Mina and the Star Key, Part 2: The Little Door in the Stump

Mina and the Star Key, Part 2: The Little Door in the Stump

The Story Begins

The evening was quiet, and the garden smelled of grass. Mina walked along the low fence in her red boots. Her yellow cardigan stirred gently in the evening breeze.

Something in her pocket gave a tiny clink.

Mina stopped and smiled. “The Star Key,” she whispered.

She had had the little silver key since her first magical adventure. It was tiny, but a little star shone at its end. Today, it had moved all by itself in her pocket.

Piko buzzed above Mina’s shoulder. His little wings shimmered like warm golden leaves.

“Clink-clink,” he said happily. “I know that sound.”

Near the garden stood an old stump. It was wide and round, and soft green moss grew in its bark. Mina had seen it many times. But now something glimmered on the stump.

Piko flew closer and pointed with his wings at a small spot near a root.

“There?” Mina asked.

At first, there was nothing there. So Mina crouched down. She looked slowly, very closely. Between two strips of bark, she found a tiny round door. It had a handle as small as a pea and a lock in the shape of a star.

“A door in the stump!” she gasped.

Mina took out the key. For a moment, she held it in her palm. Then she carefully slipped it into the star-shaped lock.

Clink.

The little door opened softly.

Behind it was not an ordinary dark hollow. A soft green world waited there. The moss rippled in little folds, like small hills of blankets. Tiny drops gleamed on the walls of the stump, and the air smelled of rain.

Tiny golden lights flickered among the moss.

One glowed near the edge. Another hid beneath a moss leaf. A third rolled slowly over a soft little hill, and a fourth only blinked sleepily.

“They’re like little stars,” Mina said.

Piko landed on a patch of moss. At once, he sank into it a little, nearly up to his round belly.

“Soft,” he said contentedly.

But the lights did not look content. When one of them flashed, another rolled in the opposite direction. Then both stopped, as if they did not know where to go.

“I think they got mixed up,” Mina said.

She wanted to help them right away. She stretched both hands over the moss.

“I’ll gather you up,” she said. “And put you nicely together.”

But just then, the lights darted in every direction. One hid in a fold, another rolled behind Piko’s back, and a third gave a tiny shiver.

Mina quickly drew back her hands.

“Oh,” she said more softly. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to confuse you.”

Piko looked at the lights. Then he looked at Mina.

“Slowly,” he said.

That was all.

Mina was quiet for a moment. She breathed in through her nose and slowly breathed out. The mossy little chamber was still. All she could hear was the gentle peep-peep of one sleepy light.

Mina sat back on her heels and placed her hands in her lap. This time, she did not try to catch them.

After a while, the lights stopped rolling.

One of them suddenly shone a little brighter. Its golden light fell on a soft fold of moss to the left. In that fold, a small round hollow appeared, just the right size for the little light.

“Aha,” Mina whispered. “You’re looking over there.”

The little light blinked.

Very carefully, Mina held out her open palm. She did not close her fingers. She simply waited. The golden dot gently rolled into her palm all by itself. It was warm like a sunbeam on a windowsill.

Mina carried it to the hollow in the moss.

When Things Start to Change

When she placed the little light inside, the moss closed softly around it. The fold on the left shone with a calm golden glow.

“One is home,” Piko whispered.

Now Mina did not hurry. She watched the second little light. It blinked sleepily deeper in the moss. Each time it blinked, a small round opening glimmered there for a moment.

“Do you belong here?” she asked.

The little light blinked once more. Piko only nodded.

This one went to its own place too. Then came the third. It flashed most brightly beside a narrow moss bridge near the wall of the stump. It was not easy to spot at once, so Mina waited for a while. Only when Piko moved aside did she notice another soft hollow gleaming in his warm light.

“I can see you now,” she said.

At last, only the final tiny light remained. It hid beneath a moss leaf and glowed only faintly.

Mina leaned towards it, but kept her hands close to herself. “You don’t have to be afraid. We’ll wait.”

Piko did not move either.

For a little while, nothing happened. Then the moss leaf lifted gently. The little light appeared beneath it. It flashed once, then twice, and its glow pointed to the smallest fold, right beside the door.

“Your little place was there all along,” Mina said.

When she placed it in the moss, the whole little chamber lit up. Not brightly. Just softly and warmly, like a bedside lamp. All the little lights now glowed peacefully in their own folds.

The moss moved and covered them like a green blanket.

Piko stretched contentedly. “Good mossy night,” he said.

Mina laughed. “Good night, little lights.”

Then she stepped out of the little chamber. The small door closed softly behind her, and the old stump looked quite ordinary again. Only a soft golden glimmer shone for a moment from a crack in the bark.

Mina put the Star Key back into her pocket. It gave a tiny clink, as if it too were settling into its own place.

Piko landed on her shoulder, and together they went home. Above the garden, the first stars were already shining. Mina looked at them slowly and carefully.

In her pocket, the silver key quietly grew warm. Perhaps somewhere, more little doors were waiting.