Thr3e (5 page)

Maybe if he put some newspapers or his blanket over the window, it would be dark enough.

He climbed out of bed, pulled off the gray wool blanket, and hefted it up to hook over the rod. Wow, it was really bright out there. He glanced back at his bedroom door. Mother was in bed.

The shade hung from a spring-loaded roll at the top, a smudged sheet of canvas that covered the small window most of the time. There was nothing to look out at but the backyard anyway. Kevin lowered the blanket and lifted the bottom edge of the shade.

A dull glow shone over the ashes in the backyard. He could see the doghouse on the left, like it was day. He could even see each board in the old fence that ran around the house. Kevin lifted his eyes to the sky. A bright moon that glowed like a light bulb smiled down at him and he smiled back. Wow!

He started to lower the shade when something else caught his eye. A bump on one of the fence boards. He blinked and looked at it. No, not a bump! A—

Kevin dropped the shade. Someone was out there, staring back at him!

He scrambled off his bed and backed to the wall. Who would be staring at him in the middle of the night? Who would be staring at him period? It was a kid, wasn’t it? One of the neighborhood boys or girls.

Maybe he just thought he saw someone. He waited a few minutes, lots of time for whoever it was to move on, and then he worked up the courage for just one more peek.

This time he barely lifted the shade so that he could just see over the sill. She was still there! Kevin thought his chest might explode from the fright, but he kept looking. She couldn’t see him now; the shade was too low. It was a girl; he could see that much. A young girl, maybe his age, with long blonde hair and a face that would have to be pretty, he thought, although he couldn’t really see any details of her face.

And then she dropped from sight and disappeared.

Kevin could hardly sleep. The next night, Kevin couldn’t resist peeking out, but the girl was gone. Gone for good.

He thought.

Three days later he was in bed again, and this time he knew he had been lying awake for at least an hour without being able to sleep. Mother had made him take a very, very long nap that afternoon and he just wasn’t tired. The moon wasn’t as bright tonight but he had covered up the window to make it darker anyway. After a long time he decided that he might be better off with more light. Maybe if he could trick his mind into thinking it was the next morning already, it would be tired after not sleeping all night.

He stood, tore off the wool blanket, and sent the shade flying up with a flip of his wrist.

A small, round face had its nose against the window. Kevin jumped back and rolled off the bed, terrified. He scrambled to his feet. She was there! Here! At his window! The girl from the other night was right here, spying on him.

Kevin almost screamed. The girl was smiling. She lifted a hand and waved as if she recognized him and had just stopped by to say hi.

He glanced at the door. Hopefully Mother hadn’t heard. He turned back to the girl in the window. She was mouthing something to him now, motioning for him to do something.

He could only stand there and stare, frozen.

She was motioning for him to lift the window! No way! And he couldn’t anyway; it was screwed shut.

She didn’t look frightening, really. In fact, she was actually very nice looking. Her face was pretty and her hair was long. Why was he so scared of her? Maybe he shouldn’t be. Her face was so . . . kind.

Kevin glanced again at the door and then slid back onto the end of his bed. She waved again, and this time he waved back. She was pointing at the window sill, motioning again. He followed her hands and suddenly understood. She was telling him to unscrew the window! He looked at the single screw that fastened the sash in place and for the first time realized that he could take it out. All he had to do was find something to turn the screw with. Something like a penny. He had some of those.

Suddenly energized by the idea, Kevin grabbed one of the pennies from an old tin can on his floor and placed it in the screw. It came loose. He unwound it until it was out.

The girl jumped up and down and motioned for him to lift the window. Kevin gave his bedroom door one last look and then yanked on the window. It flew up silently. He knelt on his bed, face to face with the girl.

“Hi,” she whispered, smiling from ear to ear.

“H . . . hi,” he said.

“Do you want to come out and play?”

Play? Fear replaced excitement. Behind him the house was quiet. “I can’t come out.”

“Sure you can. Just crawl out the window. It’s easy.”

“I don’t think I’m supposed to. I . . .”

“Don’t worry, your mother won’t even know. You can just climb back in later and screw the window shut again. They’re all sleeping anyway, right?”

“You know my mother?”

“Everyone has a mother.”

So she didn’t know Mother. She was just saying that she knew mothers didn’t like their kids sneaking out. As if all mothers were like his mother.

“Right?” she asked.

“Right.”

What if he did go out? What harm would it do? Mother had never actually told him not to climb out of the window at night, at least not in those words.

“I don’t know. No, I really can’t.”

“Sure you can. I’m a girl and you’re a boy. Girls and boys play together. Don’t you know that?”

He didn’t know what to say. He’d never played with a girl before, that was for sure.

“Just hop down.”

“Are . . . are you sure it’s safe?”

She reached out a hand. “Here, I’ll help you.”

He wasn’t sure what made him do it; his hand just seemed to reach out for hers on its own. His fingers touched hers and they were warm. He had never touched a girl’s hand before. The strange sensation filled him with a good feeling he’d never felt before. Butterflies.

Ten seconds later, Kevin was out of the window trembling under a bright moon next to a girl about his own height.

“Follow me,” the girl said. She walked for the fence, lifted a loose board, stepped out, and motioned him on. With one last anxious look back at his window, he followed.

Kevin stood beyond the fence shivering in the night, but not from fear so much as from excitement again.

“My name’s Samantha, but you can call me Sam. What’s yours?”

“Kevin.”

Sam stuck out her hand. “Glad to meet you, Kevin.” He took her hand and shook it. But she didn’t let go. Instead she led him away from his house.

“We moved here from San Francisco about a month ago. I didn’t know any children lived in this house, but a week ago I heard my parents talking. Your parents are pretty private people, huh?”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“My parents let me walk down to the park at the end of the street where a lot of kids hang out. It’s lighted, you know. You want to go down there?”

“Now?”

“Sure, why not? It’s safe. My dad’s a policeman—if it wasn’t safe, believe me, he would know.”

“No. I . . . I can’t. I really don’t want to.”

She shrugged. “Suit yourself. I was on my way down the other night when I looked over your fence and saw you. I guess I was spying. Do you mind?”

“No.”

“Good, because I think you’re cute.”

Kevin didn’t know what to say.

“Do you think I’m pretty?” She spun away from him and twirled around like a ballerina. She wore a pink dress and pink ribbons in her hair.

“Yes, I think you’re pretty,” he said.

She stopped her twirling, looked at him for a moment, and then giggled. “I can already tell that we’re going to be wonderful friends. Would you like that?”

“Yes.”

She skipped back, grabbed his hand, and dragged him into a run. Kevin laughed. He did like her. He liked her very much. More, in fact, than anyone he could ever remember liking.

“Where are we going?”

“Don’t worry, no one will know. No one will even see us. I promise.”

For the next hour Sam talked to him about her family and their house, which was three down from his. She went to something she called a private school and didn’t get home until six every night, she said. Her dad couldn’t afford it on his income, but her grandmother had left a trust fund for her and the only way they could use any of the money was if she went to a private school. The kids there weren’t really her type. Neither were most of the neighborhood kids. When she grew up, she was going to be a cop like her dad. That’s probably why she liked to sneak around, because cops do that to catch the bad guys. She asked Kevin some questions but then backed off when she saw that he was shy.

Sam liked him—he could tell. It was the first time Kevin had felt that kind of friendship from anyone.

At about eight o’clock Samantha told him that she had to get home or her parents would worry. They squeezed back through the fence and she helped him climb back through his window.

“This will be our secret, okay? No one will know. If you hear me tapping on your window at about seven o’clock, you’ll know that I can play if you want to. Deal?”

“You mean we can do this again?”

“Why not? As long as you don’t get caught, right?”

“Get caught?” Kevin looked at his window, suddenly fighting an urge to throw up. He wasn’t sure why he felt sick; he only knew that if Mother found out she wouldn’t be happy. Things went funny when Mother wasn’t happy. How could he have done this? He never did things without asking. Never.

Sam put her hand on his shoulder. “Don’t be afraid, Kevin. No one will know. I like you and I want to be your friend. Would you like that?”

“Yes.”

Sam giggled and flashed her bright blue eyes. “I want to give you something.” She pulled one of the pink ribbons from her hair and handed it to him. “Don’t let your mom find it.”

“This is for me?”

“So you don’t forget me.”

There was no chance of that. No way.

Sam held out her hand. “Until next time, partner. Slip me some skin.”

He looked at her, confused.

“My dad says that. It’s a street thing. Here, like this.” She took his hand and slid her palm on his. “See ya. Don’t forget to screw your window down.”

Then Sam was gone.

Two nights later she was back. With more butterflies in his stomach and shrill warning bells ringing in his mind, Kevin slipped out his window.

Mother would find out. Sam took his hand and that made him feel warm, but Mother would find out. The ringing in his head wouldn’t stop.

Kevin snapped out of the memories. A shrill bell screamed. He jerked to the sound. It took him a moment to make the transition from the past.

The black phone on the counter rang. It was a modern contraption with an old-style bell that sounded like an old desk phone. Kevin stared at it, suddenly unsure whether he wanted to pick it up. He rarely received phone calls; few people had reason to call him. Mostly telemarketers.

He’d set the answering machine for six rings. What if it was Samantha? Or Detective Milton?

The phone rang again.
Answer it, Kevin. Of course. Answer it.

He stepped over to the counter and snatched the receiver from its cradle. “Hello?”

“Hello, Kevin. Did you find my little gift?”

Kevin went numb. Slater.

“I’ll take that as a yes. We’ve had an eventful day, haven’t we? First a little phone call and then a little boom and now a little gift. And all within four hours. Makes all the waiting worth it, don’t you think?”

“Who are you?” Kevin demanded. “How do you know me?”

“Who am I? I am your worst nightmare. I promise you, you’ll agree soon enough. How do I know you? Tsk, tsk, tsk. The fact that you even have to ask justifies everything I have in mind.”

It had to be the boy!
God in heaven, save me!
Kevin slumped slowly to the floor. This couldn’t be happening. “Oh God—”

“Not God, Kevin. Definitely not God. Now, I want you to listen carefully, because I’m going to give you a lot of information in a short time. Every single bit is critical if you want to survive this little game of ours. Do you understand?”

Kevin’s mind raced through the years, searching for someone who might have sounded like this man, anyone who might have any reason at all to speak to him this way. Anyone but the boy.

“Answer me, you creep!” Slater said.

“Yes.”

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, I understand.”

“Yes, you understand what?”

“That I have to listen carefully,” Kevin said.

“Good. From now on you answer me when I ask you a question, and you speak only when I say you speak. Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

“Fine. There are only three rules to our game. Remember all of them. One, you say nothing to the cops about my riddles or my phone calls until after the time has passed. Then you may tell them all you want. This is personal—having the whole city coming unglued over a little bomb that might go off wouldn’t be useful. Are we clear?”

“Yes.”

“Two, you do exactly what I say, or I promise you will pay. Abundantly clear?”

“Why are you doing—”

“Answer me!”

“Yes!”

“Three, the riddles keep coming until you confess. As soon as you do, I go away. It’s that simple. One, two, three. Get it through your thick skull and we’ll do fine. Understand?”