Ani's Key - Catherine Abbey Hodges

ANI'S KEY - CATHERINE ABBEY HODGES

'I don't want to go to school any more,' announced Ani. Her school bag slid off her arm and hit the dirt floor with a thud.

Mama looked up from the kerosene stove and frowned. 'But you love school, Ani! And we're working hard so that you can go to school.'

'I know, Mama.' Ani looked at the piles of other people's laundry her mother had washed early that morning. She thought of her father at the dump, sorting through rubbish, looking for things to sell.


'The kids laugh at Dad,' Ani said. 'They say he smells like rubbish.'
Suddenly, Mama looked sad and tired.
'And ther's an art competition,' Ani went on unhappily.

Mama looked surprised. 'What's wrong with that? You've got the hands and the heart of an artist!You'll win that competition.'

'How can I even enter it, Mama? All the kids are talking about the stuff they'll buy. Paint and pens and clay-things like that.' Ani and her mother looked at each other without saying anything. Then Mama put a hand on Ani's shoulder and said, 'You can solve these problems, Ani. You just have to find the key.'

In the sun's last wink at the day, the broken kerosene lanterns, and the old bottles at the back of the house sparkled like treasure. Ani had her own treasure box filled with interesting things she had found at the dump: old buttons, keys, beads, bits of coloured glass, zips. She had cleaned them all carefully and put them in an old box.

That night Ani dreamt that she was a butterfly rising high above the kids and the art contest and her unhappiness.

At breakfast the next morning, Mama said, 'You seem to be feeling better today, Ani. Does that mean you've found the key?'

"I'm not sure,' said Ani. 'I had a great dream, though. Bye!' She grabbed her school bag, and ran out.

After school, Ani went straight to her treasure box. She sorted through the shiny bits of this and that, trying to remember her dream in exact detail. By Wednesday, she had everything she needed.

'Did you know,' asked Ani on Friday, 'that ther's an art display at school tomorrow afternoon? A professional artist is going to be the judge.

'Do you think we should go?' asked her father.

'Oh, yes!' said Ani. 'Imean,' she said quickly, ' I think it might be interesting.'

'I think so, too,' said Mama.

As they neared the school auditorium, Ani and her parents could hear the sound of voices and covered with paintings, and tables were loaded with sculptures, but everybody seemed to be looking up. Hanging from the ceiling, a shiny blue butterly turned in the warm breeze. It sparkled with-what on earth? Buttons? Beads?

Bits of glass? And could those be zips? Hanging from the butterfly on separate threads, chiming as they touched one another, was a dancing row of keys. Big keys, little keys, medium-sized keys.

She knew that the kids were thinking that junk could be pretty wonderful. Her father put him arm around her shoulders and squeezed hard. Ani squeezed back.

here...feeling's...the original contents by www.sensualityface.com or www.fairyage.com / describe with the help of Catherine Abbey Hodges-Adapted