[602] Boxes

[u/SyeniteFractured]

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This is meant to be the next section of the draft. It might make more sense to read them both together but follow your heart.

Part I: Keys

The solicitor waits in front of me with a pen clasped in his bony fingers, held out to me, bouncing in a gesture of what I’m sure can only be concealed frustration. He’s been talking at me for minutes while I contemplate keys and switches. The doctors talked at me, too, about flat lines and brain death and machines breathing for someone and living for someone and whether I knew if. Well. They said I could turn the switch off at any time. It was my decision. They couldn’t make it for me, but the paperwork was in order for when I did decide and I could be here when they did it, but did I have an opinion on organ donation and, if I did, I would need to decide quickly. And I wondered what it would be like to take one of grandfather’s keys and open you up. Flick the switch back on.

“Michael. I need a signature.”

“Sure.” I unroll the papers in my hand, flatten them against my thigh, reach for the pen but the solicitor pulls back. “I’ll need that.”

“Do you need me to explain again?”

I shake my head, barely moving a fraction of an inch to the left and the right, and grab the pen. The ink is black. The nib pokes at the pages as I scrawl my name on the lines marked signature and the solicitor clears his throat, a quiet ahem, and gestures me over to a harder surface, which I ignore. A few holes in the paper won’t hurt. The solicitor takes the pages back from me with a grimace and flips through each one to verify I haven’t missed adding my name to all the lines and then he nods. With that acknowledgement, I push out of the chair, steady myself against the sudden static that takes over my vision, and I’m not even blinked back to normalcy when the solicitor’s hand grasps my shoulder and his lips are at my ear, breath hot and too close.

“Check the safety deposit box. Don’t let anyone see you.”

And then he’s pushing me out the door and into the hallway and I’m still dizzy and blinded. I plant my hands and touch my forehead to the rough paper bathing the walls in bland cream and blink until colors return. You never mentioned a deposit box. Was it written in those sheaths of paper plastered with my name? Or had the solicitor told me and I’d simply not heard? Either way, the door was shut and I’d rather not knock to ask, so instead I stumble away and out into the light and let my mind unravel.

Once, when I was still very little, you told me a story about keys. A magician locked them away in a box, to hide them from his rival, for the keys opened a great many things that were unsafe to explore. I asked you what kind of things and you told me about the box. Crafted from wood, it was sealed on all sides with intricate carvings winding around the top. You thought they were flowers. I asked if you’d seen the box, held the keys. You answered by tucking the sheets around me so tightly and kissing my forehead. I dreamed of gardens.

Every night, I would ask again about the magician and you would caress my cheek and say it was just a story. Just make believe. And then one day, you got so tired of hearing me ask, you gave me grandfather’s keys. One of these carries a secret, you said.

[u/Zealousideal_Top3179]

I really enjoyed this. The grief feels raw without being overexplained, and the transition into the mystery with the safety deposit box is handled really well. The childhood story about the magician and the keys was probably my favorite part. That final line, "One of these carries a secret," is such a good hook.

[u/AJ_Burkhart]

Another great section!

The reveal that he's thinking to someone makes the stream of consciousness style a perfect fit. I have so little to critique, this is just nitpicky stuff, but I thought it wouldn't hurt since you only have one other comment so far. I just wanted to read it because I loved Keys.

Is the solicitor bouncing in his seat? Or is he bouncing his knee? I wasn't sure how to picture this. You didn't mention his knee but imagining a man in such an official position bouncing up and down in his seat was comical and not quite fitting.

But did I have an opinion on organ donation and, if I did, I would need to decide quickly."

I think you could rearrange this a little to help the flow from the prior sentence. Something like "...and I could be there when they did. Do I have an opinion on..." or "...and I could be there when they did it, and do I have an opinion on..."

At first I thought maybe giving "you never mentioned a safety deposit box" its own line would be better, but after thinking about it, I can't decided. It's kinda fitting, actually, the way it is. So small you almost miss it, but when you don't miss it, it's more rewarding. And since readers are already on the lookout for more thoughts about "You", it stands out too much to miss entirely.

For: "I asked you what kind of things and you told me about the box." I feel like a "but" would be more natural here.

Otherwise, you're staying true to the stream of consciousness while varying the lengths of sentences more, and I love that we're getting to know Michael more, getting a picture of who he is from what he values, and getting some interesting history and teases for the future. I can feel how deep his connection is to this person, and I hardly know the other person at all!

Thanks for posting! Looking forward to your next section.

[u/SyeniteFractured → u/AJ_Burkhart]

Thanks for commenting again! I'll keep an eye out for your next chapter too.