“Oh, ok… Well, good night,” the receptionist said.
Henry put his homework in his worn satchel and stood up. He walked the short distance across the parking lot to his apartment building and went inside. He felt an odd prickle on his neck as he approached his apartment door.
Henry reached inside his tattered coat pocket for his key. He was surprised when he pulled out a cookie with a large bite missing.
How did that get in there? Henry thought. He stared at the stale old cookie in his hand. He didn’t need to taste the cookie to know it would be salty.
Chapter 9
Mr. McShifty slammed his fist on the desk.
“You idiots!” he fumed. “I hired you to retrieve a simple surveillance video, and you have botched the job at every turn! First, you steal the wrong purse, and then you go and get caught…and by a gimpy old man! I should have let you rot in jail!”
Joe and Lars looked ashamed as Mr. McShifty scolded them.
“Sorry Boss. But Santa’s wife didn’t have a purse, and I didn’t expect the old man to throw his cane at me,” Joe explained. “And the old lady’s dog bit me, too,” he added feebly. He rubbed the lump on the back of his head with a bandaged hand.
Mr. McShifty paced back and forth in the Specter County Bank’s loan office where he worked. Things were not going as he and Sterling Von Gemstone had planned.
The plan was supposed to be simple: replace the jewels in the bank’s safe-deposit boxes with fakes, and then sell the real jewels at the jewelry show. By the time it was discovered that the jewels in the safe-deposit boxes were phonies, Mr. McShifty and Sterling would be long gone with the money.
When Sterling Von Gemstone first propositioned Mr. McShifty with the scheme, he had assured him that nothing could go wrong. Sterling Von Gemstone, a jeweler, could create the fake jewels, and Mr. McShifty, a banker, could provide access to the bank’s safe-deposit boxes.
“Besides,” Joe continued, “I don’t think Santa’s wife knows nuthin’ about no video anyway. We’ve been watchin’ her. She’s about as nutty as a fruitcake.” Joe circled his ear with his finger.
“Well, we wouldn’t need his wife if you hadn’t killed Santa before he told you where the video was, now would we?” snarled Mr. McShifty. He rolled his eyes and added, “And his name was Ernest. He’s not really Santa, you numbskull!”
“Well, he looked just like Santa… and we didn’t mean to kill him, Boss. That part was an accident,” Joe explained. “See, the old man was goin’ to the Police, so we caught him, and I was askin’ him about the video. But he wasn’t talkin’, so Lars tried to… um, persuade him a little … right Lars?” Joe nudged the big, beefy man behind him.
Lars nodded mutely, a toothpick between his teeth.
“Then old Santa grabs his chest and keels over… so we checked his pockets and we split. It was an accident, I told you,” Joe said with a shrug. “And what makes you so sure it was him who took the video in the first place, Boss?” Joe asked.
Mr. McShifty reached into his desk drawer and threw a bright red Santa hat onto the desk.
“This is how I know!” he yelled. “Now you two dimwits get out of here, and don’t come back until you find me that surveillance video!”
Joe and Lars scrambled over one another while exiting the office.
Hiring those two goons was a bad idea, thought Mr. McShifty.
Mr. Mcshifty stared sullenly at the bright red hat on his desk, thinking how the hat was the root of all his troubles, and remembering how he’d found it:
It was a little past closing time at the bank on Christmas Eve. Mr. McShifty anxiously waited for the rest of the employees to leave. He had forgotten that the man who played Santa often used the security room to change in and out of his costume.
Once Mr. McShifty felt sure he was alone, he let Sterling Von Gemstone into the bank through the back door, and they headed to the safe-deposit room.
Working from photos that Mr. McShifty provided, Sterling had created fake jewels that were perfect replicas of the real ones. Mr. McShifty and Sterling began unlocking the safe-deposit boxes and replacing the true jewels with the phony ones. They finished the job, and were about to leave with the loot, when Mr. McShifty suddenly remembered about the video surveillance cameras.
He went to the bank’s security room to destroy the evidence of what they’d done. The security room was filled with TV screens, each displaying a different area of the bank. Mr. McShifty found the screen that showed the safe-deposit room, and was horrified when he saw that the video disc was missing. Mr. McShifty began to panic, looking wildly around the room.
It was then that he spotted the bright red hat near the door. It was then that everything had started to go wrong.
Mr. McShifty angrily snatched the red hat from his desk, and threw it into the trash. He ran his fingers through his thinning hair, picked up the phone, and dialed Sterling Von Gemstone’s number.
“Sterling, we’ve got trouble,” Mr. McShifty said into the receiver.
Chapter 10
The next day, Lars and Joe hid in the bushes outside Betty’s house, waiting for the elderly trio to leave. They planned to break in and search for the video disc while the house was empty.
“For Pete’s sake, they’re slower than molasses in January…” Joe growled under his breath, as he watched the seniors make their way down the sidewalk.
Phyllis struggled with her walker, topped by her enormous bag. Sal limped slowly and leaned heavily on his cane. Betty wore a dazed look on her face as she veered off the sidewalk and wandered aimlessly across the lawn… right toward the bush that concealed the two thugs.
Joe and Lars ducked as the befuddled old lady approached their hiding spot. Betty paused; so close that they could see her mismatched socks and smell her lilac bath powder.
Lars slowly pulled a knife from his pocket. A beam of morning sunlight penetrated the bush and glinted on the blade. Joe put a restraining hand on Lars’ arm.
“Betty!” Phyllis called. “Where are you going? The car is this way.”
Betty turned and wandered back toward Sal’s car.
Joe sighed with relief. “That was close,” he remarked as the three seniors drove away.
Lars put his knife back in his pocket, and crawled out from behind the bush. The two men began circling Betty’s house in search of an easy way to enter. After trying every door and window, they stood in the yard.
“It’s locked up tight as a drum. We’ll have to break a window,” Joe observed.
Lars’ cruel face cracked an eager smile, showing the toothpick he held between his teeth. He rubbed his hands together, as though window breaking were a special treat.
Joe sighed and rolled his eyes. “Okay Lars… you can break it, but it’s my turn next time, got it?”
Lars nodded enthusiastically. The big man found rock and hefted it experimentally a couple of times, but before he could throw it, Joe grabbed his arm and yelled, “They’re back! Quick, hide!”
The thugs dove back behind the bush just as Sal’s car pulled up to the house.
From their hiding spot, Joe and Lars watched impatiently as the three seniors made the agonizingly slow trip back up the sidewalk. They could hear Phyllis saying, “Perhaps we can make a checklist, Betty, so we can be sure you have everything you need next time.”
“I’m surprised you don’t keep a spare bathing suit in that handy-dandy purse of yours, Phyllis,” Sal replied jokingly.
“You know, that’s not a bad idea...” Phyllis said in all seriousness as they unlocked the door.
When the old folks entered the house, Lars gave Joe a questioning look.
“It sounds like they forgot something,” Joe said with a shrug. “I guess we wait.”
After a few minutes, the elderly trio reemerged from the house.
“We should make it for the last half of class, if we hurry,” Phyllis was saying as Sal locked the door.
Once again, Lars
and Joe watched impatiently as the seniors painstakingly made their way back to Sal’s car, and drove away.
“This time, I hope they stay gone,” Joe remarked as they crawled back out from their hiding spot.
Lars nodded and smiled, before heaving the rock through Betty’s kitchen window.
Chapter 11
After water exercise class, Sal, Phyllis, and Betty heard a commotion upon leaving the Senior Center.
Henry was just outside the exit, surrounded by Agnes and her two friends. Agnes was yelling at him in a shrill voice. The boy was backed up against the wall, and appeared confused.
“Go home, you hoodlum! Get some new clothes and cut that hair while you’re at it… you look like a bum!” Agnes berated him.
Phyllis hurried to Henry’s side. “What’s going on here?” she demanded.
“I just tried to hold the door for them… I don’t know why they’re mad at me,” Henry told her.
“I’ll tell you why! You’re always hanging around out here… with your long hair and shabby clothes!” Agnes shook her finger in Henry’s face; her blood-red, pointy fingernail just inches from his nose. “It’s loitering, I tell you! I should call the cops!”
As usual, Agnes’ two friends, Mildred and Priscilla, stood behind her, nodding in agreement.
“But I was only trying to help…” Henry started.
“Well, your help is not appreciated!” Agnes cut in, “You’re not welcome here!”
“That’s not true… I appreciate him.” Sal said, stepping forward. “And I don’t want him to leave.”
“And neither do I,” cried Mrs. Michaud, lifting her cane.
A murmur of agreement went through the crowd of seniors who had gathered around the scene.
“Oh, there you are, Sal.” Agnes’ shrill voice suddenly became a purr. “We didn’t know the boy was with you… in that case, of course he can stay.”
Agnes retracted her finger from Henry’s face and patted his cheek. Agnes then pointed at her two friends. “I tried to tell them that the boy was harmless, but they just wouldn’t listen to me. I hope that someday they can learn to stop judging others so harshly.” Agnes said with a shrug.
Mildred and Priscilla looked at each other, stunned by Agnes’s betrayal.
After condemning her friends for what she herself had done, Agnes turned to Sal. “I’m wearing a new dress to the jewelry show tonight. I can’t wait for you to see it,” she told him.
Sal sighed and said, “Yeah, about tonight, Agnes… I’ve been thinking, and…“
“What a coincidence! I can’t stop thinking about tonight either!” Agnes interrupted. “See you there!”
Agnes turned and walked toward the parking lot, leaving Sal staring after her with his mouth open. He felt a strange prickle on the back of his neck.
Betty’s eyes narrowed as she watched Agnes and her friends walk away.
A faint whistling could be heard on the wind. Just then, a flock of birds burst from the trees and flew over Agnes and her friends, who ducked and screamed as a barrage of bird droppings rained down upon them.
Sal noticed that Betty now wore a satisfied smirk, as the three snobby old women wailed in disgust.
“You mustn’t listen to what Agnes says, Henry,” Phyllis said kindly. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”
“Don’t worry. I’m used to it… the kids at school pick on me about my clothes, too,” Henry told Phyllis.
“Well, if it helps, I know how you feel,” Phyllis said. “Just yesterday, Agnes told me how ugly my shirt was. She’s a mean old bully, if you ask me.”
“Wow,” Henry said. “I guess there are old bullies as well as young ones. I always thought people grew out of being bullies, you know… as they got older.”
“Well,” Phyllis replied, “I’m sure that some bullies do grow out of it… but unfortunately, there are others who actually grow into being bullies.” Her voice was tinged with pity, and she glanced at Agnes, who was frantically wiping bird poop from her hair.
Henry felt he could confide in Phyllis, and he found himself sharing the reason behind the shabby state of his clothing.
Phyllis learned that Henry’s mother was a single parent who struggled to pay the bills, in spite of working two jobs. Henry’s paper route money was often used to buy groceries. They simply couldn’t afford new clothes, and since Henry’s thrift store clothing was far from fashionable, it made him an easy target for bullies.
Phyllis had been a single parent herself, so she knew how hard it could be. She gave Henry an impulsive little hug. He did not pull away.
“Thanks for the newspaper, by the way,” she said.
“You’re welcome. And thank you for… you know, listening.” Henry gave Phyllis a shy smile. “You really made me feel better.” He paused. “Ernest used to do that, too,” he added quietly.
“You really miss Ernest,” Phyllis said.
“Yeah,” Henry replied.
It was time to leave for the lawyer’s office, so Sal, Phyllis, and Betty said goodbye to Henry, and headed to Sal’s car.
“I can’t believe she did it to me again!” Sal said to Phyllis as he drove. “How am I supposed to break my date with Agnes, when she never gives me a chance to talk?”
*****
After leaving the senior center, Henry picked up his bundle of newspapers and started his delivery route.
Henry didn’t notice that Danny and his friends were following him.
Chapter 12
Agnes stomped into her lavish home, mindless of the bird droppings that fell from her clothes onto the expensive marble floors. As she wiped her face she wondered why the birds had behaved so strangely.
It was as if the birds were out to get us, Agnes thought angrily.
Noticing the trail of bird droppings on the marble entranceway, Agnes rang the bell for the maid, before remembering how the maid had quit the day before.
After finding a wrinkle in the skirt she had planned to wear, Agnes had flown into a fit of rage, throwing the skirt and screaming insults at the maid, who had left the house in tears.
You just can’t find good help these days, Agnes thought as she went into one of the bathrooms to change. Agnes’s house boasted nine bathrooms-- ten, if you count the one in the pool house.
She had inherited this house, along with the rest of the estate, from her latest late husband, Winston O’Snooty; much to the dismay of his children, who were hoping for an inheritance as well.
Agnes didn’t know what attracted her to Sal. He wasn’t at all like the men she’d pursued in the past. He wasn’t rich or famous, he didn’t have big house or drive a fancy car. He wasn’t boastful or showy; why did she even notice him at all?
Agnes suddenly realized that Sal, with his quiet trustworthiness, reminded her of Billy. She’d almost married Billy, a long time ago. Agnes found herself remembering the first time she’d noticed Billy…
Agnes had been Specter County High School’s homecoming queen. Pretty and popular, Agnes could have had her pick of any boy in Specter County… which is why everyone was so surprised when she began dating Billy Commonson; a maintenance worker at Specter County Hospital.
Agnes hadn’t paid much attention to Billy while they were in school. Agnes preferred to date boys like Newton Imrich, who came from a wealthy family and drove a sports car. It was after graduation when Agnes finally noticed Billy.
She was with Newton at the movie theater, watching ‘Singin’ in the Rain’. Newton kept trying to kiss her, but Agnes wanted to watch the movie, and kept pushing him away.
“C’mon Agnes…” Newton coaxed, and tried to kiss her again.
“Newton, stop! I want to watch the show,” Agnes said as the audience shushed them.
Newton rolled his eyes and leaned back in his chair. He crossed his arms over his chest and pouted like a spoiled child. Just then, the picture on the movie screen went haywire, before becoming a blank white screen. The audience began stamping their
feet, trying to get the attention of the projector booth attendant.
“C’mon, Agnes; let’s go,” Newton said, standing up.
“Oh, can’t we wait to see if they can fix it?” Agnes asked.
On the screen, the movie attendant’s shadow appeared and darted about as he tried to fix the problem. Agnes saw a young man rise from his seat and run up the aisle to the projector booth. Suddenly there were two shadows on the movie screen. The new shadow flitted around for a few moments, then Gene Kelley once again appeared on the screen, and the movie resumed. The audience cheered as the young man emerged from the booth.
“Oh, that’s just great!” Newton said sarcastically and flopped back down in his seat.
Agnes smiled at the young man as he took his seat a few rows behind them. The boy gave her a little wink as he sat down. He had an honest face and deep brown eyes.
“Didn’t we go to high school with him?” Agnes asked Newton.
Newton shrugged and pouted some more.
Billy… Agnes suddenly remembered, that was his name; Billy Commonson.
Chapter 13
Betty’s lawyer worked in a large, downtown building. Sal pressed the elevator button with his cane and while they waited, other people came and stood with them; most wore business suits and carried briefcases. When the elevator doors opened, several people rudely pushed past the three seniors to get inside first.
A teenage boy with a skateboard under his arm paused to hold the door. While Sal limped into the elevator and Phyllis struggled with her walker, the people who had pushed past them rolled their eyes, groaned, and looked at their watches.
When the doors opened again, the teen with the skateboard shook his head in disbelief as the same rude people cut in front of the three old timers to exit the lift.
“Dude…those people were like, harsh, man…” The teen commented in a slow voice, as he again held the door for the elderly trio.
Phyllis paused outside the elevator. “Yes, some people can be very rude,” Phyllis agreed, shaking her head sadly. “But other people are helpful… like you.” Phyllis gave the teen one of her eye-crinkling smiles.
“Whoa, dudes…” the teen said suddenly. “I like, think you’re about to lose your other little old lady.” The teen was pointing at Betty, who was wandering down the hallway in the wrong direction.