Aunty and no key

I thought that looked stupid.

StoryKettle » ODD » Aunty and no key

Copyright © 2012, Michael M Wayman

Why I took a different route to school that morning I don't know. Perhaps I wanted to be alone.

She was standing in the road looking at a house. I thought that looked stupid and I said something stupid to her.

She ignored it and said that she had locked herself out. I pointed to an open window. “But that's on the top floor.”

I climbed up and into the window. It must have been her bedroom. I buried my face in the bed sheets, lovely smell of woman. Down the stairs and open the door, was she grateful. “Come into the kitchen and I'll give you something nice.”

“But I'm late for school.”

“Oh, come back here after school, I'll be waiting for you.”

It was worth the wait, a big mug of cocoa and a big slice of cake. “It's a chocolate sponge, with chocolate icing with walnuts on top. I made it especially for you.”

That was too much. I cried.

“Oh sorry, what have I done wrong?”

I explained that nothing was wrong, nobody had ever made a cake for me before, nobody had said nice things to me before.

She stared at me.


Aunty and the magic key

She was about thirty and very kind to me, this was totally new to me.

I told her about the home, I told her that I had no parents, I told her about the other boys. I was lonely, the other boys seemed much younger than me. I told her about the homes, I had been to so many different homes and different schools.

She asked me about school, about my class. “Oh, you must be about thirteen.” I told her that it was boring, I was learning nothing.

“Why don't you come round to help me in the house tomorrow, it's Saturday.”

“Oh, yes please. You are very nice.” She stared at me.

I left the home straight after breakfast, I checked that no one followed me. I rang the front doorbell, long wait, I rang again.

She stood there in a bath robe. “Oh, it's you. Don't you get up later at the weekend? Well, come in. I'm going back to bed. What do you want to do?”

No question. I got into bed with her. “Aunty, do you know what?” But she was already asleep. “Aunty, I shall call you Aunty, but you are really my ersatz mother.”

I helped her round the house, especially in the garden. She gave me nice things to eat. It was wonderful, she was so kind.

“I'm not going to get up early to let you in tomorrow morning.” That did not sound good. “Here is an extra key to the back door. You can let yourself in.” More wonder, I had a magic key, Aunty had given it to me.

Every day after school and Saturdays and Sundays. I was happy.


Aunty and the bad key

I was unhappy. I had dropped the magic key on the floor just in front of matron. The carers in the home were horrible people, but matron was worse.

“Where did you steal that from? What door does it open? You won't tell me?” she yelled at me. She grabbed me and marched me to school. “You are going to sit in the cellar for the next six weeks. You will learn to be a good boy.”

What a bad day I had at school. It was the last day before the summer holidays. I wanted to spend the whole summer with Aunty, but now...

I looked out the classroom window, matron was waiting for me at the front gate. I slipped out of class and went out the back gate, I had to say goodbye to Aunty.

“Calm down! It's not so bad, really not. You have not got me into trouble. Your matron has a key, so what, how many locks do you think there are in this town? Do you think that she will try all those locks?”

“No, no, no. Matron will not force you to say where the key came from. You don't have to sit in the cellar for weeks. Just don't go back to the home. Stay here. I want you here.”

“Did I tell you that my niece, Josephine, is staying with me for the holidays?”

“And no, nobody will find you, nobody will recognise you. I have magic. Close your eyes and I will wave my magic wand and say the magic words.”

She turned me round and tied something round my waist.

I opened my eyes and saw Josephine in the mirror.


Aunty and the wrong key

I was sitting next to a large rag doll when the policeman came. Aunty collects dolls, the house is full of them.

“Josephine, my name is Josephine. No, I haven't seen a boy looking like that.” I gave the photo to Aunty. “Have you seen him?”

“Looks like one of the boys from the home. Have you tried there?”

The policeman said that the picture was that of a boy missing from the home. He asked if he could try a key in our door locks.

It was the magic key, but it did not fit, we had changed the back door lock.


Aunty and the ex key

I was sitting next to a large rag doll when the policeman came. Aunty collects dolls, the house is full of them.

“Why don't you go and play with your dolly in the kitchen while I ask your mother some questions.”

I grabbed the doll, went into the kitchen and grabbed a beer from the refrigerator. After some minutes the policeman came into the kitchen, I pretended to feed the empty beer bottle to the doll.

“Hello Josephine, I've asked your aunt – sorry about saying your mother – some questions and I want to ask you some. It's about your aunt's ex-husband...”

“Oh yes, nasty man, came into the house yesterday, had a key, Aunty forgot to change the lock. He thumped Aunty, very nasty man. He sat in the best chair and demanded a beer and a big sandwich and you know what – he did not say please.”

“He demanded to know who I was. I told him that he was a nasty man. I told him to go. He laughed. I said that I would knock him out, drag him to the road and throw him on the back of a truck.”

“He laughed again and said that in all his years as a boxer he had never been knocked out.”

“I biffed him in the side of the head.” I punched the doll gently in the head. “He tried to stand up, but sank back into the chair. He did not look happy. I biffed him again on the other side of the head.” I punched the doll again.

“That worked, so I grabbed his ankles and dragged him out of the house.” I dragged the doll across the kitchen table. “His head kept banging about, especially on the front door steps. I got him to the side of the road and didn't have to wait long. The traffic has to stop because of the road junction. I threw him on the back of a flat-bed truck. Maybe next time he will say please.”

The policeman thanked me for my nice story and left.

About a week later I heard some funny noises from the front door. I went out the back door to look. It was the ex-husband trying to open the front door, but the lock had been changed. I noticed a gun in his hand.

I circled behind him and grabbed his gun arm. “Drop it! Or I'll break your arm.” He pulled the trigger, bang, he shot himself in the foot and dropped the gun. What a loser.

He tried to bend down and reach the gun. I kicked it away. He fell and hit his head on the steps. What a loser.

I picked up the gun, I told him to get up and walk down the road.

He staggered along the road, I was not nice to him, he was in pain, I told him that the gun was aimed at his kidneys, and he staggered into the friendly policeman.


Aunty on key

“I've got good news, a surprise and bad news for you.”

What did the doctor mean by that? Did I really need to have a checkup?

“The good news is that you are in good health, quite fit really.”

“The surprise is that you are a sixteen-year-old boy, perhaps seventeen, almost an adult male. I mean, it's no surprise that you are male, wearing little girl's clothes doesn't fool me.”

“But you are not thirteen, no way. Experience tells me how old you are.” She brushed a finger over my chin. “You'll soon be shaving.”

“You probably won't grow much more and your voice... I don't think that it will break. Maybe being not so big and going through several different homes led people to think that you are only thirteen. However why you want dress like a sweet little thirteen-year-old girl I don't know.”

“There's a reason for that” said Aunty.

We went home. “Clever woman that doctor, don't you think? But tell me, what do you want to be?”

“You mean, a sweet little thirteen-year-old girl or a seventeen-year-old adult male? Ha, ha! I want something else.”



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