Keys: Workshop response 2
The keys were lost again. Georgie knew they were not and had never been inanimate objects. She could swear they were inhabited by a malign life force that directed them away from her sight as soon as she had laid them down, scurrying under the bed, or lurking beneath a pile of newspapers. Or burrowing into the deepest, darkest corner of her bag confident they would never be found until, exasperated, late, driven to distraction, she would up-end the organiser and scatter everything far and wide - and there they’d be.
“You should hang them up as soon as you come in”, said Henry, and he went out and bought a key tidy – sunflowers, definitely not her style. He got out his drill, his slide rule, and the dustpan and brush. Lo and behold! Within twenty minutes his pedantic efficiency had secured the key tidy to the wall exactly where she could ignore it as she rushed in with a week’s shopping in bursting bags or late to pick up the kids or with the telephone ringing urgently on the kitchen bench.
Later on she would remember that Henry was due home and would expect to see the keys hanging there, smugly obedient, ready to hand. The search would begin and get more and more frantic. She’d bribe the children to abandon toys and join her in the hunt. The places they chose to check out got wilder and more desperate. Surely no one sane would put keys in their children’s gummies, in a butter dish in the fridge, or in the baby’s potty? By the time she found them she would be so mad she wanted only to hurl them out the window. Lost forever in the deep dark gully that bordered their section.
Then she would recall what the keys were for. To get in, get going. Oh, there must be some better way to drive a car or open a door. Perhaps they could put a coded entry pad on their front door. Perhaps someone would invent a voice-activated vehicle …
Huh! That was as likely as her turning overnight into a female version of Henry. Well, they did say opposites attract, thought Georgie, though she sometimes wondered for how long. And suddenly she sat down in the chair, the keys forgotten as she began to count her blessings and found them coming in below target.
posted by Jenny Argante @ 11:10 PM
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