The Music Box

Tradition

Unless it was the box itself! Melody scrutinized the key very hard. It was embedded in her brain. A bit rusty, the color of bronze. Weighed very less. What did you expect a key to be, though? Melody looked at the other keys, and groaned inwardly. Nearly all of them were bronze in color, after all. How was she supposed to differentiate between those? She let go of the key as soon as her mother turned back to her, to smile and say "Melody, did you see my other ring of keys? I think the key should be in that,"

"On it, Mum," Melody left without another word. By the time she had come back, her mother was holding the box, frowning. Her heart literally leapt in her throat. Had her mother come to know that she had touched the forbidden object? Not that it was forbidden, her mother had never specified so. In Melody's mind, she had simply made that up for a mystery. Her mother smiled at her coming in. "I want you to have this." Melody let out a breath of relief she didn't know she'd been holding. "But-but it's yours. Right?"

"And now it's yours." Her mother gave it to Melody, who had still not absorbed that the box was now hers. "This is the key." She handed over the key Melody had been scrutinizing earlier. 

They both watched each other in silence for a moment. Miss Warren let out a sigh. "Go on, open it if you want." 

"Why are you giving this to me?" Melody asked quietly.

"It's tradition. That's a heirloom. A parent passes it to their child. My mother had it, her father had it, his grandfather had it, and what other generations are there who had it, I've simply got no clue. It's not even ours, as you would've noticed." Melody looked at the other side of it and realized why. "The crest isn't on it. Some other family's. Whether they gave it to ours, or we took it, or they lost it and we found it, nobody knows."

"So it's still a mystery?" Melody's eyes were shining after her mother's speech. Her mother laughed. "You've already made a mystery of it, I see, Melody, but don't bother. Nobody knows that family's crest. They could've moved out of the country, already. Their descendants, I mean. We're given this, till we find them, and if you do, Melody, promise me, you'll give it back. To their rightful owners. We're just- let's say- renters. Tenants. Whatever you might feel about it," Her mother said, seriously.

"I promise I'll find them and give it back to them, Mum. I promise."

"Thank you, darling. You know, I've given that to you earlier than expected."

"Really? Why?"

"I'm supposed to give it to you when you're twelve. You're just six years old."

"Why at twelve?"

"It's a tradition." Her mother said simply, "But sometimes, you tend to brea- bend it a bit. I thought you were ready. Open it." 

Melody opened it and music played. It was a music box, like she'd expected but the music was lovely. "Pretty music."

"I thought so, too."