by David Gordon
While Mrs. Lightfoot was unlocking the door to the apartment, Alejandro was glancing at Mr. Sombra, who was still sitting in his chair at the end of the hall. Sami, however, was not glancing at the big man; she was staring right at him.
He stared back at her.
Sami cocked her head to one side and called out to him, “Don’t you ever get tired of just sitting there?”
The expression on his face did not change at all; he just continued to stare at her. The door to the apartment was open now, so Mrs. Lightfoot dragged Sami inside. Alejandro followed them in and closed the door.
As soon as she had locked the door, Sami’s mother seemed to fall apart. She dropped her purse on the floor, covered her face with her hands, and began to sob. It had been a frightening and stressful day. She had been scared to death and feeling helpless while she waited in the car, watching her daughter climb a wall and head off to break into a house. And an hour later, Melanie had found herself lying to a policeman in a police station! Meanwhile, her daughter is off trying to start a jailbreak! In fact, it had been the most frightening, most stressful, and strangest day of Melanie’s life. And now that she was home again and safe, all of that fear and stress was free to gush out of her, like lava pouring out of a volcano.
Being home was having a different effect on Sami. She was not feeling safe; she was feeling weird. She felt out of place. She felt confined. It had been the most frightening, most stressful, and strangest day of her life, too. But after the things she had done that day, her apartment seemed so…so small. She stood in the living room, in a kind of trance. She saw nothing around her. Instead, her mind was filled with images of her wild day. It had been a wonderful day. Now, as her trance faded and she noticed the sofa, the television, the video games…she wondered what she was doing here in this tiny place.
Alejandro was glad to be anywhere BUT at his own home.
And their strange day was about to get stranger. Much stranger.
Mrs. Lightfoot had to blow her nose three times, drink some water, take two aspirin, and wash her face (using a little of their precious bottled water because the building water would not be back on until tomorrow morning) before she could even speak to Sami and Alejandro again. She patted her face dry with a dishtowel, then walked the few steps to the living room area. Sami and Alejandro were sprawled on the couch, staring into space.
Melanie gazed down at the two children and remembered all of the dangerous things they had done that day—all of the dangerous things she had let them do! She felt very foolish and very guilty. She knew that Alejandro would probably get a beating from his father when he got home, and it was her fault. She was an adult and should have known better than to help the kids with their crazy schemes. Her headache started to hammer at her skull.
“Are you sure,” she asked Alejandro, “that your father will find out what you two really did at the jail today?”
Alejandro sat up. “Oh yeah. Definitely. He’s probably seen the video by now.”
Mrs. Lightfoot grimaced and grabbed her head. “Ohh,” she moaned. “I have to lie down until this goes away. Please don’t make any noise. Wake me up at five so I can take Alejandro home.”
The moment after she disappeared down the hall, she reappeared and said, “You two stay in here.”
Sami and Alejandro nodded.
Mrs. Lightfoot disappeared again, then popped back in. “Are you sure you told me everything that happened in the jail?” she asked them.
“Yes, mom,” Sami assured her. “Everything.”
Mrs. Lightfoot nodded, then disappeared. Then she suddenly reappeared once again, and waved a finger at the children. “Don’t you two even think about leaving this apartment!”
They waited and watched for Mrs. Lightfoot to pop in yet again, but instead this time they heard her bedroom door close. Alejandro settled into the sofa cushions. Sami, however, sat on the edge of the sofa, full of energy. She chopped the air with her right hand and said, “Now that’s why I didn’t tell her everything.”
“What do you mean?” Alejandro wanted to know.
“That’s why I didn’t tell her about helping Brian get back to Adonae. I knew she wouldn’t let us.”
“She’s just tired,” Alejandro suggested.
Sami shook her head. “No. She’s done. My mom isn’t going any further with this. I can tell.”
“Well, I guess that’s it then.”
Sami leapt to her feet, jammed her fists onto her hips, and glared down at Alejandro. “So you’re not going to help me.” She said it like an accusation.
“Help you what?” he asked.
“Get Brian back to Adonae.”
Now it was Alejandro’s turn to leap to his feet. “How are we supposed to do that?” he hissed angrily. “How do we get to Brian’s house without your mom driving us? Then we have to get past the police again, too, you know. How do we even get Brian past that goon out in the hallway?”
Sami grinned at him and said, “I’ve been thinking…”
The truth was that Mr. Sombra was tired of sitting in that hallway. He leaned forward, planted his elbows on his knees, and rested his chin on his knuckles. What am I doing here? he asked himself. That little Adonae monster could be almost anywhere in the city by now. True, those two bratty friends of his might lead me to the boy. But then again, maybe they really don’t know where he is now. And I’m really, really sick of just sitting here.
These thoughts made Mr. Sombra feel very grumpy.
Then the door to Sami’s apartment opened. Mr. Sombra instantly sat up and made his face look blank again. It was hard for him to keep his face blank when he saw the ghost come out of the apartment. He assumed it was that girl brat under the flapping white sheet. The two eyeholes and the bottom of the sheet were so ragged and uneven that they looked like Sami had used her teeth to cut them. Sticking out below the bottom of the sheet, Mr. Sombra recognized Sami’s glittery, ruby red sneakers.
Oh, yeah, Mr. Sombra reminded himself, it’s nearly Halloween. He started to relax, but then that troublemaker friend of hers came out and surprised Mr. Sombra even more. Alejandro was wearing two tablecloths (one was yellow and had dozens of little chickens and baskets of eggs printed on it; the other had a blue and red checkerboard pattern). The chicken and eggs tablecloth was draped around his left side and pinned over his right shoulder; the checkerboard cloth was draped around his right side and pinned over his left shoulder. The bottom of his pants were rolled up and hidden beneath the tablecloths. In his right hand he was carrying the long, wooden handle to a mop. Alejandro did not looked very pleased to be dressed like this.
Of course, Mr. Sombra had no idea what the boy was supposed to be because he did not know about Konoko. What Mr. Sombra did know, however, was that both of these kids were trouble. And seeing them dressed up like this made him suspicious and ready for anything. He leaned forward in his chair so that he would be ready to jump up immediately if he needed to.
Alejandro quietly closed the door to Sami’s apartment. They stepped over to Mr. Sanchez’s door. Sami got her arm out from under her sheet and knocked. Mr. Sombra thought, So they’re going to visit that old fool, eh?
As if she had heard his thoughts, at that same moment Sami turned to look at Mr. Sombra through the dark eyeholes in her sheet.
“Boo,” she said, then turned back to the door.
There was the metallic clicking of locks turning, and the door opened. Mr. Sanchez was clearly surprised at what he found waiting at his door. “Already?!” he cried.
“No, it’s not Halloween yet,” explained Sami from beneath her sheet. “We’re going to a Halloween party. We need you to help us with our costumes.”
Mr. Sanchez tilted his head as he examined her costume, then nodded and said, “You certainly do need help. It looks like you chewed that sheet with your teeth! Come in, come in.”
He stepped aside and they slipped into his apartment. Mr. Sanchez smiled and nodded at the unblinking Mr. Sombra, who was watching him clo
sely. Mr. Sanchez closed and locked the door.
By the time Mr. Sanchez turned around, Sami’s sheet was fluttering to the floor and she was on her knees, digging away at the pile of CDs beside the stereo. “Hey, Brian!” she whispered.
“Hello, Sami,” he said from behind her. She whipped around. Brian was poking his head out from behind the hall closet door.
She jumped up, he came all the way out of the closet, and they hugged right in front of Alejandro.
“Why are you dressed like that?” Brian asked Alejandro.
Alejandro, who really was feeling silly standing there holding his broom handle spear, tugged at the tablecloths and sneered at himself, “Because I’m an idiot.”
“Shh!’ hissed Sami. She had a finger to her lips and was pointing at Mr. Sanchez’s front door. The others turned to look. At the bottom of the door there was a thin space. Moving back and forth in that thin space now was a thin shadow. There was no doubt in anyone’s mind who was standing outside the door.
“Well children,” Mr. Sanchez announced loudly, “come into the living room and we will see what we can do about these costumes.” He herded the three friends away from the door and into furthest corner of the living room, in front of the wall of postcards. “How about some music?” He pressed a button on his CD player and an accordion, guitars, and horns started playing some bouncy Mexican music. Mr. Sanchez turned the volume up a little more, then leaned in close to Sami and Alejandro and said, “What are you two doing here?”
“We saw Shareen today,” she said.
“Impossible!” said Mr. Sanchez, shaking his head.
“No, really.” Sami turned to Brian. “We saw your mom. And your dad…kind of.”
Brian’s eyes opened until they looked like huge, gold coins. “You have? Where? Are they alright?”
Before she could answer him, Mr. Sanchez had his hands on her shoulders and had turned her to face him. “What’s going on?” he demanded.
Sami gently pushed him on the chest, saying, “You’d better sit down, Mr. Sanchez.” He plopped back onto the green velvet chair. He reached out and pulled Brain over beside him, and the two of them fixed their eyes on Sami. “We have a lot to tell you,” she began.
Mr. Sombra was disgusted. He had been standing with his ear to the door of Mr. Sanchez’s apartment for half an hour, but all he had heard was that annoying music, footsteps, doors and drawers opening and closing, and occasionally the sound of voices. But he could not make out what they were saying. He thought of simply breaking down the door (something he could do with little trouble) and catching them at… at what? If they were really just fixing those ridiculous Halloween costumes of theirs, he would look like a fool bursting in on them. So instead he pressed his ear even closer to the door and felt even more disgusted.
Then the music stopped and Mr. Sombra heard footsteps coming toward the door. As quick as a cat, he zipped back to his chair. By the time the door opened, he was sitting there exactly as he had been before, watching and with a face that looked as if it had been carved from stone.
The first one out the door this time was the boy in the tablecloths. Mr. Sombra noticed that now he was also wearing a colorful necklace and that the broom handle had a cardboard point taped to one end to make it look more like a spear. Right behind him was that brat, Sami, in her sheet. Mr. Sombra saw that now the bottom of the sheet and the eyeholes had been trimmed neatly with scissors. Her glittering red shoes still looked strange on a ghost. This time she did not bother to say anything to Mr. Sombra, or even look at him. She and the other kid simply started walking away, down the hall.
Mr. Sombra saw the old Mexican, Sanchez, step out of his apartment to watch the kids go. Just as they neared the top of the stairs, the old man called out, “You kids be careful at the party.” They stopped and looked back at him. “I’ll call your mom, Sami, to let her know where you are.” He pulled his cell phone out of his pants pocket and waggled it at the two kids and nodded reassuringly.
But in waving the cell phone it slipped from his fingers and fell. When it hit the floor the two halves of the phone flipped open and the little screen light flickered on. Then, from its tiny speakers, Mr. Sombra and the others heard, “Is it working?” At the sound of Brian’s voice, Mr. Sombra jerked upright in his chair and blinked once. The recording continued, “Yes.” “Should I talk now?” “Yes, yes, go ahead!” Mr. Sombra jumped to his feet. Mr. Sanchez snatched the cell phone up from the floor and fumbled with it, desperate to shut it off, but it kept playing. “Hello, Sami. Oh, and Mrs. Lightfoot. Uh, I’m okay. Mr. Sanchez has been playing a lot of interesting music for me.” Mr. Sombra snarled like a lion. Alejandro shoved Sami on down the stairs. Mr. Sombra sprang for the doorway into Mr. Sanchez’s apartment, knocking him to the floor. The cell phone flew out of his hand and across the floor, but continued to play. “Uh…uh, I’m okay. What should I say?” “Just tell them whatever you want them to know.” “I miss you, Sami-”
Mr. Sombra charged into the apartment, now sure that he would find Brian hiding in there. He stood for a moment, breathing hard and scanning the room. He saw no one at first, then he saw the tip of a sneaker being pulled back behind the green chair. He pounced on the big chair and threw it aside. Crouched there, looking up at him, was Sami.
Stunned, Mr. Sombra stared down at the girl. But a second later his brain started working again and he realized who had really been under the sheet that had just run downstairs. These children had made a fool of him. Again! He was so furious all he could do and say was to point at Sami and growl, “You!”
He spun around, intending to run after Brian. But before Mr. Sombra got all the way around he belched out a huge “Oof!” and went flying backwards into the bookcase. The bookcase and its hundreds of books toppled over, knocking him to the floor.
Amazed, Sami looked up to see Mr. Sanchez standing there, his chest heaving and his eyes looking wild. He jerked his head and told her, “Andale! Go on!”
But before she could get herself to move, Mr. Sombra rose up again to his feet, with books and shelves rolling off of him, like muck rolling off a monster rising from a swamp. He leapt at Mr. Sanchez, and Sami cried out, sure that her friend would be crushed.
But that is not what happened, which probably surprised Mr. Sombra as much as it surprised Sami.
Before Mr. Sombra’s hands could reach Mr. Sanchez, the old man had grabbed both of Mr. Sombra’s wrists. He tried to twist himself free, but Mr. Sanchez’s grip was too strong for him. Mr. Sombra began throwing himself about, trying to break free. Still huddled on the floor, Sami was wondering how Mr. Sanchez had suddenly become so strong. But before she could think more about this, Mr. Sombra broke free and knocked her friend to his knees. Mr. Sanchez gasped then yelled fiercely at Sami, “Go!”
She scrambled to her feet and raced to the door. But she stopped. How could she leave Mr. Sanchez like this? She turned and saw Mr. Sombra holding the huge green chair over his head, intending to crash it down on the head of Mr. Sanchez, who had his hands up to protect himself. Without turning to look at her, he ordered her again, “Go!!” She turned immediately and ran out. As she ran down the hall to the stairs she heard behind her the sickening sound of a crash coming from the apartment of Mr. Sanchez.
Chapter 19
“scraaape…whump!”