The Key to Everything Read Free

grab another one.” Wiping up the last of the spill, you throw the damp paper towel into an empty packing box. “As soon as we unpack the swear jar, there will be another fifty cents in there from potty-mouth dad.” You watch Jason grab his juice and run off toward the living room, rubbing the back of his head and adding a little extra teary drama for Mom’s attention. 
    You can hear Emily comforting the little actor as you slowly move back to the sliding door. Looking out, you can’t see beneath the window from this angle. You open the door and step out into the yard. About two inches below the flower box, there is a red and brown splatter dripping down the wall to the ground. But where the wall meets the ground, it’s empty. The dead squirrel isn’t there. Instead, a line of blood runs along the grass toward the base of the avocado tree next to the house. 
    The roots are large and vein-covered. Not only have they grown deep, but they rise like tentacles reaching up to the sun. A splattered line of blood climbs over the crest of the highest of these limbs and then stops. A rustling sound comes from the other side of the root, hidden from view. Your heart is pounding inside your chest now. You want to see what’s behind the tree, but not without being somewhat prepared first. Not turning away, you back up slowly to the still-unassembled shed supplies. You reach down and pick up the closest thing you can find. The two-by-four is a little unwieldy, but it will have to do for the moment.
    Heading back to the tree, you notice little chunks of black, brown, and red launching into the air. The shuffling, scratching sounds get faster and louder as you approach. More of the pieces are flying farther away from the tree now. You lift the two-by-four over your head. You’re about two yards away from the root when it all goes quiet.
    Everything is silent. No sound of traffic from the road. No airplanes flying overhead. You don’t even hear the kids a few houses down the street playing basketball on their driveway. You don’t move. In fact, you can’t move. You don’t hear your heartbeat and you’re not breathing. You can see the bark of the tree in perfect detail. Every crack and crevice looks like a grand canyon. The ripened avocadoes that fell from their branches are the deepest black you can imagine. The bumps along their skin are gigantic mountain ranges. You can see the feet of the ants crawling on the leaves, each step they take leaving a crater-like imprint. Their mandibles open and close, trying to lift the heavy seeds and carry them back to their colony.
    “What are you doing, honey?” Emily’s voice snaps you out of your reverie and brings you back in a jolt.
    “Fuck.” Your heart pounds in your throat. “You scared me.”
    “Wow, Mr. Twitchy over here.” She steps out through the door into the yard. “What’s with the weaponry?” she asks, pointing to the two-by-four.
    You hold your hand out to stop her. “Stay there for a sec. I need to check on something.” 
    As you walk around to the other side of the tree, what you see stops you cold. The squirrel is trying to dig down in the ground between the roots. Normally you would think a squirrel would be climbing up a tree for safety, right? All over the exposed roots and surrounding grass, you see fur and skin. The body is twitching, having finally given up on escape. But the angle at which the head is resting is just not possible. It’s turned all the way around as if it were looking at its tail. The top of its head pressed against the back of the neck, bottom jaw facing up  toward the sky, with its tongue drooping out of the open mouth.
    Emily walks up behind you. “Oh my God. What happened?”
    You lean on the two-by-four and squat down to get a closer look. “Weirdest thing.” You see the eyes blink quickly three or four times. Then they stop. “I was at the sink and saw this squirrel up on the fence. It…it looked right at me. I know it