Mark turned around and walked briskly toward the hallway closet.
He remembered his late father kept heavy iron tools stored inside.
Eleanor followed him closely with tears welling up in her eyes.
Eleanor: Mark, I am begging you to drop this!
Mark: What are you so afraid of, Mom?
Eleanor: You are ruining this house for no good reason!
Mark: You have been holding a secret from me for years.
He reached into the dark utility closet and pulled out a sledgehammer.
The heavy steel head gleamed dull grey under the bright light.
Lily backed away slowly until she touched the opposite drywall.
Eleanor raised her hands in a desperate plea for restraint.
Eleanor: Please do not smash that wall down!
Mark: I need to see what is behind it.
Mark raised the heavy tool over his right shoulder.
He swung the iron hammer forward with immense physical force.
The heavy head smashed directly into the center of the wall.
Plaster dust erupted into the air like a thick grey cloud.
Chunks of white drywall fell noisily onto the wooden floor.
Eleanor let out a sharp cry and covered her mouth.
Mark took a step back to inspect the fresh damage.
The hammer had broken through the thin outer plaster layer easily.
Instead of wooden studs, a sheet of solid steel was visible.
Mark: What in the world is this doing here?
Eleanor: Mark, stop before it is too late!
Mark: Is this a real bank vault, Mom?
Eleanor: You do not understand what your father built!
Mark swung the hammer a second time against the border.
More plaster crashed down in large heavy chunks.
A massive circular vault door appeared behind the fake wall.
It was painted dark grey with heavy steel locking bolts.
A large cast iron wheel sat directly in the center.
Mark stood frozen as the dust cleared around his feet.
He had lived in this house for eighteen full years.
He never suspected a hidden steel vault existed in the parlor.
Mark: How long has this steel vault been here?
Eleanor: Since before you were born into this family.
Mark: Why did Dad hide it behind fake plaster?
Eleanor: Because some things are meant to stay forgotten forever.
Mark stepped closer to the cold metal surface.
The wheel looked clean and completely free of rust.
Somebody had been maintaining the iron mechanism regularly over the years.
He placed both hands onto the thick round metal handle.