As the only janitor hired to work at the Camden Museum, Chris Hartman worked very hard to make sure that the history he was cleaning was kept in tip-top shape. He’d always had a passion for history but never excelled in school. Thus, he became a janitor for a museum.

The town was celebrating something big in a few days, the opening of the hundred-year-old time capsule. It had been dug up today and would be opened in front of the town by the end of next week. Everyone would be able to get a look at the history inside. Chris Hartman was especially excited to see the contents and so he worked even harder to make sure everything was perfect.

Almost done with his cleaning, Chris Hartman moved to the director’s office. He turned off all the lights and locked the doors. He checked the room that the time capsule was being housed in. It looked secure. The time capsule itself was a big burly trunk meant to withstand time. Chris was dying to inspect it closely but told himself to wait. It would only be a few more hours until morning and then he could take a good, proper look. And then it would only be a matter of days before the contents were revealed.

Chris Hartman closed and locked the door to the time capsule and went back to the janitor’s closet. Having done a good job, it was time to head home. It was long after dark and he was beyond tired. Perhaps that’s why he began hearing voices.

They were hushed, and he couldn’t make out what they were saying. Sneaking lightly on his feet, he moved around the corner. Two shadowy figures stood in the hallway. Was he dreaming? The figures moved and Chris hid around the corner once more. The voices became louder as the figures got closer.

“Where is it?” one voice asked.

“Up in here. We just gotta grab it and go,” the other voice replied.

“And no one will be the wiser,” the first voice said, snickering.

Chris Hartman was sure of one thing. He wasn’t dreaming. He was in the middle of a robbery. He backed up against the wall and held his breath, praying he wouldn’t be discovered. What if these were violent criminals? What were they looking for? Curiosity got the better of him and he peeked around the corner again. The figures were breaking into the back room where the time capsule was kept. Chris wasn’t sure what to do. Should he fight them or stay hidden?

The loud click of the lock turning open resounded through the air. It didn’t sound like the criminals had needed to do much to get in. But then there was a long silence before some muffled noises. The figures were taking a long time in there.

“I can’t get it to open,” one voice said.

“We have to! Work harder!” the other voice whispered harshly, “Everything is at stake here!”

“It was so long ago. Why does it matter?” the first voice asked.

It was a little late to be questioning the morals of thievery, Chris thought.

“You know why it matters. Do you want your family to suffer? I can promise you they will if we don’t succeed,” the other voice said.

Silence filled the air except for Chris’s shallow breathing. He decided to stay hidden. It sounded like these criminals weren’t messing around.

“I can’t get it to open. We’ll have to take the whole thing,” the first voice sighed.

“Then take it and let’s get out of here,” the other voice ordered.

Chris hid behind the corner once more. He could hear one of the thieves groan as they picked up something heavy, presumably the trunk. The heavy thud of their shoes echoed through the hall. It sounded like they were getting closer.

Chris held his breath, afraid he was going to be discovered any minute. The footsteps became louder and closer. His heart pounded fast and hard in his chest. He sent up a silent prayer, but it was too late. He was going to be found.