Where Are My Keys

Short Stories of the Keys

They were naturally annoyed, the Keys, to have grown up among overly kind old couples who showered them with praises and long night kisses. Boys never take that well, but whenever do people understand that? Their honor depends on their dominant and loud traits, so it is never too well to expose a soft heart to a bunch of old women. People never understand. So it was a thrill for the boys when they heard a young and beautiful teenage girl was shifting into town. At least at the very beginning, it was. It had been a long time since the Keys ever got to meet a girl who wasn't old or wrinkled. They were excited.

That noon they casually stood outside the garden gates whistling and humming in an act of nonchalance. Hector Keys rustled his bike keys vigorously, quickly growing impatient. He was the impatient little bastard among the four and it wasn't helping that day, not one bit.

"Is this really necessary?" He whined after a while, huffing when the other three refused to respond. Figo Keys, the youngest of the brothers, bit back a witty reply for he knew better, his three elder brothers were never too good for his wit. 

A while later Hector began to throw his keys and catch them with his dainty hands. Throw, catch, throw, catch, throw, catch, throw, he went until Hanson managed to snatch them away with his very mediocre skills.

"Why?" Hector whined again, stomping his feet in distress. He was a rather over dramatic lad, hard boy to deal with, so the three kept quiet as usual, looking straight ahead for a beautiful, young teenage girl they could introduce themselves to. And Hector was slowing losing his interest . In fact he never was too bothered about her. He was naturally uninterested and now that she was not punctual either, he was easily annoyed and frantic.

"Bah! To hell with the lady. To hell with all the ladies." He grumbled in a heat's moment, scrambling off into their shabby house. The three Keys didn't mind. The fewer, the better. Their strongest opponent was out. And hence they continued with mighty hope that she had arrive any moment and that they had woo her, glancing around the expanse of the silent neighborhood with such vigilance that it shone off of them like a bright, white, blinding light. It wasn't helping though.

"We could always just.....go to her house later and introduce ourselves." Jeoffe put out after the sharp sun began to faint. It would be dusk soon and the old, peachy, freckled women would be out for their evening strolls in a bit which was all the more reason to call it a day and hide inside their homely shack like the men they are.

"I agree." Figo piped in seriously, adjusting his clean glasses on the tip of his crooked nose. Hanson nodded too, but foolishly and quite unconsciously so, threw the keys he held in his hand,  somewhere beyond his knowing, out of excitement or disappointment, he couldn't quite figure out what.The clink was a fading noise, enough to instil in the three boys a frenzy. Jeoffe shot a desperate glance, or more, a glare at Hanson while Figo put his intelligent mind to work, drawing in a mental trajectory. The clink of the key could give away a lot of important information.

"You idiot." Jeoffe grumbled, before getting on his knees to search for the damned keys. Yes, the keys were damned for good.

The weeds in their gray, pitiful garden had grown with no notion to stop, they could hide in the crouched Jeoffe without any trouble while he aimlessly groped for keys he had never before cared to acknowledge. The bike was too big for him anyway, too big for his five feet, small figure, it never mattered before. So now, to over dramatically fight with the weeds for the keys, was a very surprising act.

Figo on the other hand, was heading south, outside the rusty gates, following his clouded instincts. A clink could never be heard on a wet mud ground, no. Jeoffe was foolish to think he was helping make any progress. It was a distinct key to ground, in this case, a solid ground, clink, not a key to key clink. Foolish Jeoffe, foolish Jeoffe.

In the mean time, "You think we can find it?" was all Hanson could think of saying while doing absolutely nothing but stare into infinity, wallowing in his self pity. "Maybe call Hector, yeah? It is his keys anyway." He mumbled after, thoughtfully, running into the house to fetch the man he always, at the end of the day, depended on.

The two boys though, were lost in their own tiny worlds, one literally in a world of tangled weeds and the other in a world of wit and math. But they were both, in this case, making zero progress. While the key lay in a corner on their porch, the wizkid had made a mathematical error which was a shame, squinting at the streets; and Jeoffe, well, he was Jeoffe and prone to all sorts of errors, bringing in more mess.

"Where are my keys?" Hector boomed in no time then, letting his angry gaze fall on Figo as he was unable to locate Jeoffe. Hanson, who had received his fair share of death glares, silently stood behind a wild Hector, staring down at the posh granite porch in awe like he always did.

"Must be here." Figo dragged his words, caring less about the angered Hanson, while squinting still at the empty, dust covered roads. "Should be here. It needs to be here." He demanded.

"Well it better be there, for I will-"

"Oh, its here."

There was an eerie silence, maybe except for the screeches of the weed, as three confused boys stared at the truimphant one who observed the keys like his specimen. It wasn't fine to not be successful after putting in that hardwork, no. But maybe it was time for the boys to learn it was an unfair world out there, for all Hector  could stare at after the keys, was the beautiful girl frowning in disgust at nothing or no one in particular.