Another flop show. Another one of my videos had failed to catch anyone's eye on the internet. It's a funny place, the Internet. I won't say anymore!
I am a game reviewer. I play a certain variety of games on my computer almost all day and review them on my YouTube channel. There aren't much subscribers and I am involved in pretty much all type of freelancing activities during the night to support my expenses. Expenses of my 3 year old Terrier as well. Her name is Lana and except for the part that serves as the backdrop for my videos, she is allowed to do anything in the small apartment that I have in this busy city. I won't talk about my city either and you will gladly forgive me for that. Certain encounters with certain people in this city have completely drained me of my optimism. I am not a pessimist either. Just to let you know.
I had to work extra that week, compensating for the flop show. Alongside washing a few cars in my neighborhood I had also worked as a Pizza delivery person, a garage helper, a tech expert and whatnot. None of those could ever beat what I did that night. I was filling in for a friend that worked at a morgue. It was very late in the night when the senior asked me to get the keys to the truck. It was a certain government facility in the outskirts where we were supposed to collect a body from. Forty minutes of tedious, wordless driving. It was apparent that he was as interested in talking as he was in driving through any eatery to grab a quick bite. I would've liked that. But this guy was stern. A body was collected. A middle aged woman, in her fifties perhaps was shot thrice. He finished protocols while I was gazed down by the official, who in her mid forties herself, sported an id card that revealed how much power she had over the two of us. I quickly recovered and started doing whatever I could by doing what the senior was doing. The body was stout but was powerfully built. It seemed the woman was some sort of an athlete. A receipt of clothes and accessories was handed over to the authoritative woman and we left with the stretcher now increased in weight.
While the drive back to the morgue, my senior illuminated me with his insight and his own tale of grief. Her mother had worked at a government hospital for a very long time and was exposed to something and nobody took any responsibility. His insight that he had gathered from experiences of two people, his mother and himself, was clear: Never work for the government. Most of the people that die working for the government are disavowed in some way or another.
He sat and instructed while I finished other 'protocols' that were supposed to be done once the body was received at the morgue. I am sure the senior enjoyed as I did all the unpleasant jobs of sterilizing the body, bagging her things and whatnot.
Life after that day was pretty much normal. Only it had been two days. Nothing earnest or worthwhile happened in those two days except Lana misplacing my key for which I had to dedicate three hours. In the attempt of finding the not so dear key, I ended up cleaning my apartment. Well it was needed but I could have done it anytime. If you know what I mean. This key was tiny and it was the only thing I had received when I left the orphanage that I grew up in. The only thing good about this place was it was located further north and it rained less there than my city. Although we were seldom allowed outside, some of the boys including myself managed to pluck some fruits from time to time to act as the more benevolent ones in the residence of around three hundred boys ranging from four to fourteen years. It was just because we could gather more fruits that we gave any to anybody else.
This key was given to me on the day when I was accepted as a student in one of the public schools in this city. I had to work as a janitor four times a week to pay its fees. In addition to education, experiences surrounding hypocrisy of the school were tucked under my belt when I walked out of the place. However this key remained with me till now, I am unable to understand. I've been careless most moments of my life and this key is insignificant. I remember when I had nearly lost it while vacating my last permanent job. I was thrown out of there and if it weren't for the one co-worker that was sympathetic towards me, I would've lost the key that day. I was asked by my boss to leave then and there and only this Godly human being could persuade my boss to let me at least collect my stuff.
This key does nothing. It is tiny and I don't have a lock. I don't believe it actually opens something. Anything. Nevertheless. It has served as bookmark, can opener, earbud and whatnot. It has also served the purpose of making me clean my habitat from time to time. Lana does this quite often: She loses things that belong to me. I was making up my mind while I placed the key back in the shoe box that housed some weird, old things. Lana isn't getting her treat today.
Even I wasn't going to get any treats that day.
I had a call. The friend I had replaced in the morgue for one night was calling to tell me that I needed to get back to the morgue at once. He said something about the entry in the register and explained no further.
At the morgue, the senior confronted me right at the door with a register in his hand. I recognized it at once. It was the one he had asked me to write in my name and time of entry and exit.
"Cherry Kent. Is that your name?" He asked pointlessly.
"Always has been."
"Do you know who we found that day? The body we collected?"
"Um.. No?"
"It was your mother."
I was taken aback. Ice bucket challenge had been easier.
"I am an orphan. Always have been."
"See this." He handed me a piece of paper. "It was sewn into one of her sleeves. Talk of coincidences!"
I took the paper. It was a letter. Lot of Mumbo jumbo. It claimed to be written by a woman with an infant named Cherry Kent. Some secret agent stuff and the need to leave this infant at the orphanage. Clarifications. Bullshit.
"How do you know this is me?" I was feverish. "Could be anyone with the same name. And where is this locket? I packed it in her stuff that day. Will you give it to me?"
"Here." He said and handed me a small cuboid that I recognized as well. "It has to be you. You think you just stumbled upon this." The smile on his face was evil.
I came back to the confinements of my apartment. Sweat drenched every last corner of the fabric that I had on my body. I threw the cube. Lana brought it back to me.
It was the strangest thing I had ever seen. It was old and there were etchings on top, floral designs. I examined it carefully. There was a slit. A small, uneven slit as if to insert a key! The metal seemed eerily familiar on my hand. Its colour, its texture! I jumped up from the corner I had often chosen to mourn and took my key out of the shoe box.
My hands trembled as I inserted the key. It went in, perfectly, but it came out from the other side. No doubt this was a pair.
But what was I supposed to open?