The Key: Book One

By Mark Wesley

13-year-old Timothy Magee was ready for another birthday-the one time a year that he got to see his spirited, feisty grandfather.  He was prepared for the usual festivities-gluttonous consumption of treats, a few interesting presents, and hours of gaming with his friends.  What he wasn’t expecting was his life to be forever chang

• Language: English
• Publisher: CraftScape
• Release date: Sep 5, 2018
• ISBN: 9781642370799

Mark Wesley

Mark Wesley was born in Houston, Texas, but now resides in Austin. He graduated from Texas State University with an Undergraduate Degree in Mathematics and Physics and added his Masters in Sociology and Education soon after. He has been working with children for the last 20 years teaching, coaching, running afterschool and summer programs, mentoring, tutoring, and more. Mark currently teaches public school elementary and junior high students. In his spare time, he enjoys sailing, backpacking, and traveling the world on various adventures. Mark has a love for writing and telling stories, and has been entertaining children with his tales for years. His newest adventure includes spending time with his wife Kathryn and baby daughter Finley, and finally putting one of his stories down on paper. Connect with Mark and find out more about his other works by checking out his Facebook, Instagram, or website.

Book preview

COVER.jpg1.jpg3.jpg

This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters and events in this book are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any similarity to real persons living or dead is coincidental and not intended by the author.

Published by Gatekeeper Press

2167 Stringtown Rd, Suite 109

Columbus, OH 43123-2989

www.GatekeeperPress.com

Copyright © 2018 by Mark Wesley

All rights reserved. Neither this book, nor any parts within it may be sold or reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems without permission in writing from the author. The only exception is by a reviewer, who may quote short excerpts in a review.

ISBN (paperback): 9781642370805

eISBN: 9781642370799

Printed in the United States of America

Special Thanks

First and foremost, I want to thank my wife, Kathryn, for all the support she has given through the writing process—editing and content. While most of my work occurred on weekends, nights, on vacation, and at other times inconvenient to my family, Kathryn has been there, patiently supportive of the writing process. I must also thank my daughter, Finley, who at the time of this writing is almost a year old, and who has shown some patience when her dad worked on this book. I want to send a big scoop of gratitude to both my parents for actively participating in the feedback and contributions for this book. Their freely offered help was of great value in its completion.

Throughout the process of writing this book, many individuals have taken time out to help provide feedback and insight. One such colleague, who continues to provide these and to whom I would like to extend a personal thank you, is Matthew Brock. I am not sure how this book would have turned out if not for his support, feedback, ideas, and continuing dialog.

Contents

It Starts

Birthday Party

A New Place

The Gift

Getting Home

The Chase Continues

The Beginning

1

It Starts

Timothy had kept his promise for some time. He’d done as his grandfather asked, wearing the old bronze key on a leather cord around his neck and close to his person. While the item had proven annoying from time to time, especially during swim practice, he was set on keeping his word.

Lanky and somewhat handsome in appearance, the boy possessed a sporting spirit. Wrestling and swimming were his favorite activities and, having a somewhat athletic build, he picked up both hobbies quite well.

He had ridden his bike from school across the small neighborly town to a local recreation center where a bustling indoor pool awaited. People of all shapes and sizes moved about, following their own routine. Paddle boards, goggles, nose and ear plugs, swim caps and more littered the deck and patron’s bodies. Echoes from each slap of the water reverberated off the walls as one man with a whistle shouted commands towards a small group of swimmers; directing them on appropriate technique.

The boy loved the water and found the little extra time practicing gave him a better chance at besting his opponents. Having already placed his belongings in a blue metal locker in the white tiled locker room, he stood proudly in his red swimsuit at the deep end, ready to immerse himself in the cool water. Pulling his goggles over his head and placing them about his eyes, Timothy bent over at the waist and touched the wet tile just at his toes. With a deep breath, he leaped out like a rocket and dove into the pool.

The practice went without any unusual moments, quite ordinary and routine. Completing his laps in good time, the boy was ready to clean up, get dressed, and ride the short distance back home where a warm shower, food, and homework awaited.

Grabbing his towel and drying off his head, Timothy waved at a few locals as they passed.

You finishing up, Timothy? a gentleman asked.

Yeah. I just got done.

How was the water?

Same as usual . . . wet.

As the gentleman scooted by with a chuckle, Timothy made his way back to the locker room. The floor was wet and slick, requiring a sure and steady placement of each foot to guarantee balance was maintained. In the locker room, a group of men from the advanced swimming class shuffled about, getting ready for their intense, heart-pumping session. The loud hustling and bustling of lockers opening and closing and polite chit-chat filled the room.

Did you just finish a workout? a man called to Timothy as the boy pulled a t-shirt over his head.

Yes, the boy replied as he looked over, having recognized his coach’s voice. You doing a little swimming also, Coach?

A former college star who’d performed quite well in his division, Timothy’s coach now trained a wide variety of ages and skill sets. Nah. Just training these guys today. I like to see you doing the extra practice.

Hope it pays off, Timothy responded, tugging up and buttoning his pants.

As the men gathered their things and began to head out to their training, a small and swift creature darted in and around each man, circling the lockers and pillars that held up the ceiling.

What’s that? one man interrupted, pointing out into the air.

Looks like another bird got in, someone answered.

There it goes, a third offered.

The animal moved too fast for anyone to gain a clear picture for identification.

I can’t tell what it is, someone commented.

Another inquisitively asked, Is it a bat?

Regardless of the creature’s true classification, the men had class starting, and no time to worry over a bird, bat, or whatever it was darting about.

Timothy, his coach called, go let the janitor know we’ve got another . . . something loose and flying about.

I can catch it, Coach.

Sure, have at it. We’re heading out, his coach said, leading the group out to the pool.

The boy grabbed a towel and spread it out like a net, one hand on each top corner, and held it in front of him. As he quietly tiptoed down the aisle in search of the creature, the animal whooshed by, dive bombing the boy’s head. Timothy naïvely tossed the towel into the air at the creature, completely missing and allowing the thing to fly off into the showers.

Come on, bird, don’t you want to be outside? Timothy exclaimed, picking up his towel and following the flying nuisance into the shower.

Here, bird, the boy called, looking about for the animal. Where are you?

A spooky feeling began to creep up his back. At a lightning pace, the animal once more darted towards the boy. As the creature circled around him, Timothy twisted, pivoting about one foot, waving his towel like a matador dodging a bull.

Where’d you go? the boy asked as he noted a fluttering coming from the dark supply closet. Oh, I see where you went.

Timothy rushed to the opening, blocking the entrance with his body and towel. Staring inside, he tried to cut through the