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BELDEN 43
When the fluorescent lights flickered, I joined Miss Laura at the door. She shut out the lights and removed
the keys from her purse.
“Did you ride your bike, Carl?” she asked.
“No, I walked.”
In the vestibule, she locked the inner door. I hoped that, at least for a moment, her presence would stop
Richie from pouncing on me when we left the building. But when we pushed through the outer door, my
brother was nowhere to be seen.
“It’s getting dark,” Miss Laura said.
The sky had turned a dark blue, and the clouds glowed pink with the light of the set sun. I hoped my
parents were too engrossed in the TV to notice that the streetlights had turned on.
“Will you get home okay?” Miss Laura asked.
I wanted her to offer me a ride, but I couldn’t bring myself to ask. “Oh, sure,” I said. “It’s only a few blocks.”
“Well, all right then,” she said, smiling. “G’night, Carl.”
I watched her walk to her car at the far end of the otherwise empty parking lot. As she pulled away, I
expected Richie to leap out from around the corner of the building, but nothing happened. I crossed 25 th
Street and headed up Logan Avenue, shivering from both the chilly night air and the dread of the
inevitable attack. TV light flickered in living rooms, bats darted overhead. Every time I passed a tree I
clenched myself in anticipation. I turned up 21 st Street and, at our house, walked cautiously up the
driveway to the side door. I saw no one.
Inside, I heard the TV from the far end of the house. I walked slowly through the dining room, the front
entryway, the living room, still waiting to be pounced upon. In the den I found my parents and brother
watching Flip Wilson dressed as Geraldine. My father laughed loudly, an infectious laugh that almost
made me smile.
ISSUE 4 | SUMMER 2021