Lunar Enchantment

The Hidden Key

I walked through the front door of grandma's house expecting to see her somewhere, but it was silent.

Of course.

My stomach growled as I made my way into the kitchen fully planning on eating everything in the fridge.

"Oh! I hope there's still lasagna in there."

I dug around until I found the casserole dish of delicious cheesy and saucy pasta. Grandma made the best lasagna. While putting the entire dish in the microwave, I saw a piece of stationary on the fridge. 

'Out with the girls. Back late. DO YOUR HOMEWORK.'

"How does my grandmother have a more active social life than I do? And I did my homework, thank you very much."

I sat at the island in the kitchen after the food was warmed up and picked at it while scrolling through social media. The house was too quiet. I almost wanted to put the TV on just to have some background noise. 

"I am so bored," I groaned to myself.

Sighing, I washed the casserole dish and started roaming around the house with no real idea what I wanted to do until I saw the attic door. 

"The trunk! I have time to snoop around and find that key!"

I went into grandma's room first. It looked like it had never been updated past 1955. Her old four poster bed never moved from the far wall and her dresser was always along the wall with the door. She had a dressing table near one of the windows where she would do her hair and makeup every morning.

A gold compact glistened in the moonlight. She'd had it forever and just kept switching out the powders. Great-grandma had it made for her 16th birthday. 

That thing is older than I am.

I opened the drawers of the dressing table, not sure what I would find. It was makeup and hair stuff. Nothing really remarkable besides the fact that my grandma used a lot of products.

"I think there's more in here than what I have. Geez, grams."

There were two night stands on either side of her bed. I knew she kept her crossword puzzles in the one closest to where she slept and an old phonebook in the other. I pulled out the old phonebook and put it on the bed while riffling through the stationary and envelopes. Nothing remarkable.

As I picked up the phone book a yellowed and worn piece of paper fell out. I bent down to pick up the piece of paper.  It was a handwritten note, its ink faded with time. The writing was elegant and cursive, a stark contrast to the hurried scrawl of modern notes and messages. The note read:

'To find the key, look where memories reside. Seek the heart of this home, where love and history coincide.'

My heart raced as I read those cryptic words. 

"What the hell is this? A riddle? What?"

I examined the note more closely, searching for any hidden clues or hints. The phrase "heart of this home" stood out to me.

"What is the heart of the home? What..."

As I pondered the note, I realized that the attic door was just a few steps away. 

"The attic would be the brain? Right? I mean it's at the top. That's the brain...unless it's not quite that literal."

I made my way to the attic door and slowly climbed the creaky steps. The attic was dimly lit, dust motes dancing in the slivers of sunlight that filtered through the small windows. It was a treasure trove of forgotten belongings, each item holding a piece of our family's past.

"Of course, this could be it. The heart of the family. Heart....nostalgia. Grams always did say family is where the heart is. So, maybe all their old junk will have a clue as to where this stupid key is?"

I sat in front of an old, dusty, wooden trunk that had the name Abigail etched on the top. Grandma had a sister named Abigail. 

"Why would there be a riddle to find a key to one trunk though? That doesn't make sense. Right? I mean, what's in there?" I said allowed, to the void beyond the reach of the attic light.

I began to search through the old trunk. At the bottom was a small pile of photos. The last photo was of grandma when she was young and a girl who looked exactly like her.

Abigail.

Sitting on a table to side of them was the trunk! 

"What! So, that trunk is old. A lot older than I thought, but why isn't it dusty? Why does it look brand new?"

I sat back on my heels and looked around at the other old stuff around me. There were a few boxes with mom and dads names on them. A few with grandpas and....a trunk with my name on it.

"My name? I have a trunk? Why are there so many trunks in this family?"

As I reached the far corner of the attic, I pulled the dusty, antique chest away from the wall. I ran my hand over the etching on the lid. It was adorned with intricate carvings of panthers near a lake.

"How bizarre."

I tried to open it but it was locked too.

"You have got to be kidding me!"

I let out a yell and stood up, stomping away from the attic.

"I know that these both have keys and I know they're in this house somewhere!" I shouted to the darkness of the house.

I went into grandma's office and started to go through her desk. It was a lot of bills, newspaper clippings of wedding announcements, births, obituaries and other odd old lady things. 

The bottom drawer though, it looked different. It wasn't quite the same as the others. The bottom of it was a lighter shade of wood then the rest of the desk.

"That's weird."

I felt around the bottom with my hand until I felt it. A little dip that was big enough for me to get a finger in. Against my better judgement, I stuck my finger in the hole in the drawer and pulled up.

The bottom popped off easily.

"That's bizarre."

In the hidden compartment was a small ceramic box. It was white with a panther painted on the lid.

"Why does she have this obsession with big cats?" I mumbled to myself.

I opened the lid of the little box and found a gold key. It was a long skeleton key and the top of it was twisted into the design of yet another panther.

"If this doesn't open that damned trunk nothing will."

The front door clicked open and slammed shut, pulling me from the desk. 

"Rory?" Grandma called.

I popped up from my kneeling position behind the desk and looked wild eyed. "Oh shit."

I put the key in my pocket and everything else back how I found it and quickly sat in the chair, turning on the computer.

"Rory?" Grandma called again, walking up the stairs.

"Um, in here, Grams."

"Oh. Hi. What are you doing in here honey?"

"My laptop died. I have it charging but wanted to email mom. She called today."

"How is she?"

"Okay I guess? Her phone cut out while we were talking."

"Hmm. I'm sure she doesn't have the best reception in the desert."

"Probably not."

"Well, I'm going to bed. Don't stay up too late."

"Okay. Love you."

"Love you too, sweetheart."