2016 – Day 3

Start writing a story that...

Step 1: takes place: in a lonely road

Step 2: add this word: forest

Step 3: include a dialogue that begins with: This is not my key
------------------------

Kayla's family moved to the house on Trodden Path when she was 11. It was an older, clapboard house painted beige with light green shutters. The road was long and straight and in the distance she could see the large farmhouse of the Mathesons, the only other family who lived there. They had come to welcome Kayla's family when they first arrived, bringing fresh eggs and cheese. The Mathesons were older than Kayla's parents and their children had already moved on with their own families, so there would be no other kids nearby except when the grandchildren came to visit on Christmas and Mrs. Matheson's birthday.

Kayla's family was small, with just Kayla, her parents, and her younger brother, who was two. She was used to doing things on her own and entertaining herself, but something about the new house and, especially, Trodden Path, was especially lonely. They moved during August to have time to settle in before Kayla began her new school. As soon as Kayla had finished unpacking her toys and had helped her mom take all of the dishes and cups out of boxes so that they could be put away, she ran outside to explore her new neighborhood.

Across the street from her house stood a large field, covered in wildflowers and stalks of various weeds. Her father had said it was once all part of the same property, the one where their house stood, but the owner had broken it into parcels with the intent of building a large subdivision to make more money. It had been his parents' farm, but he had no intent on farming it and couldn't find anyone else who would pay what it was worth, so the parcels were his second plan. But the money to build new houses had been lost in bad investments and no one was interested in buying the land as it was, so the field lay untouched.

Beyond the field, Kayla saw a forest with dense trees right at its edges. She wondered what lived there and whether she would ever be brave enough to find out. She spent the day wandering through the field and gathering wildflowers to bring home. She talked aloud to playmates that she imagined were with her, as had been her way since she was old enough to imagine anything. Lila was her twin sister who was smarter and more daring than Kayla, but trusted Kayla's judgment when things were important. Eric was their older brother who organized adventures, but let everyone weigh in on decisions. And Myra was Kayla's best friend. Shy and unassuming, she followed Kayla's lead. When she was little, Kayla talked to them openly whether they were at home, at the store, or on the playground. But now that she was older, she knew to keep their conversations private. Not everyone understood what it was to still have friends that no one else could see.

Summer days were deceptively long as the sun stayed above them for hours. Kayla realized how hungry she was only when she heard her mother call her in for dinner. She made sure that Lila, Eric, and Myra had heard the call as well, and they all ran through the field back toward the house. As they approached the road, Kayla noticed a glint of light bouncing off something just a yard from where she stood. She ran over and saw a key lying just at the edge of the road, resting against a tall weed that had pushed through the broken pieces of asphalt. She picked up the key and turned it over in her hand. It was brass and old, with a small round head and a smooth long stem that ended in two sharp points, one at the end and the other perpendicular to the stem.

"What do you think it goes to?" she asked Eric.

"Don't know," he said. "Let's ask Mom."

As they looked up to cross the road, they saw a truck coming toward them from the direction of the main road. Kayla recognized it as Mr. Matheson's truck and waved for him to stop.

"Maybe he knows," she whispered to everyone.

The truck slowed to a stop in front of them and Mr. Matheson leaned his smiling face out of the window.

"Good afternoon, neighbor," he said. "How are you?"

"Good, Mr. Matheson. How are you?"

"Pretty good. Just got some feed for the chickens. They go through it faster than you can imagine." He nodded his head to mimic the frantic pecking of his chickens, then laughed at himself. "Well, have a good evening!"

"Wait, Mr. Matheson!" Kayla said as he began to pull away. "Is this your key?"

She held it out toward him. Mr. Matheson stopped the truck and leaned his arm out to take the key from her hand. He turned it over a few times, then shook his head.

"This is not my key," he said. "And it looks too old to open anything in my house or yours. These farmhouses may look old, but they're nothing like this. Where'd you find it?"

"Right here by the road."

"Hm," he said, handing it back to her. "I guess you have a mystery on your hands. Good luck finding where it goes."

He waved to her as he drove on toward his house. Kayla looked at the key again.

"Kayla!" her mom could be heard shouting though the window across the road.

"Coming!" she called back. "Let's go." She put the key into her pocket and ran toward the house.