The Request
When the doctor had recommended Vernon to stay in hospital another week for precautionary reasons was when Vernon realised he needed to reassess his life.
When Vernon had told Petunia over the phone he would be staying in hospital for another week was when Petunia realised she needed to confront her memories.
The phone conversation was short for a couple married so long, but then some would argue there was an unspoken communication occurring. Both had ulterior motives, each so burdened with their own bitter sweet memories and unconfessed pasts that neither noticed the other's guilt.
"Hello, Dursley residence."
"Petunia- it's me. Er, Vernon." Silence had greeted him, but Vernon's thoughts preoccupied this moment for him. "Petunia, the doctor recommends that I stay in hospital for a while longer- now, don't fret it's just to be safe."
"Oh don't worry, dear." Petunia hated the way her upper-class drawl interpreted itself as if read from a script by a particularly bad actor, "Is there anything you would like me to bring up for you? A book maybe, Dudley's photo album?"
"Er, actually there is one thing. My box- I have the key." Vernon had long kept a wooden chest, heavily locked and wrapped in fine chains. He would never disclose its contents to any other living being- not even his wife or own son. Vernon kept the key around his neck on a lightweight chain; the chain was not his original. As he grew older his neck had expanded to the point that he could no longer distinguish between his chin and blubbery neck, so naturally the chain was replaced. The key, however, had never changed; it had only ever been touched by one other person.
"Your box? Is that all?" Petunia's thoughts turned towards that damn box. The only obstacle in her otherwise happy marriage. Vernon would never let her even rub her fingers along the stained wood grain of its smooth surface or feel the cursive inscription carved into its sturdy sides. Whenever she questioned about it he would hug it to his chest like a greedy child repeatedly telling her it was none of her business. She inwardly sighed, "Yes dear, I'll bring it to you right away."
"Uh, Petunia- please, be careful with it." Vernon felt as if he had entrusted the fate of human kind into his wife's frail hands, "Petunia?" He listened into the phone, answered only by a resounding click as Petunia hung her end up. "Maybe I'm just alone- where are your beautiful eyes?"
Petunia knew exactly where Vernon hid his precious box. She knelt down on her knees as she groped under their bed. Her hand brushed past some lint, the normally obsessive homemaker didn't even notice. Her thoughts were a thousand miles away, a thousand smiles and tears ago. Her fingers felt the corner of the wooden chest. She grabbed it, her grip was a lot harsher than what the box had become accustomed to from Vernon. She freely felt it for the first time as she spoke aloud,
"Vernon would have a fit if he knew I was touching his box like this." She thought for a moment, "Oh, Vernon did have a fit."
~
Vernon pretended to look busy as he heard his wife's feet purposefully slap against the hospital floor. He knew how Petunia hated his box, and he knew she would become frustrated to learn he had been anxiously waiting for it. She entered, with a tight smile thrusting the box into his hands.
"Uh, hi honey. I was just marvelling at the pattern on these hospital sheets."
"Vernon, they're stripes."
"Yes, I know. It's amazing how complicated they've made stripes look."
"Listen, I have to get back to Dudley before he eats the cupboard as well. Goodnight." Petunia placed a heartless kiss on the meaty forehead of her husband. As Vernon watched his wife's back retreat into the distance he felt naught but relief, followed by guilt before both were admonished by anticipation. Reaching around his neck, Vernon removed the key. He briefly toyed with it before easing it into the silver padlock that possessed so many feminine qualities. He gently twisted it and listened for the click. It was a loud, echoless click that caused Vernon's breath to halt momentarily.
The box was open.
When the doctor had recommended Vernon to stay in hospital another week for precautionary reasons was when Vernon realised he needed to reassess his life.
When Vernon had told Petunia over the phone he would be staying in hospital for another week was when Petunia realised she needed to confront her memories.
The phone conversation was short for a couple married so long, but then some would argue there was an unspoken communication occurring. Both had ulterior motives, each so burdened with their own bitter sweet memories and unconfessed pasts that neither noticed the other's guilt.
"Hello, Dursley residence."
"Petunia- it's me. Er, Vernon." Silence had greeted him, but Vernon's thoughts preoccupied this moment for him. "Petunia, the doctor recommends that I stay in hospital for a while longer- now, don't fret it's just to be safe."
"Oh don't worry, dear." Petunia hated the way her upper-class drawl interpreted itself as if read from a script by a particularly bad actor, "Is there anything you would like me to bring up for you? A book maybe, Dudley's photo album?"
"Er, actually there is one thing. My box- I have the key." Vernon had long kept a wooden chest, heavily locked and wrapped in fine chains. He would never disclose its contents to any other living being- not even his wife or own son. Vernon kept the key around his neck on a lightweight chain; the chain was not his original. As he grew older his neck had expanded to the point that he could no longer distinguish between his chin and blubbery neck, so naturally the chain was replaced. The key, however, had never changed; it had only ever been touched by one other person.
"Your box? Is that all?" Petunia's thoughts turned towards that damn box. The only obstacle in her otherwise happy marriage. Vernon would never let her even rub her fingers along the stained wood grain of its smooth surface or feel the cursive inscription carved into its sturdy sides. Whenever she questioned about it he would hug it to his chest like a greedy child repeatedly telling her it was none of her business. She inwardly sighed, "Yes dear, I'll bring it to you right away."
"Uh, Petunia- please, be careful with it." Vernon felt as if he had entrusted the fate of human kind into his wife's frail hands, "Petunia?" He listened into the phone, answered only by a resounding click as Petunia hung her end up. "Maybe I'm just alone- where are your beautiful eyes?"
Petunia knew exactly where Vernon hid his precious box. She knelt down on her knees as she groped under their bed. Her hand brushed past some lint, the normally obsessive homemaker didn't even notice. Her thoughts were a thousand miles away, a thousand smiles and tears ago. Her fingers felt the corner of the wooden chest. She grabbed it, her grip was a lot harsher than what the box had become accustomed to from Vernon. She freely felt it for the first time as she spoke aloud,
"Vernon would have a fit if he knew I was touching his box like this." She thought for a moment, "Oh, Vernon did have a fit."
~
Vernon pretended to look busy as he heard his wife's feet purposefully slap against the hospital floor. He knew how Petunia hated his box, and he knew she would become frustrated to learn he had been anxiously waiting for it. She entered, with a tight smile thrusting the box into his hands.
"Uh, hi honey. I was just marvelling at the pattern on these hospital sheets."
"Vernon, they're stripes."
"Yes, I know. It's amazing how complicated they've made stripes look."
"Listen, I have to get back to Dudley before he eats the cupboard as well. Goodnight." Petunia placed a heartless kiss on the meaty forehead of her husband. As Vernon watched his wife's back retreat into the distance he felt naught but relief, followed by guilt before both were admonished by anticipation. Reaching around his neck, Vernon removed the key. He briefly toyed with it before easing it into the silver padlock that possessed so many feminine qualities. He gently twisted it and listened for the click. It was a loud, echoless click that caused Vernon's breath to halt momentarily.
The box was open.