A Key to Trouble

“I can't sleep,” complained Fraser as he lay in bed next to his wife.

“I'm not interested,” Harriet replied.

“Not that…. Unless,” he touched her shoulder.

“Are you kidding? No!”

It was late; after midnight, and the Summer heat was taking its toll. The city was under rolling blackouts and their electricity had been off since early that morning. Without their air condition running, the air inside the house quickly rose and became unbearable. This was the third time this week.

“I'm getting up,” he declared.

“What are you going to do?”

“Read? Watch TV? Go for a walk?”

“After midnight?” Harriet sat up in bed. The thin film of sweat reflected the little bit of moonlight through the open windows.

“The air must be cooler outside by now,” he reasoned.

It wasn't.

There was no breeze and the humidity remained high. The streets were quiet as people tried to get some rest for their workday ahead. Most people in the neighbourhood, like Fraser, worked in the city. At least the office had air conditioning, and so far was being unaffected by the blackouts. I should try sleeping at work, he thought.

Fraser walked by the moonlight to the end of the street and checked the mail. They had community boxes in their neighbourhood, which was a newer subdivision built in the last five years.

The box was empty.

He sighed, and turned for home. But something reflected the moonlight back at him and caught his attention. A key was left in one of the boxes. And all at once, Fraser had a plan.

—

“So you found a key,” Harriet still was awake. Still too hot to sleep, she had gotten up and was sitting on the couch with a damp cloth on the back of her neck. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“It's whose key I found that matters,” Fraser smiled mischievously.

Harriet stared blankly at him, waiting for the explanation.

“This key is from the house at the end of Pleasant Place,” he said.

“The big one?”

“Yes, the big house at the end of the street.”

Harriet looked at Fraser skeptically. She reached her hand out to him, beckoning him to pass her the key. He gave it to her and she inspected the key carefully. “How do you know whose key it is? It's not marked in any way with an address.”

Fraser took the key back and rolled it across his knuckles like a coin. “I found it in the key hole of the mailbox. I know it's from the Pleasant Place house because I met the homeowner while getting the mail one day. That's his box.”

“So? Why does that matter?” Harriet asked.

“The big house at the end of Pleasant Place… with a pool.”

—

Fraser and Harriet walked the next block over to Pleasant Place. They considered driving, but didn't like the idea of leaving the car on the side of the road.

“This is crazy Fraser,” Harriet stated. “How did I let you talk me into this?”

“You're tired and you're hot,” he reasoned. “It didn't take much convincing.”

“But what if we get caught?”

“Relax. We'll just give him his mailbox key back,” Fraser said reassuringly. “He'll be so grateful he'll forget about us using his pool.

“But,” Fraser continued. "He's a doctor. An emergency room doctor. Maybe he's on shift and he won't even know we're there.”

However, as they reach the end of the street, they find that the exterior accent lights are on. Relative to the rest of the dark street, it looks like daytime at the big house.

“What now?” Harriet asked. “We'll be seen with all these lights on.”

“He must have a generator or something,” Fraser reasoned. “Or maybe solar lights?”

“Since we're here,” he continued. “Let's just make our way around back and have a quick dip in the pool.”

They gained access to the backyard by passing through a hedge. Despite the other lights, the backyard remained dark.

Fraser and Harriet gently waded into the pool by a set of stairs. They remained in their street clothes after removing things like phones and wallets, and of course the all important key.

“This feels wonderful,” Harriet declared after floating in the pool for what felt like half an hour.

Suddenly, there came a noise from the opposite side of the yard from where they gained access. It sounded like the latch on a gate.

“Back here officer!” said a man in shorts and t-shirt, presumably the doctor and home owner.

From behind the homeowner came a police officer who turned on a flashlight and pointed it in the direction of the pool.

Fraser and Harriet raised their hands as they stood in the shallows of the pool. Fraser sheepishly pointed to the patio table where they'd left their things. “I found your mailbox key,” he declared.

—

Harriet was not impressed. “How did I let you talk me into this?” She asked again as they sat in a jail cell.

“Like I said. You were hot and tired.”

The home owner was not at work as Fraser had hoped. And, despite bringing back the mailbox key, he was not happy about them using his pool. They were charged with trespassing and were just waiting out the night in a holding cell.

“Do you think we will have to pay a fine?” Harriest asked. “Do you think we'll have a criminal record?”

“I'm really not sure,” admitted Fraser.

Ten minutes later an officer came to their cell door. “OK you two. We have been authorized to release you on two conditions.”

Fraser and Harriet looked at each other, then back at the officer.

Fraser asked, “What conditions?”

“It looks like you broke a few branches on your way into the homeowner’s yard, and he's asked that you just pay the replacement cost. No other fine or conviction. If you agree, we have some papers out front for you to sign when you're released.”

“That sounds simple enough,” said Fraser.

“And the second?” asked Harriet.

The officer looked her in the eye, somewhat annoyed. “Isn't it obvious? Don't do it again!”

“Sure,” she said feeling embarrassed. “Of course. We won't.”

After this, the officer unlocked the cell and brought them to a desk for processing. He handed them a bag with their belongings.

“I'm curious,” Fraser spoke up as they began to sign the paperwork. “What made the homeowner change his mind?”

The officer chuckled. “I wondered that myself. So I asked him.” He shuffled some papers and stamped the top form and handed it to Fraser. “Once the homeowner looked into the cost of replacing the mailbox key, he decided you had done him a favour by returning it.”

With their release form in hand, Harriet and Fraser turn to leave the police station. As they excited the building, they were immediately confronted by the oppressive heat again.

“Well there's one nice thing about being in that cell,” Fraser said. “At least they had air conditioning.”