Chapter #15The Closet Case by: Seuzz   You start to raise the window, then catch yourself. There's still the screen you'd have to get through, and you'd probably break the hedge all to pieces if you tried climbing out.
And then, how would you get the window closed and screen fastened back? If Roberta comes in, she would certainly catch you before you got away, and even if she didn't the driver of that car would see you.
But most of these rationalizations occur to you only afterward, when you're standing in her closet, holding your breath and trying not make a sound as Roberta, on the other side of the door, rummages through her room. Really, it was just a flash of instinct that said, Stupid move, Will, as you put your hand on the window latch.
* * * * *
What is she doing out there? you wonder in your panic as Roberta moves about. She's been at it for, like, an hour, it feels, though you know it's probably closer to only a minutes.
Your first instinct was to dive under the bed, but then you remembered how dusty it was under there, and how it made you sneeze. Your second instinct was to go for the closet, but you froze because that seemed like the first place she might look inside if she came back into her room. So on third instinct you glanced back at the bed, and when on fourth instinct you opened the closet door and found that it wasn't even a walk-in closet, it was more of a coat closet, so you had to override your fifth instinct to go for the bed, and go with your sixth instinct, which was to slip into the closet after all.
It is filled with dresses, and after pulling the door softly shut, you pushed your way into a back corner and slid the dresses over to put as many of them as possible between you and the door. Still, you can see the door over the top of the rack, so anyone who opens it will be able to see you, even if they don't see your calves and shoes, which are fully exposed below the hems of those dresses. Your only hope of not being discovered, then, is if Roberta doesn't open her closet door.
You just had time to suck in a deep, terrified breath before you heard her bedroom door open and slide back across the carpet. Bedsprings creaked, and you heard a crackle of papers being shuffled. Then a very long silence. You tried to keep your own breath to nearly nothing (even as your pulse was pounding and your lungs were bursting) as you heard someone talking very softly to themselves on the other side of the door. Eventually came the swish and hiss of curtains on runners.
That was bad enough, but soon came worse: the sound of dresser drawers sliding open and shut.She's looking through her dresser! you thought. What if she notices the mask is gone? You are holding it your slippery hands, and you grip it closer. True, the mask was under all of her jeans, but suppose she digs deep for a special pair of jeans, or what if she is even looking for the mask now?
Then your heart almost explodes through your throat when you hear voices: muffled, but clear enough to understand.
"Yes, can I help you?" Roberta asks in a very brusque and business-like tone.
"Ah, just killin' time, waitin' fer my friend." That would be Shane.
"Can you tell him to hurry up? I need to pee too."
"Uh ... sure. Where's you and Zion going?"
"Old Navy."
"Oh. So—"
There comes again the sound of a door sliding over the carpet, followed by a thump. Roberta says something under her breath.
Bed springs creak again. A moment later there's a soft knock on a door, and you shudder hard. "What?" Roberta shouts.
"Bathroom's clear!"
"Good!" Roberta mutters more to herself. Footsteps. A door opening and sliding over carpet. Then silence.
Almost you faint. But even with sweat drizzling down your brow and face, and your knees creaking from standing so still, you manage to keep on your feet.
From far off, finally, you hear a noise that sounds like another door closing. You dare to let yourself relax a tad, and lean back, putting your shoulders against the wall—
Your phone goes off, sounding like a dozen xylophones clattering down a flight of stone steps. Almost you scream. What if that had gone off while Roberta was out there?
Then: What if she is out there and I just don't know it?
Frantically, you feel for it in, and thumb it into silence.
You listen. Everything is quiet.
And you dare to check the phone. It's a text from Shane: Come out lets go
You're shaking all over when you emerge from the closet and totter from the bedroom. You didn't find your book, but you just want to be out there before Roberta comes back!
* * * * *
There's no one in the living room when you emerge, and you have to hunt through the rest of the house before finally finding Shane and Mrs. Barr out in the tiny garage, where she's talking at him at about a mile a minute. The big door is up, but the air inside is still oppressive and smells of gasoline and grass clippings, probably on account of the lawn mower wedged up against the back wall. Shane breaks off from listening to Mrs. Barr long enough to nod at you and grunt, "Oh, there y'are, man. I'm about ready to go."
"Well, I won't keep you," Mrs. Barr says, "that's got to be enough." Shane nods, and off a narrow work table he picks up a cardboard box. "I don't know why Roberta didn't tell me this clothing drive," Mrs. Barr continues before interrupting herself. "Oh! And there's a recycling center outside the Good Will, right?"
"Yes'm, I think so."
"Could you—?" She crosses to a tall cabinet and opens the door at the top. "Recycling doesn't pick up plastic bags, I don't know why, so I keep collecting these things because paper bags are such a pain." From the top shelf she pulls down a puffy white plastic bag, about the size and shape of a small tumble weed. Tufts of other plastic bags sprout from its mouth. "But I know they take these at the recycling centers. So when you run by there—"
The rest of what she says gets lost as you stare with pop eyes at the cabinet door she just closed. In the brief moment between when she pulled her bag of bags down, and when she shut the door, you saw something red and rectangular inside. Like a book.
Then Shane is talking. You're still not paying attention until he says, "Uh, you coming, uh, Martin?"
"Yeah!" You shake yourself from your shock. Mrs. Barr turns to beam at you, and you—
Oh shit. You shift the mask you're clutching to your other hand so you can shake hers. You are wobbly on your feet as you follow Shane out.
Then, halfway down the driveway to the street, you pause and glance back. The garage door is still up, but the garage is empty. You fancy seeing the doorway leading into the house just clicking shut.
For half a second you are frozen in a heart-sickening paralysis.
Then you scamper back into the garage and tear that cabinet door open. You don't even pause to look, you just pull down the red leather book sitting high on that shelf and slam the door shut again. Shane, standing by his rear bumper, is giving you a puzzled look as you come sprinting back to meet him. You tear open the passenger-side door and leap into his car. "Let's get the fuck outta here!" you pant as he, more sedately, climbs in behind the wheel.
* * * * *
So, Shane doesn't blame you for not dropping stuff outside the window, like he told you, and only congratulates you on getting away with carrying that "thing" out of the house without Mrs. Barr noticing it. "Jesus, that was almost a clusterfuck," he mutters as you're driving away. Roberta, he explains, just had to come home to change before heading out with Zion on his errands. "And where was you?" he asks.
"The closet."
"Christ. Yah should'a gone under the bed."
"I got away with it, didn't I?"
"Sure. And what didja get away with? What izzit?" He jerks his chin at your two spoils: the mask and the book.
And yes, when you finally checked it after Shane pulled away from Roberta's house, it is the book she took from you.
Shane seems content when you tell him that it's that old, priceless book you wanted back, plus something you made with it and showed to Roberta. But he is still curious about why she'd take it from you and not give it back.
The simplest thing to tell him that is that she was just being stubborn—maybe she was being "flirty" with you. It seems like the kind of thing she would do, and he'd probably buy it and then forget about it.
But he might mention this adventure to her, just to brag. You don't know what Roberta could do to you after she finds out what you did to get the stuff away from her again, but it would be better if you could trust Shane not to say anything to her at all.
And maybe you could get him to keep his mouth closed if you showed him the mask and the book, and told the full story about them.
Besides, he seems like he could be cool with it.  indicates the next chapter needs to be written. |
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