Writing on the Wall

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Writing on the Wall Page 3

by Christopher Cleary

This raised the stakes. If Kara awoke to find Megan snooping around in her purse, there would be trouble because Kara had secrets of her own that she would be forced to protect. Megan quickly put those items back, pulled out Kara’s wallet, ascertained which piece of plastic was her driver’s license, removed it, and left the bedroom.

  She needed to have that license back in Kara’s purse before she woke up to avoid conflict which might jeopardize the storage-unit project. Her big sister would not be happy about her little sister impersonating her.

  Megan Priddy darted out the front door and across the street to Donnie’s house. It was the first time she had ever rang Donnie’s doorbell.

  When he answered, Megan peeked past him. Heavy drapes blocked out the morning sun. There weren’t even Christmas lights illuminating the room. She glanced around. She didn’t see a Christmas tree. The house was dark except for the glow of a television.

  “I’ve got it,” she told him. “We have to hurry.”

  “Right now?” Donnie hadn’t been expecting Megan this early and the only reason he was up was because hunger drove him from his bedroom to the kitchen. “Are they open?”

  “Yes! Remember? I called them last week.”

  “Oh, yeah.”

  It was apparent to Megan that Donnie didn’t appreciate the urgency of their mission.

  “Donnie!” Megan said sharply without raising her voice. “We’ve got to go right now!”

  “All right. Let me grab my money and a jacket.”

  “Hurry.”

  He didn’t offer for her to wait inside. He closed the door halfway and disappeared. It didn’t take long for him to reappear in the doorway.

  He called back, “Mom! Going out! Be back in a little!” He reached for the door with his right hand.

  Megan’s impatience was growing. She took hold of his left hand and urged, “Hurry!” With his right hand grasping the doorknob, she pulled on his opposite hand, forcing him toward her. This chain reaction caused Donnie to yank on the door until it slammed closed.

  FIVE

  To ensure that Donnie maintained the quick pace she desired, Megan didn’t release his hand until they were down his sidewalk and off their street. She was anxious to complete their errand and return Kara’s driver’s license to its proper place before it was discovered missing. Megan didn’t have time to think about holding Donnie’s hand. She had grabbed it to get him moving just as she would have grabbed anybody’s.

  For Donnie, it was something new and unexpected. He knew that Megan’s intention was nothing more than an effort to get him moving along, but that didn’t prevent him from taking pleasure from it. There had been previous physical contact between them. Such as when it was someone else’s turn on a video game, one would gently shove the other out of the way. Or if one of them made fun of the other, they would receive a playful smack on the arm.

  Never before had their hands touched. This was a new sensation for Donnie. He had never realized how intimate two hands clasped together could be. Nearly everything humans did was with their hands. Everything from scooping ice cream to picking up golf balls to changing television channels to taking tests. There were a countless number of tasks that people performed with their hands. Megan used the very hand that Donnie was holding for all kinds of things, including brushing her groovalicious hair. He had never felt as close to Megan as he did when they briskly walked along hand in hand.

  Eventually, Megan let go and passed the driver’s license to Donnie.

  “This is Kara?” Donnie asked. Megan had told him the plan and how it involved her.

  “Think we look alike?” Megan was starting to feel somewhat tense. She never thought that she looked as much like her sister as everyone said she did.

  “You have some similar features. Your eyes are better.”

  “Thanks. Would you believe that’s me?”

  “Your hair is totally different.” Donnie had never seen hair like Megan’s. It was uniquely colored – subdued, yet exciting and alluring. He knew that he couldn’t be the only person who sometimes wondered what it would feel like to touch.

  Megan knew that her greatest attribute was her hair. On days when she looked in the mirror and nothing else seemed to look right, she was always able to look at her hair and say, “Wow. That looks boffo.” It was silky and plush and just brushed the tops of her shoulders when she walked.

  Megan’s mom had initially vetoed her request to have it professionally highlighted. Megan pleaded with her for days. She wanted a totally fresh look when she started at her new school. Mrs. Priddy gave in. She couldn’t stand seeing Megan upset about something she had control over.

  The hairstylist helped Megan choose a cut that worked for her, but she had the color predetermined. Megan’s inspiration came from the official state fruit of her new home. Setting a peach on the counter in front of the hairstylist, she said, “I want all of these colors mixed together.” It took three hours for the hairstylist to meticulously blend the various shades of red, orange, yellow, and a hint of white. The combination was gorgeous, unique, and dazzling.

  “That’s no big deal,” she said to Donnie about the difference in hairstyles. “If they say anything about my hair, I’ll just say that I got it done different since the picture was taken.”

  Donnie finished his inspection of the license and handed it back. “Well, it’s not the best photo, so I think that you’ll be able to pull it off.”

  He didn’t accompany Megan past the street corner of the block where Parkside Storage was located. Donnie wished her luck, gave her his half of the money, and she went on without him. His eyes stayed with her until she vanished inside the storage center.

  The brown and orange office was small and warm. The walls were covered with packing materials, box samples, and other retail items for sale. Behind the counter were a computer, printer, and other office materials.

  Megan thought that she heard a toilet flush before a man with thinning blonde hair appeared from beyond the main office. According to the nametag, his name was Rex.

  “Can I help you?” The employee’s slight southern drawl was effeminate. At first glance, he appeared to be a tidy individual. Beneath it, Megan sensed an unkempt person. She immediately felt uncomfortable being alone with him.

  She swallowed her apprehension and replied, “I’d like to rent a storage unit.”

  His voice was condescending, “What are you going to do with it?”

  Megan managed to stutter a few sounds but nothing that came out would have passed for the English language.

  “Oh, chillax,” he told her, spreading his fingers wide. “I’m kidding. I don’t care what you do with it. We’re at half-capacity. I’m just happy to rent it to you.” He began tapping the keys on the keyboard. “We offer units from thirty-five to four-hundred square feet. All units have drive-up access. None of them are climate controlled so if you have stuff that might melt, I’m going to have to refer you to one of our other facilities.”

  She briefly wondered how hot it might get in the summer before replying, “That’s fine.”

  “What size did you have in mind?”

  Megan already had this figured out. The previous night she had referred to the notes that she had taken when she first called Parkside Storage. “Two-hundred square feet,” she said.

  The man continued typing on his computer. “Our most popular size. It runs ten by twenty feet. Will that suit your needs?”

  “Yes.”

  “And would you like to take advantage of our special?” Rex began a speech that he had given many times before, “If you sign a one-year lease and pay the first three months forthright, then your initial month only costs nine dollars. Each month thereafter costs one-hundred nineteen dollars. You’re subjected to a mulct for early termination. Upon expiration of the original lease, it converts to month-to-month. Thereafter, you can cancel anytime without penalty.”

  Megan was aware of her tendency to pull back on her lower lip with her two incisors wh
en processing unfamiliar information. She tried to refrain from doing this when Rex spoke about the lease. She was bright enough to figure out his jibber-jabber if she had the time. She considered asking questions for clarification but didn’t want to arouse suspicion by inquiring for answers that were obvious to everyone but her.

  She blurted, “K. That’s good,” even if it really wasn’t.

  Rex pulled out a clipboard with paperwork attached. “Just fill this out, and I’ll need to see your driver’s license.”

  Megan set her sister’s license on the counter and began filling in the requested information on the forms. She was careful to fill in Kara’s name. The page was covered with fine print detailing descriptions of rights and obligations that she failed to fully comprehend or even read all the way through. For a moment, she thought that maybe she was in over her head.

  “This,” Rex declared, “is an out-of-state license.”

  Megan mentally used a cuss word before audibly concurring.

  Rex took in a deep breath and exhaled dramatically. “New to the area?” he said.

  Beyond her control, Megan’s hands started to sweat. The pen became slippery and her fingers began to stick to the paper.

  “Yes.” She tried to sound confident when she said it, but it came out all wrong. She sounded like a timid ten-year old.

  Rex nodded and handed the license back. Megan didn’t know if that was a good sign or not.

  He said, “Can I give you some advice?”

  Megan didn’t trust her words to come out right so she nodded her head.

  “Hurry up and get your Georgia license ‘cause this picture doesn’t do you justice, sugar.”

  Megan painfully giggled a “Thank you.” She would have been flattered by the compliment since Rex was really saying that she was more attractive than her older sister, but she was too nervous to be excited.

  “How will you be paying today?” he said.

  “Cash.”

  Rex smiled, showing off exactly which teeth were missing. “We accept cash.”

  The total before tax was two-hundred sixty dollars and ninety-five cents. This also included the price of a lock. Rex began keying in her information from the clipboard. Knowing that he was typing in her home address and the fact that Kara could wake up any minute tormented Megan.

  She had the cash ready and waiting for him. He wrote down the gate password and unit number on a Parkside Storage bi-fold card and exchanged that for the money.

  “Now, you can either walk out the back with me,” Rex said, “or if you want to drive your car, you can follow me on the golf cart to your unit.”

  Megan had what she wanted. She needed to get out of that office and back to the house so she could return the driver’s license. “Not necessary,” she told Rex. “I’m in a hurry. I’ll just find it the next time I come.”

  She turned and made haste for the door.

  “Wait!” Rex called to her.

  Megan Priddy already had one hand on the door, ready to push it open. Something was wrong, she thought. She messed up. Rex caught her falsifying information. She put on her fake smile that everyone found adorable and turned to face the creepy man.

  “Come here,” he instructed her.

  She thought about bolting out the door and down the street, forfeiting the money she gave him. She couldn’t. Rex had all of her personal information. Well, he had a mixture of Megan’s and Kara’s personal information.

  Without losing her smile, Megan took a few steps back toward the counter.

  “You’ve got change coming,” the man said and handed her a few bucks and coins. “You really are in a hurry, aren’t you, sugar?”

  “Yeah,” Megan took the money and shoved it in her pocket. “Bye.”

  Donnie saw her reappear from the office. She was nearly running toward him. He thought they might be in trouble. She didn’t stop once she got to him. All she said was, “Come on.”

  “What happened?”

  Not breaking stride, she looked up at him. “We did it.”

  Nothing lit up Donnie’s dark features like his smile. Unlike Megan, he didn’t possess any fake expressions. Unless he was wearing a genuine smile, his face was solemn in every picture that was taken of him. Megan loved seeing that smile. It was a treat.

  She stopped walking and admired it. It was infectious, and she smiled back.

  “That’s awesome,” he told her. “I want to hear about it.”

  “I have to get home. If my sister finds out I swiped her license…,” she didn’t exactly know the end of the sentence. There were many potential outcomes. Some worse than others. Getting everything back to normal was the safest play.

  “Which one did we get?”

  Megan looked down at the Parkside Storage bi-fold card for the first time. “Unit #143.”

  SIX

  Storage Unit #143 felt like a basement built above ground. Three of the walls were comprised of concrete block and the fourth wall was a metallic rolling garage door that lifted manually. The unit was lit by a single exposed light bulb that screwed into the ceiling at the center of the unit. Its switch was on the wall, near the door.

  New Year’s Day was the first time that Donnie and Megan tested out the storage unit. They didn’t stay very long. The air was frigid and the cold of the cement floor froze their butts and traveled up their spines like mercury in a thermometer.

  On the first day back to school after winter break, both of them went to the student store during lunch. The blankets left over from football season were on sale and Donnie and Megan each bought one, not out of school spirit for the Haviland High Platypuses, but out of necessity. They could sit on the blankets and wrap them around their bodies until the weather turned warm or until they came up with a better solution for the cold.

  They didn’t make it five steps out of the student store before Sada, the school’s anti-everything girl and Megan’s lunch-table companion, caught them with their purchases. Her hair was blacker than outer space and she had the makeup on to match. No matter the time of day, she always sounded sleepy when she spoke. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” she said, offended that they would support anything that had to do with their school. “What are you guys doing with those?”

  Megan told her, “Mine is a belated Christmas present for you.”

  “Riiiight. It will go great with my pom-poms and H.H.S. Platypuses sweatshirt. Hey! While you guys are here, can you sign my petition? I’m running for student council.”

  “You say that jokingly, Sada,” Megan replied with a grin, “but I know deep down you hope to be Homecoming Queen someday.”

  “Sha-right. But if I were,” she moved to within inches of Donnie, “I’d want you to be my king.” She chomped her teeth together near his face and went back into the lunch room.

  Donnie shook his head in wonder. “She’s not even weird to get attention. She’s just weird ‘cause she is.”

  “Not really,” Megan disagreed.

  “No?”

  “You just have to hang with her for a little to understand.”

  “The girl hates everything.”

  “Nah. She’s open-minded.”

  “About as open minded as an aardvark.”

  Neither of them were model students that afternoon. They sat in their seats and looked at the teacher, but neither of them paid attention to the lesson. Donnie and Megan couldn’t stop thinking about their new hangout. It was a private club for just the two of them. They couldn’t wait to go.

  Usually after school they moved at a snail’s pace. The freedom from authority always felt good and they were never in a hurry to reach their next destination and resume their role as teenagers. The first day back to school after winter break was different. They had a place to go where they were the authorities.

  They moved down Memory Lane so fast that the Ritchie’s dog barely had time to get in two barks before the kids were past its fence.

  Before blowing by Swifts, Donnie asked, “Wanna stop h
ere for a couple of hot chocolates?”

  “K, but let’s not dilly-dally.”

  Donnie bought a large while Megan opted for a small. She declined marshmallows. He accepted her unused portion.

  Donnie was halfway out the door when Megan exclaimed, “Look what they got!”

  “What?” He reentered Swifts.

  She pointed to bin of plush piglets next to the magazine rack. “I want one.”

  “What are you telling me for? Buy one.”

  “I mean, like a real one. I want a little pig. They’re my favoritest. Look how cute they are.”

  “I don’t think that a real pig would be quite as cute.”

  “Oh yeah, it would be. And those little ones, they make the cutest noises.”

  Megan kept staring at the bin of pigs. Donnie pulled his hat back on and buttoned his jacket while he waited for her to purchase one of the stuffed animals or make a move toward the door. Eventually, he said, “Are you gonna get one of those or what?”

  Startled by his voice, she shook her head and said, “No.”

  “Let’s go.”

  He pushed the door open and held it for her.

  A block away was Parkside Storage. They walked up the driveway and entered their code on a keypad that rose from the ground. This activated a long gate, wide enough for customers to drive their cars through. It eased its way to the right.

  Unit #143 was located at the far end of the first row. It faced west and another row of replica storage units.

  With a rattle and clang, Donnie whipped open the unit. Megan flipped on the bare light and claimed the wall on the right side. Donnie pulled the door down and took the wall opposite her.

  Both kids silently wrapped themselves in their newly purchased blankets and made themselves as comfortable as they could by sitting on a portion of the blanket and leaning against the wall.

  She began digging through her satchel. He waited, curious to see what she was going to pull out. When it was a schoolbook and some paper, he asked, “What are you doing?”

  Reaching for a purple pen from the side pocket of her satchel, she answered, “Homework.”

 

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