by Lucy Carol
All that was left to do, was to look in the box.
Chapter Nine
She got up and went to the window, looking down into the parking lot. Everything looked quiet. A few cars driving normal speed passed by on the street in front of the apartment building. Now that the time had finally come to face whatever was in the box, she delayed. She was afraid that something was about to change forever. She had grown up and stopped playing in the tool shed, but the secrets that were safely hidden in there were ready to come out. She closed the window and drew the blinds shut. Tearing off her sad and dirty fairy godmother costume, she threw it over to the couch where it landed on top of unpacked boxes. In bra and panties she went over to her sink and drank water from her faucet. She was dehydrated and starving and the water felt wonderful going down her throat. But food would have to wait. She didn’t know how upsetting the contents of the box were going to be, so she’d rather not have food in her stomach.
She sat on the floor next to the box, and opened it.
The hinges creaked and complained as she lifted the lid and looked inside. A big clump of folded up papers that were fastened together with large old rusty metal paper clips sat on top of what appeared to be a wad of folded up, light colored fabric, as if the fabric had been padding for the box. The papers seemed to be yellowed newspaper pages or clippings. With a delicate hand, Madison lifted out the papers, careful not to touch the rusty edges of the paper clips, and briefly wondered how long ago paper clips started being made with plastic. There were also folded pieces of cardboard tucked along the walls within the box. For extra padding maybe? Everything appeared to be dirty or stained.
Okay, she thought, so nothing here is obvious. No money, blueprints, or diamonds. Not even one body part. So far, so good. Perhaps the dreaded secret was something in the newspaper stories. She decided she would spread all the papers out on the floor, and one by one, inspect…
She heard steps outside in the hallway. Her heart rate sped up a tiny bit as she got up and looked out the peephole. She saw the backs of people walking past her door at a casual speed, their voices a low murmur with the occasional chuckle echoing in the hall as they continued walking. Sounded like a man and a woman. Just other residents. Everything was okay. Except for her nerves.
She returned to the box and the papers on the floor. Looking down at the seemingly harmless contents, she had to remind herself that her grandfather had fought like a man possessed, and it was somehow related to the contents of this box. He had said “These people are still very dangerous.” But to whom was he was referring? And who the hell was Ned? It hadn’t sounded like her grandfather’s voice which meant it had to be the stranger who’d been yelling it. But why would he be calling her grandfather Ned? His name was Vincent. Vincent Cruz.
And there was another thing that was really bugging her. Grandpa had said they hacked in and found him. But who would have the sophistication to hack into the UW archives? And why bother? Her grandfather lived an open life. He wouldn’t be hard to find.
A more disturbing memory strong-armed its way to the front of her mind. He had actually been putting duct tape on that man’s mouth! She had never seen that in real life. He probably wanted to keep him quiet so the neighbors didn’t alert the police. So if Grandpa needed time to go get help, and he said it would take days, then someone would have to feed and water the duct taped stranger while Grandpa was gone. That must be who he was referring to on the voicemail. But who would that be? Who would Grandpa trust?
Tears flooded her eyes. She was feeling that scared-little-girl moment again. Damn it, Madison, not now. Fight it. She roughly wiped away the tears and inhaled through her nose as hard as she could. My job is to hide the box, but they must know now that I brought it into my apartment. She had to go somewhere where it would be safe to look over those papers and try to figure out what was happening. And that meant getting dressed because fleeing in your bra and panties was never a good idea.
She hurried into her bedroom and threw on some jeans, a tank top, and athletic shoes. She didn’t know when she’d be back. She took a quick look around the room. ExBoy was right. The neglect in her bedroom, hell, in her whole apartment, would be turning into mutiny status soon. She had a hard time remembering what was dirty laundry and what was clean. Laundry. Good thought. Maybe she could hang out at Spenser’s house and get a load done there. Madison was quite skilled as a seamstress, having learned from her grandmother. The usual deal was Madison would fix hems, tears, buttons; anything Spenser might need in exchange for the use of Spenser’s washer, dryer, and laundry soap.
She pulled her pillowcase off of her pillow and stuffed it full of dirty laundry and some probably-dirty laundry. She kicked through some of the clothes on the floor. Good thing it was August. It was easy to get by in lightweight clothing in warm weather, making it easier to pack a lot of stuff.
As her toe pushed aside a spare blanket on the floor, a little baby zombie peeked out from underneath. The t-shirt that ExBoy had come looking for. She picked it up and noticed ExBoy’s scent still on it. She buried her face in it for a moment. There was something about his natural scent that reminded her of the forest and the deep shadows under heavy tree growth.
Clearly he was attracted to her, too, but his behavior around her was confusing. A friendly smile one minute, lost in some uncomfortable thought the next. Maybe he was as unsure about her as she was about him. Whatever it was, the effect was that she never felt relaxed around him.
He was an artist with a flair for writing. But his art was comic book monsters, and he wrote horror stories. In particular, he loved zombies. He thought zombies were fascinating, scary, cool, and funny all at the same time. And though she didn’t have strong feelings one way or the other for the horror genre, it bothered her that he wouldn’t talk about it, about something that meant a lot to him. Spenser had called him mysterious and brooding, but to Madison he was more like Dark Peter Pan.
She regretted how hard she had been on him lately. It wasn’t his fault that her life was a mess. She looked at the silly t-shirt and remembered him wearing it when his arms were around her, his face seeking hers as she giggled and turned her head side to side, playing hard to kiss. Her giggles turned to giggling screams as he settled for her neck, and her ticklishness took over. Playful wrestling took them down to the bare carpet in her new apartment. Then as stronger urges came on, they had torn off their shirts just as other friends knocked on the door, arriving to help with moving in.
Conflicted, she pulled her shirt back on, and ran to open the door. But he hadn’t put his shirt back on, and finished the move that hot July day with his shirt off, giving her a knowing smile whenever he caught her looking at him.
Maybe she should pick up where they had left off that day. Sample the bait. Just a little? She stuffed the baby zombie t-shirt into the pillowcase to wash it with the rest of the laundry.
She went back into the living room and emptied out the tote bag. She carefully placed the fabric and the papers from the metal box into the tote, and although it seemed stupid, she added the cardboard tucked along the sides, which remained flat from all the years of being stored that way.
She then put the contents that had been in the tote bag into the metal box. If anyone were to open that metal box now, they would find a watercolor paint set, little paint brushes, a storybook, a balloon pump, a bag of long skinny balloons, her magic wand with the rhinestone star on the end, and fairy wings. The contents from the metal box and the tote bag had officially been switched. Last of all, she closed the lid on the metal box and jammed it back in place. It seemed just as rusted closed as before.
She stacked several of her unpacked moving boxes by the living room window, then put the metal box on top. She pulled the blinds open so that from the parking lot, if anyone were really trying, they would be able to spot the metal box through the window. If anyone had seen her running out of Grandpa’s house, they would have seen her clutching the box like her life depended
on it. And if they had followed her and were watching, they would likely stick around and wait for her to drive away before entering her apartment to get the box. She hoped.
Carrying the tote, her purse, and the pillowcase of laundry, she left her apartment and headed into the outer hallway.
She stopped at Toonie’s door and knocked. After a moment she knew Toonie must be looking at her through the peephole before opening the door. She didn’t know how to compose her face for the peephole because she didn’t truly understand what it was she needed to say. She heard a few locks turning and the door opened up. Toonie stood there towering, her hands on her hips, and her stern face considering Madison.
“Toonie.” she began and stopped. “I’ve been a weird neighbor, and I don’t know how to fix it. I suppose my actions have been confusing. Well, nothing is making sense to me right now but I don’t want to be that person who doesn’t give a shit about their neighbors. I do care. This morning I felt like an ass to realize you were probably sick last night when I was yelling and drilling, and… Are you feeling better?
“Young lady, you have a way of pissing me off and endearing yourself to me at the same time. Kind of like having kids, I guess. Yeah, I’m better. It ain’t no virus. I think my new blood pressure medication doesn’t like this new diet.” She shook her head. “I don’t know what’s going on with you, running back and forth in the hallway like your hair is on fire.” Toonie sighed and said, “Wait here.” She disappeared from the door for a moment and returned with a plastic baggie with some cookies in it. “This is my own recipe. People beg me for it, but I don’t give it out.” She held the baggie up in the air. “Now if you ever want some of these again, and trust me you will, you will behave yourself around here.” She handed the baggie to Madison. “And whatever it is you’re going through, don’t go making emotional decisions. Make smart ones.”
Madison pressed her lips together hard as she smiled and fought new tears. She took the baggie with cookies. “Toonie, I’d kiss you if you weren’t so tall.”
“Humph. I’ve heard that from a few men over the years.” She looked off in the distance and murmured, “But eventually they couldn’t help themselves.”
Madison put the baggie into her tote. “I have to go.”
Toonie said, “Last night when you were yelling out the window, you said you were an accident. What did you mean by that?”
“I wasn’t supposed to be born.”
“Aw, now, your mama don’t feel that way.”
Madison was quiet for a moment. “Honestly? I don’t think I was a good idea.”
*****
Madison pulled up in front of Spenser’s home, a brown two-story house in the suburbs. Before heading to Spenser’s front door, she sat in her parked car taking a moment to consider what her next move should be. She decided to stick with her earlier plan of calling her mother, Ann, about getting together for coffee today. Not only did she need to face her mother about the adventures in Fight Cabaret last night, she needed more information about her grandfather’s friends, the ones from his past. There was no way she was going to wait around for him to explain himself. Someone was helping her grandfather at this very moment and she needed to find that friend and make them tell her what the hell was going on. Her mother was the best chance she had of figuring out where to start, but Madison had to be careful not to tip her off that anything was wrong. Grandpa’s mandate to Madison was to hide the box, but he had also said to go about her normal life. Normal? She wondered for a moment if he’d forgotten who he was talking to.
She called up her mother and held her breath while she heard the phone ringing on the other end. A quick voice, all business answered, “Ann Cruz.”
“Mom? Mom, it’s Madison. Do you have a minute?”
“Oh.” There was a pause. “Well, hello! Uh…” She gave a small laugh. Madison recognized her mother’s nervous chuckle. “I’m sorry but you caught me off guard. I had no idea it would be you.”
“I’m sorry, Mom. Calling you at work like this.”
“No, no. It’s okay. I just had to get in a different head space. Believe me, hearing your voice is much better than what I was expecting.”
Madison tried chuckling back. “What were you expecting?”
Silence, then, “I’m sorry, honey, you know I’m not allowed to talk about my cases.”
“Sorry,” said Madison. The silence resumed and Madison heard someone clearing their throat in the background. Maybe that person was waiting for Ann to get off the phone. “I can call another time,” Madison said.
“No. I’m sorry, Madness, please… I’d love to talk to you. Tell me what’s going on with you.”
Madison smirked. She’d forgotten about the pet name, Madness, that her mother had called her when she was younger.
“I know this is spur of the moment but I was wondering if you’d be available for coffee today. We can meet at your office, maybe go to a cafe, have a chance to catch up.”
Ann’s voice came out in a barely audible, “Wow.” She resumed normal volume and said, “I would love that, as long as you let me multi-task. I’m supposed to be going over some photos for a retirement party. Remember Jerry Rosser?”
“Of course I do!” The cheer in Madison’s voice was real. “I loved Uncle Jerry.”
“He’s retiring at the end of this week. I have to look at those photos, but I’ll have you with me. It’ll be fun.”
“Okay.” Madison hesitated before pushing on. “Also,” she took a deep breath and tried to steady her nerves, “I want to explain about last night. What you saw was a performance, not the reality of what I’m like in the everyday kind of way.”
After a pause Ann’s voice sounded cautious saying, “I’m glad to hear that. I admit I wasn’t sure what was going on.” Another pause. “So, do you do that sort of thing very often?”
“No, it was a one-time gig to make a little extra money. I know it looked bad but it was just a show.”
“I imagine to that crowd it was a wonderful success,” said Ann. “You were… very convincing.” Madison could picture her nodding right now, straining to give a compliment.
“Thanks. So, I’ll stop by your office in a couple hours.”
“They’ll only allow you to go as far as the reception area. I’ll tell them to expect you and they’ll call me to come down and meet you there. Try not to wear anything with a lot of metal in it. Bring your ID. I hope you’re not ticklish anymore.”
“Excuse me?”
“For the pat down. Oh, and you’ll need to park out on the street, then enter by walking through the garage. Follow instructions from the guards. Have your ID out and ready. And remember, Jerry is not supposed to know about the party.”
As soon as they hung up, Madison knew she had to move quickly in order to go over Grandpa’s mysterious papers in Spenser’s house, and then get over to the FBI building where Ann worked in downtown Seattle.
Chapter Ten
Spenser opened her door before Madison had even knocked. “All right, what’s going on?” she asked.
“Huh?”
“Don’t ‘huh’ me,” Spenser said. “Get in here. You hungry?” Spenser headed for the kitchen as Madison followed with her tote bag and pillowcase of laundry. The savory smells hit her nose. “Oh God that smells good!”
“Daniel will be back soon,” said Spenser. “He went to get some artisan bread to go with the stew.” Madison sat at the kitchen table while Spenser stirred a pot on the stove and continued, “You never come over unannounced unless you’re worried about something.” She squinted at Madison. “I saw you sitting in your car talking on the phone with that anxious look you get. Did you find out ExBoy got a new girlfriend or something?”
“Huh. I wish it were that simple,” said Madison. “Actually that might solve at least one of my problems. If he got a new girlfriend I could stop trying to figure out how I feel about him.”
“Looks pretty straightforward to me. You want him. He wants you
. What’s there to figure out?”
“Well for starters, how about whether or not it would be a good idea? Everything I know about him I had to find out from other people. He won’t talk about himself.”
Spenser grabbed a bowl out of her cupboard, ladling stew into it saying, “Do you like what people say about him?” She placed the bowl of stew with a spoon in front of Madison.
“Well, yeah. But why is he a closed book with me while he’s open with everyone else? Feels weird.”
“This is kind of odd. But I think it’s about sex.”
“You think everything is about sex.”
“You’re driving yourself crazy. Just fuck him and get it over with.”
“Spenser!”
“Do what comes natural.”
Madison realized her mouth was hanging open. Spenser had a way of naming problems and solutions in the earthiest manner possible. And although she was often right, she wasn’t always right. Madison wasn’t even sure what it was she felt about ExBoy and wanted more time to explore it. It bugged her that Spenser could reduce it to such a carnal level, so she decided to fix Spenser’s perceptions right now.
“Well, maybe I already did. Did you ever think about that?”
Spenser looked at her a moment and smirked. “You little slut.”
“That’s right,” Madison said, hoping Spenser wouldn’t see through her. Madison was tired of being the one who never got laid.
Spenser giggled. “Now c’mon, eat your stew and tell me what’s wrong because I can tell that something is.”
Madison picked up the spoon, tasting the stew. “Oh, Spensy!” She gobbled a few bites. “Mmm. That’s so…” the spoon clicked against the side of the bowl as she swallowed, “…good.” She grabbed one more mouthful as she wondered how much she should say. After feeling so scared and alone today she wanted to tell her everything. Grandpa had specified not to tell Ann. The significance of that still weighed on her. But he hadn’t specified not to tell Spenser, and in fact, just last night he had referred to Spenser as family saying he would trust her with anything. Madison decided that was good enough to be permission. She put the spoon into the bowl and pushed the bowl away.