Aggie leaned over the arm of her chair and grabbed her sister’s arm. When there was no response, Aggie began to pull more vigorously as she once again heard a rustling noise outside the window.
Without looking up, Gracie snorted “Listen, for the last time, I don’t care what the dashing hero did for the damsel…I don’t read those kinds of things, remember?”
As her whole body started to vibrate with the hand on her arm, she used her free hand to pull out her earplugs- one set from a handful of bight pink and yellow ones that the nice construction boy had given her. She then placed her had over the cold fingers that were still tightly gripping her forearm.
She blanched “What… you’re as white as a ghost! Has something happened? Can you speak? Is it a stroke? Agatha, do you know who I am? That’s it, no more sneaking sweets for you! I knew that this would…”
The sound of breaking glass seemed to be right outside of the window.
Leaping up from their chairs, the women turned to the window in alarm. The bright reading lights reflected off of the panes of clear glass.
Patting Aggie’s hand, Grace began scanning the room with determined eyes “You go call the police, I’ll find a weapon.”
“A weapon, what are you talking about? Are you going to try and bludgeon someone to death with that huge and, I must just say, horribly dull book of yours?”
Grace sighed. “For once, don’t dicker with me, okay? PLEASE go call the police.”
“Fine, you’re right. Now is not the time to debate the differences in our literary choices. However, I think you should just come with me.”
“Fine.”
Grasping hands, the two brightly robed women scurried out of the room and down the hall to the kitchen.
They each darted to opposite sides of the kitchen. As Aggie dialed the phone, Grace started opening drawers and rifling through their contents looking for something that she could bludgeon someone with. Seriously though, who was she kidding? Whoever was out there would probably just take one look at her trying to be tough and would pass out from the lack of oxygen because he (or she, really) was laughing too hard to be able to breathe. Not to mention the fact that she really didn’t have the stomach for things like that. She was 74 years old for heaven’s sake.
Aggie firmly hung up the phone,” Someone’s on their way. What do you think I should make for a snack?”
“The police are not going to care what kind of buffet you try to present them if they find you murdered in the butter, I mean, how silly. Although, we probably should go change into something more appropriate.” Grace absently patted her silvery chignon. “I really need to go brush my teeth, I’m sure my breath could kill someone.”
With her upper body engulfed in the freezer, Aggie chuckled “I’m pretty sure no one is going to try to kiss you tonight, or is there something you want to tell me? Do you think mini egg rolls would work? Or should I pull out some cookies instead? Maybe both…” She turned to find herself alone in the kitchen, and jumped when there was a knock at the door. She barely had time to make it into the front hall before her robed sister opened the door and greeted their “guests.”
“Richard, is that you? Where’s your backup? My, when did you grow that horrendous thing? That beard makes you look like a mountain man.”
“Don’t listen to her Ricky, you look very distinguished. Come on in. How’s Jack doing? Is he at your neighbor’s tonight? I’m so sorry to pull you out here. Would you like an egg roll?”
The big man smiled. He closed his eyes briefly and inhaled deeply. It always smelled the same in this house, like cinnamon bread and flowers. He pulled a small notepad out of the front pocket of his uniform, cleared his throat, and stepped into the house.
“Evening Auntie Gert, Aunt Aggie. What can I do for you? I happened to be patrolling in the neighborhood, Jack’s with a sitter, and no thanks to the egg roll.”
Aggie’s brow crinkled “Are you sure? Maybe some cookies and milk instead?”
Richard shook his head “Really, I’m okay, thanks.” He sighed as he thought about how he would never really be an adult around these two women.
“Well, if you’re sure.” Aggie continued, “We heard some rustling outside the window of the Lit room and then the sound of glass breaking. Well, actually I heard the rustling, but we both heard the glass; that is, after I got your auntie here to finally take out her earplugs…”
“Earplugs? Lit room? ” Richard gazed back and forth between the two women. It had been a long time since he had done more than say “hi” when dropping off Jack. He couldn’t even remember how long, or the reason it had been so long. I guess everything was just so busy all the time; with work, and the whole single parenting bit. Still, there really was no good excuse.
He had spent many an “Indian night” here, in the backyard. As a kid, there was nothing he looked forward to more than showing up on a Saturday afternoon to help set up the teepees and pull out all of the Indian gear. How cool was it to sneak around in feathers and moccasins with a bow and rubber arrows? The fact that these two nutty ladies were always ready in their cowboy getups, that included the coolest snakeskin boots and big cowboy hats, only made it even better. Never mind that they also always surrendered to the “Indians.” He had always been in awe of Auntie Gert’s skills with a lasso- where did she learn something like that anyway? He had been shocked the day she pulled out a long leather bullwhip and without batting an eyelash cracked the whip. He only heard the snap and then watched as a feather from his headdress floated slowly to the ground. Then, even more amazing, was when he was deemed old enough to learn how to crack that bullwhip himself. He still had the scar on his left ear from his first attempt. Of course, there was always plenty of hotdogs, baked beans, and as many s’mores as everyone could eat. Then he and his fellow Indians would dance and whoop around their captive cowboys..um..cowGIRLS, until they were sweaty and tired. Finally, all of the boys would cram themselves into the two teepees and tell scary stories till they all fell asleep. He had loved looking at the stars through the smoke hole in the top of the teepee. He never slept as well as he had in that teepee.
He never thought about his Father when he was there, it was his haven. He never had to explain the bruises to the two women. He seemed to spend more nights at their house than at his own. When his grand parents had shown up out of the blue to take him home with them, after he had come to an Indian night trying to hide a broken arm, he was pretty sure who it was that had taken the time to find his mom’s parents. They lived on the other side of the country and hadn’t known where their daughter had gone and were shocked to find out about his existence and her cancer. He took them to see his mom’s grave, where both grandparents sobbed quietly. His father had told him that they were dead. He never did find out what it was that had driven his mother away from her childhood home, but, then, it didn’t really matter, did it? He’d had a great childhood (from that point) on a ranch in Montana
Now that he really thought about it, these two women were the reason why he’d ended up as a happy (and stable) adult as opposed to being the mean drunk his father had turned into. He would never have found Melanie without them.
Richard tapped the notebook with his pen.
“Are the animals accounted for? Maybe it was a stray or something.”
Grace scoffed “What kind of old biddies do you take us for? A stray wouldn’t have been able to break the window in our shed, as that is the only glass in that particular area of our yard.”
Richard held up his hands in a soothing gesture. “I’m just getting the facts. Anyway, you are the LAST people on the earth that I would refer to as “old biddies”. Why don’t you relax while I go take a look around?”
Aggie gasped. “Are you crazy? You’re all by yourself! We’re coming with you!”
Richard sighed, “I’ll be fine. I’m a trained professional, remember? He gently grabbed the door and pulled it shut. They’d looked so…so…offended. As if being an “old biddie” was the worst insult they could think of. Grinning, he walked down the sunflower yellow stairs of the porch and realized how grateful he was that they still had Indian night. By all rights, they should be putting their feet up. They were way too old to be chasing after little boys, but, man, Jack loved it here.
Musing to himself he walked around the side of the house and stared at the shed. The aunts were certainly right; it had been the sound of the shed’s window breaking that they had heard. There was a gaping black hole where the glass should have been. As he got closer he saw…a shoe, stuck in the corner of the window…a wiggling shoe. He walked up to the window and shone his flashlight at the foot, which immediately froze. All of a sudden, the foot seemed to speak to him.
“D’ya think that maybe you could unstick my shoe?”
The voice was definitely not from a grown man. Richard could now make out that the person’s foot was wedged tightly between the corner of the bright blue window pane and a piece of glass that was still stuck in the sill. There was a piece of cloth over the rest of the window ledge. Probably to cover the broken glass, Richard surmised.
“Hold on a second, let me get your foot free.”
As the end of the flashlight knocked out the confining piece of glass, the foot quickly disappeared, followed by a crash and a grunt. Richard shone the flashlight in the window and watched as a small, skinny boy (maybe about 8 or 9 he guessed) tried to untangle himself from vividly painted yard tools that had fallen to the floor.
“Son, what do you think you’re doing?”
The boy looked up, his face streaked with dirt and grime.
“Are you gonna arrest me, or what? I just wanted to sleep under a roof. It’s s’posed to rain tonight.”
Chuckling to himself, Richard walked to the front of the shed and opened the door with a sharp pull.
“You could have just opened the door, you know.”
“I tried,” the boy gaped at the opening. “It was locked.”
“No, it just sticks sometimes. C’mon, let’s go for a ride, talk, and get you something to eat.”
Richard held out his hand and helped the boy stand up amidst the various rakes and shovels that were in a tangled heap.
As the big man opened the back door to his police jeep, two pairs of eyes stared out the front window.
“Is that a little boy? What could he have possibly been doing in the garden shed?” Aggie’s voice was hushed with surprise.
Grace pursed her lips, nodded at her sister and said “Let’s just go find out.”
Richard turned around as the two women were reaching the bottom of the steps, throwing a multitude of questions at him.
“Is that a little boy? Where…”
“What are you going to do with that child? Who…”
“I asked, where did you find him? Is he…”
“Pay attention, Richard, who does he belong to?”
As Richard couldn’t get a word in anyway, he turned and finished helping the boy buckle himself in the back seat of the Jeep. The child’s eyes weren’t full of alarm, as Richard had expected, they were more angry. No, that wasn’t right; they were more…suspicious…and defiant. The kid was looking at him like he was expecting Richard to offer him a ham sandwich and then laugh and pull it away. The boy didn’t look like he’d had a ham sandwich in a while, or a bath. Still, he met Richard’s eyes and never looked away.
Richard broke eye contact as the ladies ran out of steam.
“He was stuck in the shed…literally. I’m not sure who he is or where he’s from.”
Shutting the door gently, Richard lowered his voice.
“He looks like he’s been on his own for a while. I’m going to get him something to eat and let him clean up a bit at home. I’m sure we’ve got some extra clothes lying around. Then I’m going to see if I can figure out where he belongs. There’s nothing else you can do right now, so go to bed and I’ll be in touch tomorrow.”
Impulsively, Richard leaned forward and kissed each soft, wrinkled cheek.
Aggie placed a hand on her cheek “My, Ricky, you’re still quite the charmer!”
Grace’s lips quirked into a smile. “You’re a good man. We’ll wait to hear from you. Goodnight Richard. Tell Jack that we’re ready for him on Friday”
“Will do. Remind me to ask you what a Lit room is…” Richard climbed in his jeep and started for home. The aunts watched Jack every Friday, so that Richard could go help out at the senior home or homeless shelter that were in the next town over. He never once had any second thoughts about leaving Jack with the two women; he knew that they loved Jack as much as he did. If he were really honest, they were also a lot more fun.
Once the rear lights disappeared, the ladies turned to go back into their house.
Aggie sighed “I’m much too wound up to go to sleep now. That poor little boy.”
“I’m not sure I could sleep either.” Grace closed the front door. “Let’s go have some Chamomile tea and play Boggle. I’ll even front you 20 points.”
Oooo! Sucked me right in. I can't wait to see what happens next.
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