The Key - Part 1

This entry is for Writers Island.

"Take this and keep it safe" she said to me as she handed me a key with the number 23 on it. "It's very important. It's the key to unlock your past and your future." She grabbed her suitcase and boarded the train. I wanted to smile but could only muster a small curve of my lips as I waved to her. When will I see her again, I thought as tears rolled down my face. I waved at her like a mad girl with insane hand gestures, jumping up and down in the cold morning air wearing my thin cotton coat.

That was the last time I saw my mother. How beautiful she looked in her black dress with her black hair glistening in the lamplight of the station. She blew a kiss at me from the window. I ran after the train, hoping for another glance of her. The last thing I saw of her were her white gloved hand waving goodbye, sticking out of the train window. I was glad father was not there at the station as he would have cried and begged her to stayed. My mother would have break his heart with just one look. I had wished she didn't come back. It was too painful the first time that she left us.

At the bank, I felt strange and unsure of what I will find there. Staring at safe number 23, I turned the key in the keyhole holding my breath. I heard a click sound. I pulled the box out of the wall, onto the desk and flipped it open. I sat down in front of it. I was surprised. What did I expect to find? Looking at the empty gray space, my mind went numb. Nothing was there, not even dust. Could she had been wrong? Could my mother had gave me the wrong key? But it fitted perfectly. I sat there staring at the empty box. The bank was empty after rush hour, full of eerie silence. The bright florescent light up above make me a little sick to my stomach.

The bank manager, Mr. Bank, a very nice old man with wonderful manners, came in and asked if I needed any other help. I just smiled and said that I was done here and thanked him for his help. I shook his hand and walked out of the bank.

Into the semi-dark streets, I stared around me and wondered where I should go from here. I didn't expect any treasures or money in the box. With my mother, I never have high expectations and sometimes none at all. I was hoping there were be some kind of mementoes, some clue that can tell me where my mother went and where my father had disappeared, chasing after her.

It has been fifteen years and still nothing. Not a single letter letting me know where they might be or if they were still alive. Why didn't I go with my mother like she asked? Why didn't I just leave my father behind? Because he needed me. I knew with my mother gone, his heart would break and he would start to obsess over her, like the last time that she had left.

The first time she had left us was on a Monday. It was early in the morning when the sun was still trying to rise when my mother gently touched my shoulder, waking me from my dizzyingly happy dream. My father was still asleep. My mother pulled me aside and told me she will be leaving in a few minutes. She gave me a pretty handkerchief with a rose on it as a goodbye gift. I begged her to stay for father's sake but knew she would not stayed, not even for me. My father had brought her a new suitcase saying they might travel as a family some day when he had earn enough. Just the three of us he said. He was so happy just saying those words. He never left my mother's side, constantly doing whatever she asked of him.

After two years when she showed up one day, at our front door wearing a bright yellow dress with her dark lips smiling at us, I knew she wasn't going to stay. She stayed for only two days. Her restless heart could not keep her with us. I can tell by her waving eyes that she was only here for money. She told me all kinds of tales of her adventure out there. All the famous people she had met. I didn't care what she was telling me as I was, like my father, all too happy to have her here even for a brief moment. When she left, he was silent for a month, rarely going outside.

Even at a young age, I knew what it meant to obsess over someone, to long for them even when they are not there. So when my father sold his shoe business, packed some of his clothes and left me with his sister, I knew what he had felt. He told me when he find mother, we will all be together again. I believed him as he always told the truth. But I can see by the gleam in his eyes that he really believed it would happen. He really think he can find her this time. He gave me a hug and told me to be good and listen to my auntie. He told me he will sent for me once he find mother. I just nodded my head in agreement. My auntie tried to convinced him to stay but he refused. He said he had to do this, not just for him but for me too. He touched my cheeks and walked out the door. I stared at the back of his head as he walked down the street towards the train station. I wanted to run after him but my auntie's strong hand held me back.

As I stood in front of the bank, I heard my name being called. "Ms. Anthony!" It was Mr. Bank. He forgot to tell about the other safe box that my mother had opened under my name. She had taken her things from her box and placed them in this new one, about fours years ago. I was happy but my mind empty out its thoughts as soon as they came. Mr. Bank asked if I want to open my safe box. I couldn't speak and just nodded my head and followed him back inside.

Under the bright lights, I sat and stared at the gray box. I was hesitant to open it. What will I find in there? Will I find my mother who's heart was never with us? Or will I find myself lost in her turbulent absence?

I slowly flipped open the box. Inside was letters that my father had written my mother, letters from me to my mother. Christmas cards, birthday cards, a couple of old photos of my mother as a little girl. My birth certificate. Nothing new here but...I stared in disbelief. The name for the father was not my father but another man's unfamiliar name. Does my father know about this? I looked under the piles of letters and found some baby photos. Me with a strange man and my mother. At least I think it was me. The baby had the same eyes as mine. I turned the photo over. "Mr and Mrs. Morgan with their daughter, Barbara Anna." That is my name but...I couldn't think as I stared at the photo. With its frayed edges and the faded tan colors, it felt like sand in my hand. I must have sat there far too long as Mr. Bank told me the bank was about to be close.

I managed to gather the letters, photos and papers into my bag and left the bank. My head was spinning and I didn't know if this was what my mother had meant. The moon shined down onto the streets, reminding me of those late nights with my mother sitting outside watching the stars and chatting until the early morning sun pop its head out of the sky. I wonder if I will ever see her or my father again, that is, if he's my father. I hailed a taxi to the airport. I have no idea where I was heading but I will soon find out. Following the return address on the last letter my mother wrote to me but never sent, I think that will lead me to her. I stared out, up at the moon as the taxi began to move. It seem to followed me as if I was moving in the right direction.

Read part 2 here.