Authors: Brian MacLearn
Great Aunt Vicky was sitting directly across from me. She noticed my mouth was wide open and the garlic bread in my hand had stopped moving. I sensed her looking at me and instinctively rammed as much of the bread into my mouth that I could. I mumbled something along the lines of, “this is the best meal I’ve had in months.” Great Aunt Vicky furrowed her brow, drawing her eyes into a questioning stare, as she analyzed me. I shoveled another fork full of Spaghetti into my mouth and offered another, “Mmmm….this is really good.” She didn’t buy it, but she had the decency not to question me in front of the others or make an observational comment, which I would have to deal with. My Great Aunt Vicky could read people like a book, and I’m sure, sometime real soon, I would be put through another of her “little talks.”
I did my best to keep my eyes on the spaghetti and tried not to eat it faster or slower than I had been before. It was all I could do not to stare at the keys or fidget in my seat. My mind was off strategizing ways to gather up the keys to take downstairs and use to open the locked door. I was not paying attention to the conversation at the table. Great Aunt Vicky would make a comment and then purposely ask me what I thought. She was good; I had to give her that. Generally, I registered enough of the discussion to bluff my way through her questions, until all of us had finished eating. I could tell my Great Aunt Vicky was in a “slow down” mode, and I envisioned her sitting at the table drinking coffee until two in the morning. She would be waiting for me to make my move and then pounce on me when I did.
I might have been giving her too much credit, but she was definitely someone to watch out for. I tried to divert her by offering to do the dishes.
She smiled, patted me on the hand, and said, “No that’s alright, I’m sure you have other things you’d like to do.” Just run along and Marcie and I will clean up.” She looked me straight in the eyes the whole while she said it. I held her gaze, not wanting to back down or give her anything else to ponder. She continued to smile at me, and I returned a devilish grin back. There would be a shadow attached to me, and I was going to have to watch my every step for the next couple of days.
Still wearing my smile, I got up from the table and, with one last glance towards the keys dangling on the hooks, left the kitchen. I had no idea how long I was going to have to wait out my Great Aunt Vicky. I wondered if the best ploy might not be to leave the house and let Great Aunt Vicky wonder where I was and what I was up to. I didn’t have any idea if Matt was still around town or not, and I thought about using him as an excuse to go out for a while. Great Aunt Vicky would believe that I was in town somewhere, staying out of trouble…for the moment. I could hide out in the back yard and keep an eye out for movement inside the house. When the time was right, I’d enter the back porch and scope out the keys to see if any of them might be possibilities to open the locked room downstairs.
I would be able to disregard a lot of the keys on the pegboard. I was only interested in those that might be able to open the padlock on the door. As I made my way down the hall towards the living room, past the door to the basement, I had the uncanny feeling I was being guided…no, that wasn’t quite right…nudged towards a particular direction. It wasn’t my mind creating the feeling; there was a real mystery laid out before me. I knew in my heart Grandpa wanted to share something important, but it was the
what
and
why
that had me stumped.
I also knew beyond all doubt that I was the only one aware of it, not even the great soothsayer Great Aunt Vicky showed any recognition of the abnormalities in the house. If she did, she gave them little consideration. Anything that might have drawn her attention was probably satisfied with the notion that my grandfather was probably not himself towards the end. Not wanting to appear anxious, I went into the living room and flopped down on the couch. Justin was right behind me and took the recliner I’d been sitting in earlier. He grabbed the TV remote and turned it to a station showing an old western movie. I feigned interest in the show, while my mind kept chewing on the problem of getting the keys and finding a way to sneak downstairs without anybody seeing me. Every plan I could come up with had faults and potential pitfalls. I was beginning to feel like the coyote in the “Roadrunner” cartoons. Every potential scheme I thought up ended with an anvil, formed to resemble Great Aunt Vicky, being dropped on my head.
Just as I was concocting a plan using a tape recorder and luminous paint to draw attention away from the house, luck fell headlong into my lap. Great Aunt Vicky and Aunt Marcie entered the living room together and stood in front of both Justin and me. They announced in unison that they were going downtown to Bill’s for dessert and coffee. I fought back the smile from busting out on my face.
I said in the most nonchalant way, “Don’t stay out too late, don’t make me come looking for you.” Aunt Marcie laughed at my statement, but Great Aunt Vicky gave me more than a cursory stare. I dismissed her look by turning my attention back to the movie on TV. Both of my aunts said goodbye and then strolled out the front door. My heartbeat began to pick up as soon as the front door closed behind them.
I didn’t feel the need to worry much about Justin. I was fairly certain he would confine himself to the living room and sit in front the television for most of the night. I got up off the couch and headed towards the kitchen. Leaving the room, I called to Justin, asking him if he’d like me to bring him back a pop or anything.
“A Pepsi would be great!” he said. “Thanks Cuz.”
I walked by the pictures on the wall and again I had a feeling of knowing something, but not quite being able to get my mind around it. I flipped on the overhead light in the kitchen and went straight to the keys hanging by the back door. The first set had only Grandpa’s truck keys on it. The top peg, on the far right, had several keys bunched together on a Wilson’s AutoMart keychain. I picked it up and studied the keys intensely. None of them were the right kind for the padlock downstairs. Sighing, I put them back on the peg. In my haste to scrutinize the collection of keys, I’d missed the set of two keys on the bottom left peg. My heart skipped a beat as I whipped them off to study them more closely. They were exactly what I was looking for…padlock keys. Smiling my best Sherlock Holmes smile, I gave credit to the old man for hiding the keys in plain sight. What better place to keep a secret than where it would be the most obvious? Not wanting to skip anything, I checked out the last peg with keys. It was another combined set of mismatched keys, which appeared to be made for the doors into the house.
I fed the padlock keys to my front pocket and went to the refrigerator to get Justin his Pepsi. On the way to the living room, I whistled the theme song to the “Beverly Hillbillies” television show. It seemed appropriate; I had just found the keys to the treasure chest. Justin was where I had left him, sprawled out in the chair and totally engrossed in the movie on TV. He raised his arm towards me as I walked close to him. I complied with his gesture by putting the can in his outreached hand. He popped the top and drank most of it in one large swallow. I sat down on the couch again, biding my time. I didn’t want to arouse any suspicions, not that I thought Justin would catch on anyway. After painfully letting twenty minutes go by, I got up and headed toward the hallway. Justin didn’t even look up from the television set. I couldn’t help but think it really was a “boob tube!”
Just to make sure, I went into the kitchen and opened the back door, waited a few seconds, and then closed it. Moving as quietly as possible, I walked over to the basement door and twisted the doorknob. With one hand turning the knob, I used the other hand to put pressure on the door. When the bolt disengaged I pulled the door open as slowly as I could. Using my free hand, I grabbed the doorknob on the other side and twisted it all the way clockwise. I let go of the doorknob on the outside and stepped into the darkness of the basement. I closed the door, letting the doorknob slowly release the deadbolt, allowing it to slide back into its catch. Not one creak or pinging sound escaped. Satisfied with my stealth and a smirk on my face, I descended the steps into the dark basement below. Once at the bottom of the stairs, I felt for the twin light switch. Using only my sense of feel, I made sure to turn on the left one. It illuminated the basement and the locked room beyond in its yellow streaming light.
I couldn’t stop myself and ran to the locked room. Along the way, I did a jump-skip around a stack of old newspapers and leaped over three paint cans in the middle of the floor. Standing in front of the door, I imagined the treasure hidden within. I knew for certain that I would find all the missing pages from the journals upstairs and maybe even a secret stash of priceless heirlooms. It dawned on me at this particular moment that I had no idea what kind of money or wealth my grandparents really had. My grandfather could have been a millionaire for all I knew. Thinking about what I would find behind the locked door made my hands shake and my breathing come in excited bursts. I closed my eyes, trying to settle my mind. Taking a few deep breaths, I dug the keys out of my pocket. I grabbed the padlock in my left hand and turned it bottom up, so I could insert the key using my right hand. The key slid in easily and with a twist of my wrist… the key…didn’t pop the lock. I tried with all my strength to turn the key, but it wouldn’t move in either direction. I pulled it out and tried inserting it again. Nothing doing, it still didn’t open the lock.
I tried the other key, which looked to be an exact duplicate of the one I’d just used, same outcome. Even though they were padlock keys and stamped with the same brand name as the lock on the door, they were clearly meant for a different lock altogether. I said a few choice words for my grandfather, under my breath, and immediately felt badly for saying them. Grandpa was a cunning old bird after all. I considered giving the door a kick, but knew it would be totally out of frustration and using poor judgment. Disappointed, I stood my ground and studied the door, hoping it would reveal the secret to gaining its entrance. It had nothing to offer me. Calming down, I looked around the basement for other possible hiding places. If nothing else, I would keep my eye open for a pry bar in case I was left with no other choice but to break in the door. It wasn’t about getting in anymore, but how I did it. I believed the key was the object of opportunity, it felt right. I checked a couple of the shelves by the washer and dryer without success. Spending time under the stairs with the spider webs brought the same result. It was back to the drawing board and a new search for the key to my fortune.
I turned around and headed back towards the steps still holding the useless keys in my hand. I stuck my index finger in the metal circle holding the keys and began to twirl them around my finger. My mind was awash with thoughts of hidden treasures sinking to the bottom of a vast ocean. Where in the heck had my Grandpa hidden the key? With no insights or guardian spirits ready to help,
I was at a total loss. I climbed the steps and opened the door out into the kitchen without even trying to mask the sound. Why should I? I had nothing to hide and it didn’t matter anyway. After returning the keys to the peg, I grabbed a Pepsi for myself and returned to the living room. I found Justin exactly where I had left him and no wiser than before. I took my appointed spot on the couch and watched the end of the movie with him in frustrated silence.
I was thinking a good night’s sleep might refresh me and shed more answers on where to look next. It was still way too early to go to bed, but my mind was tired from all the highs and lows that came with the excitement of fantastic discoveries and the sour results they provided. When the movie ended, Justin tossed me the remote. He got up from the chair and announced that he was going to take a walk in the fresh air. I took it to mean he was going to see what was up at “The Last Stop” tavern. I didn’t move from the couch, as I watched him stretch and saunter out the front door.
I closed my eyes and tried to clear my head of all thoughts. Whenever I needed to get a handle on a problem, I would mentally run through songs in my mind to divert attention from the matter at hand. Many times, I would be rewarded with a new insight or even a solution to the problem giving me so much trouble. This time, all I seemed to be able to do was play back one song after another in my mind. With effort, I dragged myself off the couch and headed toward the kitchen. I’d left the kitchen light on earlier, and it was casting a glow down the hall. It reached far enough to touch the assorted pictures hanging on the wall. I stopped and faced the photograph of my grandpa and grandma. There in the dim light, mixed emotions ran through me. I was sad, because I missed the two of them, frustrated, because I wanted to believe my life could still hold hope for Allison and me. I raised my eyes and silently asked Grandpa Jake to help me out. I told him how much I missed him and asked him to please tell Grandma Sarah how much I loved her.
From outside, there came a timely gust of wind. It made the curtains over the open kitchen window flap noisily. The breeze carried through the kitchen, into the hallway and was enough to lightly rattle a few of the picture frames. The light and shadows seemed to eerily dance across the photographs of Grandma and Grandpa, Mom and Dad, and Allison and me. I had the sensation again that I was looking, but not seeing, missing something obvious. I don’t know if Grandpa was answering my plea and trying to help, or if my mind’s subconscious was working overtime. Without hesitation, I reached out using both hands and gently removed my grandparents’ picture from the wall. I knew before I even turned it over that I would find the key securely fastened to the back of the picture.