The Locked Door by C.E. Metcalf

When I was a child, I lived with my grandmother why to this day I don't really know. Not that it really matters. Many years have gone by since then. But one thing I'll always remember was a locked door. I asked many times what was behind it and grandma would always say nothing for you to be concerned about. But of course, I was a curious boy like most boys my age. I wanted in the worst way to find out what was behind it. No matter how hard I begged grandma she never gave in. She caught me a couple of times trying to pick the lock on the door. I never got my ass beat so hard in my life. I couldn't walk right for days.

Some of the neighbors would pick on me and tell me that room was haunted. At first, I was scared being young and naive I would believe almost anything people would tell me.

Now that I'm grown up, I have to admit I've told some tall tales myself. I can sling the bullshit as well as the next person. And sometimes even better I've been told.

Grandma and lived in a run- down old farmhouse that her and grandpa build many years ago. they were simple folks. They were happy with the things they needed not necessarily what they wanted. Times were hard back then. During the day grandpa plowed the field with his horse and plow. He was up before the chickens and worked till the sun went down. Every lunch time grandma would bring his lunch out to him.

All the years they were together they only had one child by the name of Harley. He wasn't quite Five years old when he caught the colic and died. That about tore grandma apart. Grandpa was a silent man he kept a lot of things to himself. But everyone knew he was hurting inside. Any normal person would be.

Not long before I moved in grandpa pasted away. He had a heart attack while putting hay in the barn. He was buried on the farm he loved so much.

There was no way grandma could take care of the farm by herself. For a while she had a hired hand by the name of Sam. He was a tall black man with a southern accent. He was one hell of a worker just like grandpa. I can't help but wonder if grandma didn't fall in love with him. She treated him like he was a king. When the work was done for the day, they would laugh and joke for hours.

One day when I came over for a visit, I caught them putting their arms around each other in the kitchen.

Now that I look back at those years Sam's bedroom was behind that locked door, I've always wondered about. Maybe his dead body is behind it. One never knows now adays.

I was seven when I was sent to live with grandma. By this time, she was in her early sixties. The years weren't very kind to her. She had her share of pains and complaints. Every morning we would get up early and feed the animals and milk the cow. Alot of the land had been sold off through the years because grandma couldn't afford the taxes on a hundred farm. She managed to keep four acres that was plenty for her. She never had a real job in her life. The only thing she knew was farming. There wasn't a question she couldn't answer about farming. She didn't talk must about Sam she always changed the topic whenever I brought it up.

By the time I turned ten I was doing most of the chores by myself. I was big for my age with made her happy. Her or grandpa never had any real schooling. Neither one of them got above sixth grade. But when it came to manual labor, they could do it all.

I got to the point I enjoyed working on the farm. At the end of each day, I could look back at what I accomplished and be proud.

I learned to work outside in all kinds of weather and what's funny I never got sick. Grandma or grandpa never went to a doctor that I knew of. They always used home remedies.

They had a cure for everything. I had some good times on that old farm. I now own that old farm. Grandma is over eighty and has to get around in a wheelchair. I finally had to put her in a nursing home. At first see hated the idea. She said she would only do it if I promised to keep the farm. I agreed and she signed it over to me. The locked door remained locked for years. I was so busy I didn't think must about it. Finally at the age of Ninety- one she passed away but before she left to meet her lord, she gave me permission to open that locked door. And right on top of the door frame was the key and I never knew it. I couldn't help but laugh when she told me that. As she closed her eyes for the last time she was laughing to. A few days later I had a funeral for her and what was left of her friends came to say goodbye and I had her buried next to grandpa. A couple of days later I finally got up the courage to unlock that door. When I did, I laughed so hard I started crying. Inside that door was the outside way of the house. I had long forgotten the door was covered up from the outside when they removed the old porch and resided the house. Through the years I had walked by the front of the house many times and never figured it out. I guess it's true if you want to hide something do right under someone's nose.