The Big Man with the Tiny Hands
Opal leaned against the mailbox, trying to catch her breath.
What was she supposed to do now? Her choices seemed so completely hopeless. She could either go back home, but that would just mean packing her things and staying with Aunt Mildred until Aunt Frances recovered. Opal had been there before, and she didn’t want to do it again.
She felt a raindrop hit her hair and then her nose, and that’s when she realized she had left the house with only a sweater, a pair of jeans, and her sneakers. No coat. No hat. No scarf. And what’s more, no food, no money, no place to go but back from where she came.
And suddenly a shadow covered her. She looked up, expected a great big cloud, but it was a great big man instead. A really fat, hairy man.
“Hello, there,” he said.
Opal tightened her lips and stood up straight. Her heart began to beat a little faster, and her eyes opened at the edges to see beyond this one huge creature.
“Do not speak to strangers,” Aunt Frances’ voice came through to Opal.
“Don’t be afraid,” the hairy man said.
Opal felt trapped between this man and the mailbox, but she stepped sideways, took a sharp turn and began walking in the direction of her house.
“I have something for you,” the man called after her.
Opal kept walking.
“Please.” Opal could hear the man huffing and puffing behind her. “I know I’m a stranger and you’re supposed to ignore me, but I have something you want.”
Opal did not look back. She walked faster.
“It’s from your mother,” the man called out.
Opal stopped.
“From Mabel. Your mom.”
Opal turned and stared into the man’s eyes. “How do you know my mom?”
“It doesn’t matter,” the man said. “I’m just a messenger.”
Opal narrowed her eyes.
“Here,” the man reached his hand toward Opal, his loose fist held something shiny. Opal could see it through the cracks in his fingers. She also noticed that his hand was small, like a woman’s hand. It did not match his bulk.
“What is it?” Opal asked.
The man opened his fist, and in the palm of his hand lay a shiny key. It was golden, that key, and Opal could see something engraved on the top of it.
“Go ahead. Take it,” the man said.
Opal hesitated then lifted it from his hand. She looked closely and saw that the engraving was a tree—an autumn tree with some leaves still clinging and some leaves falling.
In all of her short life, Opal had never seen a key like that. When she looked up to ask the man what it meant, he was gone. Vanished. Just like that.
How could a man so big and ugly just up and disappear? Opal wondered.
She looked back at the key in the palm of her hand. It glittered there.
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Ooooh, I love this one.
Guri 29 January 10