No One Will Ever Find Out

No One Will Ever Find Out

  By E.A. Young

  Copyright 2001 E.A. Young

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  Chapter 1

  “Can’t you wait till I get my finger out before you put the tape on?” Tyrone snapped.

  “Sorry,” Kriston said.

  “Thank you.”

  My brothers and I huddled in our dimly lit basement and tried to wrap presents for Mother’s and Father’s Days. “Hold the tape up,” Tyrone said, folding the crumpled blue wrapping paper at one corner.

  Kriston peeled off a slip of tape and pressed it against the wrinkled edge.

  “I still don’t see why we have to do this in the basement when there’s more light up in the attic,” I said, rolling up the rest of the tissue paper.

  Terence shook his head and said, “I told you, we’d look too suspicious going upstairs first thing in the morning. What if they heard us?”

  So we had agreed to sneak down into the dark dreary pit. They figured that by us hiding in the basement, our parents would not find out about their gifts ahead of time.

  A draft of air swirled past my neck and I watched a spider web float across the corner of the room. I shivered.

  I wished Tyrone would hurry up and finish wrapping the presents. What if there was something living between that monster of a furnace and the dusty brick walls? This old basement could have been hiding a lot of secrets or traps or something worse.

  “You don’t want to blow this like you did the last time, do you Justine?” Tyrone asked sarcastically.

  I stared at him, my grimace showing eight years of torment. “What did I blow?”

  He belched and pulled off another long strip of tape.

  “You could have warned us, you know!” Nine-year-old Terence said, fanning the wrapping paper in the air.

  “Shhh!” Kriston, aged seven, whispered, keeping close watch of the staircase.

  I leaned toward Tyrone. “What did I blow?”

  “The birthday surprise we planned for Mom,” he explained. “We had the cake all ready; the ice cream was set; the balloons were coming . . . .”

  “The cake was half-cooked,” I interrupted. “You mixed all the different ice cream flavors together. If anybody ate anything they would’ve gotten sick. And you totally destroyed Mom’s kitchen.” I reminded him. “You think she would’ve enjoyed seeing that?”

  “It was your job to clean it up before she got home,” Terence explained. “We can’t depend on you when you cut us short like that, Justine.”

  Tyrone rocked his head. “She can’t take the pressure.”

  I stared at him. “What do you mean ‘I can’t take the pressure’?”

  “You were supposed to have everything straightened up before she got home. But, what happens? Mom walks in there and screams.” He pointed a strip of tape at me. “It was your responsibility to get rid of all that junk before she saw it. You blew it.” He leaned closer and whispered, “You can’t take the pressure.”

  I glared at my reflection in his brown eyes. I couldn’t think of anything to say. They totally destroy the kitchen, but it’s my fault?

  Terell, who was five years old, curled the ribbon around his forefinger. “Admit it Justine, you blew it for all of us. But that’s okay, we still love you.”

  Reaching for the storage box, I accidentally knocked the spool of tape out of Kriston’s hand. It rolled across the concrete floor and into a dark corner.

  “Now, see what you did?” Kriston scolded. “Go bring it back.”

  Sulking, I got up and walked around him.

  Then I froze. It was dark behind the large boxes that were stacked beside the washing machine and on top of the dryer. I couldn’t see where the tape had rolled. I moved one foot forward, pointing it toward the dark corner, when I heard a scratch from the pipes and strands of electrical wires roped across the ceiling.

  My skin felt as if invisible needles were pricking through it. I squatted back down in the circle my brothers had formed while wrapping the presents. “I couldn’t find it.”

  “This will do,” Tyrone announced, holding the box up. He began to peel off more red ribbon to cut.

  I glimpsed up at the small square window at the top of the brick wall, where our three huskies were sniffing at the windowsill. With deep thick chests, smoke-gray fur down their backs, and long, white, woolly undercoats, Precious, Princess, and King kept their heads low and watched our every move.

  “King!” Kriston called out, waving his hand. “Stop scratching the window frame.”

  “Shhh!” Terence protested. “Not so loud.” He walked over to the window and tapped a dusty old broomstick against the glass.

  King pressed his thick paws against the other side of the pane and wagged his furry tail, waiting for someone to let him in.

  I sighed with relief when I realized that the sound I had heard was only King scratching at the window. We didn’t play with the huskies much. They always slobbered kisses over everyone they knew, except for Clarence, Tyrone’s best friend. They never kissed him.

  We used to own Dobermans for protection, and they never bothered Clarence either. Our protectors ran away a long time ago. Pop still believed Clarence had something to do with them leaving.

  I glanced again around the basement. Our huge moving shadows created from the high ceiling light, clouded the walls. When I felt something brush against my shoulder, I looked, but nothing was behind me.

  Shivering, I turned to face my brothers and concentrated on putting the tissue paper back into the storage box. At least the huskies would protect me, I thought to myself, in case something did jump out from the dark.

  “Are you done yet?” Terell asked Tyrone. “Hurry up before Mom wakes up.”

  The ceiling light shone weak spotlights on top of their brown foreheads, on the edge of their noses, and the bottom of their chins. They didn’t pay any attention to the dark silence surrounding the outside of our circle, or what might have been lurking there. Wrapping presents was their only concern.

  I held the storage box closer and watched Tyrone loop the ribbon into a bow and tape it in the middle of the present.

  “That’s not how you do it,” Kriston explained and plucked the bow off.

  I looked again out the basement window at a crack of blue sky and streaks of white clouds drifting beyond the tall, thin blades of grass growing alongside the windowsill. A bumblebee landed on top of a blooming dandelion.

  I stopped shivering and felt a tingle run up my back.

  Soon, after being stuck behind fifth-grade desks all day waiting for the bell to ring, my friends and I would be free to run under that blue sky and into the warm spring air.

  Mother’s Day meant that summer had almost arrived and the rain would stop. Days would start to get warmer, and we could spend more time outdoors before the sun went down.

  Suddenly, the bumblebee flew off the dandelion and up into the sky.

  I knew that, just like the flowers that were coming out from where they had been hiding all winter, all of my summer plans would soon be in full bloom.

  I always saw the best show of flowers in mid-May. The warm weather made everything open up, and when wearing lighter clothes, I could start to feel the wind against my skin.

  “Okay, now where do we hide Pop’s?” Terell asked, sitting on a 20-pound bag of dog food.

  Mom’s present was ready. It was an optic fiber flower
lamp that glowed pretty colors. Pop’s present was what Tyrone considered the perfect Father’s Day gift: a psychedelic colored T-shirt. I thought I had missed some private talk among them because I couldn’t figure out where Tyrone would get an idea like that for a present. Every time I decided on a gift, they would always tell me how wimpy it was and then go pick out something else. This time they decided without me.

  We always saved enough money to buy both Mother’s and Father’s Day presents at the same time. That way we wouldn’t let Pop down in case we became short on cash when his holiday arrived.

  “Hide his in Terence and Tyrone’s room,” I replied, getting up. “Just put it anywhere, he’ll never find it.”

  Glad to leave that spooky place, I clicked off the basement light.

  We went up the stairs to look for Mom. She was still pregnant. Somebody must have miscalculated because 10 months had passed and still nothing had happened. She had been back and forth to the hospital, and the doctor said the baby could be born at any time.

  We were still waiting.

  “Let Austin hold it,” Terence directed Kriston after we placed the storage boxes inside the hall closet.

  Kriston gave the present to Austin.

  “Don’t swing it,” Terence instructed Austin. “Hold it up in front of you.”

  Austin, the youngest at three, hugged the large present with both arms as Kriston, using his knees, gently butted him up the stairs.

  “It’ll be the greatest Mother’s Day gift she ever got,” Tyrone exclaimed. “Man, I’m good.” He patted himself on the back.

  “You wouldn’t have picked this if they weren’t sold out of soap on a rope,” Kriston criticized.

  Tyrone took a swipe at Kriston and missed.

  “Not so loud,” I told them.

  When we reached the top of the stairs, I could hear water splashing in the bathroom sink. The fresh scent of soap drifted down the hallway.

  I was used to the sound of water splashing because I had been hearing rain hitting the roof and windows for weeks. But soon the rain will stop and we won’t be stuck indoors all day waiting for the sun to come out. Soon we will put the raincoats away and be free like that bumblebee to go wherever we wanted, to the park or zoo. We will have weekend barbecues in our backyard, stay overnight at Grandma’s because we didn’t have to get up for school the next day, visit the carnivals when they come to town, take cold snacks with us to the playground on the hottest days, go for car rides. I could skate up and down the sidewalk.

  “What are you smiling at?” Terence asked me as we headed toward our parents’ room.

  I didn’t answer him. I just let my secret thoughts carry me away down the hall.

  We’d start going to the beach and amusement parks again. Ducking under gigantic waves, we’d ride the flumes and get splashed: that was what summer was all about.

  “Wait up a second,” Kriston called and tossed Pop’s gift into the older boys’ room. The present landed on top of the clothes and toys piled on their floor. “Okay, let’s go.”

  We snuck down the hall and into our parents’ bedroom.

  Mom was buried under the bed-sheet, her huge belly rising each time she breathed. I wondered if the baby could feel her breathing. The mattress sagged under Mom’s back. How could she hold all that weight? How could the bed hold all that weight?

  Terell leaned over Mom’s face.

  “She still ‘sleep?” Kriston asked him.

  Terell was studying her hard. “Yep,” he said.

  I lifted Austin, still holding the present, and handed him to Terence. He placed him beside Mom, and then I tickled her feet.

  She moaned and after a few more tickles, pushed the sheet back and saw us surrounding her.

  “Happy Mother’s Day!” we cheerily greeted her.

  “Ooh!” she cried, trying to sit up. “I forgot all about Mother’s Day.” She plucked a tissue off the nightstand and rubbed it against her nose.

  How could she forget about Mother’s Day after having six kids and with another on the way?

  Austin gave her the present. She peeled the wrapping paper off, lifted the box flap, and pulled out the glass vase.

  A heavy sigh. “This is beautiful,” she whispered, turning the vase to fully view the flower arrangement inside.

  “Plug it in,” Terence beckoned.

  Tyrone straightened the cord and searched for an outlet behind the bed.

  I switched on the vase and tiny square dotted lights blinked along the edge of the flowers.

  “Where in the world did you find this?” she asked.

  “We saw it at the mall,” Kriston said.

  Mom watched the colored lights blinking. “My babies,” she cried and hugged everybody.

  “Celeste, did you see wh-” Pop froze right at their bedroom door. He stared at the present and then his eyes bulged and the skin above his nose crinkled, almost as if he were getting ready to cry.

  “I think we should go,” I whispered, remembering all the poor choice of gifts Pop had to receive in the past. I felt terrible that my brothers and I could never agree on a special gift for Pop.

  “Ah, yeah, Ma,” Terence said, giving Mom a quick kiss.

  We all kissed her and rushed out fast as Pop’s bulging eyes swung from the present, to Mom, and then back to us.

  After we left their bedroom, Terence whispered, “His face was acting funny again.”

  “It’s not our fault Mother’s Day comes first,” Kriston exclaimed, while galloping down the hall.

  “Shhh!” we told him, in case they had been able to hear us.

  “See?” I whispered to Tyrone. “If you’d let me pick something out once in a while, he wouldn’t be this upset.” I elbowed him in the rib. “I could pick out something nice instead of all that junky mess you keep getting him.”

  “Tch!” Tyrone responded. “Yeah, right.” He knocked the basketball out from under the hall table and kicked it at Kriston. It missed and added another dent into the wall.

  “Nnaah, nnaaah!” Kriston spun around and gave Tyrone the tongue. Austin raced for the ball behind Kriston and got caught up in Kriston’s legs. Kriston came down with a bang but missed Austin by a foot.

  I left them to battle it out and slipped into my room to change into my shorts and grab my house keys.

  Compared to all the disgusting presents Pop had to put up with in the past, I could understand why he would get upset. I wish my brothers would stop deciding for me and let me choose a gift for a change.

  I stepped over board games and searched for house keys on my cluttered desk. I wrapped the gray coil key holder around my wrist and jiggled the keys. Then I noticed the stack of unread schoolbooks still scattered on the desk underneath crinkled loose-leaf paper. I hopped out of the room quick, knowing that they would still be there when I returned.

  Outside, Austin and Terell sprinted toward the backyard. Kriston headed down one side of the street. Terence and Tyrone headed down the other.

  I went next door to get my friend Courtney. We had plans to take the bus into Washington, D.C., to see Cheri, who had sprained her ankle in ballet class. Her mom had her bedridden for a week.

  I knocked on the front door. “Courtney,” I called. “You in there?”

  A window creaked open. “Justine?”

  I took two steps back and saw Courtney’s head sticking out of their upstairs hall window. “You coming down?” I asked.

  “You come up first,” she instructed me and shut the window.

  I pushed the door open and ran upstairs. “Hi,” I said after I entered her bright pastel bedroom.

  Every piece of furniture looked as though it had just been cleaned and polished. Even the air smelled fresh.

  Courtney couldn’t stand a messy room.

  “Would you hand me my scissors?” she asked.

  I grabbed the pair from her plastic tool case on her bookshelf.

  A huge globe, a pencil case, a basket of rulers, and an inch-high stack of lo
ose-leaf paper were neatly spaced out on her top bookshelf. On the lower shelf, a container of glue, a box of markers, and a stack of construction paper sat next to the thickest dictionary I’d ever seen.

  The shelf on the other wall was loaded with 20 collections of classical literature she hadn’t even read. She said she had them there “just in case.” A row of encyclopedias lined the bottom shelf. Next to the books sat a basket of fancy pink and green stationary, as crisp and clean as on the day she first got them.

  I watched Courtney, her thick black bangs dangling low, add the finishing touches to her mom’s present.

  She snatched a spool of tape off her neatly arranged desk. “This thing’s getting on my nerves,” she declared. “I still can’t get it right.” She folded the wrapping paper at an angle, smoothing the ends. It looked a lot better than Tyrone’s wrapping job.

  I sat down on her bed. “What is it?”

  “It’s a purse, handkerchief, and umbrella set,” she said, pearl black eyes peeking through strands of hair. “Lavender.”

  “It’s pretty wrapping paper,” I told her.

  “Yeah,” she agreed. “What did you give your mom?”

  “A flower arrangement in a glass vase. It blinks tiny colored lights.”

  “Did you wrap it yourself or have someone do it for you?”

  “We did it ourselves.”

  “Did you use the clear tape so that it wouldn’t show?”

  I narrowed my eyes. “Don’t remember.”

  “That’s the best kind,” she informed me. “It doesn’t cover up the designs on the wrapping paper.” She placed her last strand of tape across the edge and brushed it with her fingernails. “Well, as long as it was wrapped up nicely,” she said. “That’s the important part.” She carried her gift out into the hall. “When Tanya comes, will you let her in?”

  “Yeah.”

  Mom hadn’t looked upset about the kind of tape we had used. She didn’t even look like she cared that the wrapping paper was all wrinkled. She said that our present was beautiful, so I guessed that we had done all right.

  I looked over at Courtney’s chestnut dresser covered with a lacy pink doily. Red, purple, green, and blue storage totes were lined up on the floor in one corner. Sunlight from the window sparkled against the handles of the chestnut desk that sat in the far corner. Many times I’ve watched Courtney polish that desk.

  A light breeze blew in through the open window, waving the sandy-colored, lace curtains. I slipped my shoe off and dug my toes into Courtney’s smooth, deep blue carpet and pretended that I was already at the beach in front of the ocean.

  After coming upstairs, Tanya joined me on the bed, her short curly brown hair playfully reflecting the ceiling light. “What’s Cheri got planned today?” she asked.

  “Nothing,” I told her. “What can she do with a sprained ankle?”

  “Get check-ups from Dr. Jones!” Tanya joked, grinning.

  I looked at her. Tanya had a serious crush on every guy she saw, who had a slight chance of being cute, whether she knew him or not. Courtney didn’t believe Tanya was boy-crazy; she thought Tanya was just plain crazy.

  “At least with a sprained ankle, she doesn’t have to worry about getting any shots,” Tanya said, as she hopped up to look at herself in the full-length mirror that hung on Courtney’s closet door. She straightened out the ruffles on her light-green blouse. “But, still, it’s too bad we can’t go with her for any more checkups.”

  “I never went with her in the first place,” I told her, hating the thought of seeing any doctor.

  “I know,” she said. “I kept inviting you to come, but you kept saying ‘no.’”

  I watched Tanya adjust her dark-green skirt. I could never figure out why she felt she always had to investigate everything, especially if a boy was involved. That’s mostly what got her into trouble. She never liked to think that she was missing out on something important, and to her, boys were important. If she lived with five brothers like I did, I wonder if she would be so interested.

  “Come on. Let’s go,” she said, re-tying her dark-green hair ribbon.

  “We have to wait for Courtney.”

  Just then, Courtney, frowning, slumped back into the room.

  “What happened?” I asked her.

  “She loved it,” Courtney mumbled. “Come on. Papi’s in one of his moods again.” She snapped the light switch off. “I don’t know why he gets such an attitude on Mother’s Day. Father’s Day is next month.”

  Tanya and I looked at each other. Why is it so hard for everybody to pick out a decent Father’s Day gift? Nobody seems to know what their own fathers like. What would my Pop like?

  We dashed down the staircase and out the front door. Rows of colorful houses lined the hilly streets that lead to the bus stop. A few early risers greeted the morning with us. Birds darted from tree to tree, crossing over our path.

  Courtney and Tanya were walking on my left, near the curb, so while they walked a straight line, I was forced to dodge the bushes and branches that poked out from front lawns.

  “Whew!” Courtney said, brushing her forehead with the back of her hand. “I hope Cheri’s apartment is still air-conditioned.”

  Two drops of sweat ran down my forehead, down my neck, and all the way to my stomach, announcing more days of hot weather. The sun hadn’t been so strong in a long time. My skin was tingling from the heat.

  Walking under blossoming trees, I lifted my face to soak up the hot breeze as it filtered through the branches and shook the leaves.

  “Look,” Tanya said, pointing to a fully clothed little kid running under a lawn sprinkler.

  “It’s one of the rules of summer,” Courtney said. “The weather gets hotter, and you feel a stronger pull toward the water.” She waved her hand in front of her face. “You have to get wet in order for your body to stand the heat. Everybody knows that.”

  “Yeah, but he’s getting his clothes all dirty,” Tanya pointed out.

  The little boy slapped his wet pants and waved his hands in the air and grinned. He tried to catch the crystal-clear water sprinkles in his mouth.

  I wanted to run under the sprinkles with him and swallow every drop too.

  “Oh, isn’t it a beautiful day?” Tanya sang as she twirled around in front of us.

  “Sure, if we didn’t have to go to school tomorrow,” Courtney said blandly.

  “It won’t be long before summer’s here,” Tanya stated. “Then there’ll be no more books, no more studying for tests, no homework....”

  No more uniforms, no heavy jackets, no hats and gloves. Soon it would be picnics, bike rides, camping out in the backyard, feeling the mist from sprinkles on front lawns, and eating ice cream on the front steps.

  Excitement was bubbling inside me and I couldn’t wait for summer to arrive. Suddenly, I started twirling around with Tanya. I wanted to get swooped up into that warm sunny air and float away with the clouds.

  “Cheri should be coming back to school soon,” Courtney said, interrupting my summer dance. “I heard Mami talking to Mrs. Simmins on the phone yesterday.”

  “I bet she can’t wait,” Tanya said seriously.

  We crossed the street and continued down the next block.

  “I’ve never seen anybody love school so much,” Tanya said.

  “Well, when you get all A’s of course you love it,” Courtney said as we trudged up the last hill.

  Because our school was in D.C., we walked this same route every weekday. I never liked this street. Everything in this part of the neighborhood reminded me of how close I was getting to school. The only difference was that we weren’t wearing our uniforms on a Sunday.

  Most of the nuns in our school didn’t wear their uniforms anymore, but we still had to wear our school outfits. Only the librarian and principal wore long habits and veils.

  Courtney, Cheri, Tanya, and I had met way back in the first grade and four years later we were still best friends and still facing the same dai
ly tortures . . . . Wait a minute, I said to myself. Why was I thinking about school? It was Sunday, day of rest.

  “There’s our bus!” Tanya announced.

  The driver heard us screaming when we were still five houses away from the bus stop, so he waited.

  “I almost got another lecture,” Courtney said as she dropped her fare in the slot. “I don’t know why he gets so jealous when I give Mami something. It’s like he thinks the presents I give him aren’t good enough.” She narrowed her eyes and sat beside the window.

  “What’re you giving him for Father’s Day?” I asked, sliding into the seat next to her.

  “A cute little pair of patchwork shorts.” She beamed. “Orange, beige, green, and yellow. He’ll be so surprised.” She clasped her hands.

  My bottom jaw dropped. I feel sorry for him already.

  “I won’t have that problem when I get married,” Tanya said, sitting in front of us.

  “How do you know?” Courtney asked her.

  “He’ll already have everything,” she reassured us, patting her cheeks.

  I gazed out the window and tried to pretend that Tanya didn’t even exist.

  When we reached our stop, we hopped off the bus and walked over to Cheri’s block. Kids carrying assortments of flowers and fancy envelopes scurried between buildings. I figured that they were either excited about surprising their mothers or rushing to get the gift-giving over with.

  We headed down the path, closed in by green lawns and flower beds that led to the building’s entrance.

  “Justine,” Courtney called, stopping abruptly in front of Cheri’s building. “Wait a second.” She took a deep breath and raised her face upward to take in the size of the towering high-rise.

  Courtney had this thing about heights: If her destination was past the third floor she wouldn’t go inside the building. She always thought a building too tall might one day collapse from pressure, and she was not going to be in there when it happened.

  She had told me about her nightmare in which she was stuck in an elevator after the cables broke. I had blasted at her for waiting until we were in an elevator to tell me about her dream. The fact that Cheri lived on the 10th floor didn’t help our nerves either, but her view was nice compared to what Courtney and I saw from our bedroom windows in Alexandria.

  “Come on, Courtney,” Tanya said. “Close your eyes and I’ll hold your hand.”

  Courtney snorted at Tanya, took her last deep breath, and boldly marched into the lobby.

  I pushed the button and we waited. One elevator came, and as Courtney gripped the front of her tank top, a kid and a tall man in a dark suit stepped out.

  I followed Courtney inside and punched “10.” I watched her as she braced her back against the wall as the doors began to close behind me.

  I turned around. “Tanya!” I screamed and jammed my body between the doors.

  “Aaaahh! You’ll make us crash!” Courtney screeched, jumping up and down.

  “Will you get in here, please?” I demanded, pushing the doors back open.

  “Huh?” Tanya mumbled, still gazing at the man in the dark suit.

  “Come on!”

  She stumbled in as Courtney backed herself, shivering, into the corner again.

  Sighing and wiping more sweat off my forehead, I pressed “10” again. The doors shut completely.

  We went up while Courtney’s stomach stayed down. The doors slid open on Cheri’s floor, and Courtney was the first to run out. Cheri’s apartment was the farthest one from the elevators. Courtney had already rung the bell when Tanya and I got to it.

  “Hi,” Mrs. Simmins greeted after she opened the door. “Cheri’s in her room. She could use some company.”

  “Thanks,” Courtney said. “Happy Mother’s Day.”

  “Thank you!” Mrs. Simmins said, taking leave into the kitchen.

  The light from Cheri’s bedroom glowed at the end of the long dark hallway and made the corridor look like a tunnel.

  “Hi,” I said, peeking into her room. “How’re you feeling?”

  “Same as before,” she said sadly, sitting up in her oak bed. “I’m sick of being here. I want to be free.”

  Even though Cheri was temporarily crippled, she could have been posing for a picture. She was lying on top of a large blue quilted bedspread that matched the curtains. Her shoulder-length, dark red hair shined. Her right leg was wrapped in bandages and raised two pillows above the mattress.

  Cheri’s mom was so upset when Cheri sprained her ankle that she took her to the hospital that same day. But the doctor said that the injury wasn’t very serious, bandaged her up, and sent her home. Her mom had her bedridden anyway and wouldn’t let her go back to school the following week.

  I noticed Cheri’s textbooks and school supplies arranged neatly on the bedside table. Cheri didn’t have a bunch of books in her room like Courtney did; instead she had a library card.

  “I am so bored!” she hollered.

  “It won’t be that bad,” I remarked. “When that first day of freedom hits, you’ll be right there in first period, free like us.”

  “Who’s that guy living in your building?” Tanya asked.

  Cheri stuck her nose up. “What guy?”

  “That cute one in a business suit,” Tanya said, resting her hand on her hip.

  Courtney and I looked at each other and then sat on the edge of Cheri’s bed to wait for Tanya to finish another investigation.

  “Business suit?” Cheri questioned. “Oh, we’ve got new tenants upstairs.”

  “What floor?” Tanya asked.

  “11.”

  “What apartment?”

  “I don’t know!” Cheri retorted, rubbing her bandaged ankle. “I don’t live with them.”

  “What do you want to do today, Cheri?” Courtney asked, picking up a deck of cards from the dresser.

  “I’m sick of playing cards,” she said, “and I’m sick of watching that idiot box.” Her light brown eyes flashed.

  I thought only my parents called a TV set “an idiot box.”

  “And I’m sick of being stuck up here,” she complained. “I want to go outside with the other kids.”

  “You tell your mom that?” I asked her.

  “She says I can’t, but I can sit by the window,” she said disgustedly

  I glimpsed at the clear blue sky through the mini-blinds, which covered the whole window frame. With the dreary days of gray clouds and mist gone, it was bright and picture clear again. You could see buildings and trees miles away.

  I listened to the faint calls and shouts from kids playing down on the ground and could imagine how they looked running under the trees. Knowing that we would be out there with them soon gave me a sense of freedom.

  “I don’t want to sit by some window when everybody else can go outside.” Cheri stared at herself through the large mirror on her dresser.

  “We still haven’t made our plans for the summer,” Courtney said.

  “I want another barbecue!” Tanya exclaimed.

  “Why don’t we go somewhere for a picnic?” Cheri suggested, eagerly sitting up. “How about Virginia Beach?”

  “We did that last year,” Tanya argued, flopping down on the bed.

  “Yeah, but I missed it, remember?” Cheri replied.

  “We could do Busch Gardens Williamsburg,” Tanya suggested, raising her eyebrows.

  “That would be cool,” Cheri replied.

  “Okay, wait a minute.” Courtney put the cards back on top of the dresser and pulled out a sheet of loose-leaf paper from Cheri’s notebook and grabbed a pen off the nightstand. “Now, last June your grandparents took you back to St. Vincent Island for a week. Are they doing it again this year?” she asked Tanya.

  Tanya rolled her eyes up at the ceiling, and after thinking about it, shook her head. “No. My parents are coming up here for three weeks.”

  Courtney clicked the pen and made a note on the paper. “And you guys went to camp, right?” she po
inted at me. “What’s the deal this summer?”

  I shrugged. “Nothing yet.”

  “Okay, well you left us around August,” she said, lowering her head. “And everyone except Cheri went to Virginia Beach for Fourth of July weekend. Now, for this summer, so far we have one vote for a picnic at Virginia Beach.” She looked at Cheri, who nodded.

  Courtney tallied her response. “And one vote for a barbecue, right Tanya?”

  “That was before I decided on Busch Gardens,” she said.

  “We can do both.” Courtney shrugged one shoulder and scribbled on the sheet. “And my choice is outdoor hiking, Water Country USA, Marine Science Museum, and the caverns.” She nodded to Cheri’s cast. “You think you’ll be out of that thing by June?”

  “Sure.”

  Courtney looked down at her paper. “Okay, now, we’ve covered camping plans for August, vacation plans with family in June; we’ll set the amusement park date for July. Hmm, let’s see . . . what about the Labor Day picnic? We need to decide where we want to do that.”

  The hallway phone rang.

  “We can have it outside the caverns?” Cheri suggested. “They have great parks.”

  “Done!” Courtney added the picnic to her list and drew a line across the bottom just as Cheri’s mom walked in and announced: “Courtney, your mother called. She said for you to meet your father downstairs in a few minutes.”

  “Thanks, Mrs. Simmins.” Courtney folded the paper evenly and placed it underneath the cards on Cheri’s dresser. Tanya stood beside her, again fixing her hair ribbon while looking in the mirror.

  “I’ll mark all this down in my summer pamphlets,” Courtney said, heading for the door.

  “We’d better go too,” I said, getting up. “I hope you get better soon.”

  I hope so too,” Cheri mumbled, whacking her pillow. “I’m not missing another beach picnic.”

  I felt bad leaving Cheri by herself. She had a lot of fun things to keep her company though: toys stashed away in the closet, games piled under the bed, and the VCR in her parents’ room.

  But I felt better with the thought of going back outside.

  “Can’t we take the stairs?” Courtney begged as we reached the elevators.

  “I’m not walking down 10 flights, Courtney,” I said, punching the elevator button.

  “I can’t walk down by myself,” she wailed.

  “Why can’t we take a little peek up on 11?” Tanya asked me as we boarded the elevator.

  “We don’t even know anybody up there,” I replied. Courtney was backed up against the wall again. I waved my thumb and explained, “Besides, she can’t survive a ride to the 11th floor.”

  “She can wait outside.”

  “I’m not riding up to the 11th floor,” I snapped.

  The doors opened on the lobby and Courtney shot out.

  “Oh, come on Justine,” Tanya begged and grabbed my arm. “Nobody will even know. We don’t have to get off. Just peek.”

  “No!” I said. “Turn me loose.” I broke away, accidentally flinging my gray wrist key holder right between the car doors.

  I squinted down through the door slits at my keys lying at the bottom of the elevator shaft. My heart sank.

  “Look what you did!” I cried. How was I going to get my keys out of there? What if someone who knows where I live finds them? “My parents will kill me!”

  Maybe I should rush home and get Terence or Kriston. They might know what to do. Or should I go back upstairs and get Cheri? But she’s stuck in bed, and Mrs. Simmins was home. She might report the incident to my mom.

  I left Tanya speechless in the elevator and rushed outside. Courtney was leaning against the fence. “Where’s Tanya?”

  “In the elevator.”

  “How come?”

  I sighed, nervously scratching my head. “My keys are in the elevator shaft.”

  Courtney straightened up. “What’d you put them in the elevator shaft for?”

  “Tanya made me drop them.”

  Courtney glimpsed inside the lobby. “Well, look,” she suggested, “go see if you can find somebody in a maintenance worker uniform and ask him to get them out.”

  Yeah, yeah! That should work!

  I started at one end of Cheri’s building and decided to circle it. In back, I found two security guards talking near a ramp that stretched down into the basement.

  I walked over, wondering if anybody else ever dropped anything down an elevator shaft before or if I was the first. Could there be a law against clumsy key dropping?

  Drops of sweat raced down both sides of my face, dampening the top of my T-shirt. I didn’t bother to wipe them off. I walked up closer to the guards, wishing I could turn invisible. What if someone was watching from one of those many windows?

  The guards kept talking as I approached them. “Excuse me,” I mumbled and pointed at Cheri’s building. “I accidentally dropped my keys down your elevator shaft.” I held my breath and waited to see what they would do.

  They looked at each other and grinned. One reached for the set of keys fastened to his belt and then headed down the ramp. The other one squatted beside me. “Don’t look so worried,” he said. “How about you wait in front of the lobby and I’ll bring them to you, okay?”

  “Okay,” I echoed.

  Hoping Tanya was lost somewhere, I went back around to the other side of the building.

  “What happened?” Courtney asked me.

  I told her about the security guards and sat next to her on the steps, but my eyes were fixed on Tanya. “He told me to wait here.” Then I closed my fingers to stop them from shaking.

  After a while, the guard came from around back with something glittering in his hand. I hoped it was my keys!

  “Ooooo!”

  The pit of my stomach dropped, I just knew that Tanya was the one “ooing.”

  The guard walked up to me. “Here you go,” he said, cupping the keys into my sweaty hands. “Hold on tight this time.” He smiled and disappeared inside the building.

  Courtney got up. “You ready? Let’s go . . . Tanya? Tanya!”

  I got up and headed down the walkway, holding my keys tight and wiping sweat off my face. Boy, was I glad Courtney was my friend. She sure knew what to do. I would never have thought to look for someone who worked around the neighborhood. Maybe the people who lived there have lost things down elevator shafts before and that’s why the guard got it out so fast. It could have been a routine thing.

  I stared at Courtney’s thick bangs dancing in the wind as she walked past the high bushes, which were dotted with yellow flowers.

  I wondered what it was like to feel confidence like that. At least now, I consoled myself, I didn’t have to worry about my parents finding out and yelling at me for being careless.

  “Papi comes around this corner,” Courtney said, brushing strands of hair away from her eyes.

  When we reached the corner, Courtney’s father was just pulling up against the curb. But as we got closer, I noticed something didn’t look right inside the car.

  Mr. Alteza was sitting in the passenger’s seat with both arms braced against the dashboard, and Courtney’s 16-year-old brother was in the driver’s seat.

  I paused at the driver’s side door.

  “Papi what is he doing?” were the first words out of Courtney’s mouth.

  Nothing would come out of Mr. Alteza’s mouth. A big man, even bigger than Pop, but Courtney’s father was slow to anger. He had thick hair and pearl black eyes just like his daughter had.

  Adrian was sitting behind the steering wheel with a gloomy expression on his face. Tall, thin, and not too bright, according to Courtney, he always seemed to have a lot of girlfriends.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” Courtney asked him.

  Adrian scowled back at her. Then slowly, Mr. Alteza’s head turned toward us. Adrian noticed, and slumped under his father’s penetrating stare. Then he opened the car door and slithered out.

 
Mr. Alteza slid behind the steering wheel and rubbed the back of his neck. Adrian walked around the car and got in on the passenger’s side, but Mr. Alteza glared at him even harder.

  Adrian quietly got out of the car again and opened the door to the back.

  Courtney must have known better than to ask again. She just hopped into the back seat beside her big brother. I squirmed in next to her.

  “We have to wait for Tanya,” Courtney announced.

  It was a good thing she said it.

  Mr. Alteza peered through the rearview mirror.

  “Why is she all the way on the other side of the development?”

  We glimpsed out the back window and saw Tanya running up the street toward us. “Why’d you leave me?” she asked, after she had caught up. “I didn’t know which way you guys went.” She slammed the door shut.

  “Why didn’t you ask the guard?” I said, being smart.

  She stopped arranging her skirt and shot her eyes at me.

  “Don’t look at me like that!” I fired off. “You put my keys in the elevator shaft!”

  “Well if you would’ve come upstairs like I’d asked you, you wouldn’t have lost your keys in the first place!” she shot back.

  “Look—” I started to rail until we both noticed Mr. Alteza’s piercing black eyes staring us into silence. As soon as we were quiet, he shifted the gear handle and drove us home.