique Furniture: A beautifully crafted wooden rocking chair, a small writing desk, and a trunk filled with linens and clothing from the 19th century.
Historical Documents: Letters, diaries, and legal papers that offered a glimpse into the lives of the home’s previous occupants. One particularly poignant diary detailed the daily life of a woman who lived in the house during the Civil War.
Vintage Tools and Equipment: A collection of old tools, a sewing machine, and even an early model of a phonograph.
Personal Items: Family photographs, a set of silverware, and a few pieces of jewelry that likely held sentimental value.
Piecing Together the Past
As we sifted through the items, we began to piece together the story of the house and its inhabitants. The documents revealed that the house had been a refuge during tumultuous times. The hidden room might have been used to store valuables or even serve as a safe haven during periods of unrest.
One particularly fascinating letter was from a former owner to a relative, describing how the false wall was constructed to protect the family’s most prized possessions from potential looters during the Civil War. This discovery added a layer of historical significance to our home, connecting us to the broader tapestry of American history.
Preserving Our Find
Realizing the importance of our discovery, we decided to preserve and document everything we found. We contacted local historians and museums, who were thrilled at the prospect of examining the artifacts and documents. We even received guidance on how to properly preserve the items to ensure they remained in good condition.
A New Chapter for Our Home
Uncovering the hidden room has deepened our appreciation for our historic home. It’s more than just a place to live; it’s a repository of memories and stories that have transcended generations. We plan to incorporate some of the artifacts into our home decor, creating a small museum-like display to share the history with visitors and future generations.
Conclusion
Our discovery behind the false wall in the cellar of our 1857 house has been nothing short of extraordinary. It serves as a reminder that the past is always with us, waiting to be uncovered and appreciated. As we continue to explore and restore our home, we look forward to uncovering more secrets and preserving the rich history that lies within its walls.
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