The Gardener
The Gardener
The Gardener
Every morning I pass this mysterious door that alerts my curiosity. It is a very large and heavy looking door with a brushed silver knob. It causes me to contemplate, what is that door there for, why is it always locked, and what could my parents be possibly keeping on the other side. I need to know.
As I sit on my wooden stool in front of the bar in the kitchen. I begin to ponder which I should do. Should I just simply ask my mother what is behind that mysterious door, or should I start a secret hunt for the key to the unclaimed door. What to do. My curiosity about the door only begins to build ,and build until I just cannot take it anymore. I need to know
I have decided I am going to march up to my mother and state ” Momma, why is that door in the hall always locked, and what is in there any way?” Yea, well it sounds
easy. I am scared to ask her. What happens if she gets angry that I asked, or what if she just wont tell me. That will not do me any good. I am tired of guessing! I need to know!
As I consciously walk up to my mother all these horrific thoughts run through my head of all the horrible things that could come of this. ” What was I thinking ,I cant ask my mother this, I am too scared!” So I run up the stairs and dash into my room.
I decided to rehearse what I am going to say. As I sit on my soft plush bed planning out every word, as I write then down on an old crumpled sheet of math homework, and rehearse them in the mirror as if for a play, or a movie. I have gathered all the courage I have and skip down stairs to meet my mother as she vacuums the foyer. I patiently wait for her to finish while I sit on the couch and watch her move the vacuum back and fourth.
She finally pulls to a stop. I feel a lump in my throat
as I start to get nervous. ” Why should I be nervous, she is my
own mother?” But then again she always reminds me ” I brought you into this world I can certainly take you out!” This is what makes me scared. But, I need to know!
“I can do this, I can go up to my mother and ask a simple question, I am not afraid!” Here goes ” Momma, can I ask you something?” “Sure, go ahead dear.” she says with much compassion. ” What is behind the big door in the hall upstairs, and why is it always locked?” she looks at me with a strange look on her face and says ” Maybe it is keeping something in, or maybe it is keeping something out who knows.” she turns away and chuckles as she winds up the long vacuum cord.
There I stand in astonishment. She did not tell me!
She didnt give me the slightest hint. This helped none at all. I am still left at were I was before wondering, and pondering of what is behind that door. I can not even guess. I need to know
New plan. I begin on a hunt for the key that may fit that rather large and unusual key hole that is located on the top left hand corner of the door. An odd place for a key hole I thought as I stood in front of the large door scratching my head in contemplation. Why would it be way up there? No one can even reach that hole for