but the front door
is
open a crack.
Holly shuts and locks it, but that’s not really making me feel any safer. “What if he’s upstairs?” I whisper.
She looks at me all bug-eyed—like she hadn’t even considered the possibility. And before I can say, “You want me to call Officer Borsch?” she’s racing up the steps.
“Wait!” I whisper, but she’s already halfway up. So I chase after her and once we’re inside the apartment, she hoists her broom again and I do the same with the plunger, ready to knock the, you know,
intestinal stuffing
out of someone.
And then all of a sudden we hear footsteps coming down the hallway.
Holly yanks me around the corner into the kitchen, and we hold our breath and shake in our shoes as we watch a shadow creep forward across the floor.
It’s a big person’s shadow.
And there’s something in their hand.
Something long.
Raised high.
And my heart practically explodes when I realize what it is.
I mouth, “That’s a shovel!”
Now, there’s no way I want to take on Shovel Man with a toilet plunger—even with a broom backing me up. So wecower back into the kitchen and I know Holly’s thinking what I’m thinking: What if he’s already killed Meg and Vera?
And just as I’m looking over my shoulder for a
real
weapon, like a butcher knife or something, Shovel Man pounces.
“AAAAAH!” Holly and I cry.
Only it’s not Shovel Man.
It’s Meg in a puffy bathrobe holding a vacuum cleaner attachment.
“What are you girls
doing?
” she gasps, holding her heart.
“Uh, we heard a noise?” I tell her.
“So did I!” She looks at Holly. “I thought you said you were going to bed. I thought you were sound asleep!”
“I was planning to but—”
She looks at me, so I tell Meg, “I got scared going home and … and I was hoping I could spend the night?”
Meg blinks at us both for a minute, still holding her heart. Finally she says, “Is that all right with your grandmother?”
“Can I call her?”
“You haven’t?” She points to the phone in the living room. “Go! Call! Now!”
So while I call Grams and get permission and another mini-lecture about making her worry, Holly brings me a towel, a blanket, and a change of clothes, and Meg goes back to bed.
And while Holly’s taking a shower first, I peek through the curtains, down to the traffic on Broadway, wonderingif the Vampire and Shovel Man are out there in the Deli-Mustard Car looking for us.
And if they are,
why
they are.
It felt like we were in real trouble.
Way more than we knew.
It felt great to take a shower and get into some clean pajamas, but I still didn’t sleep very well. It wasn’t the couch—I’m used to couches. It was because for some reason I kept looking out the window. Kept checking Broadway for the Vampire and Shovel Man and the Deli-Mustard Car.
Which was stupid. I mean, it’s not like we’d dented a Mercedes, or
stolen
something.
But still, I kept looking out the window.
Meg and Vera may go to bed early, but they’re also always
up
early. Holly says they like to squeeze in a little life before the poodles and schnauzers start showing up for grooming, and I can’t blame them. They work really hard, including on Saturdays, and are always busy, sometimes clear to eight at night.
But when you’ve been up half the night looking for vampires and shovel men and deli-mustard cars, 5:45 is a little early in the morning to rise and shine for biscuits and gravy. And since the family room runs right into the kitchen, there was really no avoiding the noise or the light or the smell.
“Just go sleep on the floor in Holly’s room,” Meg toldme when she saw me hide my head under a pillow. “You’ve got young bones, you’ll be fine.”
So I dragged myself into Holly’s room and crashed on the rug. And I did close my eyes and try, but I couldn’t get back to sleep. Maybe it was what Meg had said about my bones, or maybe it was just leftover images from Halloween, but I
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