by Ike Hamill
**********
“We should check the fishing line,” said Jack. They sat in the woods near the edge of the hotel’s clearing. It took a lot of effort and time to reach the hotel and stay away from the normal path.
“Go ahead,” said Stephen. “We’ll wait.”
“Okay.”
Jack crept off to their left and, keeping his head down, made his way up the gully. From the corner of the building, Jack began down the old path and then bent over to look at the ground. A second later he stood up and flashed an “Okay” sign to Ben and Stephen.
Ben grabbed the ladder and Stephen helped him lift it into position. They got it against the side of the porch and then heard a distant ringing. Ben dropped his end of the ladder and pulled out his phone.
“Huh,” said Jack, surprised the phone worked.
“Hey Dad,” said Ben, trying to sound normal. He listened for several moments. “She said that we have to…” he continued. “I just thought…” Throughout the call, Ben never finished a sentence. “What about…” Finally, Ben said “Ok, thanks,” and hung up.
“Was that your dad?” asked Stephen.
“Who else?” asked Ben. “He doesn’t know what my mom’s up to, but he thinks it’s no good.”
“How’s his trial going?”
“Good, I guess.”
“But you’re not going to see him?” asked Jack.
“Nope — I guess not. Must be something my mom wants me to do then,” he said.
“I hope you’re here on Thursday,” said Jack. “That’s when we’re supposed to get the new envelope.”
“Oh yeah,” said Stephen. “We’re going to have to think of a way to watch the place all day.”
“Why day?” asked Ben. “What if they deliver it at night?”
Jack answered — “You’re right, it would be best to start watching Wednesday night, but I don’t know how since we’re sleeping in the house.”
“Do you have a video camera?” Stephen asked.
“Yeah, but we can’t leave it out all night,” said Jack. “Besides, the batteries and tapes only last a few hours.”
“Let’s get inside,” said Stephen. “We can figure this out later.”
**********
On the way in they stopped at each room and Jack wrote down what they knew in a little notebook. Their goal was to document the tricks and traps so they wouldn’t forget anything. It didn’t take them long to write a sentence or two about the rooms — but they still couldn’t figure out a reliable way to trigger the door to the white room. When they reached the end of tripwire hall, they extinguished their lights and waited. For nearly ten minutes they debated possible solutions to inspiring the door to open.
Finally, the sound began, the crack showed and the door swung open to the blinding, white room. Jack wrote “?” in his notebook under “Open door to white room.”
In the attic section, Ben had an idea to solve their problem with the white room — “Why don’t we just figure out how to disarm this trap and lower down the ladder? Then we won’t have to go through the white room at all.”
“I don’t like the idea of breaking this trap,” said Stephen. “Seems like cheating.”
“You guys already broke through the wall in the white room — what are you worried about?”
“I’d be afraid that we wouldn’t be able to trust that ladder,” said Jack. “I mean what if we thought we had the trap disabled but it turned out it was still set?”
“Good point,” said Ben. “At least we know this way is safe.”
“Come on, let’s go down to the spiral room,” said Stephen. “I’ve got an idea about that.”
Stephen jumped across the pit and then they tossed their packs over to him. Once the gear was safely across, Ben and Jack followed.
“So what’s your idea?” asked Jack.
“It’s that people under the stairs thing — I’ll show you,” said Stephen.
They walked through the attic quickly and descended to the spiral room. Stephen explained his theory as soon as they had all reached the spiral tiles.
“See, we checked all the walls in here, but we didn’t check the stairs,” said Stephen.
He walked over to the narrow stairs and set his light down on the floor. Starting with the bottom stair, Stephen tried to lift the tread and pressed against the riser.
“Look at that,” said Jack as he crossed to the stairs to join Stephen. “Look at the wall there.”
Jack pointed his light at the wall above the third tread. There were faint scrape marks up the stud of the bare wall. He reached out to touch the scrape as Stephen lifted on the third tread. His hand was nearly pinched against the stud as a section of the stairs rose easily at Stephen’s push.
“Wow,” said Jack.
“Hold this open, will you?” Stephen asked Jack. He was holding the stairs up with his left hand.
The section stood five stairs high and it pivoted on a hinge at the top. By stepping over the bottom few stairs, Stephen was able to duck through the hole created. He reached back over the stairs to grab his light.
“I think it’s weighted or something,” said Jack. “I don’t have to hold it up — it just stays here.”
“Probably a spring,” said Ben who had come up behind Jack. “Do we have something to prop it open with so it doesn’t close behind us?”
“I think I’ve still got that piece of broom handle,” said Jack. He pulled the piece of wood out of his pack. It was about eighteen inches long. Jack wedged it between the exposed studs and the bottom of the raised section of stairs.
Ben looked at the arrangement with his flashlight. “Oh, look,” he said. Ben was pointing at a latch build onto the underside of the hinged stairs that extended out and engaged a stud. “I think we’re supposed to use this.” He moved the mechanism and it locked against the stud, holding up the stairs.
When they caught up to Stephen he had shuffled down the passage. The walls, floor, and ceiling were all plywood at only five feet high, requiring the boys to hunch over and shuffle their feet.
“Watch where you’re stepping,” said Ben. “Could be another pit or something.”
“Ben, can you set your alarm?” asked Jack. “I want to make sure we start back to the house at four so we’re not late for dinner.”
Ben paused and set his watch while Stephen roamed ahead. Jack waited for Ben and then the two of them moved quickly to catch up. The hall was full of turns and the boys became disoriented; not sure which direction they were headed.
“Man, this is small,” said Jack.
They came to a four-way intersection.
Stephen had stopped, blocking the hall. “Which way?” he asked.
Ben had an idea — “My brother’s friend goes in caves all the time and he said they always put arrows to mark the way out. Anyone got a marker or something.”
“I’ve got a Sharpie,” said Stephen. He pulled it out of his pack and handed it to Ben.
Ben leaned down and drew an arrow on the floor. It pointed back the way they had come. “So, if we have to get back out, we just follow the arrows,” said Ben.
“That’s cool,” said Jack.
“But which way do we go?” asked Stephen.
“I guess it doesn’t matter,” said Ben. “But if we find a dead end or something, at least we won’t get lost.”
“Let’s keep going straight,” said Jack.
For almost an hour they walked hunched over through the corridors. They marked many more intersections, and plenty of dead ends. When they came to a dead end they would back-track to the previous branch and then put a small “x” on the floor. Eventually they came to something new: the passage took a vertical jog. The ceiling opened, but they faced a wall about five feet high.
“This maze is in ‘3D,’” said Stephen. “Awesome — help me up.”
“Wait, how are we all going to get up?” asked Ben.
“Two will go up and then help the other,” said Stephen. “Yo
u go up — I’ll show you.” He laced his fingers together and held out his hands. Ben put a hand on Stephen’s shoulder and then stepped up on to his hands. Stephen lifted him a couple of feet and Ben pulled himself up to the next level.
“You go now,” Stephen said to Jack.
“Nah, I’m lighter than you two. I should go last,” Jack said.
“Makes sense,” said Stephen. “Give me a boost then, would ya?”
Jack boosted Stephen up and Ben helped from above. Then they both leaned over the edge and held out their hands for Jack to pull him up.
“Let me try something first,” said Jack. He handed his light and pack up to Ben.
The passage measured only five feet wide and Jack went to the far right side. Gripping the lip with both hands, he walked his feet up the left-hand side of the wall until he got a foot over the edge. Pulling himself most of the way up, he shot out his left hand at the last second and Ben rolled him onto the edge.
“Pretty good, son,” said Stephen. “I don’t think you even needed help.”
“I need to work on the end-part,” said Jack. “I was stuck.”
Down the corridor they took a left turn followed by right. Another thirty feet along and they faced a five foot drop. Stephen crouched, about to jump down, when Ben stopped him.
“Hey, we only have five minutes until four. Maybe we should head back,” said Ben.
“I just want to see what’s down here,” Stephen said. “We’ll head back when the alarm goes off.”
“We’re just going to have to climb back up though,” said Ben.
“I vote for going until the alarm,” said Jack. “That’s why we set it.”
“Okay,” Ben relented.
They jumped down and found that the hall turned right almost immediately. Six feet later, it ended with a door. Diminutive, but perfectly proportional, the door had an oval-shaped brass handle. It was set into the plywood wall, and it was painted blue with a blue frame.
“Can we even fit through that thing?” Jack asked.
Ben’s alarm sounded and the boys jumped at the sound.
“Let’s go,” said Ben.
They retraced their steps and came to where the corridor jogged up again. Stephen tried Jack’s technique and Ben had to push him over the lip when he could go no further. Ben suffered a similar fate and Stephen grabbed his belt loop and hauled him up.
After handing up his pack, Jack tried a new idea. He used the same positions for his feet and hands, but trotted up to the wall and executed his climb in one smooth motion. Like a high-jumper, he let his momentum pull his weight up and over the edge. Ben and Stephen clapped and whooped approval as Jack made it up on his own.
**********
“You boys are only half awake,” said Jack’s mom at dinner. “Rough day?”
Jack’s had his head turned to the side and propped up on one hand. Ben and Stephen both slumped over their plates.
“We were trying to track a deer,” said Jack. “But it ran too fast.”
“Elbows, Jack,” said his father.
“Hey mom, can we write our diaries in the morning? I’m tired,” said Jack.
“Sure, but they better be done before you go out,” she replied.
The trips back and forth to the hotel had taken their toll. Normally, they could hike that distance with no problem, but they had expended extra energy moving through the woods to avoid Smoker and Bag Man.
“So what’s the most interesting thing you guys have learned this summer?” asked Jack’s dad.
“Ummm, we learned that you can find yellow and black morel mushrooms starting in July,” said Jack.
“It’s easiest to find them four to ten days after a good rain,” said Ben.
“You’re not eating these, I hope?” asked Jack’s dad.
“No, of course not dad,” said Jack. “Oh, and we learned that mosquitos grow in vernal pools.”
“Interesting,” his dad replied. “What are vernal pools?”
“They’re temporary pools that start from springs or spring snow melt,” said Ben. “But they don’t have fish. So salamanders, and frogs, and stuff can live there without being eaten.”
**********
Later, upstairs in Jack’s room, Stephen expressed his disappointment with his friends. “You guys totally wasted all that vernal pool stuff — now what are we going to write about?”
“Relax,” said Jack. “There’s tons of stuff to write about.”
“Yeah, but we had that all worked out,” Stephen sighed. “What a waste.”
“Well what are we supposed to say? ‘Oh no, dad, we didn’t learn anything interesting. Might as well sign us up for soccer camp or hauling trash at one of your work sites,’” said Jack.
“It will take us less time to look up something else, than to argue about it,” said Ben. He was sitting at Jack’s computer and he began to search for another topic. “Hey, you might want to check this out. Looks like it’s going to rain pretty hard tomorrow.”
“What time?” asked Jack.
“Pretty much all day,” said Ben.
“Shit,” said Jack. “The hotel is out then.”
“Why?” asked Stephen. “We can make it inside and then it’s all indoors.”
“My mom thinks we’ll be outside all day,” said Jack. “She won’t want us out in the rain. Plus, we’d have to come home soaked to make it look realistic.”
“Damn,” said Stephen. “I was really looking forward to seeing what’s behind that door. That maze was cool.”
“That reminds me,” Ben got up, “I’ve got to call my mom again.” He walked out of Jack’s room and went to the guest room.
“So what’s the plan then?” asked Stephen.
“I don’t know,” said Jack. “I guess we’ll have to find something else to do tomorrow.”
“What was your dad talking about yesterday?” Stephen asked. “Some job?”
“Wrapping pipes,” Jack said. “I’ve done that for him before. It means he’s working at a place with a bunch of heating pipes and you have to put these covers on all the pipes to keep the heat in.”
“Ugh. Sounds awful,” said Stephen.
“It’s not too bad, but I’d rather just find a way to hang out,” said Jack. “Probably best if we just get up a little late, after he’s gone, and then hang out in the basement.”
“Your mom won’t kick us out?”
“Maybe, but if we’re quiet she might get into her work and not notice us,” said Jack.
**********
The next day, Jack’s plan worked and they spent the morning in the basement, alternating between television and video games. After lunch, they were tired of videos, so they went up to Jack’s room to do their diaries. Ben had the idea of getting ahead on their assignment so they wouldn’t have to worry about it for a few days. He argued that as long as they were stuck inside, they might as well get something out of it. Jack was the fastest writer and had four night’s work done while Ben and Stephen were still wrapping up their second.
Sitting on his bed, Jack was the first to notice the commotion at the Vigue house through a lull in the rain.
“Whoa, check it out,” Jack slid on his bed and pressed his forehead to his window.
Ben and Stephen joined him on the bed and the three of them looked out. Just past the Vigue house they could see several men in jumpsuits carrying furniture and boxes out of Mr. Anderson’s house. Mr. Vigue sat on a folding chair in his lawn, watching the parade of movers.
Jack grabbed his field-glasses and focused on Mr. Vigue. He could make out that Vigue had a beer in his right hand and had his left leg crossed over his right. While Jack watched, Vigue finished his beer and tossed the bottle into Anderson’s yard.
“His furniture is going to get all wet,” said Stephen.
“Who’s that over by the tree?” asked Ben.
Just beyond Anderson’s walkway a tall oak grew in his front yard. Jack could make out the legs of someone leaning against th
e tree. The legs wore jeans; Jack couldn’t see the anything above the waist — a branch from the tree obscured the top half of the figure.
“I can’t see who it is,” said Jack.
“Is it that guy who lives there?” Ben asked. “The guy the police picked up.”
“I don’t think so. Looks too skinny,” Jack answered.
The boys watched men go back and forth, moving items from the house to the van. The back of the van faced away from them, so its contents were a mystery. The legs beneath the tree came towards the path. Just before the person left the shelter of the oak branch, the movers crossed Jack’s line-of-sight with a couch and the jeans stopped. Jack craned his neck in a useless attempt to see past the branch. Finally the movers had passed and the person continued walking.
Jack nearly dropped the field glasses.
The person walking across Anderson’s yard and heading toward Mr. Vigue was Smoker.
“It’s him,” said Jack. “Smoker.”
“Get the fuck out,” whispered Stephen.
“Shhh!” said Ben. “Watch that fucking language in the house,” he giggled.
Smoker walked up to Mr. Vigue and crossed his arms, standing with his feet spread confidently. He tiled his head to the side as he listened. From the back of his head, and the way his arms moved around, Vigue spoke to Smoker with great animation. A few moments later, the Bag Man appeared from under the oak tree and crossed the yard to stand next to the pair.
“The Bag Man,” said Jack. “And he’s got another bag with him.”
“Is it moving?” asked Stephen.
“I don’t think so,” said Jack. “But this one looks heavy.”
As they watched, Vigue handed something to Smoker and then the Bag Man handed his bag to Vigue. Smoker nodded and then walked off towards the street with the Bag Man in tow.
“Are they selling drugs?” asked Stephen.
“Maybe. But I can’t imagine Mr. Vigue buying them,” said Jack. “Although he’s been pretty upset since the Gabe thing.”
“Oh, that’s the guy who had his kid abducted?” Stephen asked.
“Yeah,” said Ben. “That’s Gabe’s dad.”
“Holy shit,” said Stephen. “He must be pissed. Maybe they sold him a weapon or something.”