by Olivia Snowe
“Sorry,” he said, kind of meekly. “Is it serious?”
She shrugged. Her slicker squeaked. She pulled up the big red hood. Caleb took that as a yes.
“Hey!” he said in the brightest voice he could manage. “You should get her some flowers.”
She shrugged again.
“Honest,” Caleb said. “The grocery on the next corner is open late. They probably have bouquets.”
Cassie looked at him over her shoulder. He nodded, and she smiled.
“Good idea,” she said. “Thanks.”
“Sure,” said Caleb. He took a long, deep breath through his nose.
The smell of chicken soup and warm sandwiches filled his soul. His stomach growled and roared.
“I better get home,” he said. “Bye, Cassie.”
“Bye,” she said.
~7~
“I don’t know your name,” Cassie said as the boy turned and started off along Thirteenth Street.
He turned, and the light from a street lamp shone down from behind him.
“My name is Woolf,” he said. “Caleb Woolf.”
“Bye, Caleb Woolf,” Cassie said. The rain started falling harder.
“Bye, Cassie Cloak,” he said as he started off again. “See you soon.”
* * *
The grocery store on the corner was still open. Just inside the front door, on a tiered wooden display, were buckets of flower bouquets, all premade and wrapped in thick cellophane.
Cassie stood in front of them, letting her gaze fall from one to the next and the next. There were too many, in every color and every size, and she couldn’t decide.
Her phone rang in her pocket. Quickly, she set down the heavy box of food and dug into her jeans pocket.
“Hi, Mom,” she said.
“Cassie!” her mom said. Her voice was too loud, like it usually was on the phone. Cassie could tell she was anxious, too. “I just got off the phone with your grandma. We’re both worried sick!”
“I’m fine,” Cassie said. Maurice’s troll face flashed across her mind. An instant later, she remembered Caleb Woolf’s toothy grin. Her breath caught in her chest.
“Why aren’t you there yet?” her mom pleaded. “You should have been there ages ago!”
“It’s raining!” Cassie squealed back at her mom. “I had to wait for it to stop. Also I decided to pick up some flowers.”
The phone was quiet a moment.
“Hello?” Cassie said, squinting at the phone.
“Hi,” her mom said. “Okay, sweetie. We just worry about you. Now hurry along and get to your grandma’s apartment so we know you’re safe.”
“I will,” Cassie said. Her eyes settled on a simple bouquet of small yellow flowers. “You’ll pick me up at eight thirty, right?”
“Right-o,” her mom said. Cassie could hear that she was smiling now. She hung up, bought the flowers, and laid them on top of her box of food. It was only another couple of blocks to Tall Pines.
~8~
Caleb stood at the far corner, hidden in shadow, and watched Cassie Cloak step into the late-night grocery store.
He counted to five to make sure she wasn’t coming right back out. Then, with his basketball tucked under his arm, he sprinted back up Thirteenth Street.
At the avenue, he didn’t stop. He turned hard to the right and ran as fast as he could straight to Tall Pines.
The storm had fully passed Forestville. Up ahead, low over the woods beyond the city, Caleb could see the flat bottoms of dark, heavy clouds. Thunder clapped. Lightning crashed across the sky, threatening to connect with the treetops.
At the apartment building’s front door, Caleb stopped. He tossed his basketball behind the shrubs that flanked the main entrance. He didn’t think anyone would want him to bring it inside, and behind the bushes it would be hidden well enough.
Caleb pushed through the front door. He tried the second door, but found it locked.
A phone hung on the wall beside the door. Next to the phone was a list of names.
Caleb ran his finger down the list. “Abramson . . . Bennet . . . Breslin . . . ah!” he said, grinning. “Here it is: Cloak. Number 516.”
He grabbed the phone and dialed the number. It rang several times.
He nearly gave up. But finally a woman answered. Her voice was deep and husky, like she was very tired. Her accent, too, betrayed her age. It was just like the old man’s at the deli.
“You’re late,” she said.
Caleb didn’t speak. He held his breath, hoping the old lady wouldn’t press for a response.
A moment passed. The woman sighed. “Just a second,” she said, as if she were out of breath.
Caleb quickly set down the phone. A few seconds later, there came a loud and irritating buzz. The second door unlocked. He slipped in, letting the door close behind him. He hurried to the elevator and soon was on his way to the fifth floor.
The hallway smelled of lemon-scented cleanser. The lights—long and white—flickered as he passed under them. He heard televisions and laughter coming through the door as he passed Apartment 507.
He passed Apartment 511. There were kids screaming and running, thumping into walls. “Quiet down!” their mother shouted, and everything went silent.
At 516, Caleb found the door open, just a little. Cassie’s grandmother must have opened it for her after buzzing the downstairs door. Caleb just strolled in. He let the door close and lock behind him.
The apartment was mostly dark. A light shone in the kitchen and down the little front hall. Caleb could smell flowers and tea.
“I’ve set the table,” Cassie’s grandma called from the other room. “And please, dear, take a moment to hang up your raincoat in the bathroom. I don’t want you dripping water all over my apartment.”
Caleb pulled off his hoodie and tossed it into the bathroom as he walked past. His basketball shoes squeaked and squished on the parquet floor.
“Your shoes, too!” Grandma called out. Then she muttered under her breath, “Fool child.”
Caleb smiled. He stepped into the light of the kitchen, grinning as big and bright as all outdoors.
Grandma dropped her teacup. It shattered as it hit the ceramic tile floor.
~9~
Grandma buzzed her in without a word. She usually said “Hello,” or “You’re late,” or “Come on up, Cassandra!”
But this night, the door buzzed an instant after Cassie called 516. The intercom phone went quiet immediately after.
“She must be really annoyed,” Cassie said to herself.
The elevator bumped and shook its way up to the fifth floor. She pulled out her phone to check the time: nearly an hour late. And as usual, no service in Grandma’s building.
“Must be made of lead blocks or something,” Cassie muttered. She walked down the hall on the fifth floor, looking at the bars on her phone display. She’d have one, then none, then one again.
The door to 516 stood just a little open, as always. “Knock, knock,” she called into the dark apartment. “Grandma?” She pushed the door open all the way with her foot.
She could smell Grandma’s jasmine tea. She could also mell a bouquet of flowers. Oh well, Cassie thought, thinking about the bouquet she’d picked out. Can never have too many flowers, I guess.
“Grandma?” she called.
She set down the box of food and pulled off her red raincoat. It wasn’t so wet anymore, so she hung it up next to the door. She left her shoes on the mat and carried the box to the kitchen.
“Where are you?” she said, setting the food on the table. It was set for the two of them, and the kitchen light was on and flickering, like always. The bouquet of flowers in the center of the table was bright yellow.
She must be in the bathroom, Cassie decided, and she began unloading the big box from Mauri
ce’s. “I got extra soup,” she called. Some noise came from the bathroom, but no response. “I thought it might make you feel a little better.”
In the bathroom, behind the closed door, something fell and shattered.
“Grandma?” Cassie said. She stepped slowly down the dark back hall toward the bathroom. The light from inside shone under the door, sending shadows of hanging family photos in long, angular shapes up the hall walls and onto the ceiling.
A chill struck Cassie’s shoulders and she shook. “Grandma?” she said. “Are you okay?”
No answer. She reached very slowly for the doorknob. “I’m coming in,” she said. The moment her hand was on the knob, the door burst open, knocking her onto her back.
Her head struck the parquet floor hard—too hard. The last thing she saw was a vaguely familiar face with a big, white smile. As she drifted out of consciousness, the face became a wolf’s face, baring its fangs in a wicked grin, the look of hunger about to be sated.
~10~
Caleb dropped to one knee beside the girl. “Oh, man,” he said to himself. “I didn’t mean to knock her down.”
Cassie’s belly moved up and down, Caleb noticed. He could even see her pulse on her throat. “She’ll be okay,” he said to himself.
He looked back into the open bathroom. Cassie’s grandma lay on her belly on the floor with her hands and feet tied and tape placed over her mouth.
“Sorry,” Caleb said. “She’ll wake up in a minute, I think.” Then he jumped to his feet and ran for the kitchen. The box was empty, its contents placed out on the table.
There was soup—two big containers of it. There was a small cake in a paper box. There were two foil packages—sandwiches, probably. There was a plastic box, too, filled with cubes of something—marbled with chocolate, it looked like.
Caleb grabbed the sandwiches—both still in their foil wrappers—and the plastic container of something that looked like chocolate.
Then he ran for the apartment door, made sure it was locked behind him, and took the stairs all the way down.
* * *
Caleb sat on a bench beside the basketball court. One sandwich was already gone, down his hungry gullet. He peeled the foil off the second. This one was turkey and cheese, drowning in mayo.
He smiled his toothy grin at it and licked his lips. He could still taste the mustard and corned beef from the first sandwich on the edge of his mouth.
That’s when it struck him that he’d left his hoodie in Apartment 516.
~11~
Cassie woke up with a headache and blurry vision. She stumbled to her feet, holding the wall for support. She knocked a framed photo from the wall, and its glass shattered on the parquet floor. She hurried to the bathroom.
“Cassie,” Grandma said when the girl had removed the tape on her mouth. “I thought it was you at the door. That’s why I let the person in.”
“I know, Grandma,” Cassie said. “Who was he?” She hadn’t even gotten a look at him—not that she could remember. All she could see when she tried to recall his face was the hungry face of a sinister wolf.
“I don’t know,” Grandma said. She shook her head and sat up, rubbing her wrists where they’d been tied. He’d used the laces from his sneakers. They were wet and tight, and they left red welts on her skin.
“Oh, Grandma,” Cassie said. “Are you okay?”
Grandma nodded. “Aside from the rash on my wrists, that is,” she said. Cassie helped her to stand. “And it seems he took our supper, I’m afraid.”
Cassie staggered to the kitchen. “Not all of it,” she said.
Grandma put a hand on her back and picked up the old phone from the kitchen wall. “Never mind,” she said. “I’m not hungry anyway. But I’m going to call the doctor for that head of yours. Could be a concussion.”
“Oh, Grandma,” said Cassie. “I’m fine.” Her vision was back to normal. “I’ll just pop a couple of aspirin.”
She started for the bathroom, but Grandma grabbed her wrist and put her in a chair at the kitchen table.
“Nonsense,” said her grandma as she punched the buttons on her phone. “Doctor Hunter is right here in the building. He’ll be happy to come up.”
~12~
Caleb was so tired, and so full of soup and meat and . . . whatever that chocolate stuff was. It was nutty and smooth and rich. He wanted more of it.
But he couldn’t think about that now. He had to get his hoodie back—somehow.
With any luck, the girl was still passed out on the hall floor. If she was, Grandma would still be helpless too.
He ran. He wasn’t moving so fast now, though. His gut was heavy with food and his muscles ached from a long day of playing basketball, not to mention tricking Cassie and her grandma. That had taken a lot of running.
The storm was past now. The night sky was clear, and the full moon shone over Forestville. It reflected in the wet streets and the puddles at the corners.
Caleb’s shoes—now without their laces—slipped up and down his heels as he jogged through downtown Forestville. He thought about abandoning them completely. He could stay on the grass the whole way to Tall Pines.
But no. His mom would kill him if he showed up tonight without his sneakers. They hadn’t been cheap, after all, and he’d only convinced her to buy them for him after weeks of pleading. She’d probably make him quit the basketball team at school rather than buy him a new pair.
It was bad enough he’d need new laces. How would he explain that, anyway?
Idiot, he thought as he ran. All for a couple of sandwiches. What was I thinking?
But it was too late to change his mind now. He had to get that hoodie back. He was pretty sure Cassie hadn’t seen him before she’d collapsed, and her grandma—well, she wouldn’t recognize him anyway. He’d just have to make sure she never saw him again.
How hard could that be?
~13~
“That’ll be a nasty bump,” Doctor Hunter said. “Keep the ice on it for at least twenty minutes, okay?”
Cassie nodded and pressed the towel, wrapped a bag of frozen peas, against her head a little more firmly.
“Thanks for coming up,” Grandma said.
The doctor shrugged. “It’s no trouble,” he said. Then he added, more quietly, “Keep a close eye on your granddaughter, though. These head injuries can really sneak up on a person.”
“I will,” Grandma assured him. She smiled at Cassie. Cassie rolled her eyes.
“Now, then,” the doctor said, and he pulled his phone from his pocket. “Let’s see about getting a police officer down here.”
Grandma sat down and nodded gravely. “So sad,” she said. “What is this neighborhood coming to?”
“Yes, is this the police station?” the doctor said into his phone as he stepped out of the kitchen.
Grandma put a hand on Cassie’s knee. “How’s your head, sweetie?” she said.
“It hurts,” Cassie said. “A little.”
“You’d better call your mom,” Grandma said.
With a groan, she stood. Then, to Cassie’s surprise, she pulled three bowls from the cupboard.
“What are you doing?” Cassie said, looking up from her phone’s keypad.
“No sense in letting this soup go to waste,” Grandma said. “I expect Doctor Hunter will join us for a bowl, too.”
Cassie managed a smile as her mom answered the phone at home.
“Hi, Mom,” she said. She took a deep breath. “First of all, I’m fine.”
~14~
Caleb had no breath. He squatted just outside the shrubbery that lined the Tall Pines Apartments’ grounds.
Sweat ran down his face. His arms were wet. His shoes were soaking, and his feet were blistered. The night air was chilly, though, and he shivered as he caught his breath.
A police car, with it
s blue and red lights spinning and flashing, sat right on the sidewalk in front of Cassie’s grandmother’s apartment building.
“I’m too late,” he muttered. He rubbed his hands together and breathed warm air onto them. “No way I can get back in there now, not with the police here.”
He took a deep breath and scanned the area. No one was around.
“Tomorrow,” he said to himself. Then he scurried away, into the darkness. When he was around the corner, he stood up and took off running for home.
~15~
The police officer had a lot of questions for Cassie and her grandma.
What did the boy look like? They couldn’t say. It was so dark. All Cassie could remember was a grinning wolf.
Did he have a weapon? They didn’t know. Everything happened so fast. Grandma didn’t put up a fight, after all, and Cassie was knocked out by the parquet floor.
What was he wearing? Cassie shrugged. Grandma said she thought she remembered a black sweater. Maybe a sweatshirt.
The police officer had a look around the apartment. He reminded Grandma to make sure she knew who was downstairs before she buzzed anyone into the building. Finally, just as Cassie’s mom arrived to pick her up, the police officer left.
“I don’t feel great leaving you alone tonight, Mom,” Cassie’s mother said. “Come stay with us.”
“Nonsense,” Grandma said. “I’ll be fine.”
Cassie’s mom gave Grandma a long look. Finally she sighed. “I know you’re a stubborn lady,” she said, standing up from her seat at the kitchen table. “I’ll just use the restroom and Cassie and I will be out of your hair.”
Grandma put a hand over Cassie’s hand. “I’m sorry, dear,” she said quietly.
“For what?” Cassie asked.
“For letting that maniac in here,” she said. “This whole mess was my fault.”