A Pocket for Keys

The skin and flesh protecting the heart of one Oskar Schell is really quite delicate. The freeze of metal only slightly less comfortable than the stickiness of the bandaid. In the book, Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close, the youngest Schell even states that he would like a traveling pocket, for situations like the metallic key bumping against his chest. Again. And Again.
There is a simple solution for things that you want to keep close, but removed. A pocket on the inside of a shirt remedies the problem nicely. The outside would be embroidered to hide the stitching, in white thread against white fabric, only visible when it glimmers in the light. Perhaps of a bird, or a body, a heart or a key.
Throughout the book, he expresses a need to be close but far. He wants understanding without proximity or maybe proximity without understanding. A slip of fabric between his skin and a key may only be a metaphor for this, or perhaps more accurately, a physical manifestation of that desire, but it is a need none the less. Comfort. Saftey. Proximity. These are several needs that Oskar displays throughout the book, several needs that he tries incredibly hard to meet. 
A slip of fabric would protect him. Another slip of fabric, embellished with fancy stitchery, would protect the things he holds dear.