Every door had its own creak, from musical to absolutely terrifying.
There was a spot on the dining room ceiling that looked like someone spilled a gallon of molasses or it was hundred year old blood.
Tara Kane looked at her father, shaking her head.
“I thought you said you got some work done on the place.”
“I did,” her father answered.
“This is too much house for you, Dad, too much work. It could be a beautiful home, but it was a mistake. Mom would have wanted you to downsize, simple condo, take it easy.”
One of the kids screamed outside.
At first it sounded like terror, then Tara realized it was just displeasure.
“Lucy! Nigel! Get in here and spend time with Grandpa!”
Matthew Borgman ran his hands through his hair and forced a smile.
“They don’t even know me, Tara. You barely do…”
The kids stumbled into the creaky front door and down the hall, Nigel calling Lucy an asshole.
Grandpa laughed, mom scowled and started to say something but Grandpa spoke first.
“I’ve got a surprise for you.I guess it’s a game…no, I know it is, but I think you’ll have fun trying to win the game.”
The kids stood flat-footed, skeptical. They really didn’t know their grandfather.
Matthew produced a large set of very odd looking keys. Tara figured they had to be antique.
“Over there, that door at the end of the hallway has three locks. You have to take these twelve keys and figure out which keys go with which locks, then open them in a particular order. I don’t know which. Top to bottom, bottom to top, maybe middle first.”
“What’s in the room?” Lucy asked.
“I’m not sure,” her grandpa answered. “But something. It’s an interesting old house.”
Nigel snorted.
“You bought a house without looking in every room?”
“That’s right,” Matthew said. “I’m a little eccentric.”
Tara knew her dad was lying. He was terrible at it.
Lucy reached for the keys, and Nigel snatched them, running down the hallway to the door.
Lucy ran after him, calling him names Tara didn’t understand but knew were probably off-color and definitely derogatory.
“You did not buy a house without inspecting every inch, Dad,” Tara said.
Matthew bit his lip.
“Your mom is gone. The kids don’t know me, have no reason to want to spend time with me.
You don’t even have any good stories about me to tell them. I spent 45 years making who-cares-what get shipped to who-knows-where, and I was good at it. And basically I’m a widower with nothing to show for it except a bank account. So I spent some of it.”
“On some goofy antique key game that you mounted on a door? Ohhh Dad, that’s not gonna hold their interest for more than five minutes. Maybe if–”
“No, it’s not some goofy game, and I’m told it will take a few smart kids hours to make the locks work properly. My buddy Big Dave is a locksmith. Those are real locks on a real door.”
“I’ll make sure the kids come see you, Dad. You can help Nigel with math homework, he sucks at that–”
“Hell no, Tara. I have one chance to be a cool grandpa. It’s all I have left. If that boy wants homework help he’ll get it, whatever they ask for they’ll get it, but I want this house to be fun. Hence the lock game.”
“So they figure out the lock game, Dad, then what?”
Tara felt horribly for her father. She rubbed his arm, tried to brainstorm ways to get the kids to spend more time with the old guy. Mom would definitely want that.
Her father was smiling.
“Behind those locks is the biggest TV I could fit in the room. I didn’t know which gaming system was the coolest for kids their age so I bought every one of ‘em.
Tara stared at her father.
“ Get the fuu…You’re not kidding, are you?”
Her father shook his head no. “I’m telling the truth.There’s a fridge in there stocked with sports drinks and pop, til Nigel turns 18 and can drink beer-
“21, dad.”
“18, Tara, it’s my house, and–”
“I got the top lock you guys!” Lucy screamed from the hallway.
Matthew Borgman smiled.
“And Big Dave will come over any time I ask and swap the locks out so it’s a new game every time.”
“Wow” Tara said, true awe and a little jealousy dripping from her voice.
“That’s amazing, Dad. You really put a lot of thought into this.”
Tara hugged Matthew, who hugged his daughter and pulled back, looking at her, waiting for her to look up.
She did..
His eyes narrowed.
“It was your mother’s idea. But she passed away before we could make it happen.”
***
Cool mother!
Wow.
This is a great story!
Love it.