Asterisk Week 47: Sobre Chaves
By: Viviane Souza
Tags: Asterisk Project, Aprender Ingles, Escrita Criativa, Weekly Prompts, 80s Music

Regiane

My dad used to keep all of his secrets inside a special drawer in his writing desk. Or, at least, that was what he used to say every time we asked him why we couldn’t open that drawer. My dad was a nice man, a fun guy, who had a big heart and a smile that never faded. He always allowed my brothers and I to play in his study. We used to make a mess playing around with his belongings, using his piles of paper and pens to draw, grabbing his books to build forts and similar edifications. He didn’t mind; actually, he enjoyed having us around when working (or at least trying) while we were living our childish adventures.

The limit was the drawer. As it had a locker, we couldn’t just open it with our bare hands, though I tried numerous times. But without a key it was impossible, and my dad wouldn’t tell where to find it. My curiosity burnt in my chest and I used to make tons of questions about the mysterious drawer. But my dad would only laugh and make jokes about my detective skills.

One night my brothers and I went to the movies with mom and dad decided to stay and finish some work. While we were away, three bad guys broke in and made my dad hostage. They trashed the whole house looking for money and profitable items, and my dad cooperated without thinking twice. At some point, the robbers asked the same question I had made so many times:

- What’s in the drawer?

My dad was scared, but he insisted in keeping his secret and told them that there were nothing valuable in the drawer. One of the men didn’t like his answer.

- I will give you one minute to tell me where is the key. If you don’t, I will shoot you dead.

My dad considered the offer for 2 seconds, then took his keyring out of his pocket. Hidden among his several keys was a small one, and that was the one he gave to the robber. The man thanked him, and then shot him anyways. He was dead before reaching the ground.

The rest of the family, we that survived and arrived to the silent house some hours after, spent infinite days suffering and wondering why. The details of the robbery just became of our knowledge when one of the thieves was caught and happily shared all of what he knew in order to smooth his own sentence. Sooner or later, the other guys were arrested as well. We recovered almost all of our stuff and money. My dad wasn’t among the things that came back home with us.

In the end, the robbers didn’t take anything they found in the drawer with them. As my father predicted, they didn’t find anything valuable there, at least not for them. But they were special things for my dad: his university diploma, my mom’s and his wedding certificate, several drawings that my brothers and I have created during the years, silly awards we got in school fairs and things like that, black & white pictures of his parents… Memories that he treasured.

Losing someone is difficult, but the worst part is learning to live without the loved one. Each one of us in the family forged his and her own tools to survive and go ahead with the pain. In my case, I started to carry the drawer’s key with me. It became part of my keyring, and I’ve never used it again. But having it there makes me remember that it’s fundamental to keep the most important things of our lives close to our heart.