He placed the diary down on his bedside table.
What was behind those doors…. he wondered. What lured men so much, that they ignored the fear of death. But above all, where was the gate to the place that lead to those worlds? He laid there watching the ceiling, trying to sleep but could not.
He threw away the covers and turned on the light. He picked up the diary and as if in answer to his questions a letter fell.
A sealed letter in his name.
He opened it and started reading instantly.
Open the same drawer from which you found the diary, you will have to locate the lever that will open the panel at the back, there is another key and the direction to the gateway.
Wish you the very best. But my son, dont forget to read my diary entries and letters about the rooms before you enter them.
Wish you a long and happy life.
With love and blessings,
He scrambled downstairs and opened the drawer, after minute search he located the lever, the compartment opened, it had a sealed envelope inside it.
He opened the envelop, there was a map with clear directions and two sets keys, one was normal- appeared like house keys, the other was very extraordinary- very beautiful, it was folding, when he completely opened it it measured somewhere around 1 feet by six inches, it was made of metal, with a fire coloured phoenyx as its main body, the bird was an exquisite work of art.
he folded it back and concentrated on the map.
He packed up for the trip next day, because it will take him to a small island in Andaman, owned by his family for generations- a fact he came to know just now. His father never even mentioned it. But he could see why he taught him all sorts of sports and driving every possible vehicle, starting from small ships to helicopters and small plane. He knew scuba diving and mountaineering. He was not even in his thirties…
He boarded a plane to the airport named in the directions, from there he was supposed to take HIS boat, that was in HIS house there. He thought he knew his father … he never thought he had so many secrets!
He reached his house in port blair, it was a lovely little beach house. His boat, a small and very sturdy schooner was lying in the harbour, meticulously maintained by the man who took care of the house and their small property there.
There was another thing in that sealed envelope, a bracelet, with his name carved on it, he was supposed to wear it on his arm, from the day he arrived at Port Blair, and after that for the rest of his life.
The name of the man who took care of their property was Marx, he was somewhere in his sixties but was very well built and extraordinarily handsome. If Bodhisatva was of jealous type he might have gotten jealous of his looks at that age, he was more attractive than Bodhi.
“So you are heading for the island?” Marx asked.
“Yes.” Bodhi answered, “Have you ever been there?”
“None but the descendants of your family can place their foot on that island. Better beware of that fact young master.” Marx chuckled.
“Where are you from…? around here?” Bodhi asked.
He nodded in disagreement. He seemed an amicable but silent man, and Bodhi never bothered people who preferred silence so they had their dinner early and both retired to their chambers. He could see from the arrangements that his father treated Marx as equal so he treated him like his father’s brother.
He passed a restless night.
the rest is here: earthinbw.wordpress.com/a-little-bunch-of-stories/the-key