Larry carefully stepped into the hidden chamber, shooing away the last of the heavy beetles, and picked up the wallet. He took it to his kitchen table, the intense, sweet aroma of the vintage tobacco leaves still clinging to the leather.
Because the billfold had been kept inside an airtight glass jar wrapped in tobacco—which naturally repels most destructive, material-eating pests like moths—it hadn't rotted. The leather was perfectly supple, immaculate, and entirely preserved from the elements. With trembling hands, Larry peeled open the billfold. It was a remarkable, pristine time capsule from the height of World War II. Inside was a stack of crisp 1940s Silver Certificate dollar bills and a beautifully preserved military draft registration card.
The name printed on the card in elegant fountain pen ink read Arthur “Artie” Finch. But it was the item tucked directly behind the draft card that caused Larry’s breath to catch sharply in his throat.