Gerald discovered that the bronze key's power of transformation was not absolute. No matter where he donned a piece of wardrobe gathered from Maxine's closets, the key's power disguised him as the clothing's original owner. No matter how many miles separated that box of coats and pants from Maxine's home, the key morphed Gerald with a burning sensation against his chest. But the charm worked only with those gloves and scarfs, shirts and slacks that Gerald had gathered from Maxine's closets. Wearing a pair of steel-toed boots Gerald had borrowed from his brother Pete to help with weed-eating failed to motivate the key to any magic. Gerald did not turn into a tall, superstar athlete when he donned the old football jersey a professional quarterback had once worn before signing and giving to Gerald. The key worked only with articles of clothing connected in some way with the memories of Maxine.
"I hope the ghosts forgive me." Gerald frowned as he donned another article of clothing taken from Maxine’s home. A stranger’s face peered back at him from within the mirror. "But it's not right for Tony to take Maxine away like he did. Not right to have taken her from her home."
Gerald took a deep breath. Would Maxine see his true face? Would she comment upon how the black dye faded to show the ugly gray of his real beard? Would Maxine see through the magic Gerald hoped would disguise him from others? Or would Maxine's vision also be fooled by the small key's magic, or worse, would she fail to recognize any of the faces Gerald donned at all?
"I'm afraid, Maxine, that I'm not going to make it easy on you. I hope your memory hasn't faded too far."
Gerald unfolded the articles of clothing from that cardboard box and set them across his apartment's living room floor, trying to judge the pieces that would work best for his plan. He needed a disguise that Tony would not recognize should he arrive at the retirement home to check on his mother while Gerald was visiting. Gerald needed to wear a face Tony would not recognize from some snapshot taped into a photo album. Gerald didn't dare assume the guise of anyone he himself recognized, but such strategy would not guarantee that Tony would not know the face of whatever glamour Gerald chose for a mask.
Gerald's fingers rubbed the bronze key as he considered a pair of brown, leather dress shoes. The shoes were not a snug fit, but Gerald could at least slip his feet into the soles, would be able to walk some distance before the leather might blister his ankles. He had expected to see one of Richard's faces looking back at him from the mirror. Instead, Gerald looked upon a stranger's face. Gerald suspected the face could've belonged to one of Maxine's cousins or uncles. He had not realized how little he knew of Maxine's family before witnessing the key's power. Could the face that winked back at him in the polished glass have belonged to an unknown lover, the face of an affair during those golden years with Richard that Gerald so envied? Gerald wondered if Maxine held regrets of her own.
Gerald hoped he would have the opportunity to ask Maxine of those regrets. He hoped he would have the luck to find some time alone with her, so that he might step out of those brown shoes and show his life's love his true face should she fail to see through the magic. He hoped that Maxine's heart would not flutter upon witnessing such magic.
The gray sky looked heavy enough to fall as Gerald loaded that box of clothing taken from Maxine's home back into his car's trunk. Gripping the cold, small key at the end of that purple strand of yarn, Gerald prayed that snow and ice would not turn the highway treacherous.