Glazed

by Deany Ray

“I know that,” Doughnut Girl said and flipped her hair over her shoulder. “But like I said. No witnesses left behind. And I mean none. I don’t leave anything to chance in my operation. Ignoring someone who could wake up and talk? Now that would be just irresponsible.”

  Just when I thought it couldn’t get any worse, it did. I had no idea how Doughnut Girl planned to get past the police patrol in front of Perry’s room with our help, but I was sure she already had the perfect plan in place for that too.

  I looked at the van. If we stepped foot into that vehicle, then our lives would be over. I did not want to get in. A cold and tingly panic filled my chest and I looked over at Marge and Celeste. We’d gotten through some scary stuff together, stuff that could have killed us. Somehow, we had to fight our way through this mess. Again. Plus, we had Eddy on our side now and if he’d only finish eating those chips, maybe he could be of real help.

  The two geniuses stood beside the van with its doors wide open. Mustache Man nodded for us to step inside, which I very, very, very much did not want to do. They both looked like they didn’t care whether we got inside or not. In fact, they looked like they were bored with the whole awful business. Doughnut Girl, apparently, hadn’t rounded up the brightest bulbs on the front porch. That might be what would save us.

  I assessed the situation. The brainiacs lowered their guns just a little. I could tell their guard was down. They could be distracted, maybe. Suspicious Guy still had his gun out as well, but he’d have to put it down at some point. You needed two hands, after all, to set off a grenade: one to hold the thing and one to pull the pin. With his mind most likely having turned to making my place go boom, he lowered his gun to his side.

  It was time to act.

  “Go ahead and throw that thing,” Doughnut Girl said to Suspicious Guy, eyeing the grenade.

  Tears sprang to my eyes as I imagined the things that would never be: cookie-filled cabinets, nights spent on the back deck with a nice glass of merlot, a cozy chair set by the window, a place that was all my own.

  Doughnut Girl glanced down at her phone. “While you take care of the apartment, I’ll alert the cleanup crew that everything’s a go. They’ll be standing by and ready to make five bodies disappear.”

  “Um, boss?” Suspicious Guy looked up from his grenade. “Did you mean to say six bodies?”

  “No, five. No need to worry about the other kid.” She turned to us and put on a show with a look of exaggerated sorrow. “He will, unfortunately, pass away from the grave injuries he’s being treated for.” She smiled. “That’s what they’ll think, at least.”

  With that, Suspicious Guy looked down at the grenade like it was time for business. Doughnut Girl glanced down at her cell, and the brainiacs seemed to have mentally checked out from the whole messed-up scene. I wondered if they had been smart enough to park the van where we wouldn’t all get blown to pieces along with my very beautiful and beloved almost-first apartment.

  Not that there was time to ponder. There were lives to save, and one of them was mine. I looked over at my partners. This was one of the job parts that I loved. When it came down to it, we didn’t even need words. If we entered that van, chances were good we were all going to die. Might as well die trying to get out of there. They looked back at me and understood what had to happen next.

  In seconds, Eddy dropped his bag of chips (finally) and he and Marge were on top of the brainiacs. I could see that Marge’s hand was on the clasp of her flowered purse. Persuader, do your thing!

  Celeste lunged with all her might and anger at Doughnut Girl while screaming at the top of her lungs, “Lucas, ruuuuun!”

  Without even turning back, Lucas took off running through the alleys between the other houses.

  That meant Suspicious Guy was mine. No way was I letting him destroy my hope to leave the crazy house also known as ‘my current residence with my family.’ I jumped onto his back, trying very hard to avoid two things. First, I didn’t want a bullet flying through my head, and second, I had to somehow keep a hand grenade from blowing everyone to bits. It seemed to be a challenge better suited for a cartoon superhero in one of my brother’s games. Those kinds of heroes can afford to die; they come right back to life.

  Suspicious Guy had the same thought, apparently. Since he didn’t want to blow himself up, he was trying hard to steady the pin, most likely afraid that he wouldn’t have enough time to throw the grenade into the apartment if the pin came off. All the while with me on his back.

  There were scuffles all around me. “You broke my nail!” Celeste screamed, but I couldn’t spare a glance at the others; it was all that I could do to keep my guy’s hand away from the pin on the grenade.

  Then the thing hit the ground.

  I was still on Suspicious Guy’s back. We all froze, afraid to move and afraid we only had about five seconds longer to live.

  I glanced at the grenade with my heart in my throat and I noticed that the pin was still in place. A sense of relief spread through my chest – until I remembered that the situation was…well, still not a carefree day at the Springston Festival of Jams and Flowers. There was a hand grenade close by, along with some very evil people who thought of me as nothing more than a future body to be disposed of soon.

  Panic moment over, Suspicious Guy tried to shake me off so he could make a grab for the grenade. But I didn’t give in that easily. Huffing and puffing, I clung to his back like my life depended on it. And it actually did. He still had his gun in his one hand. I had a flashback of the exercise bike at Finley’s Total Fitness. I should have pedaled harder, I should have lifted weights like Celeste did. Hanging onto somebody’s back is more physically demanding than it sounds.

  Not having any better ideas and not knowing any combat moves, I did what any girl would do: I bit into his ear.

  “What the…,” Suspicious Guy screamed and his hand flew to his ear. The hand in which he held the gun. I took advantage of that moment to snatch it away and throw it behind me. If I’d tried to hold on to it, there was no doubt in my mind he could have wrestled it away. This whole thing could be an ad for going to the gym and picking up those weights.

  With a look of fury on his face, he threw me to the ground. That was one of the rare situations where I’d be grateful for bruises, if that meant I was still going to live. But this was a time for fast thinking, not worrying about bruises. In a second, I managed to get up. The grenade was on the ground between me and Suspicious Guy. We locked eyes and we knew what was coming. We both sprang toward the grenade. Luckily, I was faster. I grabbed it and ran to the safest place I could think of to get away from my assailants.

  I flew over the back steps and ran into the apartment – with Suspicious Guy close on my heels – and tried to slam the door shut behind me, but he was pushing at it, trying to get in. Melting mocha fudge cake! I pushed against the door with all my strength, but Suspicious Guy was stronger.

  He pushed the door open a little more, when I heard a shot go off outside. My heart almost stopped. I prayed that Marge and Celeste were okay. And Eddy too.

  Suspicious Guy pushed the door open all the way and I turned and tried to make a run for it through the apartment toward the front door, but he grabbed me by the shirt and pulled. I fell against him in the chaos, sending the both of us crashing hard onto the ground. When we looked up, we both saw it at the same time: the grenade that I’d been holding was now beside us on the floor – inches away from my right hand – and the pin was off.

  “Oh my God!” we both screamed at the same time.

  We scrambled to our feet and raced each other for the back door and hurried down the steps to the light of day. I looked around wildly for the others. Celeste was hovering above Doughnut Girl, a lot of blood next to them. Eddy was pushing Mustache Man into the van while Marge kept her hand locked on The Persuader.

  I was looking for brainiac number two when the whole place blew. With a loud explosion in my ears, I went flying through the air. I was sure my heart had stoppe
d. I landed hard, thrown flat on my back on the rocky ground. I tried to keep my eyes open, but my eyelids were too heavy.

  The next thing that I knew, things seemed suddenly okay – kind of peaceful even. It must have been a dream, I thought as I reached for an ice cream bar from the freezer in my brand-new kitchen. What a perfect, perfect kitchen, where my coffee cups and bobblehead James Bond were looking right at home. When had I unpacked? I walked past the bedroom, which I’d painted a light blue, and settled on the couch. That couch would be the scene of a hundred perfect naps. I straightened up some pictures – my dad planting a big kiss on my mother’s cheek, Marge and Celeste acting silly – and gazed out at the yard.

  I was savoring my ice cream, when something shook me hard. An earthquake? Not an earthquake! I’d only just moved in! What the heck was going on? I tried to stand up, but I couldn’t. It was like a great big hole was sucking me into the middle, along with my falling glasses, the framed pictures, the napping couch, and the beautiful, beautiful kitchen that was my very own. Just as I was about to fall into the hole, everything went black.

  I tried to lift my head, but just the slightest movement brought excruciating pain, as if a band of offbeat drummers was pounding in my head. Somewhere there were sirens, and without my glasses, the whole world was a blur of pavement, grass, and color. I was tired and so confused.

  Still in a lying position, I slowly turned my head to the left and I saw Celeste nearby, lying very still. Celeste seemed hurt like me. I didn’t understand. Why was Celeste at my apartment, and was Celeste okay? I managed to sit up very slowly.

  Without moving my head too much, I cast my eyes in the other direction, where Marge was sitting near a van. She had a stunned look on her face. A man lay motionless beside her. Without the help of my trusty glasses, I could just make out his face, and when I recognized that it was Eddy, my memory came back. As I remembered everything that happened, the terror that rushed through me made me want to vomit. At the same time, I knew that if I moved my head to throw up, the pain would be too much. All that I could do was try to sit very, very still.

  Suspicious Guy began to sit up next to Eddy, and I could see Doughnut Girl underneath Celeste, as if they’d been struggling with each other when the grenade went off. Celeste still wasn’t moving, and the pain of knowing that was far worse than the incessant pounding of the drummers in my head. They played with increasing fervor as the sun beat down on my face.

  Only a second later, cops were everywhere. I lifted my head – oh, the drummers – but only saw a blur of white and blue passing by. Someone kneeled beside me and lightly touched my arm.

  “Are you okay?” the voice asked.

  I think I mumbled something, but I wasn’t sure what.

  The police were there, so that meant that…Alex! Alex had to be there too! I lifted my head one inch higher and watched for him. Sure enough, I saw him elbow his way through the crowd of officers and paramedics, his eyes meeting mine.

  A rush of relief washed through me and I smiled at him.

  He ran toward me and I could see the terrified look in his eyes. “Charlie! Tell me you’re okay.” He nodded at the man beside me. “Hey, Roland, I’ve got this.”

  The man nodded back and walked away. Alex pulled me to a sitting position and gave me a rib-crushing bear hug. I didn’t even care about the drummers in my head. The feel of his strong arms, along with the worry that I’d seen in his eyes, filled my heart with comfort.

  “I was so worried, Charlie,” Alex whispered as his lips touched my ear.

  I wanted to close my eyes and melt into the hug. At the same time, I couldn’t help but wince at even the softest touch; my body hurt all over.

  “Yep,” I said. “I would not have been surprised to have ended up a dead girl.” I nestled my head against his chest, which made the drummers pound so hard that I thought a drumstick might break my head wide open.

  That’s why I couldn’t hear the words when an officer bent down next to Alex.

  Beside me, two men were lowering a stretcher. Somewhere in the background, I could hear Doughnut Girl cussing. A chill of dread moved inside me.

  “Celeste!” I shouted and pulled away from the Alex-hug. I felt tears spring to my eyes. “Is Celeste okay? Tell me she’s okay!”

  Marge and Eddy were bending over her; I still hadn’t seen her move.

  “She’s gonna be fine,” Alex whispered as he smoothed back my hair. “The explosion knocked her out, but my buddy just reported that her vital signs are good. She should wake up any minute.”

  Finally, I could breathe. Every single body part I had was vibrating with the pain. I was hurt – but I was safe. I was alive. And my best friends were alive.

  Alex kissed me lightly on the spot where one eyebrow used to be. “Let’s get you out of here,” he said.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Two days later, it still hurt to move any body part too quickly. My legs would protest loudly if I stood up too fast. There were drummers in my head still – but fewer than before. I didn’t mind the drummers, though. I was just glad to be alive. I was fine, Celeste was fine, and Marge was as giggly as ever as she dug her fork into a humongous piece of red velvet cake.

  “I always loved this cake when I used to wait on tables here, and it was usually sold out when I got off of work.” She took a big bite of icing and closed her eyes in pleasure as it melted on her tongue.

  “Dessert before your salad?” Celeste raised an eyebrow and frowned at Marge’s plate.

  Marge waved away the question. “We could have exploded – all of us – along with Charlie’s place, but we made it out alive, and that’s not the kind of thing you celebrate with salad. This day calls for cake!”

  “And burgers too,” I said. Mine had bacon, cheese, and pickles, just the way I liked it, and the fries were crisp and hot.

  Celeste had a turkey sandwich, and Marge’s lunch was waiting: meatballs with mashed potatoes covered in rich gravy. Eddy’s pot pie sat untouched while he flirted at the counter with some poor soul. We all watched the show while we enjoyed our lunch.

  “Okay, wait for it,” Celeste said, a note of resignation in her voice. “He’s about to make his move.”

  We watched as a tiny redhead smiled at something he said. He leaned in a little closer to whisper in her ear. There should be universal signs that let women warn their sisters they were talking to a cad. If you spilled your purse or sneezed three times, that could mean “Turn around and run.”

  Marge glanced over at my plate. “I’m glad to see you’ve finally ordered something that has taste. What’s up with that anyway? You tired of kale and tofu?”

  “Oh, my mom’s all done with that.” I dipped a fry into some ketchup. “She finally got it that not a single one of us was on board with her new diet plan.”

  Crazily enough, it had been a sausage biscuit wrapped in foil and hidden between the couch cushions that had made her see the light. I had no idea that my dad and Brad had hidden yummy treats all around the house so they could have some quick snacks when my mother wasn’t looking.

  While I’d been wrestling with Suspicious Guy and the hand grenade, there had been a smaller drama raging at the Cooper home. My mom had found the biscuit while she was tidying the house, and she’d stopped her cleaning right away to see what else she might find in unexpected places.

  She discovered enough yum to make a calorie calculator catch on fire and explode right on the spot. There was a chocolate-peanut butter bar hidden in a fern. A pack of cookies was nestled in one of the stinky tennis shoes underneath Brad’s bed. Inside a small wall lamp that we never used, she found a bag of chips. They were barbecue – my favorite! If I had only known. All those nights when I was starving, everything I dreamed of was right there in my house, playing hide and seek.

  Like two scolded children, my brother and my father revealed all their hiding places as my mother marched them around the house. She was more hurt than angry, and that kind of broke my heart, but there
was good food in the house again, just in time for my recovery.

  The family kitchen was once more a place of infinite delights. When I limped in from my ordeal, there was pasta Bolognese. When I came down in the morning, there was coffee in the pot. The birds chirped in celebration, and all the world was good.

  Marge pushed away her cake plate and speared a meatball with her fork. “Okay, Charlie, you go first. I want to hear everything that happened with you and the guy with the hand grenade. That was some scary stuff.”

  This was the first chance that the four of us had grabbed to really talk. We’d texted back and forth to check in with each other between naps. I’d convinced my mother that I had some kind of flu, which only served to amp up her dismay.

  “But all those dark and leafy greens should have been working in your body to fight off that kind of thing,” she cried with a look of confusion on her face.

  I’d watched some TV with my brother, but my mind had wandered. I thought mostly about Alex: the way it felt when he held me, the look of worry on his face as he saw me on the ground, the way he just couldn’t seem to get to me fast enough. Maybe I didn’t care that my job clashed with his, maybe I didn’t want to give him up, maybe we could somehow make it work. Those were a lot of ‘maybes,’ but that’s all I had right then. All I knew was that his very name made me want to melt. And that had never happened to me once in all my twenty-nine years. Pitiful, but true.

  I sat back in the booth to answer Marge’s question and describe my version of the night my apartment blew to smithereens and we brought down a band of crooks. “I think I was so angry that I forgot I should be scared of them. That guy was gonna blow up my apartment!” I stopped to take a breath. The loss was something that still stung.

  “Of course, better my apartment than my legs or arms. I’m just glad we’re all okay. How is Lucas doing?” I turned to Celeste.

  “The boy’s okay, considering the circumstances,” she told me. “He ran just like I told him, and it wasn’t too long before he found a pay phone to get hold of 911.”