Joe looked inquiringly at Mr. McShifty.
Mr. McShifty hesitated.
He felt badly about what happened to Ernest; whom he’d known from the bank. Things were getting way out of hand. Mr. McShifty had only agreed to help with the robbery to make some quick money. He didn’t count on being involved in a murder, and now kidnapping. He didn’t like the idea of leaving an old lady without her medicine. The last thing Mr. McShifty wanted was another death on his conscience.
“Did you search the bag?” he asked Joe.
“Yeah, Boss. There’s no cell phones or anything; it’s just a big bag of junk,” Joe said.
“All right then, let the old lady have her bag,” Mr. McShifty said grudgingly.
Joe shrugged, left the bag on Phyllis’ walker and shut the door to the storage room with a bang.
Chapter 17
Agnes was eagerly getting herself ready for the jewelry show. She admired her reflection in the mirror. Her new dress had cost a small fortune, and she couldn’t wait for Sal to see it. Agnes applied another coat of mascara to her eyelashes; the result made her eyes appear to be fringed with tarantula legs.
Finally, I’ll have Sal all to myself, without that that goody-two-shoes Phyllis hanging around, Agnes thought.
It irked Agnes that Sal seemed to like Phyllis.
Why does he like her and not me? Agnes thought. After all, Phyllis was so… plain.
For the second time that day, Agnes thought of Billy Commonson.
Billy had also been plain… and Agnes had loved him.
She thought about the next time she had encountered Billy, after she’d first noticed him at the movie theater all those years ago. Billy may have saved her life that day…
It was a beautiful summer afternoon, and Newton had taken Agnes and his friends out for a ride on his father’s new cabin cruiser … without permission from his father. Newton drove the boat recklessly, speeding toward smaller watercraft, only to turn away at the last second; nearly capsizing the more diminutive boats in his wake. Newton’s friends hooted with laughter as they watched the occupants of the smaller crafts struggling to keep their vessels upright. Agnes’s knuckles were white as she gripped the boat’s rail.
“Newton… please, stop!” Agnes begged, “You’re scaring me.”
“Aw, you worry too much Agnes… I’m just having some fun,” Newton said with a cavalier attitude.
He steered the cabin cruiser out of the cove toward the ocean, repeatedly gunning the motor, making the yacht jump higher and higher with each acceleration. Newton gunned it again, only this time, the motor sputtered and died. Newton tried again and again to restart the engine while the yacht drifted out of the cove with the tide. Not knowing what to do next, Newton cursed and kicked the side of the boat in frustration. He then leaned on the side of the boat with his arms crossed over his chest, a scowl on his handsome face.
It suddenly dawned on Newton and his friends that they were no longer in control of the boat. They were drifting out to sea, and since Newton had taken the boat without permission, no one knew where they were.
Agnes felt panic beginning to take hold of her.
A small motor boat, similar to the ones they were terrorizing earlier, slowly trolled past them, a young man at the tiller.
“Hey! Can you help us?” Agnes called to him.
Newton nudged Agnes and gave her a dirty look. She turned to him angrily. “Well, I don’t see YOU doing anything!” she said scornfully.
Newton opened his mouth as if to say something, but then shut it and scowled some more. Agnes turned her back on Newton and turned to the man in the dinghy, who had altered his course to pull up alongside the yacht.
“The motor died,” she shouted as she threw him a rope.
“I’ll see what I can do,” the young man answered, tying the rope to his small craft. He looked up at Agnes and as their eyes met, a flicker of recognition passed between them… it was Billy. Agnes felt a wave of relief flood through her. When Agnes saw Billy’s honest face and deep brown eyes, she somehow knew that everything was going to be alright.
“Do you have any tools?” he asked.
Agnes looked at Newton, who shrugged; still scowling.
“Never mind,” Billy said. “I’ve got some.”
Billy moved some fishing equipment to find a long metal box, which he brought with him as he climbed the ladder to the larger vessel. Newton’s friends helped him aboard.
“Hey, I remember you from school… you’re Billy, right?” one of Newton’s friends asked him.
“Yup, that’s me,” Billy answered. He also remembered Newton and his friends. They’d strutted down the halls of Specter County High School as if they owned the place, wearing their letter jackets and bullying the freshmen between classes. Billy had always managed to avoid Newton and his gang… until now.
Billy opened the access panel to the yacht’s motor. He took a flashlight from his toolbox and handed it to one of Newton’s friends, who held it steady as Billy peered inside. “Can you try starting it?” he yelled up to Newton, who uncrossed his arms and grudgingly tried starting the motor.
Agnes watched in fascination as this quiet young man, in just moments, assumed unspoken command of the yacht. Newton’s friends were eagerly handing him tools and scrambling to relay messages between Billy and Newton.
“Okay, try it again,” Billy called.
The engine cranked, sputtered, and finally roared to life. Newton’s friends cheered and clapped Billy on the back. Agnes breathed a sigh of relief.
“Well, I’d best be off,” Billy said, “I have an early shift tomorrow.”
“Where do you work?” Agnes asked him.
“I work at Specter County Hospital,” Billy answered.
“Really?” one of Newton’s friends interjected, “The cardiac wing at that hospital is named after my grandfather. What do you do there?”
“I work in the maintenance department,” Billy answered. He grabbed his toolbox and began climbing down the ladder to his dinghy. Agnes and Billy’s eyes met again before he disappeared over the side of the boat.
Newton barely waited for Billy to get a safe distance from the cabin cruiser before he gunned the engine, leaving the dingy in its wake.
“Hey guys, did you hear that? He’s a JANITOR!” Newton said mockingly. “And did you see that sorry excuse for a boat he had? He was probably fishing for his supper.”
Newton’s comments were met with silence. Newton’s friends weren’t willing to mock the quiet young man who had just rescued them.
Agnes sat on the prow of the boat, fuming.
After that incident, Agnes broke it off with Newton, and began finding excuses to spend time at the hospital. She ate lunch in the hospital’s cafeteria, pretended to read books in the lobby, and roamed the halls, all the while hoping to ‘accidently’ run into Billy Commonson.
It wasn’t long before Agnes found Billy, changing light bulbs in the hospital hallway. Much to her annoyance, she had to walk past him several times, before he finally noticed her.
“Agnes?” he asked.
“Oh, hello… Billy, right?” Agnes answered, feigning surprise.
Billy invited her to have lunch with him in the hospital cafeteria. Agnes had already had lunch at the cafeteria that day, but she didn’t think Billy needed to know that.
The two began dating, and Agnes met Billy for lunch several times a week. One fall day, Agnes packed a picnic, and she and Billy ate it outside on the hospital grounds.
After they had eaten, Billy took Agnes’ hands and gazed into her eyes.
“I could build us a little house, Agnes,” he told her earnestly. “We could raise our children in it and grow old together.” Billy brushed back a lock of Agnes’s hair that had fallen in her eyes. “And I would still love you when we’re old and grey, just as much as I do now,” he promised.
Billy’s lunch break was over. He kissed Agnes on the head before going back in
side the building. “Just promise me you’ll think about it,” he whispered into her hair.
Agnes sat for a long time outside the hospital. She’d never felt so happy before she started dating Billy. But her family and friends thought she was crazy for dumping Newton. Newton was rich and handsome and came from an important family. Most girls could only dream of landing a guy like him.
Agnes cleaned up their picnic and began walking home.
A red Lincoln convertible slowly pulled up alongside her. The top was down, showing Newton behind the wheel. He looked even more handsome than usual, with his windswept hair and sunglasses.
“Hey Agnes, do you need a ride?” Newton called out to her.
“No, thank you,” Agnes said. She lifted her chin and kept walking.
“C’mon, Agnes… Don’t you like my new convertible? It’s red, your favorite color,” he wheedled. “I chose the color just for you.”
Newton continued to follow Agnes, promising her the moon and showering her with compliments. Agnes began imagining herself riding in the shiny convertible, with the wind on her face and her scarf billowing out behind her.
I’d look like a movie star, Agnes thought, and imagined the envious looks people would give her as she rode around town in the fancy new car.
Newton pulled over to the curb, leaned over, and opened the car door. “Look Agnes, I’m sorry,” he said. “Give me a chance to make it up to you.”
Agnes hesitated, glancing back toward the hospital before finally climbing into the car.
Agnes blinked. She was still standing in front of the mirror, wearing her new dress. She shook her head to clear the memory.
I should stop daydreaming, Agnes thought, or I’ll be late for the jewelry show.
Chapter 18
The storage room where Sal, Phyllis, and Betty were imprisoned was bigger than a closet, but not by much. The only light came from a bare bulb that hung from the ceiling. Inside was a trash can, some folding chairs, and a rusty filing cabinet.
Once locked inside, Phyllis became overwhelmed. She slumped over her walker and began to cry.
Betty watched in amazement as yet another of her strange dreams became reality.
Teeny crawled out of the giant purse and began licking Phyllis’ face, whining with concern for his favorite human.
Phyllis cried out in joyful relief. “Teeny! Thank God! I thought I’d lost you! Oh, Teeny, what would I have ever done without you, my sweet boy.” Phyllis hugged the tiny dog and covered him with kisses.
Sal had wanted to tell Phyllis earlier that Teeny was OK, but he hadn’t had the chance. Sal now explained how he saw Teeny hide with the disc in his mouth, and then saw him sneak back into the bag with it after the bag had been searched.
As Sal told the story, Teeny retrieved the disc and proudly presented it to Phyllis.
“Good boy, Teeny! What a brave and clever dog you are!” Phyllis praised him. “Everything will be alright, now that you’re okay!” Teeny wagged his tail so hard that his whole body shook.
“Um… We’re still in a bit of a pickle, Phyllis.” Sal gestured around their small prison.
“What shall we do?” asked Phyllis. “No one knows we’re here. We have to get out somehow.”
Sal surveyed the small room. The walls were made of cinderblock. There was one window, but it was up high and very small. Even if they could reach it, none of them could fit through it.
“It appears our best option is the door.” Sal put his ear against the door. He could hear Sterling, Mr. McShifty and the two thugs packing up for the jewelry show, and planning their escape to Mexico. “I guess we should sit tight until they’re gone, no sense trying to escape just to be recaptured,” he said.
Sal opened a couple of the folding chairs for Phyllis and Betty. Phyllis put one arm around Betty and stroked Teeny with the other.
Sal’s stomach and arms still hurt from the beating he’d gotten from Lars. He felt feeble and old. He thought he should have been able to protect Phyllis and Betty. He wasn’t used to feeling helpless and afraid. He was a war hero, after all.
While they waited, Sal thought about his life as a soldier, and he remembered that fateful day, long ago, when he lost the use of his leg…
Sal had somehow become separated from his squadron. The air was thick with smoke, and Sal’s ears rang with the sounds of war.
Sal encountered two injured men from his regiment and dragged them behind a low sandbag wall. Sal was radioing for help when a grenade landed a few feet from where he and his comrades were sheltering. Without thinking, Sal quickly tossed his pals over the sandbag wall and dove headfirst after them.
Sal almost made it over the wall before the grenade went off… His trailing left leg took the brunt of the explosion.
Trapped in the storage room, Sal sighed and looked down at his stiff leg and frail, beaten body.
Some hero I am, Sal thought wistfully.
It had been quiet outside the storage room door for a while now. Sal waited a bit longer before trying to open the door, just to be certain that the thieves had left. The knob turned, but the door did not budge. Sal pushed against the door with all his might, straining with the effort. Then, exhausted, he leaned against the door, feeling spent.
Sal rested his bald head against the door, and rubbed the back of his neck, which was prickling again. He noticed an odd breeze coming from the space beneath the door.
Betty stared intently at the door, a hopeful look on her wizened face.
Sal looked at the bottom of the door, wondering what was causing the strange breeze. A discarded scrap of paper had wafted under the door; it seemed to wave at him from the gap beneath, as if beckoning him closer. Sal stared at it a moment, and then, bracing himself with the doorknob and his cane, he slowly and painfully lowered himself to the floor, grunting the whole way down.
Phyllis watched Sal’s painful descent. “Growing old isn’t for sissies, is it?” she remarked.
Sal chuckled from his awkward position on the floor. “That’s for sure… I just hope I’ll be able to get up again.”
Sal shifted around uncomfortably, trying to peer through the gap between the floor and the bottom of the door.
Phyllis suddenly remembered Betty’s pills. “Oh, my! It must be past time for your medication, Betty!” Phyllis exclaimed, reaching for her giant purse.
Teeny met her at the mouth of the bag, with Betty’s prescription already in his jaws. “Thanks Teeny.” Phyllis gave Teeny a pat and took the pills from him. She struggled to open the cap. Her swollen hands were too stiff to open the container.
Phyllis looked at Sal, who was still on the floor, trying to poke his cane under the door. Not wanting to interrupt him, Phyllis continued her futile attempts to open the bottle.
“Here, Phyllis… let me open that,” Betty said.
Phyllis looked up in surprise. Betty seemed to be having one of those increasingly rare moments where she seemed like her old self again. Phyllis reluctantly handed her the bottle of pills. “Okay, but you can only take two, remember?” Phyllis cautioned her.
“Yes, only two,” Betty repeated as she took the bottle of pills from Phyllis.
“Phyllis?” Sal called. “Can you give me a hand over here?”
Phyllis hurried over to Sal. “Certainly… How can I help?” She leaned over Sal, who was peering through the narrow gap under the door.
“They wedged a chair under the doorknob to lock us in. I can see the legs of the chair… I want to try to knock the chair down by pushing the legs out with something. Can you look in the trash can for something we could use?” Sal explained.
“Okay,” Phyllis said and began looking through the garbage. “Would this work?” She handed Sal a piece of cardboard.
Sal slid the cardboard under the door. It barely reached the chair legs and it bent when Sal tried to push with it. “No, we need something longer, something that won’t bend,” Sal replied.
Phyllis continued looki
ng through the garbage, but found nothing suitable. She tried opening the old filing cabinet, but it was locked.
Teeny barked from on top of Phyllis’ purse.
“What is it, Teeny?” Phyllis asked. The tiny dog dove into the giant handbag and reemerged with the folding ruler in his mouth.
“Oh, Teeny, you clever dog… that just might work!” Phyllis exclaimed as she took the ruler and began unfolding it. It made clicking sounds as it snapped straight, and she handed it down to Sal.
“Perfect! I think that’ll work just fine,” Sal commented as he took the yardstick from her. He slid it under the door again and again, but the chair wouldn’t budge. “Phyllis, it’s too awkward for me here on the floor. I can’t get the leverage to push the legs of the chair out. If I position the yardstick, can you kick it with your toe?”
“Sure. Just tell me when.” Phyllis stood near Sal and held tightly to her walker for balance.
Sal slid the yardstick under the door and positioned the end against the chair leg. “Now!” he yelled to Phyllis.
Phyllis drew back her foot and kicked the end of the yardstick.
“Good job, Phyllis! It moved!” Sal exclaimed. “Let’s do it again.”
This time, Sal carefully positioned the ruler against the other chair leg. “Now!” he cried.
Once again, Phyllis kicked the yardstick with all her might. They heard a crashing noise as the chair fell to the floor.
“We did it, Phyllis!” Sal shouted excitedly.
Phyllis clapped her hands and Teeny jumped high in the air and did a back flip, landing back in the bag like a diver into a pool.
It was hard for Sal to celebrate from his painful position on the floor. He handed Phyllis the yardstick, which she carefully folded and gave to Teeny, who stowed it back in the big bag.
“I just KNEW that ruler would come in handy one day!” Phyllis said proudly. “Can you believe that someone was going to just throw it away?”
“Yeah, you hold on to that handy little treasure, Phyllis.” Sal said from the floor. “Now, how on Earth am I going to get back up?”
Chapter 19
By using one of the folding chairs and Phyllis’ walker for support, Sal was finally able to get back on his feet. His whole body ached from the beating he had gotten earlier, and the time he spent on the floor.