Gatekeepers

"Gatekeepers have a big job," Donkey had himself straddled across the opening created by the turning of the key. The curious lambs were fast and agile and they had keen eyesight. Alex found his own flexibility as the smallest of them nosed under Donkey's straddled legs. "Well done. If you find yourself in need of work there's a shepherd's opening. I'd put in a good word for you." The humor of new acquaintances is a kind expression. There's plenty of room for it, and such a shame one had to dig around for it to find it. Alex had his arms full of fleecy animal, and with his right foot he managed to close the gate. Once on the inside, the lamb pirouetted to rejoin his sisters, or brothers, or cousins.

"The old cart hasn't been used for a very long time," Donkey stopped long enough for Alex to return the Sheep Key to its place around the animal's neck. Each of the keys dangled from a clasp that opened with a firm squeeze freeing a key independently, to allow the neck-piece to remain where it ought to be. "In his time, that cart has served many with intentions born from a broken heart. Yours would not be the first." To himself Donkey knew there would be other hearts needing the sturdy cart but he kept that insight to himself.

"I heard Camillia just before the gate opened. She was saying something about the color blue. It's not a thing I'd heard her say before so I'm not sure I heard her right."

"Blue. The old color of love." Donkey said. "It's something we know. Blue like water, deep ocean water or deep skies. Like those above the clouds. It's the color that reminds us how important water, and love is. 

"You know this ha?" 

"Oh yes. Now in that shed are all the tools you could possibly need to shore up the sides and bottom of the cart. You'll find them in good repair, unless ... well, you see for yourself when you get there. I have sheep, and lambs, to keep me busy and the farmer and his family like to check on things well before sunset. No one will bother you once you're in the shed, and there are a good many hours left before it's too dark to work. In addition to the tools you'll need the other two keys." Donkey waited for Alex to retrieve them. "Keep them safe."

"Safe?"

"Well yes, these are no ordinary keys my dear Alexander Santiago. Have you a length of rope or a chain?" Donkey hadn't seen any sign of either. "There might be some twine or copper coil in the shed. Copper would be my choice, even a short length enough to wrap around your wrist. Cinch the ends so they're secure and whatever you do don't lose either key. Good luck my friend, oh and one last thing."

Alex was not surprised there was something else.

"Before you keep your date with the old color of love, there is the small but vital issue of loitering needs righting. A certain Doug Fir has a piece of your story and he, that Doug Fir, is waiting for you and the sturdy cart. When you are content with the surety of your work, rub the two keys together and call me by name."

"So I rub the two keys together and call 'Donkey.'?"

"My true and proper name is hidden, until those with a broken heart cross the threshold. As you have done. To those who do so, my name is Don Pedro Salazar." Alex started to utter the name just to be sure he heard correctly.

"No!" Donkey kicked his hind legs. "Not yet. Only once and only when you are content with the surety of your work. Keep my name and those keys safe, Alexander Santiago." A subtle gauze not unlike spider silk dangling with dust circled the space from Donkey's ears to his chest. The look of a man with copper bracelets and a dusty leather hat. Alex blinked to gain focus. For those moments Don Pedro Salazar was a man as clearly present as was he.

"How fitting that your name and mine are so similar in origin. Coincidence?" Not likely, but then perhaps there was room for chance encounters. "Remember me Alexander Santiago." Don Pedro was gone. Donkey was gone.