'A Broken Lock' by Birgit K. Gaiser

Nikolai rinsed the small object the metal detector had found in the sandy riverbank. “It’s a lock.”

Teodora grabbed the lock from his hands. “The top has been snapped open!”

“Yeah,” Nikolai agreed. “But look, there’s something written on the back. A heart and… a name? Or two names.”

Together, they peered at the faded writing. Luckily, the body of the lock had been painted red, and hadn’t rusted. Still, much of the writing had faded.

Teodora grabbed her pad and took a photo of the fading letters, enlarged it and tried different filters and enhancements.

“Ivelina,” she said. “The bottom one definitely says Ivelina.”

“That’s old-style,” Nikolai giggled. “And the top one?”

“I’m not sure,” Teodora said. “Zlatko? Zitko?”

“Why write names on a lock?” Nikolai wondered. 

“I think it was on a cage. There were pets inside. And they were smart kept escaping. Maybe parrots. Or kittens!”

“Kittens aren’t that smart,” Nikolai said earnestly, remembering some of the videos from his padd. “They can’t even walk half of the time.”

“Cats then,” Teodora decided. “Or hamsters. Or guinea pigs. Or rabbits. Or turtles.”

“How is a turtle going to open a cage?” Nikolai asked. “Maybe it was puppies.”

“Okay. But why is the lock broken?” Teodora challenged him.

“That’s easy,” Nikolai, in full big brother mode now, explained. “Someone lost the key, and had to get a big cutter to open it. So they could feed the puppies.”

“And pet them!” Teodora added. She dropped the lock back onto the riverbank. “Let’s go home. I’m hungry.”

“And I,” Nikolai declared, “am going to ask for a puppy. I bet I could look after it better than the people who lost their key.”