The old mazda pulled up to the house. The weathered blue walls stood out like a sore thumb when compared to the rest of the neighborhood. As we walked up to the door, all of the trees swayed in a consecutive rhythm that made the place feel alive. We knocked on the door to hear cassie respond by barking loudly at us, we then heard someone say “I got it” and the door opened. my grandpa stood in the doorway wearing overalls with a white beard and a bald spot where his hair should be.
As a kid I always loved going over to my grandparents house, and my parents knew it. whenever i was off school for more than two days, my parents would send me over there to spend the weekend. I loved it, my grandma would always make me pancakes in the morning, me and cassie would play fetch in the yard, it was all good fun. my favorite thing to do over there though, was to walk cassie with my grandpa; because when we walked cassie we always went on sort of a journey through the neighborhood. the journey would start by opening the gate in the back of the yard to reveal a thorny narrow path infested with little bugs, spiders, and sticker bushes, but the path wasnt very long. the small path lead about five feet and then let out to a proper gravel path, that path then lead all the way down the towering hill into the valley below. On the right side of the valley there was the park that I always loved going to as a child. but on the left side, there was a large forest that lead to beaver lake on the other side. along the forest there were small openings that opened up in to frequently used paths that people would use to get back home from beaver lake.
One time in particular, I thought it would be fun to travel through one of the openings and see where the path would end. Me and my grandpa agreed that it would be fun, and so we started to wander in. On the path, there were roots everywhere and the ground was very hard to traverse. About five minutes in the trees started to clear a bit, and we were sure that we were at the end of the trail. the trail turned to the right and revealed a tree stump with just enough room to squeeze past. on closer inspection I noticed that there was a small key on the stump. I picked up the key and twirled it around in my fingers staring at the small details on the key. it had a black handle and a silver key blade, pretty much just a normal key. as I looked at the key I started to wonder where did it come from? what does it unlock? why was it there in the first place?
I continued on the path, thinking about the key and not the path. Finally the path cleared and we realized we had done a full loop. We both agreed to go home and rest as the walk was very long. That night, all I could think about was the key and all those questions rattled around in my young mind.
I still have that key. Locked aways somewhere in my house. whenever spring cleaning comes around, I find it again, and remember tha journey. This key has a story, and if it could talk, it would explain everything. But because it can’t speak, I just have to guess at what had happened to the key. I can only wonder, where did it come from? what does it unlock? why was it there in the first place?