The Key- The story of an average woman thrown into danger when she purchases what she believes is a souvenir in Mexico. 1321 words.

Essay by geoffersonHigh School, 12th gradeA+, November 2004

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The Key

It was the time of the winter solstice, and the musky odor of inexpensive incense filled the streets of a tourist inhabited Cozumel. Claire stroked her tattered red hair as she awoke from her daydream. Aside from her frizzled hair, Claire's fortune seemed to be devastated by the Mexican air.

Claire looked over her shoulder. The man through the window of the storefront was conspicuously familiar. It had seemed her 'friend' wasn't looking for cigars at all; his eyes were watching Claire in the reflection of the window.

A quick look to the streets and Claire raised her arm. A white battered Toyota peeled to a halt in front of her.

"Talum. Take me to the entrance of the ruins," blurted Claire as she dove into the dirty white taxi.

"Ah Senora, you wish to see the glory of my ancestors?"

"Yeah. Make it quick."

"Si, Senora. You want quick? 300 pesos for quick! You pay?"

"Do it."

The tires bit the gravel and spun into action. The furtive glance of the driver confirmed her intuition. He looked in the mirror and saw another taxi skew into traffic behind them.

"We have company, Senora. They are friends?"

Claire looked over her shoulder and saw her 'friend' situated in the back seat of the other taxi. She could see the scar wandering across his cheek from the thirty yards that separated them.

"He's not my friend, amigo. I need a friend right now. Can you help?"

"Miguel is ready. You wish to lose them?"

"Ditch'em and you get an extra 1000 pesos."

Miguel's foot fell in love with the accelerator. It was a dance of passion as his foot imitated a samba on the break and accelerator. The disfigured Toyota surprised even Claire as the dirty white land taxi...