Christopher's Song (Indefinite Hiatus)

Chapter 6

Daniel tucked the book into the waistband of his pants and dropped the tail of his T-shirt over it, just in case their mother was still in the kitchen. The ruse was unnecessary. She was already in her study with the door closed, and the "do not disturb" sign hung on the doorknob, which meant she was working at the job she operated out of their home. In relief, the two boys scrambled up the stairs. As Daniel ducked into his room, Ethan headed through the connecting bathroom, calling, "I'll get Sky. Maybe if we put him and Sunshine together, they'll prove more catalytic."

When Ethan entered carrying Sky, he found Daniel sprawled in a chair, his feet propped on the end of his bed, staring at a bedraggled Sunshine. Ethan flopped down on the floor and leaned back against the bed, holding Sky up and examining him. The boys had been inseparable from the bears as preschoolers. As they had grown, the bonds with the bears had become more tenuous, but because they represented a connection to their father, the boys kept the bears in their rooms. They put them on a shelf that held childhood memorabilia during the day. But at night, the bears often found their way into bed with the boys.

Now, as Daniel replayed the memory of his father in his mind, he absently formed a channel to Ethan so his twin could see and hear what Daniel had experienced. While thus engaged, he aimlessly began to wind Sunshine. As the tinkling melody started playing, Daniel focused on the toy. While watching the tiny windup mechanism slowly spin backwards, he had a sudden epiphany. The musical windup key. Look at it, Ethan. It is the same shape as the hole in the lock!!

Remember when I twisted mine off, Ethan practically shouted back. I cried and cried because Sky wouldn't sing anymore. Mom tore my room apart until she found the key jammed in the crack between the mattress and the headboard. If we turn the keys backwards, they'll come off.

As Ethan spoke, he began to quickly turn his key counterclockwise. Snatching the book from Daniel, he inserted the key into one of the strange holes in the book. Having wound up his musical bear, Daniel couldn't take his key out until "You Are My Sunshine" tinkled to a halt. He helped the music along by twisting the key, and the music quickened, like a tiny piano on speed, but it was quickly finished. Then he too twisted off the key and inserted it into the empty hole in the lock.

"Ethan, Daniel," Jennifer's voice pierced their bubble of excitement. Daniel snatched the book, strode across the room in two steps and pushed it under his pillow as Ethan called, "We're up here, Mom."

Neither boy noticed one of the keys dislodge and fall. It caught on the buckle of Daniel's Doc Martens and stayed there as he grabbed Sky and Sunshine and propped them against the pillow. The boys didn't even look for a more secure hiding place. They knew their mother respected their privacy. She always knocked before entering their rooms. Not that she always waited for an answer before entering, mind you. If the door wasn't shut tight, she would often push it open and come on in. Theirs had always been an open, but respectful relationship. She didn't snoop like some of their friends' Moms. 

"Can you boys come down here for a minute?" Jennifer called. "I need to talk to you."

"Can't it wait, Mom?" Daniel called back, glancing with longing at the pillow where the book was hidden. "We're still suffering a little from last night. I think the best thing for us right now is rest."

Her voice came closer as though she had stepped out of the study and headed for the stairs. "I can always come up there," she said. "I'm sure your minds are clear enough for a chat with your mother." She added under her breath, "And I need to do this now, before I chicken out."

Ethan's sharp ears picked up the muttered addendum, and he repeated it to Daniel. She's agitated and mumbling about chickening out. The book can wait.