The Key To The Mariner

The Key To The Mariner

She watched from the living room window of her New York condo, as the balding delivery man scurried up to the door. He knocked just as she made her way down the hall towards the door. She opened the door to have an old suitcase shoved into her arms.

"Are you Miranda James? The delivery man asked.

"Yes," she answered. Trying to balance the suitcase and sign the form he held out to her.

"Good-bye," he called over his shoulder, and hurried back to his truck.

"Yes. Have a nice day," she called back. She closed the door and made her way back to her living room, and set the suitcase on the coffee table in front of her couch. She read the label:

From: Mrs. Jane Chilton 620 N. Jordan ST. Savannah, Georgia 67868. To: Miranda James 2330 Chaplin ST. New York City, NY 67807.

Before opening the suitcase she took a moment to study the painting on the side. It took her breath away at the sheer beauty of the majestic looking island. Pure aqua blue water painted to perfection around the sparkling sand. Further to the midst of the island were the greenest trees. With a few houses peeking through the trees and a few scattered about the shore. 'if only it were a true place' she thought wistfully.

She opened the suitcase tentatively, afraid of what she'd find in it. Lying inside the suitcase was a slightly crumpled map, and an old key. She studied the map and figured it to be a section of the Georgian coast. She flipped the map over and saw there was a letter taped to the back. The letter read:

Dear Miranda:

I am sure you are wondering what this is all about. I will make this blunt; I am your grandmother, Jane. Your biological mother's, mother. You receiving this means I have passed my time. I do not know if your parents ever told you that you were adopted, but you were. I have left you a house on an island off the Georgian coast. I will not tell the exact location, for you must find it yourself. Be sure to take the suitcase with you. Please know, my granddaughter, I have always remembered and loved you, since the day you were born. Your mother would also have loved you very much, had she lived. Good luck, my one and only granddaughter.

Sincerely;

Jane Chilton

She read the letter over once me more, as a mixture of emotions boiled in her heart, the strongest being hurt. Hurt that for 21 years she was part of a family that wasn't of her own blood. Hurt that the Dad that she looked up to so much never shared with her the truth of her real existence. Though as she thought about it she realized that a part of her had known they weren't related. She had always noticed the difference in their features. The James's were a blonde hair, blue eyed family. With light skin, and heavy bone structure. While Miranda had always had dark hair, dark brown eyes with a small, fragile bone structure. She also felt hurt that her grandmother had obviously known where she lived, and yet never came to introduce herself in person.

Miranda wasn't quite sure what to do about the key and map. So as she usually did in a serious situation, she called her best-friend Mike over. When Mike arrived 15 minutes later she showed him everything, the map, the letter, and the key. As mike carefully observed everything, she paced nervously. When mike finished he looked up and studied Miranda.

"Stop pacing, or are you trying to where a hole in the floor?" He joked. "Anyway I guess all you have to do is find the island the house is on." He studied the key closely, "at least you have the name of the house, 'The Mariner'... Weird name," he muttered.