“Um…do you think…” Uncle Colin tilted his head twice to his left toward Eric, “…should be here? It would be highly irregular.”
Mr. Trouble almost laughed. “Isn’t everything we do highly irregular?”
“He has a point, Colin,” Mother Trouble said.
Uncle Colin hesitated a moment, then smiled. “Well, you
“Now that that’s settled, can we get back to work, boys?” Mother Trouble said.
“Of course,” Uncle Colin said as he turned back to the box.
Mr. Trouble and Eric moved in behind them, but the wall of adults was too tall for Eric to see anything. He craned his neck and leaned side to side, but at best he could see only a sliver of what was going on.
“Hang on,” Mr. Trouble said. He pulled a large plastic bin out of one of the storage cabinets and set it on the floor. “Stand on that. If it’s not high enough, I can get another.”
Eric climbed onto the container and was now able to see over Uncle Colin’s shoulders. “No, this works great. Thanks.”
“Is everyone ready?” Uncle Colin asked. He pulled his goggles over his eyes, and his brother, who had an identical pair sitting on his head, did the same. “Yes? Okay. Then here we go.”
He reached a gloved hand toward the drawer in the upper left corner, but just before he touched the handle, Uncle Carl yelled out, “Video!”
Uncle Colin jerked his hand back. “Of course. What were we thinking?”
It took them three minutes to set up a video camera and clamp it to a stand so no one would have to hold it. Uncle Carl then ran a cable from the camera to the closest monitor and pushed a couple of buttons on a remote. The image switched from a shot of the dark silent farm to one of the Maker’s box.
Using the monitor, Uncle Colin adjusted the camera’s angle until the box was centered, then said, “Now I think we’re ready.”
The brothers pulled their goggles back down and Colin reached for the drawer again.
“I am opening what we have numbered drawer number one,” Uncle Colin narrated for the camera. “The handle feels like metal of some kind. I’m going to pull the drawer open now.”
Eric could see him tug on the knob.
“It’s a little sticky,” Uncle Colin said. He continued to pull, his hand shaking a bit as he moved it up and down. “I’m not sure, but it….might….be….stuck.”
“Let me try,” Uncle Carl said.
“What difference is that going to make? You’re not any stronger than I am.”
“Just get out of the way.”
Uncle Carl shoved his brother’s hand off the drawer and grabbed the handle himself. But he, too, had the same problem.
“See,” Uncle Colin said.
Uncle Carl grimaced but made no reply.
“Why don’t you try a different drawer?” Mr. Trouble suggested.
Uncle Carl nodded, then moved to the middle top drawer.
“My brother is attempting to open drawer number two,” Uncle Colin said.
But drawer number two didn’t budge. Neither did the last one in the row, drawer number three.
They moved down to the middle row, drawers number four through six. This time Uncle Colin tried again.
“The handle of drawer number four feels similar to previous handles,” he said.
Uncle Carl groaned. “Just pull it.”
Uncle Colin tensed, ready to fight with the handle again, but this time the drawer slid out easily.
Everyone seemed to breathe in and lean forward at the same moment, but Uncle Carl was able to get his face over the drawer before anyone else could.
“I can’t see,” Uncle Colin complained, trying unsuccessfully to shove his brother to the side.
“Carl!” Mother Trouble said.
But her brother didn’t move. He simply stared down into the open drawer.
“Well?” Mr. Trouble asked after several seconds. “Is it empty like the ones in the other boxes?”
Uncle Carl turned his face so he was looking back at the group.
“No. It’s not.”
25
This time Uncle Carl didn’t resist as his brother pushed him aside and looked into the drawer.
“He’s right,” Uncle Colin said. He looked at his brother. “The tongs.”
As Uncle Carl scrambled over to the other workbench, Mother Trouble took a look at the open drawer herself.
“Well, that
Eric got off the box, and both he and Mr. Trouble tried to squeeze in so they could get a turn. But while Mr. Trouble was able to take a look, Eric couldn’t get anyone to make room for him.
“Hey, what about me?” he said.
No one even turned to look at him. It was as if they had forgotten he was even there.
“It must be some kind of joke,” Mr. Trouble said. “They must have known we were going to get the box and just wanted to throw us off.”
Eric tapped Mr. Trouble on the arm. “I want to see, too.”
“I don’t know, Ronan,” Uncle Colin said. “You may end up being right, but I think it’s safer if we don’t make any guesses until we’ve had time to examine everything.”
Eric groaned. “Come on. This is so unfair.”
Uncle Carl rushed over with a foot-long pair of tweezers in his hand, which he reluctantly gave to his brother.
“Give me some room,” Uncle Colin said.
As soon as Mr. Trouble was out of the way, he inserted the open end of the tongs into the drawer. After moving it around for a moment, he said, “Got you.”
Slowly, he raised the tongs. As they cleared the top, everyone crowded around again and once more Eric couldn’t see.
“What
Mr. Trouble said, “Give me that.”
“No, no, no, no, no,” Uncle Colin protested.
“It’ll be fine,” Mr. Trouble told him.
“Well, uh, wait, wait. Careful!”
Mr. Trouble turned away from the workbench, the tongs in his hands now. He lowered them so Eric could see what was between the two pincers.
A key. A dirty, old house key with a short piece of red string tied through the loop on top.
Eric stared at it, thinking for a moment he must be seeing things. “That’s…mine.”
Mr. Trouble cocked his head to the side, his eyebrows scrunching together in a hairy V.
“I’m sorry. What did you say?” Uncle Colin asked.
“He said it was his,” Mr. Trouble answered for Eric.
Uncle Carl shook his head. “He must be mistaken.”
“No, I’m not,” Eric said. “That’s my house key. I lost it over a week ago.”
He grabbed the key from the tongs before anyone could stop him.
There were shouts of surprise, and Uncle Colin even took a step back and covered his head with his arm as if he expected the key to explode.
When nothing happened everyone relaxed a little.
