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Home Alone 2

Page 7

by Todd Strasser


  "Don't make any promises you can't keep." The pigeon lady shook her finger at him. But then she winked.

  "Merry Christmas." Kevin waved and started to climb out the window to the fire escape.

  Back down on the dark sidewalk, Kevin tried to think of what he could do to help others. He saw an empty soda can lying on the curb and put it in a trash can, but that didn't seem like much of a good deed. He'd probably have to clean the whole city to erase all the bad stuff he'd done.

  As he walked along, a big bright plastic Christmas star on the top of a nearby roof caught his eye. Curious, Kevin walked toward it until he found himself staring at a large brick building. A sign above the entrance said NEW YORK CHILDREN'S HOSPITAL.

  Kevin stared up at the windows decorated with blinking Christmas lights. In one window a boy wearing a robe and pajamas rubbed a clear circle in the fogged pane and gazed outside. Kevin felt a pang in his heart. It was sad to think of kids his own age cooped up in a hospital on Christmas Eve, too sick to be home with their families. Of all the good deeds he could do, Kevin wished he could do something for the kids in that hospital.

  Wait a minute . . . ! The bad guys were planning to rob Duncan's Toy Chest. Hadn't that gray-haired man said all the money in the store that night was going to this hospital? Kevin's eyes widened. The bad guys were going to steal the hospital's money!

  Kevin clenched his fists in anger. It was bad to mess with sick kids, but to do it on Christmas was inexcusable! Now he knew what his good deed had to be. He had to stop those guys from robbing the toy store.

  * * *

  A little while later Kevin was walking back up Central Park West. He knew he didn't stand a chance battling the bad guys in the street. But in a house . . . that was a different story.

  By the time he got to Uncle Rob's house Kevin had started to formulate a plan. It would be called Operation Ho! Ho! Ho! and to make it work, he'd need the workmen's tools, glue, cans of paint and paint thinner, kerosene, bricks, rope . . . and Monster Sap Bath Bubbles.

  Christmas Eve

  The Plaza Hotel

  9:30 P.M.

  Shortly after the plane from Miami landed at LaGuardia Airport in New York, a convoy of yellow cabs pulled up in front of the Plaza Hotel and the McCallisters jumped out.

  "Hey, what about the fare, mister?" a cabbie shouted at Uncle Frank as he left his cab.

  "Uh, how about a group discount?" Uncle Frank asked.

  "Whatya talkin about?" The cabbie pointed angrily at his meter. "That's the fare, you gotta pay it."

  Uncle Frank pretended to search his pockets. "Gee, I'm out of change. My brother Peter'll get it."

  By the time Peter paid all the cab fares and got into the hotel, Kate was standing at the concierge's desk, red-faced and furious. On the other side stood the concierge and Ms. Acivedo, the clerk who'd checked Kevin into the hotel.

  "What kind of hotel lets a child check in alone?" Kate demanded.

  "The boy had a convincing story, a credit card, and a reservation," Ms. Acivedo stammered.

  Kate glared at the clerk in disbelief and then turned to the concierge. "What kind of idiots do you have working for you?"

  The concierge swallowed. "Uh, the finest in New York City, ma'am."

  Kate felt her blood begin to boil. "It's Christmas Eve, and because of you my son is lost in one of the biggest cities in the world."

  "I'm truly sorry, ma'am," the concierge apologized.

  "You're going to be more than sorry," Peter said angrily. "After we find our son, I suggest you prepare yourself for a civil suit."

  The concierge blanched. "Sir, you must understand that it was an innocent mistake. But in order to make it easier for you, we'd like to give you a complimentary suite here at the hotel for as long as it takes to find your son."

  "Think you could make that two complimentary suites?" Uncle Frank asked.

  "I suppose we could give you an extra large suite," the concierge said.

  "Sounds fair," said Uncle Frank.

  "Mom! Dad!" Jeff waved from the other end of the lobby. "The cops are here!"

  Peter ran across the lobby, went out the main doors, and down the steps. Several police cars were parked outside. A moment later, Kate came out and stopped on the steps. As she stared at the lights of the city, she began to realize the enormity of the challenge that lay ahead. Somewhere out there, helpless, lost, and afraid, was her son.

  It would have stunned Kate to learn that her son was only a few blocks away at that moment, his face pressed against the window of Duncan's Toy Chest. On the sidewalk next to him was a plank of wood, a can of paint, and a brick.

  Inside, on the second floor, Marv and Harry let themselves out of their playhouses. The store was dimly lit and quiet. The two bad guys trotted down the unmoving escalator.

  "Bars up!" Harry ordered cheerfully, pulling a crowbar from under his coat.

  "Yes, sir!" Marv grinned and pulled out his crowbar.

  On the first floor, they vaulted over the cashier's counter. Harry jammed his crowbar into a cash register and started to pry it open. Sproing! The cash drawer slid out, revealing thick wads of green currency.

  "Look at all that moola!" Marv gasped.

  "Must be Christmas." Harry winked happily.

  Marv quickly ripped open the next register. It, too, was filled with cash. "There's more money in this place than I ever dreamed!"

  "It makes you wonder why we spent so much time robbing houses!" Harry laughed with delight as he dumped the wads of bills into a green gym bag he'd taken from the sporting goods department.

  "The amazing thing," said Marv, "is we're fugitives from the law, we're up to our elbows in cash money, and there ain't nobody who knows about it!"

  Outside on the sidewalk, Kevin turned the paint can on its side and laid the plank of wood across it, creating a teeter-totter. Then he took an envelope out of his pocket. On it he'd written To: Mr. Duncan (The Guy Who Owns This Store). Inside was a special message. Using a rubber band, he wrapped the envelope around the brick.

  Kevin looked through the window and watched as Harry and Marv gathered up all the money that was supposed to go to the kids at the Children's Hospital. This is it, he thought, taking a deep breath and watching a plume of vapor escape his lungs. There's no turning back. Another Christmas in the trenches.

  He knocked on the window.

  Inside, Harry and Marv looked up. As they followed the sound with their eyes, they stared at the window in disbelief.

  "He's back!" Marv gasped.

  They watched in frozen horror as Kevin took the Polaroid camera out of his backpack and focused it. Flash! Before Harry and Marv had time to react, Kevin had taken a picture of them. Harry looked down. Both of his hands were filled with cash and he was standing in front of a broken cash register. Through the window they watched Kevin remove the photo and stick it in his backpack.

  "He took our picture," Harry groaned.

  "How's my hair look?" Marv asked.

  "You idiot!" Harry shouted. "All he has to do is show the picture to the cops and we'll go away for life!"

  "No way," Marv said confidently. "By the time the cops see that picture we'll be relaxing on a beach in some foreign country."

  But Kevin wasn't finished. He picked up the brick.

  "Oh, no!" Harry gasped. "I got a feeling the cops are gonna see that picture sooner than we thought!"

  Kevin threw the brick. CRASH! The whole window shattered into tiny chunks of glass.

  BRIIINNNGGGGG! A symphony of burglar alarms started ringing loudly. Kevin backed a safe distance away down the sidewalk.

  "We gotta get outa here!" Harry shouted, grabbing the green gym bag filled with money. He vaulted over the window display and jumped through the open space where the window had been.

  Bang! He landed on the wooden plank, slamming one end of it to the sidewalk. Harry looked down and saw the paint can under the plank. He smiled. The kid was up to his old tricks again.

  "Nice tr
y, kid!" Harry shouted. "Too bad I ain't that stupid!"

  A second later Marv sailed through the window and landed on the high end of the plank, catapulting Harry into the air. Marv looked around for his partner. "Harry?"

  Thunk! Harry hit the sidewalk on his back and lay there dazed.

  Marv looked down at him and scowled. "Where were you?"

  "Where do you think I was, numbskull!" Harry shouted. As Marv helped him off the sidewalk, there was another flash from Kevin's camera.

  "He took another picture!" Marv yelled.

  "We gotta get him!" Harry shouted.

  Kevin started to run. In the distance, police sirens began to wail as they responded to the burglar alarms. Looking back, Kevin saw the bad guys chasing him. If he couldn't beat them to Uncle Rob's house, he was dead meat.

  Christmas Eve

  Uncle Rob's House

  9:50 P.M.

  As Kevin ran down the sidewalk toward his Uncle Rob's house, he could hear Harry and Marv huffing and puffing behind him. He quickly hopped into the Dumpster and crawled up the refuse chute to the third floor, then climbed one more set of stairs to the flat, asphalt roof. He ran to the edge of the building and looked down.

  On the street below, Harry and Marv stopped and gasped for breath.

  "Where is he?" Harry wheezed, looking around.

  "I don't know," Marv replied, panting.

  "I'm up here, you jerks!" Kevin waved down from the roof. "Come and get me!"

  As the bad guys gawked up at him, Kevin snapped another picture with the Polaroid. Harry turned to Marv and pulled out his crowbar.

  "Bars up!" Harry ordered.

  "Let's kill," Marv growled. He started toward the steps to the brownstone.

  "Hold on, pea brain." Harry grabbed him by the collar. "Don't you remember we got busted last time because we underestimated that little bundle of misery? We don't go after him until we got a plan that's better than his plan."

  "This ain't like last time, Harry," Marv replied. "This ain't his house. He's runnin' scared. He ain't got a plan."

  Harry rolled his eyes. "May I do the thinking, please?"

  He looked back up at Kevin. "Sonny? Nothing would thrill me more than to shoot you. Knocking off a youngster ain't gonna mean that much to me. You understand?"

  On the roof, Kevin stared down without answering.

  "But here's the deal," Harry continued. "Since I'm in a hurry, why don't you just throw down your camera, okay? We won't hurt you and you'll never see us again. Sound good?"

  "Promise?" Kevin asked.

  "Cross my heart," Harry said.

  "Okay." Kevin put the camera down on the roof. Then he picked up a brick. Below, Harry stepped forward in anticipation. Behind him, Marv waited, picking his teeth with a toothpick.

  "Give it to me, kid," Harry yelled.

  Kevin launched the brick. Clunk! It smashed Marv on the head. Kevin smiled. Direct hit!

  Marv was lying on the sidewalk. Little bricks were swirling in circles in front of his eyes and his head felt like it had swollen to twice its normal size. Harry bent over him and held up three fingers. "How many fingers am I holding up?"

  Marv saw dozens of fingers floating in the air with the bricks. "Uh, twelve?"

  Harry clenched his teeth and turned back to Kevin. That kid made him so mad. "Hey, kid!" he shouted. "You wanna throw bricks? Go ahead. Throw another one."

  Kevin threw another brick. As it sailed down through the air, Harry dodged it. Bonk! Marv was just getting up from the street when the brick smashed him on the head and knocked him down again. Unaware that his partner had been hit, Harry stuck his tongue out at Kevin.

  "If you can't do no better than that, kid, you're gonna lose!" Harry shouted. "Better try again."

  Marv lay dazed on the street, watching more little bricks and fingers float around in the air. "Uh, Harry, no . . ." he groaned.

  Too late . . . Kevin threw down another brick and again Harry jumped out of the way. Sprong! Marv got smashed in the head.

  "You got any more?" Harry yelled up at Kevin.

  Kevin held his fire. Harry turned and found Marv sprawled on the street. "Hey, come on, get up. How come you're still lying around?"

  Harry's words sounded distant and faint. Marv opened his eyes and saw three of everything, including three more bricks sailing down at them. "Harry!" he gasped, pointing upward.

  Harry turned and saw the brick coming. He ducked.

  CLUNK! Marv got hit again. This one knocked him out.

  Harry looked down at his unconscious partner. "Don't worry, Marv. That kid's dead. Nobody throws bricks at me and gets away with it."

  Leaving Marv to recover from his headache, Harry snuck down an alley behind the brownstone. There he found another Dumpster filled with rubbish. Above it was a metal fire escape. If he snuck up the fire escape, Harry thought he might be able to take the kid by surprise. He climbed up on the Dumpster, but the bottom of the fire escape was just out of reach. Harry crouched down like a swimmer and then sprang forward. His hands went around the bottom wrung of the fire escape.

  He would have held on, but Kevin had greased it.

  Harry swung forward. The bottom wrung slipped out of his hands. Harry went down.

  Thwamp! Harry hit the ground flat on his back.

  Still dizzy from the bricks, Marv staggered up the front steps and tried to open the door, but the doorknob came off in his hand. There was a string attached to the knob. Marv pulled on it. Nothing happened. Marv frowned and pulled harder. Still nothing. Marv backed up against the door and gave the string a real hard yank.

  The string was connected to a staple gun aimed through the key hole.

  Zing! Zing! Zing!

  "YEEEEEEAAAHH!!!" Marv screamed and grabbed his rear end. He had just stapled his pants to his behind. As he spun around, the string went tight again.

  Zing! Zing! Zing! Marv caught three more staples in the hip and doubled over in agony.

  Zing! Zing! Zing! The last three staples stapled Marv's hat to his head.

  In the back, Harry slowly rose to his feet and stepped onto the back porch. He tried the rear door, but the door knob spun loosely in his hand.

  The kid must have disconnected it.

  "You're gonna have to do better than that!" Harry shouted and gave the door a ferocious kick.

  Little did he know that Kevin had tied a cord from the top of the door to the zipper of a plumber's bag hanging upside down over the porch.

  Ziiiiiippppp! When the door flew back, it pulled the zipper open.

  Bonk! Clank! Plunk! A dozen heavy iron plumbers wrenches crashed down on Harry's head.

  Marv grabbed his hat with both hands and pulled, but it wouldn't leave his head. He pulled harder. Riipppp! The hat came off, along with several pieces of pink scalp. Marv's face turned red with pain and anger.

  "That's it!" he shouted. "I'm coming in!"

  Marv hit the front door with his shoulder. The door burst open and he flew into the house. Kevin had pulled away the sheets of plywood covering the floor joists. Marv fell straight through the beams and into the basement.

  CRUNCH! He hit the floor and laid there for a moment. Okay, at least he was in the basement and couldn't fall any further. A bit unsteadily, he rose to his feet.

  And promptly fell again.

  What the . . . ? Marv tried to get up again. His feet started to slide out from under him and he had to grab an old chair for support. He gave the floor a closer look. It was glistening. The kid must've spread some kind of liquid soap on the ground. Smart, but not smart enough. Marv spotted a large steel cabinet a few feet away. Its shelves were filled with paint cans. All he had to do was get to it, and then he'd be able to hold on and make his way across the floor.

  Slipping and skidding, Marv managed to grab the edge of the cabinet. Suddenly it started to tip.

  KER-SPLASH! A dozen open paint cans crashed down, knocking him to the floor. A few moments later, Marv staggered to his feet, drenched with thi
ck gooey paint. It had soaked through his clothes, plastered down his hair, and was stinging his eyes. Groping blindly for something to wipe his eyes with, he felt a piece of cheesecloth and pressed it against his face.

  Marv started to pull the cloth away, but it wouldn't come off. "What the . . . ?" The kid must've put glue on the cloth! Marv gripped it firmly with both hands and yanked in frustration.

  Riiippppp! The cloth pulled free.

  "Yeow!" Marv felt like he'd ripped half his face off. He looked down at the cloth and gasped. Staring back at him from the cloth were his eyebrows, mustache, and goatee.

  On the back porch, Harry crawled out from under the pile of wrenches. His head throbbed and he was nearly blind with rage. He limped into the dark house, feeling his way through a butler's pantry until he came across a light string hanging from the ceiling. Remembering how the kid liked to booby-trap things, he tugged the string and then quickly jumped back.

  A bare light bulb flashed on. Harry waited to see what else would happen. No wrenches fell out of the ceiling. No fans blowing feathers started blowing. Harry smiled. He entered a hallway and found another light string. He pulled it and another bulb flashed on. Harry waited to see what surprise the kid had hooked up to this one, but again nothing happened.

  So far, so good. Harry stepped into a small bathroom. There was a strong smell of paint thinner in the air. He saw another light string and pulled it.

  Fiiisshhhttt! Another light went on. Harry felt his head growing hot. He looked up at the ceiling. Instead of a bare light bulb, he found himself staring at the blue-orange flame of a butane torch. Now he knew why his head felt hot . . . because his hat was on fire!

  Harry couldn't believe it. The same thing had happened to him last year! He quickly twisted the hot and cold water knobs on the sink, but no water came out of the faucet. Meanwhile his head was burning up! He had to find water! Looking around desperately, he saw the light reflecting off the fluid in the toilet bowl. Stick his head in the toilet? What choice did he have? Harry quickly did a headstand and dunked his flaming head.

 

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