The Key ~ From TWISTED STORIES & TWISTED STUFF by Jill Gatsby

The Key ~ From TWISTED STORIES & TWISTED STUFF by Jill Gatsby

A Story by JILLGATSBY
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This is a twisted story about a Rupert Small, a twisted key and a matter of life and death. This story comes to you from the blog, TWISTED STORIES & TWISTED STUFF by Jill Gatsby www.jillgatsby

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THE KEY BY JILL GATSBY

 
TWISTED STORIES & TWISTED STUFF
by
Jill Gatsby
 

 

Rupert Small stood on the other side of the glass pane window as he watched the doctors frantically trying to save his wife, Sarah.  They’d been in a terrible car accident.  It was a horrid oil spill that had damned the freeway and stolen their happiness. Rupert watched his reason for existing slipping away right under his nose.

 

The doctors were hunched over her sweet precious body, digging their hands inside her, trying to return her organs back to their proper places.

 

They could very well have been kneading bread the way their arms were going up and down, and up and down. This was all Rupert could focus on at the moment; otherwise he was sure he would pass out.  

 

It seemed that Rupert and Sarah had suffered one misfortune after another their whole lives until that magical morning six months ago when they’d met at the New Orleans City Park picking up dog doo.

 

Sarah’s Chihuahua, Peanut had stooped over to take a bowel movement on the grass when Rupert’s Great Dane, Ranger had rushed over to Peanut and stuck his nose where the sun doesn’t shine. Promptly following a thorough sniffing of Peanut’s tiny rear end, Ranger decided to join the Chihuahua in his morning constitutional by squatting himself. 

 

Sarah had offered Rupert a little poopy bag then realized it wasn’t big enough to pick up what the Great Dane was dishing out. When Rupert pulled a thirteen-gallon trash bag out of his back pocket Sarah laughed so hard she had a coughing attack.  Sarah, Rupert, Peanut and Ranger had been inseparable ever since.

 

When he and Sarah had married last week, Rupert was sure they’d be together until death did they part.  He never imagined death would come calling so soon.  He felt dizzy.  He felt like he was the one dying. He leaned against the glass pane that separated him from his wife then drifted into mournful madness. 

 

It was the incessant sound of buzzing bees that filled Rupert’s head to overflowing and made him want to break things. It was Sarah!  It was his wife’s heart rate flat lining. And then someone was touching his shoulder. 

 

         “I’m going to be okay. I love you”, she said.

 

Rupert spun around, but Sarah wasn’t there. She was on the other side of the glass on the operating table.  The buzzing of the bees continued to scream out like a screw being drilled into Rupert’s head. The last thing he remembered someone was screaming over the sound of the buzzing bees, glass was shattering and little shiny rainbows were raining down all around him.  Then everything went dark. 

 

Rupert woke up in a hospital bed the next morning.  A little blond boy in a strangely colored yellow plaid suit sat in a chair and watched over him.  Before Rupert could ask any questions the boy stood up, reached into his pocket and pulled out a small key. 

        

         “This is for you,” said he.  “She wanted you to have it.”

 

The boy placed the key in Rupert’s hand then started to walk away.  Rupert looked at the key then shouted, “Wait! Who wanted me to have this key? Who are you?”

 

         The boy turned back for a moment, smiled then answered, “I’m the messenger.” 

 

And then if it he didn’t see it with his own eyes, Rupert wouldn’t have believed what happened next.  The doctor walked into the room and literally walked right through the little boy in the yellow plaid suit, who promptly vanished without a trace!

 

         “How are you feeling,” the doctor asked. 

 

“As if I’m losing my mind”, Rupert wanted to answer, but he didn’t because he wasn’t up to being committed to the psych ward just yet.    

 

         “How’s my wife,” he asked instead, as he clutched the key the mysterious disappearing boy had given him. 

 

         “I’m sorry, Mr. Guardian. Your wife is gone. We weren’t able to save her and you sort of tore up the emergency room last night if you don’t recall,” the doctor added.

        

         “I’m sorry”, Rupert numbly replied,  “I don’t remember anything.” 

 

When Rupert got home Peanut and Ranger were there to greet and consol him. The animals seemed as sad as Rupert.  Peanut curled into a ball at Rupert’s feet and whined a little.  Sitting at the kitchen table, Rupert began to weep so hard that his tears overflowed off the sides of the tabletop and onto the floor where Peanut gently licked them up with his little pink tongue.

 

Ranger put his paws on Rupert’s lap, reached up and licked Rupert’s tears right off his face.  Rupert kissed his big dog on the nose then took a deep breath and attempted to vanquish his feelings for a moment.  The dogs had to go out for a walk.  They’d been locked up since last night.  Perhaps the dogs were the reason why Rupert was going to go on living.  He had something to take care of. 

 

He pulled the mysterious key the vanishing boy had given him out of his pocket and studied it. 

 

It was a small silver skeleton key and it was shiny and sweet looking. It was the sort of key one might use to unlock a child’s music box or a diary perhaps.  Rupert couldn’t understand why the boy had given him the key or why he’d just vanished into thin air.  He tried to rationalize that perhaps the boy was just a figment of his imagination, but that didn’t make a wit of sense because the key was real.  It was resting in the palm of his hand.  He put the key back in his pocket and took the dogs out for a walk. 

 

It was hot and sticky out on this terrible evening for Rupert.  He walked the streets like a zombie, completely unaware of the two animals pulling him in tow.  As they reached the corner an old woman called out to him, “Big sale, Mister.  Music boxes for sale.”  Rupert kept walking, but then he felt something warm in his pocket.  He reached inside and felt the key.  The thing was actually hot.  He stopped and looked back at the old lady who was giving him a huge toothless smile. 

 

         “I’ve got the perfect one here for you, Mister”, said she. 

 

Suddenly Rupert felt alive with fear.  In the last twenty-four hours he’d lost his wife, been given a strange key by a ghost boy, and now the damn thing was hot in his hand and this toothless old woman seemed to be up to some trick with those music boxes.  Ranger pulled him towards the old lady and Peanut barked his head off and ran around in circles. 

       

 

  “I’ve never seen you on this block before,” said Rupert to the old woman. 

 

         “I’ve never been on this block before.  Why don’t you

 

try this music box, Mister” said she. 

 

She held up a pink music box with a gold leaf trim.  It was naturally beautiful and for some odd reason reminded him of Sarah.  He took the music box in his hands.  It was made of a heavy wood and it was locked shut. 

 

         “Well, it’s locked” Rupert, said out loud.

 

         “Then unlock it” said she. “You have the key right in

 

your pocket.”

 

         “Who are you” Rupert demanded to know. 

 

“Something’s going on and I don’t like it!”

 

         “Just open it, Rupert” answered the old lady.

He looked at Ranger then at Peanut, who was suddenly as quite as a mouse.  He pulled out the key, which was so hot by now that it was almost impossible to hold onto. 

 

He put the key into the lock and it fit.

 

         “What’s in here” Rupert looked up to implore of the old lady, but when he did she was gone.  In fact, all the other music boxes where gone and just like the little boy in the yellow plaid suit, everything had vanished into thin air, except for the music box and Rupert. 

 

He turned the key and the top of the box popped a crack open then a little song began to hum from within.  As Rupert lifted the lid he beheld something that would alter his reality forever. 

 

There inside of the music box was a spinning ballerina.  She beautiful graceful and she seemed to be alive!  She was no bigger than a little girl’s pinky, yet she was dancing away to the music from the music box, moving her arms with the grace of a swan.  As she spun around she lifted her head and smiled up at Rupert who gasped stupefied.  The little dancer was none other than his Sarah! 

        

         “Sarah?  Sarah darling, is that really you” he asked.

 

The ballerina nodded up at him and took a bow.  Rupert looked around for any sign of the old woman or anyone else for that matter who might be witnessing this little miracle.  There wasn’t a soul about. 

 

Rupert took his little wife home and set her on the mantle piece.  She danced for him all night long and this time he cried and cried, because he was happy. 

 

When the evening was almost over, she finally spoke to her husband for the first time. 

        

         “I’m sorry I am going to have to go now, but I will always be with you and we’re always together, Rupert.  I love you.”

 

         Rupert protested, “Wait!  Where are you going?  You can’t leave me again!  You have to stay here with me!  I can’t live without you!”

 

A tear rolled down the tiny ballerina’s face and yet she still smiled.  She told Rupert that this magic had been a gift because of the depth of their love, but that for their love to last forever he would have to let her go now and he would also have to give the key away to someone else who needed it. 

 

Rupert begged and begged Sarah not to go, but the little ballerina wasn’t in charge of such decisions and so as the morning light seeped in through the French doors of the house, Sarah the ballerina did a pirouette then disappeared completely.   

 

Rupert took the key and placed it in the black velvet box that had held Sarah’s wedding ring.  He didn’t know who to give the key to.  He didn’t know anyone who needed it or who had lost someone and so he took the key in the black velvet ring box to the nearest Good Will and turned it over to them.  

 

And then ten years ago, when I was in New Orleans, I went into the local Good Will to see what the good people of New Orleans were giving away and I came upon this key. I carried the key with me for years and about two and a half years ago my aunt was murdered in Beverly Hills.  She loved to collect little boxes.  And when I went up to her apartment I found a little music box.  And the key in my pocket got hot.  I put the key in the box and it opened.  I saw her.  She was a ballerina and she was dancing and smiling like I’d never seen before.  And then my father walked into the room where we were and she disappeared forever. 

 

I haven’t seen her since and I still have the key.  But now that I’ve told you this story I must pass this key on by putting it up for auction.  Because that’s what this blog is all about, isn’t it? 

 

TO JOIN THE EBAY AUCTION FOR THIS KEY CLICK HERE!  AND GOOD LUCK!   

 

© 2013 JILLGATSBY


Author's Note

JILLGATSBY
Please be kind to the holder of this key. We've been through so much. Ah hell! Go ahead and just tell it like it is! I've got over 300 more stories to go - a good criticism could possibly transform my mid-evil self into an actual writer!

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JILLGATSBY
JILLGATSBY

Sherman Oaks, CA



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TWISTED STUFF 4 Jun 2013 As I develop my new blog of twisted storytelling, it should come as no surprise to you that I will be updating and slightly adjusting my parameters as the days grow shorter .. more..

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