I heard once that there's a time and place for everything to happen. Even though the future isn't here yet, your life is already set in stone and there's nothing you can do about it. Fate has decided what path you're going to take and exactly when you're going to take it... Sometimes I just wish fate could hurry up.

“Below the place the water flows, you’ll find a key beside the glow.”

I've been starring at those words for four years now, since the day my father set out on that cold September morning. I've spent countless hours with bloodshot eyes pouring holes into the thin paper, just waiting to kick-start my destiny and figure out what that sentence means.

My dad was kind to everyone, with feathery brown hair and crows feet by the corners of his blue eyes, which were the same shade as mine. Dad grew up on a farm with four brothers and sisters, and always had stories to tell me about taking care of the animals. He’d show how much he loved me every morning by giving me bear hugs for no reason. He used to play with me on our swing in the summer, I remember, and help me with my homework if he came home from work early, which was rare. He worked for the CIA (and advised me never to get a job like his because it was too dangerous). He once told me that he’d been tracking down a gang called the Seven Diamonds, which was about the only thing he ever told me about his work. That mission occupied almost all of his time. I’m seventeen now, but I still remember how his face seemed to age so quickly as he got more and more discouraged with the case he’d been assigned. It was like his work was the most important thing in the world. I saw less and less of him until I started to forget I had a father at all. Dad was still the same, though, because he’d sneak into my room to tuck me in every night, even though I was already asleep. Or, supposed to be asleep at least. I’ve always been a light sleeper.

I was thirteen when I saw him last. He’d tried to sneak out of the house at dawn, but I’d woken up to a loud creak in the floorboards. I crept out of bed in my pajamas to investigate, and was just in time to see his red convertible pulling out of our short driveway. My dad’s blue eyes locked with mine and the car stopped for a moment as he waved at me and managed a smile, but then he turned away and pulled out onto the road.

Of course I had just assumed that he had been called into work early. However, when I went back to my bedroom and saw an envelope beside my door, I knew something was different about that day.

That was four years ago. Now it’s May of 2013, and I’m still living in the same house.

I grew up with a nanny for a mother, her name was Julie, and she’s still living with me now. Mom left when I was a baby, and that really doesn't bother me. How can you miss someone who you don't remember? Dad didn't like to talk about her, he would just tell me she was gone, so after a while I stopped asking. And that's why he hired Julie. She took on the roll of full time parent when Dad was at work, and after Dad left for good. I can hear her typing on her computer out in the kitchen now, while I’m sitting on my wooden desk behind the closed door of my bedroom. Dad’s four-year-old letter from inside the envelope is on my lap and my foot fell asleep about ten minutes ago.

“Below the place the water flows, you’ll find a key beside the glow.”

Today is the day that I will figure out what my dad was trying to tell me. I've been putting this off forever, afraid of getting discouraged. Today is different, however, and I'm determined to figure this out. But it was so like my dad to leave me a cryptic message, just like in the suspense books that he stacked his shelves with. Dad was never one to take the easy way out, and I knew this letter was exactly the same. If I were clever, if I was smart enough, I would understand this little rhyme. Right now, I'm just hoping that the answer brings me my father.

High School is over and this is where I’m supposed to become an adult and start preparing for the real world. I figure, if the real world is the reason my father is missing, and I’m the only one who may hold some information about his current location, then this is how I am going to become an adult. There’s a reason he left me this note.

I read over it again and tie my brown hair up in a bun over my head. Rain is drumming on my window and thunder is echoing down from the dark sky. Water, I think. Water... Rain... Lakes...

"Below the place the water flows..."

There's a stream down the block from my house... What's below the stream? Nothing, as far as I know. That's a possibility, though.

"You'll find a key beside the glow."

What glows on a stream? Maybe a reflection? Maybe if I go out at sun set or sunrise?
Or, maybe there's something below the faucet on the kitchen sink.
I quickly wave that thought from my mind and decide to head out towards the stream.

"Julie, I'm going for a walk, is that okay?" I ask, walking into the kitchen. Julie looks up from her laptop with her red hair tumbling around her shoulders.

"Bo, it's raining!"

"Please? It's important. I'll explain later."

Julie gives me a skeptical look for a good ten seconds. "Don't forget your raincoat."

Outside the front door of my house is a stone pathway with bushes and flowers along the sides. The Spring rain is warm against my hands and I watch it fall down the roof from the end of my driveway, right were my father pulled out four years before. I stare at the large home in front of me, with its chipping red paint and pear trees scattered randomly about the yard. And then I look at the warm yellow porch light illuminating the raindrops as they pass it and cascade down into the garden. I remember my dad used to pick me up on his shoulders so I could touch the rain collecting in the gutter right above that light, on days when the weather was kind of like today. I sigh and turn around, crossing my fingers that the stream might actually have something below its water, conveniently next to something that glows.

Wait.

Below the water...

I spin back around with wide eyes and run down my driveway until I'm right underneath the dimmed golden porch light. I can hear the sound of rushing water in the gutter above it, raindrops clinking against the white metal. The lamp lights up the rain around me so the drops shower like golden diamonds.

“Below the place the water flows, you’ll find a key beside the glow.”

I'm almost at eye level with the light, and I reach out to it with jagged breaths. My fingers shake as they feel around the smooth, copper material, and it's warm, like it's been preparing for my fingers to touch it... Like it's been waiting for four years.

And right beside the light, at the back of its little cage, is a notch small enough to be just an ordinary dent... But I know better. I slide my fingernail under it and a little square of the metal slides up. All I can think is, this is what I've been waiting for for four years. I hold my breath and cautiously put my fingers inside.

I feel something... Like cold grooves, like...

Like a key.

Sure enough, I pull out a white key with worn out ridges on its side and little indents along its top. For the first time in a long time, I actually forget how to breath. Is this the key I needed? That's going to help me find my father? I roll it around in my hands and press its coolness against my palm. I start to smile without even realizing it because all I can think about is the promise, all the future and hope that I'm holding between my fingers right now.

"Bo?"

Julie steps out onto the porch. "Bo, what are you doing in the garden?" She smiles, but I can tell she's a little worried. I don't blame her, this must look pretty weird. But the smile fades when I hold the key up so she can see it. She looks at me with wonder in her eyes.

"Where... Where did you find that?"

I look over at the porch light and then back at her.

"I've been trying to find a key like that for years..." She says quietly, and my jaw drops. It seems like she was saying that more to herself than to me, but I respond anyway.

"What is it? What does it open?" I ask. I feel my heart rate pick up.

She shakes her head in disbelief. "It... Come here, Bo. Follow me."

I clutch the key in my hands so hard that it makes an imprint on my skin, and then I follow Julie into the house. She sprints into her bedroom with me not far behind her, and starts digging into her closet. I peer around her into a mess of clothes and boxes all over the closet floor.

"It's right here!" She yells, and laughs joyously as she holds it out to me.

Its a white jewelry box with a few dents in its wood and soft, worn down edges. There's a little handle to pull out a draw, and above the handle, a key hole.

I look up at Julie.

"That box has been in this room forever, Bo. I always wondered why your father left it here when he took everything else, and I figured, he was a brilliant man, right? He needed someone to open it, us to open it, and you found the key... Maybe he needed you to open it..." She stares at me. "Come on, Bo. This could be important." Honestly, Julie is in her early forties, but she has more of a youthful personality than I do.
I had talked to her about finding my father before, but I never realized that she actually had a clue that he left, like I did.

I take a deep breath and slip the key into the hole.

I turn it.

It clicks.

Julie lets out a breathy laugh and a tear runs down her cheek. It seems ridiculous, but I realize that I'm crying, too. This box is what I've been wondering about for years, I can feel it. The adrenaline pumps through my veins and I hold my breath. My arms are trembling as I feel the handle with the tips of my fingers and, very slowly, pull out the delicate wooden drawer. This is it.

Carved into the inside of the drawer in long, loopy handwriting reads:
"220 Maple Avenue, Chelsea, Vermont".

Julie can't get me out to the car fast enough.

The next four hours are filled with quick rest stops, gas fill-ups and a lot of rain against the front windshield of Julie's black Honda. We end up on a muddy dirt road lined with lots of trees, and I can see people through the windows of their houses as we pass. The sky is dark, but the rain starts to pass and I can see the moon and bright stars peeking through the clouds if I look out the car's skylight.

"Are we sure this is safe?"

Julie doesn't take her eyes off the road. "Not really," she says. "But it's too late to turn back now. Welcome to Maple Avenue."

The car’s wheels swerve and I’m pressed up against the window as we turn. I watch as we pass a green sign labeled “Maple Ave” and it slowly disappears into the dark until I can’t see it anymore.

“Two twenty,” I say. “Two twenty...”

And before I know it, we’re stopping in front of a two story wood house with white shudders and a white door and a few letters on the mailbox reading 220.

Thick green curtains are drawn behind the windows, but I can see that the house’s lights are on. I look back at Julie, who’s pale and wide-eyed, then I open the door of the car and step out. Julie’s still in the car, frozen, reflecting exactly how I feel inside right now. I stand in the moist air for a few seconds, and when it’s clear that she isn’t going to be following me, I head up the front steps of the house. The door looks bigger than it should and the railings on the deck seem to be closing in. Is this really a good idea? Am I sure this is where I’m supposed to be? I nip at my lower lip and then quickly knock before I can get the sense to stop myself, because deep down I know all the things that could go wrong from here.

I turn around and see Julie leaning up against the side of the car. I wave at her, and she nods at me. “Are you coming?” I say.

“N-No, I-“ and then she stops talking and her mouth drops open. Lights spills out onto the wooden platform at my feet.

I hold my breath and slowly turn around.

“Hello, there,” I hear.

There’s a woman standing at the door. Her dark brown hair is glistening and her eyes are deep blue…

Like mine.



“Um, I- I… M-My name is Bo…” I stammer, and start to entwine my fingers with each other. She doesn't say anything. “Do you… do you have a daughter?” I blurt. There's no way this woman is my mom, that was too easy...

The woman looks stunned at first, and then confused, and then stunned again as she stares at my face. “No, I’ve never had a daughter… Bo… Where have I heard that name before?” I fidget as she stares at me, and then she smiles until it looks like she’s hurting her cheeks.

“Oh my gosh,” she mumbles and presses her hands over her mouth.

“Michael!” she shouts into the house. “Michael! Come see this!”

Michael is my dad’s name.

And just like that, a familiar head of feathery brown hair and bright blue eyes step into view, just like I'd always imagined they would.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next three hours were probably the most hectic minutes of my life. At first I was hysterically crying, along with my father and Julie and my four aunts and uncles who introduced themselves to me. Aunt Kathy, who had opened the door for me, was completely overjoyed because she finally got to meet her niece. And in the second hour, my whole body was shaking with rage as I pointed fingers at my father for leaving me for four whole years without a real parent and no idea where he had disappeared to. After my tantrum had caused a sufficient amount of chaos and I calmed down a little bit, everyone left the room except my dad so he could explain everything to me... That talk took up most of the third hour. And I swear, in those four years that he was missing, I had longed for the truth. But once he told me, I didn't think I could handle it.

It turns out that there was a history of leaving family members behind.
My grandparents had left the oldest sibling (Uncle Joey) in charge of the other four when Joey had just turned 20. They couldn't afford to have four children, so they bolted, and no one even knew where disappeared to. So a little after I was born, my aunts and uncles had all set out to find their parents. They wanted my dad to come with them, but he declined. So they told him that they weren't sure where they were going, but if he ever wanted to see them, they could be found under the name "Seven Diamonds". My dad wasn't sure what his brothers and sisters were going to do in order to find their parents, or why it was so secretive that he could only reach them by code name, but he had an infant to take care of and couldn't be bothered with it. Not to mention how my mother left us shortly after that.
So my dad's assignment from the CIA, to track down that gang called the Seven Diamonds, had been a lie. There was no gang. My father's siblings left him alone, just like he left me, with a clue that he needed to decipher if he ever wanted to see them again.

My dad was the youngest and as I mentioned, he also had me to take care of. But after they left, with a little help from some friends, my dad started working for the CIA. If he was going to earn enough money to support me as a single parent while he tracked down our family, joining the agency was the best way to do it. So he spent his days searching for the "Seven Diamonds", which he played up as a dangerous gang and international threat. Suddenly I started to piece back my childhood, how Dad never told me much about the gang and how he spent so much time working and how he got so discouraged when there weren't any real breakthroughs on his case. And then when he finally found their location, he left. At first I was angry that he didn't take me, but then Dad held up a hand and told me to listen, so I quieted down and let him talk.

He was searching for my mother. He had figured each of the "Seven Diamonds" was a person in the family. So if the first four were his siblings, and he was the fifth, and I was the sixth, my mother must have been the seventh... Because none of his siblings had ever gotten married. I guess that was the real reason he took finding the family so seriously... Because he wanted to find my mother and bring her back so the three of us could be a family again. It made sense that my mother would be with them, too, because she had left us around the same time.

My dad was right. When I was a baby, my aunts and uncles had gotten in touch with my mom. They knew that they wouldn't find my grandparents without the help of my father. But they also knew that he had no interest in joining their search. So, they asked my mother to help bring him to them. My mother, wanting to bring the family together again, agreed to leave. She knew that Dad would eventually figure out that she was with them and come get her, which would give his siblings the opportunity to see him in person. After he traveled such a far distance to find his wife, they thought he would agree more easily to helping them find their parents who had been gone for so long. Of course, my mother didn't want to leave me, but she knew I'd be in better care with my father than with her if she was going to be traveling. So that's how I ended up alone with my father, living my whole life with him just telling me that she had left, and nothing else. I guess that my father hadn't even known exactly why she left at the time. But then he tried replacing our porch lamp one morning and found the key to my mother's jewelry box tucked behind it. Inside of the jewelry box, written in my mother's signature loopy scrawl, was the same location that I had found... Right where she'd left it for him to find, in a place that only he would look. She must have known that my aunts and uncles would be getting into a bit of trouble, and she didn't want anyone else to find them.

This was the chance my father had been waiting for to finally bring my mother back to us. And a few days later, at six a.m., one of my dad's friends from work called. Dad was being charged with espionage and for lying to his superiors about the Seven Diamonds case... Which his boss somehow found out that he lied about. Before he could be taken into custody, he scribbled down a note for me in case he didn't return from Chelsea, Vermont, so that I could find him. He left in a hurry that morning.

And after he left, he did end up finding my mother. He said that seeing her again was one of the best moments of his life, and she was crying because she never thought it would take so many years for him to come and get her. However, he was also infuriated with them all and refused to help his siblings search for their parents. His friend from work called him later that day to warn him again about the warrant out for his arrest, and that's when he decided to stay with his wife and sisters and brothers (despite how angry he was with them) instead of coming back home. He knew that our family would never be the same if I had a father locked up in jail, so the best option was for him to hide until I found him and then he, my mother and I could all live together again. I found that part a little bit ironic, because I ended up living without a father for four years anyway.

And in those four years, I had left my father's note pressed up to the back of my drawer where it collected dust, while he waited for me in Vermont and couldn't risk coming back. I knew I should have figured out the letter sooner, but then again, maybe I was meant to find the key to my mother's jewelry box on that rainy day.

I looked out the window and snuggled up to the side of the pale green couch, with my father beside me. After about ten minutes of sitting in silence (with him a bit out of breath from telling me the story so quickly) we heard a loud creak as the front door opened in front of us. I felt my dad get up from the couch, and then my mother walked into the house wearing a yellow raincoat and dripping all over the hardwood floors.



I heard once that there's a time and place for everything to happen. Even though the future isn't here yet, your life is already set in stone and there's nothing you can do about it. Fate has decided what path you're going to take and exactly when you're going to take it... Well, I'm here to tell you that that isn't true. For four whole years I had a clue telling me where my father was, but I was waiting for fate to explain it to me. If I hadn't finally thought about the note that day and connected the dots myself, nothing would be as it is now. Where I am now is on a swing in the backyard of a house in Vermont, with my dad by the grill cooking a summer dinner and Julie looking over his shoulder to make sure he doesn't burn the burgers like he did last time. Inside the house are my four aunts and uncles, who love to tell me stories about growing up on the farm with my dad. And right beside me, cross legged in the green grass and humming a slow, pretty tune, is my mother.


“Below the place the water flows, you’ll find a key beside the glow.”

And in that moment, as I pushed back on the swing, I realized something that I would never forget. It turns out that while I was waiting for fate to change my life, fate had been waiting for me to change my own.