Start of a transcript of The Incredibly Mild Misadventures of Tom Trundle An Adolescent Reminiscence by B F Lindsay Release 1 / Serial number 200930 / Inform 7 build 6M62 (I6/v6.33 lib 6/12N) Identification number: //67982986-3A42-4E20-975E-167E795D7DCB// Interpreter version 2.1.7 / VM 3.1.2 / Library serial number 080126 Standard Rules version 3/120430 by Graham Nelson Epistemology version 9 by Eric Eve Conversation Framework version 12 by Eric Eve Conversation Responses version 7 by Eric Eve >about > Introduction to The Incredibly Mild Misadventures of Tom Trundle Instructions for Play Credits Contacting the author Hints Tom Trundle was about to begin his Spring Break, waiting for the bell in study hall, Friday afternoon. He had no idea how his evening was going to go, but he was about to get a clue. Help him tell his story. Caution: This story is told in the past tense, through the eyes of a seventeen-year-old young man. Profanity and suggestion of sexual situations. Please press SPACE to continue. > Introduction to The Incredibly Mild Misadventures of Tom Trundle Instructions for Play Credits Contacting the author Hints > Introduction to The Incredibly Mild Misadventures of Tom Trundle Instructions for Play Credits Contacting the author Hints Sixth Period Study Hall (in a desk) I was sitting amongst other victims of my state's education policies. They were making various noises made by students pretending to be quiet. Students' desks were arranged in a rectangular pattern backed by the north wall, facing south towards the front, and Mr Fendwhistle's desk. On the wall above the desk was the school clock. To the west, past the snack machines, was the exit to the schoolyard and the parking lot; east was the doorway into Middle Hall. On the desktop in front of me was my ripped notebook. Mr Fendwhistle was sitting at the desk up front, looking intently at a stack of papers. >x desks Like mine, they were in various states of (dis)repair. And they were all occupied. >x north wall I saw nothing unexpected in that direction. I heard someone behind me turn a page in a book. >x fendwhistle He was dressed professionally, but very tightly. With a seemingly permanent scowl on his face, he looked to be grading the papers in front of him on the desk. >x papers Probably the work of his poor hapless students. The time to go home was approaching, very slowly. >x desk (the scarred desk) This was just the desk I plopped down in when I came in. Not particularly comfortable--none of them were--a desktop in front of me, hole in the seat part for storage. The scars on the desktop gave it personality. >x scars It said-- I LUV :-0 And it wasn't no face. >x scars It said-- I LUV :-0 And it wasn't no face. >x clock The minute hand was lingering very close to freedom time. >x machines I couldn't see any such thing. >x snack I couldn't see any such thing. >x notebook This was my one notebook that I carry with me to study hall. It laid open to yet another page of my bored doodles and triangles. I told myself that I use it to "free-write", but I would only end up doodling. I carried it for this very purpose. It didn't even have a cover. >x doodles I couldn't see any such thing. >x triangles I couldn't see any such thing. >read notebook There was little of interest to read in my notebook. I heard someone behind me turn a page in a book. >turn (the scarred desk) I had no interest in rearranging desks. I heard muffled giggling from girls somewhere in the back. Suddenly the bell went DDRRRRINNGGGG for ten long seconds. Every one of my peers jumped up and crowded the west exit to the parking lot. They were all soon gone, like lemmings over a cliff. Mr Fendwhistle got up and started packing his briefcase. >talk to fendwhistle He knew I was there. I had no need to draw further attention from him. >e I had no business in Middle Hall, or the faculty area beyond. Though likely there were no exam answer keys anywhere in that area this time of the week, my presence there would still be suspicious. I heard another bus outside switch gears as it left the campus. >n (first getting off the scarred desk) I lazily stood up. I couldn't go that way. I heard another bus outside switch gears as it left the campus. >w Concession Area This was the crappy concession area near the west door to the parking lot. Crappy because it had only one snack machine and one soda machine, and by that time of day they were usually nearly empty. To the west were the double-doors, opened out to the parking lot, and I could return to the study hall area to the east. I heard another bus outside switch gears as it left the campus. >x machine Which do you mean, the crappy snack machine or the poplicious soda machine? >snack Brown and pretty beat-up. Vance snacks. Chips, crackers and what-not. Of course it has a coin slot and a change slot. It was one of those cheap snack machines--25 cents per snack--where all the snacks were packed onto these springs that, when you push one of the buttons, that spring will twist a little and your snack will--hopefully--fall into the bottom, and you reach under the metal flap and get the snack. Too often your snack gets caught on the spring and sticks there, so then you have to put in another quarter, which really sucks if it's the last snack of its kind. Another quarter, that is, if there is someone looking. It looked like if I wanted a snack, I was in luck--there was a single pack of Vance peanut butter crackers on one of the springs. It was the only snack left. I heard another bus outside switch gears as it left the campus. >i I was carrying: my usual threads (being worn) my green pencil In my pocket, I was carrying my keyring. I heard Mr Fendwhistle clap his briefcase shut. He walked towards the door, saying, "That crap's no good for you anyway." He then muttered something about being glad not to have to drive a bus today, and disappeared through the door. >e Empty Study Hall I was loafing amongst a group of empty desks, the bell having let out school for the day. Students' desks were arranged in a rectangular pattern backed by the north wall, facing south towards the front, and Mr Fendwhistle's desk. On the wall above the desk was the school clock. To the west, past the snack machines, was the exit to the schoolyard and the parking lot; east was the doorway into Middle Hall. On my desk was my ripped notebook. >take notebook Got it. I heard another bus outside switch gears as it left the campus. >take all There were none at all available! >search desk (the scarred desk) The storage hole was empty. >take clock That was way above my head, nothing doing. >search desks I was barely interested in my own. I heard another bus outside switch gears as it left the campus. >w Concession Area This was the crappy concession area near the west door to the parking lot. Crappy because it had only one snack machine and one soda machine, and by that time of day they were usually nearly empty. To the west were the double-doors, opened out to the parking lot, and I could return to the study hall area to the east. >kick snack (the crappy snack machine) I gave the snack machine a good pounding, but this did no good. >x soda (the poplicious soda machine) This piece of miracle junk served only one kind of soda--Poplicious, 25 cents--so the one convenience about this machine you could count on is that it would dispense right after you put your 25 cents in--if it dispenses at all. I had heard stories about this piece of crap. How it won't take your quarter sometimes. Or how it takes the quarter, but won't dispense. Or how it drops a can when you hit it just right--whether you put a quarter in it or not. But I'd never been able to figure it out, so I've stayed away from it for two years. Like the other machine, it had a coin slot and a change slot. >x slot Which do you mean, the snack coin slot, the snack change slot, the soda coin slot or the soda change slot? >snack change Nothing in there. Damn. >x slot Which do you mean, the snack coin slot, the snack change slot, the soda coin slot or the soda change slot? >soda change It's dark in there. >open soda change It wasn't something I could open. >search soda change I stuck a finger in there and out came a quarter! I heard another bus outside switch gears as it left the campus. >put quarter in snack coin slot I heard the quarter go in, and then, as the only real convenience of that machine, it began to eject the pack of crackers, the only remaining snack in the display, the spring holding it beginning to turn. But then, just as the pack toppled, and I thought the pack was going to fall into the receptacle, the spring stopped, and the pack was left just hanging there by a tiny corner of its wrapper. I frickin' stomped and anguished in my disgust! >attack snack (the crappy snack machine) I gave the snack machine a good pounding, but this did no good. >attack snack (the crappy snack machine) I gave the snack machine a good pounding, but this did no good. I heard another bus outside switch gears as it left the campus. >shake it After a good lookaround, I planted both hands on either side of the machine, and gave it the old back-and-forth, side-to-side. I watched the pack swing every which way--then loose! I heard it hit the window down below and then land smack in the receptacle at bottom. That's exactly what I did! I bullied a snack machine into giving me my crackers. You earned 5 points for helping me remember! >take pack I reached in and took the crackers. Yesss! >i I was carrying: a pack of Vance peanut butter crackers my ripped notebook my usual threads (being worn) my green pencil In my pocket, I was carrying my keyring. I heard another bus outside switch gears as it left the campus. >x pack It looked pretty tasty at the moment, especially compared to that crusty cafeteria pizza I ate. I wasn't hungry at the moment, but I thought it might be a good snack for later. >open it I wasn't hungry, yet. Besides, I definitely wasn't hungry at that time. >l Concession Area This was the crappy concession area near the west door to the parking lot. Crappy because it had only one snack machine and one soda machine, and by that time of day they were usually nearly empty. To the west were the double-doors, opened out to the parking lot, and I could return to the study hall area to the east. >w Study Hall Entrance Concrete porch in front of my study hall, with brown double doors leading in to the east. Some graffiti, barely noticeable, adorned the edge of one of the doors on this side. The schoolyard extended outward before me, with the main parking to the west, along with the field house; the north part of the building--with all the lockers--across the courtyard to the north. Across the parking lot to the southwest, was the gym and football field. To the northeast, across the courtyard, was the cafeteria. To the south and southeast was the south courtyard. To the northwest--freedom. A gate in the tall fence there opened to the street. I saw yet another bus go into high gear as it left through the gate. >x graffiti In pencil, the message read-- SANDY WALLS CAN KISS MY ASS I understood completely. I saw a few of my classmates leave through the gate on foot. >ne That was the cafeteria. I already had my daily ordeal there. I saw yet another bus go into high gear as it left through the gate. >n I would not normally enter this building at this time, however I suddenly felt some obligation to go to my locker. I crossed the courtyard and entered the building. North Hall, west end The north and south sides of this long hall were lined with many sets of student lockers, alternating with doorways into classrooms, and continued to the east, up to the cafeteria. I was lucky--I picked a locker near the door--locker #9. The only reason why I would voluntarily come into this part of the building. To the south were the glass doors leading outside; they were chocked open. >open locker (the locker #9) It seemed to be locked. I heard another bus outside switch gears as it left the campus. >unlock locker (the locker #9) My keys klinked as I snatched them up. I selected the locker key from my keyring. I opened my locker slowly, strangely apprehensive about what I might--or might not--find. Perhaps I was worried about my academic future, worried that someone might have taken my books...? Instead, as I opened the locker door, something like a huge paper football, very thick but neatly folded, fell out, hit my knee before I could catch it, and plopped to the floor. As I bent over to pick it up, I saw that it was addressed to me--Tom--in blue ballpoint ink on the outside--with the message "(Please open outside of school grounds, and guard this with your life!)". Someone must have shoved the thing through the vent, with incredible force, to get it in there...?? Then it dawned on me that this must have come from Will--I recognized that writing easily. I unlocked my locker with the key. That's exactly what I did! I went to my locker unexpectedly. You earned 10 points for helping me remember! >take all There were none at all available! >i I was carrying: a strange note my keyring my locker key my house key a pack of Vance peanut butter crackers my ripped notebook my usual threads (being worn) my green pencil My pocket was empty. >x locker (the locker #9) Just your regular 18 inch tall, one foot deep locker with one of those cheap built-in locks, with the bottom about chest-height. It has some slots on the front, I guess for air circulation. It was hanging open--inside was my stack of books and notebooks, lying askew. >search it I didn't find anything else in my locker, though I do often get hate mail stuffed in through the vent. >close it I closed the locker and it locked automatically. >e The school was about to lock down at any moment, and I was not interested in going anywhere else in that building. I heard another bus outside switch gears as it left the campus. >s I went through the open door and crossed back to the porch in front of study hall. Study Hall Entrance Concrete porch in front of my study hall, with brown double doors leading in to the east. Some graffiti, barely noticeable, adorned the edge of one of the doors on this side. The schoolyard extended outward before me, with the main parking to the west, along with the field house; the north part of the building--with all the lockers--across the courtyard to the north. Across the parking lot to the southwest, was the gym and football field. To the northeast, across the courtyard, was the cafeteria. To the south and southeast was the south courtyard. To the northwest--freedom. A gate in the tall fence there opened to the street. Some students in cars sped from the parking lot, eager to start Spring Break. >se Rambling around the school grounds after the bell was not my cup of tea. I saw yet another bus go into high gear as it left through the gate. >s Rambling around the school grounds after the bell was not my cup of tea. Some students in cars sped from the parking lot, eager to start Spring Break. >sw That was the way to the busses. I much prefer to walk home, rather than be cloistered up with the snotty students I'd have to fuckin' ride with. So no. I saw yet another bus go into high gear as it left through the gate. >nw As I left the campus, the last of the busses charged through the gate, and a custodian walked the gate closed and clicked the lock shut. "Happy Spring Break!", he said, sarcastically. No telling what they would be having him do over Spring Break. Probably one of Mr Holbrook's--our principal--cleaning overhauls. No vacation for him. As I watched the back of the bus pull away, I noticed someone had skillfully sharpied a picture of a horse humping a young sheep onto it. That was some good art. Russel Street This tree-lined street went east-west---east to my bungalo, west to nowhere. Take your pick. South was the way back to hell. Fortunately it was barred by the school's main gate. >read note But I would have to open it, first! >open it Though this note was so freakin' tightly folded and in a rather complicated fashion, I managed to make headway with it--and as I got it open, another note popped out! Once I retrieved the other note from the ground, I read what Will wrote. Will wrote, in his urgent script-- Tom-- I really really need this favor from you. It's very important to me. Can you please please deliver this note to Elizabeth Logan--DON'T OPEN IT!--I'll tell you about it later! Can you take it to her today, after school?? It really must be this evening! Please?? Sorry this is so urgent, but it's really important to me! Call me when you get it to her, okay?? I will be so grateful! Thank you so much! Will So--it's Liz Logan?? Hmmm. I won't judge, but I thought he could probably do better. MAYbe. It just seemed to me that she was very straight-laced, more the "dutiful", altruistic kind of girl, straight As, bent on getting a career, and more 'for' the older kind of guy. Or maybe, the buttoned-up blouses and prim, proper look is just a front?? Maybe she's not really the 'good girl' that Will seems to think she is?? I just get the feeling that she likes guys who are about ten years older, and she wouldn't suffer guys our age. And that Will's on yet another collision course with his own heart. I am sure of this because no doubt he has been building up to this all month, and expecting sloppy kisses and hugs and his and her silhouettes watching sunsets together, nothing less. And I'm afraid that this is not her thing and not how it's going to happen. Well, the task seemed simple enough. I thought I'd just take it to Liz's--walk over to her house--it was near my place on Russel Street, just a couple blocks north on Virgil. If she questions me, I'd just shrug my shoulders and say I was just delivering it for him. No commitment necessary. Then I could just go back home, call Will, then strum my guitar or what-not. Not necessarily in that order. Simple. >l Russel Street This tree-lined street went east-west---east to my bungalo, west to nowhere. Take your pick. South was the way back to hell. Fortunately it was barred by the school's main gate. >save Ok. >w East was the way home. >e I walked east along the fence, past the rancid-smelling cafeteria back area, and then the trees, until they ended at a field, where the only feature was a ditch to either side of the road... I stopped when I saw something lying in the ditch on my side... Broad Field Here, the road went through a field of grass, leading east to the residential area which contained my parents' house and my bungalo. West, it led back to the school. To either side of the road was a large ditch. Lying in the ditch was what looked like someone's green backpack. I wondered whether I should pick it up. A sports car sped by me, stereo blaring, bound for out of town. >take backpack With a strong sense of social responsibility, I went down into the ditch and took up the backpack. I looked inside it, to see if there was some indication of who owned it. A tag inside said, "if found, please call 555-5250 (ask for Jackie)." It felt empty, but then I was determined to return it to its owner. When I was good and ready. Got it. That's exactly what I did! I picked up a stranger's backpack....with the intent of returning it later. You earned 10 points for helping me remember! >open it I opened the green backpack. >search it The green backpack was empty. >shake it I gave the green backpack a thorough shake, but nothing happened. The wind picked up, tossing around my nappy hair. >close it I closed the green backpack. >e I continued walking several blocks, past the houses of my neighbors. In front of some of them, cars were loading up, people were getting packed up to leave early for Spring Break Vacation. Before long, this area would be deserted. Peace and quiet. Yesss. Finally, I got to my parents' house. My Front Yard Russel Street, from the west, ended just east of here, running into Virgil Road, which runs north-south. The front of my parents' house sported a number of awesome old trees, a large front deck, and an empty gravel driveway. Apparently, Mom and Dad took off early, and took both vehicles. My mom's flower beds occupied the space to either side of the deck. The steps up the deck were to the south; southwest was the trail around the house to my shack out back. Our rickety mailbox stood at the end of the driveway. >open mailbox I opened our mailbox, and found nothing. Mom and Dad must have taken the mail with them. >close it Albeit beat-up to the point of being hard to close, believe me, it was closed. >e Corner At Virgil This was the gravelly, kind of country road going north-south, intersecting my street, near my parents' house to the west. The entire east side of this road was pure forest. The west side going north was occupied by other middle-class homes like my family's. Well, probably a little 'above' our class. Liz's house is a little further north. I heard the racket of people taking off on vacation, down the street. So long, suckers! >x forest I couldn't see any such thing. >n I proceded solemnly on my appointed route to Liz's place, passing a few houses on my left. At long last, I arrived. I hesitated a bit, feeling heavy with obligation. Virgil Road, at Liz's House This was in front of Liz's house, which was to the west. A driveway headed up from the road, along a well-appointed yard to a car port beside the house. A white mailbox stood beside this end of the driveway. To the north was the more affluent section of Virgil Road; south the road led back to my house. As I looked, I realized something--the carport was empty--is Liz even home?? >open mailbox That's a federal offense! I was too young to go to jail. Some insect flew by my head, then flew off. >w I walked up the driveway along the well-planted flowerbed, intent on delivering the note. I stepped onto the white concrete porch, up to the front door. Liz's Front Porch The white concrete front porch of the Logan house was well-decorated, with the roof over the porch held up by four white columns. There were at least four windows, each one with thick lace curtains. The door in front of me was painted a bright red, and had a spiffy brass knocker. The porch ran north to the car port, and south into a side-yard. The driveway led east back to the road. Everything here seemed too 'clean' to me. I never really trusted these kind of people. A vehicle sped by on Virgil Road, kicking up dust and gravel. >use knocker Not wanting to be too impolite, I gave the door a couple of gentle raps. If it was only Liz at home, I didn't want to piss her off with the loud knocker. I waited about 20 seconds. No answer. >use knocker Again nixing the knocker, I rapped the door even harder. I just hoped that she was home so I could get this crap over with. No answer. >use knocker Hell with it. This time I did use the knocker. I gave it five loud raps. I was going to do this thing for my friend, then get the rest of my time to myself. I waited another 20 seconds. Still no answer. What could she be doing??? Or maybe she's gone?? If so, she sure didn't waste time. Well I wasn't going to embarass Will by leaving the note at her door--for her parents--or anyone--to see--he embarasses himself enough as it is--so I vowed to figure out SOME way to deliver this note. >x roof I couldn't see any such thing. >x columns Well, they looked real. The silence was broken briefly by birds chirping in the trees above me. >x windows They were quite large, and filled with thick white lace curtains, which were drawn. >n Though I know that there is probably another door in the carport, I'm not going to just walk in or keep knocking. Liz might think I'm some freakin' stalker--which would be more up Will's alley. I heard the racket of people taking off on vacation, down the street. So long, suckers! >s Going around the side of the house, to look in a window, was not my style. But if I was convinced that it would lead to getting this damn note delivered, I'd be game. The silence was broken briefly by birds chirping in the trees above me. >s Going around the side of the house, to look in a window, was not my style. But if I was convinced that it would lead to getting this damn note delivered, I'd be game. Some insect flew by my head, then flew off. >w (first opening the red front door) Well I wasn't going to just walk right in. A vehicle sped by on Virgil Road, kicking up dust and gravel. >open door Well I wasn't going to just walk right in. The silence was broken briefly by birds chirping in the trees above me. >l Liz's Front Porch The white concrete front porch of the Logan house was well-decorated, with the roof over the porch held up by four white columns. There were at least four windows, each one with thick lace curtains. The door in front of me was painted a bright red, and had a spiffy brass knocker. The porch ran north to the car port, and south into a side-yard. The driveway led east back to the road. Everything here seemed too 'clean' to me. I never really trusted these kind of people. >x knocker Quite shiny and somewhat pretentious. >x carport I couldn't see any such thing. >e I turned back to the road to go home and mull the matter over. Maybe I could try to call Liz from my parents' phone, or get one of her friends to--NAH--no one else needs to know about this, Will gets enough flack from those idiots. Maybe Liz IS gone for the week?? Or maybe she had to work today, or baby sit??? In that case, I thought I would just come back later on. As I reached the road, I heard something coming from the house. Noises. Like someone was home. Liz? Virgil Road, at Liz's House This was in front of Liz's house, which was to the west. A driveway headed up from the road, along a well-appointed yard to a car port beside the house. A white mailbox stood beside this end of the driveway. To the north was the more affluent section of Virgil Road; south the road led back to my house. >listen I didn't hear anything out of the ordinary. Some insect flew by my head, then flew off. >w I walked up the driveway along the well-planted flowerbed, intent on delivering the note. I stepped onto the white concrete porch, up to the front door. Liz's Front Porch The white concrete front porch of the Logan house was well-decorated, with the roof over the porch held up by four white columns. There were at least four windows, each one with thick lace curtains. The door in front of me was painted a bright red, and had a spiffy brass knocker. The porch ran north to the car port, and south into a side-yard. The driveway led east back to the road. Everything here seemed too 'clean' to me. I never really trusted these kind of people. >listen I didn't hear anything out of the ordinary. >use knocker I rapped on the door again, but I still couldn't get an answer. But I was still not convinced that the house was vacant. >use knocker I rapped on the door again, but I still couldn't get an answer. But I was still not convinced that the house was vacant. >use knocker I rapped on the door again, but I still couldn't get an answer. But I was still not convinced that the house was vacant. I heard the racket of people taking off on vacation, down the street. So long, suckers! >e From the racket that I heard coming from her house, I felt I should try harder to deliver the note. >n Though I know that there is probably another door in the carport, I'm not going to just walk in or keep knocking. Liz might think I'm some freakin' stalker--which would be more up Will's alley. >s I stepped quietly over to the south edge of the porch, and peeked around the side of the house. I saw nothing and no one in the fenced-in backyard, and there were a few reasonably low windows in the brick wall. Noting that there were no cars in the carport next door--and likely no nosy neighbor to spot me--I tip-toed over the short grass, to see which one I could look into. Now I feel like such a Peeping Tom...so not my style... Side Yard Here, I saw three large, relatively low windows, like the ones out front. In fact, they all had thick white lace curtains. And all the curtains here were halfway open, probably to let in soft light. I wondered which one, right, left or middle window, I could look into?? >save Ok. >x right Just like the other two. It seemed dark inside, so I would have to get up closer to get a look inside, due to the bright light of the Sun. >x left Just like the other two. It seemed dark inside, so I would have to get up closer to get a look inside, due to the bright light of the Sun. >x middle Just like the other two. It seemed dark inside, so I would have to get up closer to get a look inside, due to the bright light of the Sun. >u I tried flapping my wings, with predictable results. >look through left I moved in closer to get a good look past the curtains. As my eyes adjusted, I got a shock--holy FUCK... Liz was there. And she was IN A BIKINI. She must have just come out of the shower. She was standing in front of a mirror, facing away from me, looking at herself--she seemed to be trying the bikini on, like it was new. I noted a large carrier bag next to the mirror, as if she was getting ready to go to the beach or something. Her black hair was tied up, showing her entire neck. She had on a set of headphones--probably why she didn't hear me. She seemed to be posing in front of the mirror. My jaw literally dropped. I didn't know she was THAT hot! The bikini bottom was practically a thong. And her tits were HUGE. She always wore these blouses buttoned up to where you couldn't tell. And yes she had a little fat here and there. But now I could tell that it was just right. She had her hands on her hips looking in the mirror, at various aspects. And her bottom was tight. I couldn't help but keep looking. Then after a moment, she bent over and reached into the carrier bag. Her rear end was totally in my direction. She took a book out of the bag, and then she moved over to her bed and flopped down on it. She took off her headset and started reading. I had to step away, afraid I might be discovered. But also to bring my fuckin' hard-on under control. Despite my loyalty to my friend, I couldn't help but think that I wouldn't mind getting myself some of that. But maybe now, she'll hear my knock on the door...?? That's exactly what I did! I made sure that Liz, ahem, was home. You earned 5 points for helping me remember! >look through middle I moved in closer to get a good peek. As my eyes adjusted to the dimmer light in the room, I think I saw something that looked like a drawing board, with an extended lamp attached to it. The walls were covered with bookcases and there were some file cabinets here and there. Maybe this was her dad's office at home, maybe he's an engineer or an architect...?? No one there. I moved away from the window. Side Yard Here, I saw three large, relatively low windows, like the ones out front. In fact, they all had thick white lace curtains. And all the curtains here were halfway open, probably to let in soft light. >look through right I moved closer to get a good peek. As my eyes adjusted, I saw what looked like a cavernous front room, probably their family room, with some plush sofas and a huge TV set, bookcases here and there, and the inside of a couple of the windows out front. But no one was there, not even in the hallway leading away straight ahead. I stepped back. Side Yard Here, I saw three large, relatively low windows, like the ones out front. In fact, they all had thick white lace curtains. And all the curtains here were halfway open, probably to let in soft light. >n Liz's Front Porch The white concrete front porch of the Logan house was well-decorated, with the roof over the porch held up by four white columns. There were at least four windows, each one with thick lace curtains. The door in front of me was painted a bright red, and had a spiffy brass knocker. The porch ran north to the car port, and south into a side-yard. The driveway led east back to the road. Everything here seemed too 'clean' to me. I never really trusted these kind of people. The silence was broken briefly by birds chirping in the trees above me. >use knocker Knowing that Liz could probably hear me now, I gave the door a number of steady and insistent raps with my knuckles--the knocker would just be too loud and rude. Finally, I heard Liz's voice say, "Just a minute!" Probably getting on a robe or something. Then the door opened. And there she was, in a petite, dark blue terry cloth robe. "Oh, it's you...", she said, looking me over, surprisingly without the slightest hint of disappointment in her voice. "Um....Tom", she said, her eyes coming up to my face, with a blink. I was speechless. I thought I sensed a bit of the "bad girl" in her, and it took me aback. And I noticed that I had forgotten about Anne for a moment. Then I remembered my task. A vehicle sped by on Virgil Road, kicking up dust and gravel. >give note to liz Which do you mean, the secret note or Will's note? >i I was carrying: a green backpack (closed) the note for Liz Will's note my keyring my locker key my house key a pack of Vance peanut butter crackers my ripped notebook my usual threads (being worn) my green pencil My pocket was empty. The silence was broken briefly by birds chirping in the trees above me. >give not for liz to liz I couldn't see any such thing. >give note for liz to liz Finally, I got myself psyched up. I said-- "Liz, I need to give this to you. It's from my friend Will Woolridge." I held the note out to her. She stared at it for a moment, as if in disbelief, then took it. Then I nodded my head, said, "Cool. See you later." I started walking back down the driveway. "Tom, wait," she said. I stopped. Oh shit. I walked back up to the porch. "Why don't you come in and we'll talk about this, because I want you to tell Will some things and I don't want him to think the wrong thing." That sounded reasonable enough to me, I wanted to do right by Will and wanted him to have an accurate picture of her response. Plus I could make sure that she read the note. I just hoped that I could get home sometime tonight and strum my guitar. Or give Anne a knock. On her door. I stepped into the house, and Liz closed the door behind me. Then she hopped onto a plush armchair, and invited me to sit on the sofa next to it, as she began to unfold William's note. Mission accomplished--or so it seemed. Logan Living Room (on the red couch) Liz's cavernous living room. It seemed like the walls here were covered with books. The room was lit by sunlight pouring in through the windows to the east and the one window to the south. A huge flat-screen TV stood on a bookcase against the west wall; next to it was a hallway going west--and, no doubt to Liz's room. I was sitting on the red couch across from the TV, and there was a long glass coffee table parallel to the couch. Another hall led north into another room. Liz was sitting in a blue plush armchair, near the couch, carefully reading Will's note. Liz began the first page of the note. She frowned in concentration--then I swear her cheeks turned a little red as she got to the middle of the page. Her eyes rolled a little as she flipped the page over. That's exactly what I did! I fulfilled an obligation to my best friend...although it will result in absolute frickin' disaster. You earned 20 points for helping me remember! >x liz She's 'petite' alright--and compact. With jet-black hair, tied up to reveal a short but delicate neck. Dark eyes, and a face that needed no make-up. And I know that there was a lot more to her inside that little blue robe she was wearing. I could tell that her breasts were just pushing against it. The robe did little to hide the firmness of her bottom. Liz grinned a little shyly when she caught me staring. "Hmmm," she said, "so he does, does he?", whispering to herself, as she finished the back of the first page, moving on to the second notebook page. Must have been where he said he wants to "spend the rest of his life" with her. Ick. >x robe The only thing interesting about that robe was what was freakin' inside of it. She frowned again, as she read the second page. Then rolled her eyes, and continued reading, looking a bit bored. Then she looked at me. "I'm sorry," she said, "Would you like something to drink??" I told her no, thanks. She went on reading. She must have reached the 'poem' part of the letter, because she seemed to look a little "touched" or "sentimental"--or maybe "amused" was the right word. >x bottom I couldn't see any such thing. >x hair I couldn't see any such thing. >x books There were tons of books, of many different kinds. Liz flipped the second page over and took a breath, as if trying to read patiently. That must be the part where Will fills the page with seemingly incessant rambling crap about this or that. She continued to read. >x tv It was huge and sat on a fancy long bookshelf. It was decorated with family knick-knacks. Now Liz appeared to be near the end, on the page with her name on the back. A look of concern appeared on her face. She must have reached the part where Will finally suggests that they "go out", or wants her to write back, or whatever it is that she is never going to do. Her eyes rolled a little as she reached the bottom of the page. >x table It was long, with a very shiny glass top and wood-grain cabinet under. Very middle-class. Finishing the letter, she went back to page one, and re-read the whole note swiftly--I always thought she was a thorough reader. She mumbled, "Let me make sure of what I want to say," as she scanned it. >x chair A deep blue and just as comfortable-looking as I knew the couch was. Liz was sitting in a blue plush armchair, near the couch, carefully reading Will's note. When she finished the note again, she folded it in half, with hands stretched out over her knees, nodding her head at me with her eyes closed, and a grimace. And I couldn't help staring at her cleavage as she did this... Opening her eyes again, with a grin, she said, "Tom, I want to tell you some things that I want you to say to Will--and, I want to tell you things I hope you will not say to anyone." I said, "My ears are open." >x table It was long, with a very shiny glass top and wood-grain cabinet under. Very middle-class. "Great. First, what I want you to say to Will. Tom, tell him that I think he's 'sweet'"--the kiss of death to any guy who's hot for a girl--"but that I'm--ah--seeing someone, and that the guy I'm seeing is quite older than us, and not a student at our school. Tell him that I thought that his note was very thoughtful and I appreciated him being honest with me. That I had no idea he felt that way about me and it surprised me." I nodded dutifully. >ask liz about liz She was still talking to me. It was best not to interrupt. "And tell him that we can always be friends." That was the other shoe. This line in teen shows always made me gag. She got up from the chair, leaving the letter and the paperback on the coffee table, and pausing as she stepped around the table, she asked me again if I'd like something to drink--again I said, no, thanks. She sat down at the other end of the couch, and turned to me, saying, "Now here's what I want to say to you." She closed her eyes, gathering her thoughts. >listen I didn't hear anything out of the ordinary. Liz opened her eyes again and said, "Tom, I'm not exactly the kind of girl you and Will seem to think I am--of course that's probably pretty obvious to you now." She looked at me as if searching my face. "You know I get notes like that all the time now. Honestly, I don't know how to respond. I really don't want to hurt Will. He's sweet, and I'm sure one day he will find a girl that is for him." That'll be the day, I thought. >z Time passed. Liz went on. She got 'pensive'. "I knew that this was going to happen. I didn't know he ever felt that way about me, but sometimes in class I would feel like I was being watched. I'd look up and around, and there he would be, staring at me with this sad look on his face. Then he would shake his head and go back to his book. I wasn't sure, but I felt I would be hearing from him, somehow." >z Time passed. "Really, I'm flattered. Tell him that, too." I said, "I've been tryin' to show Will how to loosen up, because I think he'll never get a girl being this serious. He needs to learn confidence, and not to be so scared of his shadow." She smiled at me, saying, "Well, you're the right kind of guy to do it." For a moment I wondered if there was some hidden message there for me, but she went on again. "Tom, I have something that I want to share with you, something I've been wanting to tell someone..." >z Time passed. She looked at me close, straight in the eyes. "The guy I have been seeing. He's about 20 years older. He takes me out. Gives me nice things. My parents don't know. But he's married." I thought, oh shit. "I just love the attention he showers me with. You know what's funny? He's just like Will--underconfident, not a risk-taker, so straight-laced. And he thinks I'm the same nice girl you guys have seen at school." >z Time passed. "I love the things he does for me, with me, things I'd always love to do with a guy." Looking in my eyes, intently, she said, "But you see, Tom, I don't love HIM." Oh crap, this was getting pretty deep. But then I said, "Well, Liz, you know you gotta stop that shit--he's married, you don't love him, you've got to break it off." She looked down, saying, "Oh, I know. I'm only leading him on. But you see, I want those things! And I want a guy to appreciate how--sophisticated--I am. How--mature--I am..." I guess I didn't realize how close she had moved towards me on the couch. >z Time passed. She looked down again. "Tom, I envy you. I see you in school every day, and you are nothing more--and nothing less--than you. People know exactly what they are going to get from you--what you're damn well willing to give them." She grinned, knowing that she was damn right. "Me, I have to appear 'together', I feel so much expectation on me. I have to have straight As, and show purity and commitment and serious shit like that. That's not all that I am, but unfortunately, that's all people see, and even worse, that's what the guys at school, guys like Will, think they're attracted to." >z Time passed. "I HATE it. But I'm caught up in this image. One day I want to break out of it! Tell you what, Tom, over this Spring Break, I resolve to live a new life!" She looked me in the eyes, again, proudly. "And do you know what?" Her tone got lower, as she moved even closer. "Do you know what, Tom?" As I turned my head to speak, she grabbed the back of my head with her right hand and pulled me in to a big, wet kiss on the mouth. Pausing and moving away for a moment, she then threw a leg over my lap and climbed onto me, kissing me on the mouth even more ravenously. I couldn't help but grope her back and waist. >z Time passed. Then suddenly she broke away. Sitting back on my knees, she said, almost mournfully, "Tom, I think I've finally realized that you--YOU--are the one I'm in love with." To my stunned look--though I wasn't WHOLLY UNwelcoming of her embraces--she backed off of me, saying, "But you're right, I should be more self-controlled. I....I'm sorry." Though the fact that she was probably almost freakin' nude under that robe wasn't lost on me. I told her, "Liz, just know that I appreciate YOU--the REAL you." She replied, haltingly, "Yes, I know." "Tom," she said, turning to the hall to the west, "can you excuse me for a minute? I need to go take care of something." "Go right ahead," I said, as she picked Will's note, and her paperback, up off the coffee table. She gave me a long sideways glance, and a big wink, as she paced intently down the hall. Great, a chance to bring down my hard-on again. Then came the shame. I felt like I had betrayed Will. And Anne. >save Ok. >w If Liz was building a seduct-o-room, I wasn't about to walk in on it. >e (first getting off the red couch) (first opening the red front door) Though I'd love to go home and put this all out of my mind--do some strumming, or Anne--I felt that Liz wasn't quite "finished". I opted to "stick around". >turn on tv It was not good manners of me to turn on the TV when a guest in someone's house. >search books I thought it rude to nose around other people's stuff. >l Logan Living Room Liz's cavernous living room. It seemed like the walls here were covered with books. The room was lit by sunlight pouring in through the windows to the east and the one window to the south. A huge flat-screen TV stood on a bookcase against the west wall; next to it was a hallway going west--and, no doubt to Liz's room. There was a red couch against the east wall, facing the TV, and there was a long glass coffee table parallel to the couch. Near the couch was a blue plush armchair. Another hall led north into another room. Just as I was about to say "Fuck it," and just go about my ways, I heard a door open down the hall. Liz shuffled back into the living room. Thankfully, still in her robe. She pushed a note--yeh, yet another note--into my reluctant hands. "Can you please give this to Will? He wrote me a note, so I know he's expecting the same in return." I said "Oh, okay. Thanks for inviting me in, but I have to go now," and turned to the door, so as not to encourage any more, like, seriousness from her. Then I felt her clutch at my arm, I turned, and she hopped up and gave me a peck on the cheek. Looking into my eyes--oh shit--she said, "I hope I didn't make you uncomfortable?" I shook my head, though I was bothered as hell. She looked down, and then up again, hopefully. "I guess we can keep being friends, I'm okay with that!" I was, too. She escorted me to the door, relievingly. "You'll call me, won't you? Tell me how Will responds to my note..??" In my own time, I thought, as I nodded. All this dutifulness and promised telephone contact was about to make me keel over. I stepped out onto the porch, when she asked after me, "So Tom, what're you doing tonight?" Oh crap. I made something up. "Got some obligations, gonna do some stuff, catch up on my homework." I fucked up with that one, so I kept on talking hoping she would miss it. "Wha, what are you doing?" I really just wanted to keep walking, so I slowly stepped to the edge of the porch. She said, all downcast again, "Going on a date, with...him. We're going to some beach." Giving her an understanding look, I said, "Well, okay, I hope you have a good time. I'll give your note to Will and let you know how he reacts. You have a good night." I headed into the yard. "Good night to you!" she waved to me, as she closed the door. I could have sworn I heard a sob as I walked to the street. Please press SPACE to continue. It took me a while to get what just happened out of my head, enough to realize that the sky was getting dimmer and I had already turned the corner onto Russel Street, and was back at home. And I almost forgot that I had Liz's response to Will in my hand, and that I had a call to make. But, of course, all in my own friggin' time. I'm Will's friend, not his lackey. Or hers. Though she had some ta-tas that I might do almost anything for. My Front Yard Russel Street, from the west, ended just east of here, running into Virgil Road, which runs north-south. The front of my parents' house sported a number of awesome old trees, a large front deck, and an empty gravel driveway. Apparently, Mom and Dad took off early, and took both vehicles. My mom's flower beds occupied the space to either side of the deck. The steps up the deck were to the south; southwest was the trail around the house to my shack out back. Our rickety mailbox stood at the end of the driveway. >open mailbox I opened our mailbox, and found nothing. Mom and Dad must have taken the mail with them. >close it Albeit beat-up to the point of being hard to close, believe me, it was closed. >s I stepped up onto the deck of the house. On The Deck I was on my parents' front deck. The wood railing and nearly every spot on the deck was occupied by my Mom's colorful potted plants. Their deck chairs sat here astride the front door to the south, under an awning. A welcome mat lay on the floor at the door, which was closed. Some insect flew by my head, then flew off. >x plants A bunch of front yard stuff that my Mom likes to plant and arrange. I've come home to it for years. A vehicle sped by on Virgil Road, kicking up dust and gravel. >search plants I know dip about plants. If I can't name it, I don't mess with it. >x chairs Mom and Dad's. They relax here every day when it's nice outside. I heard the racket of people taking off on vacation, down the street. So long, suckers! >search chairs I found nothing of interest. >x mat One of those green turf mats with a little flower at the top corner, and "WELCOME" in large red letters. Nothing fancy. Mom's flower arrangement was elaborate enough. >search it This mat had its share of being messed with. >look under it This mat had its share of being messed with. A vehicle sped by on Virgil Road, kicking up dust and gravel. >move it This mat had its share of being messed with. >open door It seemed to be locked. I heard the racket of people taking off on vacation, down the street. So long, suckers! >unlock door I selected the house key from my keyring. I unlocked the front door with my key. The silence was broken briefly by birds chirping in the trees above me. >s I had a weird thought that maybe I should go ahead and call Will, get this over with? I preferred to use my own phone. Oh, this fuckin' obligation! >i I was carrying: Liz's reply a green backpack (closed) Will's note my keyring my house key my locker key a pack of Vance peanut butter crackers my ripped notebook my usual threads (being worn) my green pencil My pocket was empty. >n Duh, I wasn't about to leave the house with the front door unlocked; I locked the door. I stepped back down into the yard. My Front Yard Russel Street, from the west, ended just east of here, running into Virgil Road, which runs north-south. The front of my parents' house sported a number of awesome old trees, a large front deck, and an empty gravel driveway. Apparently, Mom and Dad took off early, and took both vehicles. My mom's flower beds occupied the space to either side of the deck. The steps up the deck were to the south; southwest was the trail around the house to my shack out back. Our rickety mailbox stood at the end of the driveway. >sw I took my little trail around the back of the house, to my one special place. Finally, I get some rest from all this obligation. Back Yard My place was this little outbuilding with white aluminum siding that my dad built for me out back, as a 16th birthday present for me, last year. But I think they don't plan on my being out here forever; I've heard them discussing renting it out next year when I 'go to college' or something like that. Or Dad will make it his personal office. Whatever. The door, to the south, had a single cinderblock step going up to it. It gave me a sense of 'getting off the ground', which I sort of liked. To the southeast, behind my shed, was the 'secret' trail through the trees that I often took to Anne's place. Northeast was the way I got here. >s (first opening the metal door) It seemed to be locked. >open door It seemed to be locked. >unlock it I selected the house key from my keyring. I unlocked my door with my key. >s (first opening the metal door) I swung open my door to freedom. I stepped into my bungalo. My Place Yep. My digs. Not too cavernous or shit, probably about as big as half a motel room. And everything within reach of the bed. Window on the south wall. My bed took up the east half of the room, my stereo set and closet, with a closed metal door, on the west side. You might have thought I put posters and crap on my walls, well I don't need shit like that. Rather against my wishes, my dad rigged up a telephone in here, fortunately a land line. I hate wireless. Oh, no john in here. I had to use the can in the house. Fuckin' bummer. And no clock. I didn't observe time out here. Mom would call me on my phone to wake me up mornings. All I needed was my guitar, which was leaning against the wall by the window. Lying on the floor near the window was my flashlight. Very handy. >take all acoustic guitar: Got it. flashlight: Got it. >call will I picked up the phone and dialed William. He picked up before the first ring was even finished. He must have fuckin' been sitting by the phone all this damn time. "Tom! Did you give her my letter??" Will said, breathing like a frisky dog. "Like, yeah, man. Listen, Will, uhhh..." I paused, because it just hit me that no matter how I fuckin' sliced it, Will was going to get bad news. Which might mean more obligation and fuckin' dutifulness for me. And I wasn't up for that shit, not on a Friday night. Please press SPACE to continue. But I decided to just get it the fuck over with, so I laid it on him flat. "Will, she's seeing someone. I don't fuckin' know what else to tell you," I said. There was a long pause. Please press SPACE to continue. Then, just when I thought I was going to be let off the hook, he said, "Who?", as if he didn't believe me. "I don't fuckin' know, man, she didn't tell me. Listen, Will, you're better off without her, you don't know her." I chose not to tell him about the note that she wrote; he'd want me to give it to him right away, and I wanted to do that on my own time, maybe tomorrow. Please press SPACE to continue. All disappointed and shit, he said, "Well did she have something to tell me??" Oh shit. I started to feel like the more I told him, the more he'd want to know and the harder it would be for him to frickin' let go. The harder it would be for me to start my damn vacation. Please press SPACE to continue. But I didn't want to lie to him, either. So I said, "Yeah, she said you're a sweet guy, and all, and that she just didn't see herself with you, and she's not the right girl for you. But she wishes you success and that you will find the right girl. Soon." Another fuckin' pause. "So she said that?" Please press SPACE to continue. Feeling relief, because he sounded hopeful and I thought that was because he actually felt that he was going to find someone equally desirable to him and therefore he was going to forget about Liz, I said, with a relieved sigh, "Yeah, Will, she said that. And I agree. So I guess I'll see you..." "Maybe I need for her to get to know me better? That's it! She sees me only at school, maybe she needs to know how I really am and what I'm interested in!?" Please press SPACE to continue. Oh fuck. That would make it even worse. He said, "What did you tell her about me?" A thousand fucks! Lying just wasn't my thing, but being honest didn't always put me in a good spot. And I really wasn't into this he said, she said bullshit. So I said, "Look, man, I just gave her your note. She told me that stuff. Then I left. I didn't..." "So you didn't tell her about me? She doesn't really know me yet?" His rising excitement was beginning to really bother me. Please press SPACE to continue. I said, "Well, I guess maybe..." "Maybe if I went over to see her?? If she sees me, maybe she will drop her defenses!" Please press SPACE to continue. I said, "Will, I don't know if I'd..." He broke in, like he did often, when he thought he was frickin' right, "Of course! If I went to see her, maybe she'd change her mind! Maybe my note just wasn't enough!" At least he was damn right about that. Or wrong, it was too fuckin' much. "Listen, Tom, you've got me motivated! My courage is up. I am going to go see her! Then she'll realize that she's with the wrong guy! Thanks, I don't know what I'd do without you!" Click. He hung up. Fuckin' great. Now I had a friend who was setting himself up for an even bigger fall. All he would have to do is take the walk up Virgil Street and he'd be at Liz's. And she's probably not even there, so he'll camp out on her porch until she gets home. And I still had the note that Liz wrote, which I had not delivered. Why the fuck do I get mixed up in this kind of shit? Why do I even give a fuck? Please press SPACE to continue. I realized I had a choice. I could either go back out again and try to intercept Will, talk fuckin' sense to him, and deliver Liz's note. Or I could just say fuck it, and hang out here at home, strum my guitar, go visit Anne, and have something resembling a weekend. Will can camp out, embarass himself, and learn the friggin' lesson on his own. But it was fuckin' tempting to be an agent for change in someone's life. Probably because deep down, I felt powerless in my own..?? My Place Yep. My digs. Not too cavernous or shit, probably about as big as half a motel room. And everything within reach of the bed. Window on the south wall. My bed took up the east half of the room, my stereo set and closet, with a closed metal door, on the west side. You might have thought I put posters and crap on my walls, well I don't need shit like that. Rather against my wishes, my dad rigged up a telephone in here, fortunately a land line. I hate wireless. Oh, no john in here. I had to use the can in the house. Fuckin' bummer. And no clock. I didn't observe time out here. Mom would call me on my phone to wake me up mornings. That's exactly what I did! I completed my obligation to my friend....though this led only to more obligation. You earned 10 points for helping me remember! >save Ok. >s (first opening the square window) It seemed to be locked. >x window It looked out into the thick woods behind my trailer, and I could see the path leading south from it. It had a lock on the inside, and is currently closed and locked. >n I stepped out the door, and back into friggin' reality. Back Yard My place was this little outbuilding with white aluminum siding that my dad built for me out back, as a 16th birthday present for me, last year. But I think they don't plan on my being out here forever; I've heard them discussing renting it out next year when I 'go to college' or something like that. Or Dad will make it his personal office. Whatever. The door, to the south, had a single cinderblock step going up to it. It gave me a sense of 'getting off the ground', which I sort of liked. To the southeast, behind my shed, was the 'secret' trail through the trees that I often took to Anne's place. Northeast was the way I got here. >ne I stepped back out front of the house. My Front Yard Russel Street, from the west, ended just east of here, running into Virgil Road, which runs north-south. The front of my parents' house sported a number of awesome old trees, a large front deck, and an empty gravel driveway. Apparently, Mom and Dad took off early, and took both vehicles. My mom's flower beds occupied the space to either side of the deck. The steps up the deck were to the south; southwest was the trail around the house to my shack out back. Our rickety mailbox stood at the end of the driveway. >e Corner At Virgil This was the gravelly, kind of country road going north-south, intersecting my street, near my parents' house to the west. The entire east side of this road was pure forest. The west side going north was occupied by other middle-class homes like my family's. Well, probably a little 'above' our class. Liz's house is a little further north. I heard the racket of people taking off on vacation, down the street. So long, suckers! Suddenly I saw Will's excited ass coming up the road from the south. Will kept coming up the road towards me, a freakin' grin on his face. I felt sorry I had to kill his spirits soon. >give note to will I couldn't see any such thing. >x will I couldn't see any such thing. >i I was carrying: a flashlight my acoustic guitar Liz's reply a green backpack (closed) Will's note my keyring my house key my locker key a pack of Vance peanut butter crackers my ripped notebook my usual threads (being worn) my green pencil My pocket was empty. Will kept coming up the road towards me, a freakin' grin on his face. >give reply to will I couldn't see any such thing. >x reply It was a very neatly folded note, on purple stationery. On the front of it was written, in fine female cursive, Will. "Hey Tom, are you coming with me?? That'll be great! You can witness the start of a beautiful affair!" Give me a frickin' break. But I had no choice, he just kept walking. Against my character, I followed him, due to my concern. I caught up with him at her door. Liz's Front Porch The white concrete front porch of the Logan house was well-decorated, with the roof over the porch held up by four white columns. There were at least four windows, each one with thick lace curtains. The door in front of me was painted a bright red, and had a spiffy brass knocker. The porch ran north to the car port, and south into a side-yard. The driveway led east back to the road. Everything here seemed too 'clean' to me. I never really trusted these kind of people. Will was there, looking miserable. Will started rapping lightly on her door. At least he didn't use the knocker. I chose to keep fuckin' quiet, in case she was actually home. There was no answer. Will knocked again. And again, and again. No answer. Dejected, he looked at me, slapping his hips with his hands. >give note to will Will pushed his own note away, without even looking at it. Freakin' help-rejecter. >read it Will wrote, in his urgent script-- Tom-- I really really need this favor from you. It's very important to me. Can you please please deliver this note to Elizabeth Logan--DON'T OPEN IT!--I'll tell you about it later! Can you take it to her today, after school?? It really must be this evening! Please?? Sorry this is so urgent, but it's really important to me! Call me when you get it to her, okay?? I will be so grateful! Thank you so much! Will >read reply But I would have to open it, first! >give reply to will Will started to push the note away, but then he saw what it was--must have been the purple color that caught his attention. He took it and began to read it. He got one of his crestfallen looks on his face, and then muttered "Who is she dating?", but kept reading. He looked up from the note, staring in the distance. He said, "I will treasure this forever," tucking the note into his pocket. Foolishly relieved, I said, "Okay, Will, now let's go ho..." "You know, Tom, maybe she just doesn't realize how much I am in love with her. And if she does, maybe she'll go out with me?" He continued to rap on the door. Rolling my eyes, and not fuckin' believing what I was hearing, I said, "Will, you don't even have a car. You ride the bus to school. And home. She is seeing someone else, someone older. She doesn't date guys like us. She told me. She prefers older guys with cars. Guys that can take her out to fine restaurants, not the Quick Chek Drive Thru, Home of the Slushinator." I stopped when he started looking all offended. "Look, Will, I know you think you 'love' her. But she's no good for you. I know it." He looked put off again, and said, "Who are you to say that she's no good?" "Will, she's no good for you. You two would never get along. She's not really as interested in things as you are. She's looking for some rich guy to latch onto. Believe me, it's the truth." Will looked down at the floor again. Then he said, "Well, maybe that's for me to find out." He continued to rap on the door, as I rolled my eyes again. I had to figure out a way to get him off the porch. Maybe if I was able to see for sure whether she was home? Like, by looking in her bedroom window, like I did last time, or looking around for some kind of note? At least it might end this episode and I can get some peace for the night. >s I went back around the side of the house, maybe I could look in the windows and see some sign of Liz having left? Side Yard Here, I saw three large, relatively low windows, like the ones out front. In fact, they all had thick white lace curtains. And all the curtains here were halfway open, probably to let in soft light. >look through left I stuck my head to the wall beside the window, and slowly looked into her bedroom. I also listened; no sound. As my eyes adjusted, I saw her blue robe thrown onto the bed, beside her paperback from earlier, and Will's note to her on top of the robe. There was no sign of the bikini, and her closet was open--so she was probably dressed, either in the bikini or other clothes. Ah, and I noticed that the carrier bag that was there next to the mirror was gone. So likely she was not home. >look through middle Her dad's office--no one in there, no sign of Liz. >look through right I looked in that window--the living room. No one in there. >n I stepped around back onto the porch saying, "Will, I'm sorry man, but I don't see any sign of her and her carrier bag is gone. She is probably gone, man." He looked up from his spot on the floor, and said, "Are we sure she's gone? Could she have left a note for someone, somewhere??" I had a thought that maybe there was a note somewhere, probably in the carport?? The silence was broken briefly by birds chirping in the trees above me. >n I told Will, "Hold on a minute, let me look in the carport." I stepped around to the carport, and saw a note on the door, saying "Henriette, Gone to the beach with friends, don't worry, will be back later, XXX Liz". Yeah, friends. I recalled that Henriette was their groundskeeper who worked on their yards Saturday mornings. I'd say it was an awesome garden, but I'm a guy so I wouldn't frickin' know. I stepped back on the porch, saying, "Will, there's a note here saying Liz is gone to the beach with some friends. So she's not here. Maybe we should go home and think this through." I kicked myself for saying we. This wasn't MY problem. Dejected and downcast again, Will tore away from the porch, as if he forgot I was even friggin' there. I followed him off to the street, to make sure he didn't throw himself in front of a car somewhere. Please press SPACE to continue. I caught up with him on the street, where he just continued to walk with that same, slow, stupid feel-sorry-for-me pace he always walked with when he was feeling sorry for himself. He didn't even look up at me. I actually felt sorry for him. I said, "Hey Will, why don't you come home with me, we'll order a pizza." I immediately kicked myself, as that was not my plan for the evening. He looked up at me pathetically, shook his head, and then pressed on, hanging his friggin' sourpuss face again. Ugh I hated that. When we got to the corner, I just let him walk on, and watched him disappear. He didn't even look back. As I stepped into my yard, I noticed that the sky had gotten a bit orange, like evening had begun. Which reminded me of my obligations to myself. Rest of the world, fuck off! My Front Yard Russel Street, from the west, ended just east of here, running into Virgil Road, which runs north-south. The front of my parents' house sported a number of awesome old trees, a large front deck, and an empty gravel driveway. Apparently, Mom and Dad took off early, and took both vehicles. My mom's flower beds occupied the space to either side of the deck. The steps up the deck were to the south; southwest was the trail around the house to my shack out back. Our rickety mailbox stood at the end of the driveway. I had a thought that maybe I should friggin' eat something, before I did anything of grave fuckin' importance. Maybe Mom cooked something up for me? Waiting in the oven, in the house? Suddenly I felt hungry as fuck. All this obligation to others' bullshit, maybe. I had a thought maybe I would throw my frozen pizza into the oven and chow down on it. Then I would see if Anne was available. You know, just play it by ear. That's exactly what I did! I made sure Liz was not home. You earned 5 points for helping me remember! >s I stepped up onto the deck of the house. On The Deck I was on my parents' front deck. The wood railing and nearly every spot on the deck was occupied by my Mom's colorful potted plants. Their deck chairs sat here astride the front door to the south, under an awning. A welcome mat lay on the floor at the door, which was closed. My stomach was grumbling. >unlock door I selected the house key from my keyring. I unlocked the front door with my key. Some insect flew by my head, then flew off. >open it I pushed open the door to the house, and my nose was immediately assaulted with whatever cinnamon air freshener crap my mom used. And a strange smell that I could not identify. A gentle wind blew in my face. >n Duh, I wasn't about to leave the house with the front door open; I closed and locked the door. I stepped back down into the yard. My Front Yard Russel Street, from the west, ended just east of here, running into Virgil Road, which runs north-south. The front of my parents' house sported a number of awesome old trees, a large front deck, and an empty gravel driveway. Apparently, Mom and Dad took off early, and took both vehicles. My mom's flower beds occupied the space to either side of the deck. The steps up the deck were to the south; southwest was the trail around the house to my shack out back. Our rickety mailbox stood at the end of the driveway. Some insect flew by my head, then flew off. >s I stepped up onto the deck of the house. On The Deck I was on my parents' front deck. The wood railing and nearly every spot on the deck was occupied by my Mom's colorful potted plants. Their deck chairs sat here astride the front door to the south, under an awning. A welcome mat lay on the floor at the door, which was closed. >s (first opening the white front door) It seemed to be locked. >unlock door I selected the house key from my keyring. I unlocked the front door with my key. >s (first opening the white front door) I pushed open the door to the house, and my nose was immediately assaulted with whatever cinnamon air freshener crap my mom used. And a strange smell that I could not identify. Finally, I stepped into the house. As I did so, I spotted a car drive up and stop next door; the driver got out carrying what looked like a pizza box to the house. Which only made me hungrier. Small Living Room As I said, the place was small. But it was cozy. Definitely good enough for Mom and Dad. It had central heating and air. Before me was all the usual living room stuff--a sofa, Dad's chair, TV set. No windows in here. Dad didn't like the idea of people lookin' in. Our kitchen was to the west; to the east was Mom and Dad's bedroom. The front door, which was hanging open, led back onto the deck to the north. >w I went into the kitchen to see what the burning smell was coming from. Mom left the oven on! I turned off the oven, and looked in to see if she had something cooking for me. It was my 16 inch Bobino's Supreme Pizza, my last one, that was in the freezer. She had left it cooking, thinking that I would be home very soon. But it was my fuckin' fault, because I allowed Will's bullshit to occupy my time. Now I'll have to figure something out if I want something to eat. Unless I eat the burnt pizza, which will completely suck. I got the pizza out with an oven glove, and put it on the table, now an icon of this evening's failure. It was then that I noticed yet another note on the table. Good god, another note. Kitchenette All you need in a kitchen was here--fridge, oven, small table, pantry and sink. Unless you want a friggin' microwave. You'd have to go next door; we hate that shit. The one telephone in the trailer was on the north wall near the pantry. Next to that was the window over the sink. West was my Mom's project room (my old room); east was back to the living room. On the small table were a burnt pizza, a credit card, an oven glove and Mom's note. >read mom's note In my Mom's fine, flowing script, it says-- Tom, I left your last frozen pizza in the oven to cook. I hope you get it in time, I know how you hate cooking. You get distracted and it burns. In case it does, your Dad left you one of his credit cards. Use it for a cab, if you need to go somewhere! Don't over-charge it! We love you, see you next week! At the bottom was the number I could reach them at. Though I won't need it. Suddenly I heard what sounded like a car kick up gravel next door, then burn rubber down the street. The delivery guy must not have gotten a tip. >take card Got it. >x pizza Totally black on top. I might have eaten it if it were slightly burnt, but surely all the flavor was cooked out of it. It was still smoking from being in the oven. >x oven (the small oven) My Mom's oven. She left it on when they left, to keep my pizza warm, and my pizza got burnt. My fuckin' bad, I should have come into the house before I got waylaid by that stupid mission. I felt like I was going to pass out and die of starvation. >open fridge I opened the refrigerator, looked around and saw only a bunch of the stuff that Mom and Dad eat--health and natural foods. They were on this 'eating adventure' kind of thing, where they cook everything from scratch. Looked like they forgot to stock up on stuff I like, like pizza rolls, frozen pizzas, frozen lasagna. Good tasting crap. That's me. How inconsiderate of them. Good thing they left a credit card for me on the table. >open freezer That was already open. >close it I shut the refrigerator with some emphasis. >l Kitchenette All you need in a kitchen was here--fridge, oven, small table, pantry and sink. Unless you want a friggin' microwave. You'd have to go next door; we hate that shit. The one telephone in the trailer was on the north wall near the pantry. Next to that was the window over the sink. West was my Mom's project room (my old room); east was back to the living room. On the small table were a burnt pizza, an oven glove and Mom's note. >x table Round and seats three. On the small table were a burnt pizza, an oven glove and Mom's note. >x pantry It has lots of cans of stuff I don't want to eat. Plus Mom took all of her pots and pans with her, so I was stuck with what was in the fridge or what I could buy. I was hungry for pizza, and could hardly wait to friggin' eat. The pizza seemed to have stopped smoking. >call for pizza I couldn't remember a number worth shit, plus I'd prefer to know who I am calling. [Just type CALL (someone known) --no need to type a number.] My stomach was grumbling. >call pizza I tried, but I just could not summon the burnt pizza. > I beg your pardon? >take glove (putting the green pencil into the green backpack to make room) The green backpack was closed. >open backpack I opened the green backpack. >take glove (putting the green pencil into the green backpack to make room) Okay, I know that this wasn't MY backpack. But it was in my possession, so I took a liberty. I put the green pencil into the backpack. Don't worry, I was going to take good care of it, and return it to its owner, at the soonest opportunity. Got it. >x backpack It looked rather brand-new, with two large shoulder straps. It looked cavernous on the inside, like it could hold a ton of shit, and it had a long zipper going over the top of it. There was a tag with writing on it on the front between the straps. It was open. In the green backpack was my green pencil. >read it It looked rather brand-new, with two large shoulder straps. It looked cavernous on the inside, like it could hold a ton of shit, and it had a long zipper going over the top of it. There was a tag with writing on it on the front between the straps. It was open. In the green backpack was my green pencil. I felt like I was going to pass out and die of starvation. >read tag It read--If found, please call 555-5250 (ask for Jackie). I'll call him. When I am good and ready. >call jackie I wasn't going to call him until I was good and ready. The immediate situation seemed to dominate my attention. >e Small Living Room As I said, the place was small. But it was cozy. Definitely good enough for Mom and Dad. It had central heating and air. Before me was all the usual living room stuff--a sofa, Dad's chair, TV set. No windows in here. Dad didn't like the idea of people lookin' in. Our kitchen was to the west; to the east was Mom and Dad's bedroom. The front door, which was hanging open, led back onto the deck to the north. >w Kitchenette All you need in a kitchen was here--fridge, oven, small table, pantry and sink. Unless you want a friggin' microwave. You'd have to go next door; we hate that shit. The one telephone in the trailer was on the north wall near the pantry. Next to that was the window over the sink. West was my Mom's project room (my old room); east was back to the living room. On the small table were a burnt pizza and Mom's note. >x sink Just your usual sink, with tap and drain. >w Mom's Project Room It used to be my room. This room was now full of various books, materials and whatnot that Mom used for her handcrafts and artwork. The bathroom, the one thing I lost when I moved outside to the shed, was to the west. Its door was closed. The exit to the kitchen, was to the east. >w (first opening the bathroom door) Our Bathroom Not much here at all, except everything you'd expect in a small bathroom in a double-wide trailer. Looks like both Mom and Dad took everything from the sink and cabinet with them on their vacation. I guess I wouldn't be shaving this week. Not that I was planning on it. The door was to the east. >pee That's not a verb I recognize. >e Mom's Project Room It used to be my room. This room was now full of various books, materials and whatnot that Mom used for her handcrafts and artwork. The bathroom, the one thing I lost when I moved outside to the shed, was to the west. Its door was closed. The exit to the kitchen, was to the east. I was hungry for pizza, and could hardly wait to friggin' eat. >e Kitchenette All you need in a kitchen was here--fridge, oven, small table, pantry and sink. Unless you want a friggin' microwave. You'd have to go next door; we hate that shit. The one telephone in the trailer was on the north wall near the pantry. Next to that was the window over the sink. West was my Mom's project room (my old room); east was back to the living room. On the small table were a burnt pizza and Mom's note. >call delivery I couldn't remember a number worth shit, plus I'd prefer to know who I am calling. [Just type CALL (someone known) --no need to type a number.] >e Small Living Room As I said, the place was small. But it was cozy. Definitely good enough for Mom and Dad. It had central heating and air. Before me was all the usual living room stuff--a sofa, Dad's chair, TV set. No windows in here. Dad didn't like the idea of people lookin' in. Our kitchen was to the west; to the east was Mom and Dad's bedroom. The front door, which was hanging open, led back onto the deck to the north. I felt like I was going to pass out and die of starvation. >n I stepped back out onto the deck. On The Deck I was on my parents' front deck. The wood railing and nearly every spot on the deck was occupied by my Mom's colorful potted plants. Their deck chairs sat here astride the front door to the south, under an awning. A welcome mat lay on the floor at the door, which was hanging open >s I stepped back into the house. Small Living Room As I said, the place was small. But it was cozy. Definitely good enough for Mom and Dad. It had central heating and air. Before me was all the usual living room stuff--a sofa, Dad's chair, TV set. No windows in here. Dad didn't like the idea of people lookin' in. Our kitchen was to the west; to the east was Mom and Dad's bedroom. The front door, which was hanging open, led back onto the deck to the north. >n I stepped back out onto the deck. On The Deck I was on my parents' front deck. The wood railing and nearly every spot on the deck was occupied by my Mom's colorful potted plants. Their deck chairs sat here astride the front door to the south, under an awning. A welcome mat lay on the floor at the door, which was hanging open >n Duh, I wasn't about to leave the house with the front door open; I closed and locked the door. I stepped back down into the yard. My Front Yard Russel Street, from the west, ended just east of here, running into Virgil Road, which runs north-south. The front of my parents' house sported a number of awesome old trees, a large front deck, and an empty gravel driveway. Apparently, Mom and Dad took off early, and took both vehicles. My mom's flower beds occupied the space to either side of the deck. The steps up the deck were to the south; southwest was the trail around the house to my shack out back. Our rickety mailbox stood at the end of the driveway. Blowing slowly across the yard was a small piece of paper; as light as it was, it looked like a receipt. >take paper (putting the ripped notebook into the green backpack to make room) I tossed the ripped notebook into the backpack. Got it. >read it Must have been from the pizza delivery guy-- Snazzio's Pizza 'The 24-Hour Pizza Place' 201 Nicknack Street Bunco Springs (a phone number that I couldn't friggin' remember) 16in Sup $6.00 Tax 0.48 Total $6.48 Delivered to Mr Dinkbinder 1413 Russel Street Have a Happy Day! I got an idea. I thought maybe I could call them and give it a try...?? I was hungry for pizza, and could hardly wait to friggin' eat. >s I stepped up onto the deck of the house. On The Deck I was on my parents' front deck. The wood railing and nearly every spot on the deck was occupied by my Mom's colorful potted plants. Their deck chairs sat here astride the front door to the south, under an awning. A welcome mat lay on the floor at the door, which was closed. >s (first opening the white front door) It seemed to be locked. The silence was broken briefly by birds chirping in the trees above me. >unlock door I selected the house key from my keyring. I unlocked the front door with my key. My stomach was grumbling. >s (first opening the white front door) I pushed open the door to the house, and my nose was immediately assaulted with whatever cinnamon air freshener crap my mom used. I stepped back into the house. Small Living Room As I said, the place was small. But it was cozy. Definitely good enough for Mom and Dad. It had central heating and air. Before me was all the usual living room stuff--a sofa, Dad's chair, TV set. No windows in here. Dad didn't like the idea of people lookin' in. Our kitchen was to the west; to the east was Mom and Dad's bedroom. The front door, which was hanging open, led back onto the deck to the north. >w Kitchenette All you need in a kitchen was here--fridge, oven, small table, pantry and sink. Unless you want a friggin' microwave. You'd have to go next door; we hate that shit. The one telephone in the trailer was on the north wall near the pantry. Next to that was the window over the sink. West was my Mom's project room (my old room); east was back to the living room. On the small table were a burnt pizza and Mom's note. >call Snazzio's I picked up the phone and dialled the number from the receipt. "Snazzio's Pizza, With Toppings Sliced and Diced, You Won't Call Twice, how can we help you? Sorry, no credit card orders over the phone." Crap. I got another idea. Imitating my neighbor's voice as best I friggin' could, I said, "I was just delivered the wrong pizza! I ordered a 16 inch Snazzio's Supreme, and got only a Cheese Pizza! And the delivery boy had a very bad attitude!" I thought of doing my usual fuckin' cussing, but then thought better of it. "I'm very sorry, sir. Fortunately, we usually give our delivery staff an extra 16inch Supreme for busy delivery days like this, and your delivery man is still out and about, we can send him straight back to you, and he will offer our deepest apologies! No charge!" "Fu--er--Great!" I said, almost in my real voice. Then quickly I said, "Hey, can you send him to 1411 Russel, I'm at my neighbor's house!" "Sure, that's 1411 Russel. He'll be there in minutes!" "Thank you so much!" "Thank you, sir, and have a happy day!" Click. Fuckin' magnificent. I'm about to get a free pizza. That's exactly what I did! I got a pizza for free. You earned 10 points for helping me remember! >l Kitchenette All you need in a kitchen was here--fridge, oven, small table, pantry and sink. Unless you want a friggin' microwave. You'd have to go next door; we hate that shit. The one telephone in the trailer was on the north wall near the pantry. Next to that was the window over the sink. West was my Mom's project room (my old room); east was back to the living room. On the small table were a burnt pizza and Mom's note. >x window Just a little window that looks over the property out front. I was hungry for pizza, and could hardly wait to friggin' eat. >e Small Living Room As I said, the place was small. But it was cozy. Definitely good enough for Mom and Dad. It had central heating and air. Before me was all the usual living room stuff--a sofa, Dad's chair, TV set. No windows in here. Dad didn't like the idea of people lookin' in. Our kitchen was to the west; to the east was Mom and Dad's bedroom. The front door, which was hanging open, led back onto the deck to the north. >n I stepped back out onto the deck. On The Deck I was on my parents' front deck. The wood railing and nearly every spot on the deck was occupied by my Mom's colorful potted plants. Their deck chairs sat here astride the front door to the south, under an awning. A welcome mat lay on the floor at the door, which was hanging open Some insect flew by my head, then flew off. >n Duh, I wasn't about to leave the house with the front door open; I closed and locked the door. I stepped back down into the yard. My Front Yard Russel Street, from the west, ended just east of here, running into Virgil Road, which runs north-south. The front of my parents' house sported a number of awesome old trees, a large front deck, and an empty gravel driveway. Apparently, Mom and Dad took off early, and took both vehicles. My mom's flower beds occupied the space to either side of the deck. The steps up the deck were to the south; southwest was the trail around the house to my shack out back. Our rickety mailbox stood at the end of the driveway. The silence was broken briefly by birds chirping in the trees above me. My stomach was grumbling. A car came around the corner and stopped in front of our trailer. It was the Snazzio's dude. "Hey, Buddy!" says the delivery guy. "Here's your Snazzio's Supreme!" He hopped out of his car, flung the pizza box at the trailer. I ducked, as it just about friggin' hit me, and hit the side of the trailer, landing on the deck. The driver sped away--"Tip-ripper, kiss my ass!" He was gone. That's what I call fast service. >x pizza I couldn't see any such thing. >l My Front Yard Russel Street, from the west, ended just east of here, running into Virgil Road, which runs north-south. The front of my parents' house sported a number of awesome old trees, a large front deck, and an empty gravel driveway. Apparently, Mom and Dad took off early, and took both vehicles. My mom's flower beds occupied the space to either side of the deck. The steps up the deck were to the south; southwest was the trail around the house to my shack out back. Our rickety mailbox stood at the end of the driveway. A bee buzzed by my head; I flinched. Those things freak me out. I was hungry for pizza, and could hardly wait to friggin' eat. >s I stepped up onto the deck of the house. On The Deck I was on my parents' front deck. The wood railing and nearly every spot on the deck was occupied by my Mom's colorful potted plants. Their deck chairs sat here astride the front door to the south, under an awning. A welcome mat lay on the floor at the door, which was closed. Spread all around on the deck were twelve slices of pizza. Almost at the door was a pizza box, laying open. Some insect flew by my head, then flew off. >take pizza (putting the pack of Vance peanut butter crackers into the green backpack to make room) I tossed the pack of Vance peanut butter crackers into the backpack. I bent over and gathered up all of the pieces. I could hardly wait to eat. >eat pizza How about I bring it into the kitchen? I didn't frickin' eat just anywhere. >s (first opening the white front door) It seemed to be locked. >unlock door I selected the house key from my keyring. I unlocked the front door with my key. >s (first opening the white front door) I pushed open the door to the house, and my nose was immediately assaulted with whatever cinnamon air freshener crap my mom used. I stepped back into the house. Small Living Room As I said, the place was small. But it was cozy. Definitely good enough for Mom and Dad. It had central heating and air. Before me was all the usual living room stuff--a sofa, Dad's chair, TV set. No windows in here. Dad didn't like the idea of people lookin' in. Our kitchen was to the west; to the east was Mom and Dad's bedroom. The front door, which was hanging open, led back onto the deck to the north. I felt like I was going to pass out and die of starvation. >w Kitchenette All you need in a kitchen was here--fridge, oven, small table, pantry and sink. Unless you want a friggin' microwave. You'd have to go next door; we hate that shit. The one telephone in the trailer was on the north wall near the pantry. Next to that was the window over the sink. West was my Mom's project room (my old room); east was back to the living room. On the small table were a burnt pizza and Mom's note. >eat pizza (the supreme pizza) I was so friggin' hungry, I scarfed down the entire pizza, right there at the table. I sat there, with a friggin' full stomach, thinking about what I was going to do with my week. And the things I did for Will. And Liz. Strangely, thinking about Liz got me to thinking about Anne. And the inevitable reality that Anne and I could never truly be a couple. Just as I was having those thoughts, the phone rang. I thought maybe it was Will; now that I was fed, I was feeling pretty charitable as I picked up the phone. "Hello," I said. Please press SPACE to continue. "Tom?" Anne's voice. "Tom?" "Anne! Hey, what's up? I was going to see if you were available." I was excited. "Yes, well Tom, that's what I wanted to talk to you about." Her tone got a bit hesitant. Like she had some bad news. Please press SPACE to continue. "Tom, I'm leaving. Moving. Oh gosh, it hurts to tell you this. Believe me, it would have been so hard to tell you in person, so I had to tell you now." I couldn't believe what I was hearing. I honestly didn't know what to fuckin' say, so I let her talk more. She swallowed, then continued. "So I'm leaving tomorrow morning. Early." At a freakin' loss for something to say, I said, "So where are you going? To that new house you were looking at down the street?" "No," she said, "To California." Please press SPACE to continue. I was even more frickin' stunned. I never saw this shit coming. So I just had to ask. "Why?" I said, weakly. "Tom, you have to understand, I need a new beginning in my life. Don't get me wrong, I LOVE you. And I will never stop having feelings for you." All of that was totally lost on me. You don't leave the people you love. Through the sting of what I totally knew was being DUMPED, I asked, "So can I visit you? Can I call you?" Please press SPACE to continue. There was another long pause, which kind of told me that something even more painful was coming. "No, Tom. I cannot let you call me, or visit. Now I'm going to be honest with you. I am very sorry about all this. Tom, it is so painful to tell you this. But I'm getting married." Oh shit. I let slip my next question, "Who? One of your clients?" Another pause. "Now, Tom, don't get that way." "Oh, you're right, what's the fuckin' point, anyway? We were never going to be together. Plus, obviously I wasn't important enough to you to let me know that there was another friggin' guy...? And that you had big plans...?" She was silent. Please press SPACE to continue. "You might as well have not called me. I would have shown up at your place tomorrow, while there would be no one there. That would have been friggin' easier, wouldn't it?" I was so unbelievably pissed. "I would have been better off not knowing." I thought I could hear sobs in the background. Then I started feeling sorry for HER. When the sobs slowed, she continued, hesitantly. "Tom, none of this was easy. And you're right, we would never have been together. Plus, I'm NOT getting any younger. I can't do this, ah, thing, forever. And please don't stay angry, or feel sorry for yourself. It had nothing to do with you. There is nothing 'wrong' with you, and I'm not doing this because of you." Please press SPACE to continue. "Tom, you need a real relationship. You deserve it. Not a weekend thing with an older woman who does what I do--did--for a living. So you're better off without me, at this stage of your life." I just kept listening. Perhaps she was right. But I was still incredibly pissed. "Anne, you know something, you're right. I am better off without you. I'm better off without seeing some WHORE, who only wants me as a stepping stone and object of her young guy fantasies, till she can find some RICH GUY lonely enough to want to MARRY her!" I slammed the phone back up on its cradle. Please press SPACE to continue. The truth hurts. And it went both ways. I was right on all counts, but so was she. And it felt totally like shit. I should have seen it coming, a long way off. Now I'm at the wrong end of a friggin' Breakfast At Tiffany's ripoff re-make. Please press SPACE to continue. And what a fuckin' way to start my Spring Break. My friend gets rejected, by a possibly decent girl whom I rejected. Then I get dumped by someone who wasn't even my girlfriend to begin with. And if you were expecting some hot porn action tonight, I am sorry to disappoint you. Whoops, now you feel rejected. Well, maybe you can watch me when I get out my porn mag later. Please press SPACE to continue. Sike. Yes I did go to my bungalo, spent the night pickin' out tunes on my guitar, listened to my stereo, and watched the night fall outside my window. Laid awake thinking about Anne, the phone call, the times we spent together. The snacks she often made for me, the delicacies she often shared, the stories of travel and parties and hotels. The advice she gave to me--and I often ignored. The many times she actually DID suggest the possibility that I would date, and marry, someone more fit for me. Of course I brushed it off. Please press SPACE to continue. Didn't even touch my mag. I didn't feel like it. I was angry, upset and depressed. But I knew that this moment in my life was coming. I picked myself to sleep that night, my friggin' guitar in my arms. My only true mate. Please press SPACE to continue. Zzzzzzzz.... Please press SPACE to continue. My Place (on the steel bed) Yep. My digs. Not too cavernous or shit, probably about as big as half a motel room. And everything within reach of the bed. Window on the south wall. My bed took up the east half of the room, my stereo set and closet, with a closed metal door, on the west side. You might have thought I put posters and crap on my walls, well I don't need shit like that. Rather against my wishes, my dad rigged up a telephone in here, fortunately a land line. I hate wireless. Oh, no john in here. I had to use the can in the house. Fuckin' bummer. And no clock. I didn't observe time out here. Mom would call me on my phone to wake me up mornings. Though it was night, light came in through the window, from an outside light set up on the eaves over it. It was handy and never disturbed my sleep. I jolted up awake. Not sure why. But I found that my feelings had settled a bit and thought about how fuckin' hurtful I was to Anne, how she was right and was trying to put things right with her life. And how her leaving was doing me a favor. And how I wanted to see her just one more time. To at least apologize for my friggin' outburst. Of course I couldn't call her. She never gave me her number. I thought maybe I could walk over to her place. She said she would be leaving early in the morning--surely she would be up packing...?? With no time to see clients...? So her door might just be open. [And sorry, no score increase for getting dumped. Bummer.] >save Ok. >open window It seemed to be locked. >unlock it I unlocked the window. >s (first getting off the steel bed) I got up from my bed. (first opening the square window) I pulled open my window, letting some nice fresh air into my bungalo. The window being reasonably low, I was able to grab the windowsill and throw a leg over it, then hop out with the other leg, landing on the ground. Behind Bungalo One advantage of having my bungalo up against the sticks: no one could see me going out the back window, and I love the woodsy smells. One disadvantage: the trees were thick as hell, and at night sometimes I needed a light source to navigate with. It's fine during the day, but dark at night. A path to the south took me to Anne's place; the window to my digs was to the north. I could see for a short distance out here, because of the outside light set up on the eaves over my window. >n Getting back in was trickier, because the window was higher above the ground than it was above the floor inside. I had to make a running jump, vaulting over the windowsill. The place shook as I hit the floor. I always hoped I didn't make too much damn noise. My Place Yep. My digs. Not too cavernous or shit, probably about as big as half a motel room. And everything within reach of the bed. Window on the south wall, which is open. My bed took up the east half of the room, my stereo set and closet, with a closed metal door, on the west side. You might have thought I put posters and crap on my walls, well I don't need shit like that. Rather against my wishes, my dad rigged up a telephone in here, fortunately a land line. I hate wireless. Oh, no john in here. I had to use the can in the house. Fuckin' bummer. And no clock. I didn't observe time out here. Mom would call me on my phone to wake me up mornings. Though it was night, light came in through the window, from an outside light set up on the eaves over it. It was handy and never disturbed my sleep. >i I was carrying: my acoustic guitar a receipt an oven glove a credit card a flashlight a green backpack (open) a pack of Vance peanut butter crackers my ripped notebook my green pencil Will's note my keyring my house key my locker key my usual threads (being worn) My pocket was empty. >s I hopped out the window again. Behind Bungalo One advantage of having my bungalo up against the sticks: no one could see me going out the back window, and I love the woodsy smells. One disadvantage: the trees were thick as hell, and at night sometimes I needed a light source to navigate with. It's fine during the day, but dark at night. A path to the south took me to Anne's place; the window to my digs was to the north. I could see for a short distance out here, because of the outside light set up on the eaves over my window. >s It would have helped to have the flashlight turned on. >turn on flashlight I clicked the flashlight on. >s This is the trail I normally took on Friday nights to go to Anne's place. It was dark; good thing I brought my flashlight. I picked my way along the trail, using my flashlight; it was familiar to me, even at night. It zig-zagged all the way to Anne's place. I saw the back of her house, between some trees. Her red watering bucket, which was normally her signal that she was busy with a client, was not posted on top of her porch steps. For me, that meant, "Come on in!" Did she want me to come see her, one last time? I felt more eager to wish her well, and forget about my anger and depression, at least for the night. I stepped carefully through her back garden and up her porch. Anne's Back Porch Spacious and highly decorated, with hanging plants and bird feeders. Steps led down to a path that went through her garden and ultimately to my place. A couple of chase lounges sat out here, astride her back door. A freakin' spooky feeling came over me as I approached her door. Though her red watering can was nowhere around. >s I wasn't about to just walk into the house without knocking. That would be fuckin' rude! >knock door I finally got my nerve up to knock on the door. After about the third knock, I heard a click and the door swung partially open. What the...?? >z Time passed. >open door That was already open. >s I hesitated. Anne would be furious with me if I just stepped in and she had a client. But I doubted that the place would be so quiet if she did, plus her watering can was not posted. What if she was asleep? I almost closed the door, but was stopped by a friggin' ominous feeling that something was wrong. Finally, I stepped across the threshold, into her utility area. I called out, "Anne? Anne!" No answer. Laundry Room Anne's washing machine and dryer were here, under a shelving unit that had her cleaning supplies. The lid to the washing machine was standing open. A doorway led into the pantry to the west, another one into the kitchen to the east. The back door, standing open, was to the north. >x washing Just your average washer. The lid was pulled up open. >search it Though there was nothing in it, it felt a bit wet, as if it had been used recently. >x dryer Your average dryer. It has a door on the front, which is closed. >open it I pulled open the door of the machine, and warm air wafted out, hitting me in the face. The door felt pretty warm, too. Inside, there was a load of clothes. Is Anne in the house? >take clothes (the usual threads) I was already carrying that. >search dryer In the dryer were some dry clothes. >take dry clothes The clothes felt very warm and dry, as if the dryer had been running and just stopped a little while ago. I left them in the machine, out of respect for the owner. >w Pantry There was nothing on the shelves, here; not a single can. Anne wasn't kidding when she said she was moving. The only exit was east, into the laundry room. >e Laundry Room Anne's washing machine and dryer were here, under a shelving unit that had her cleaning supplies. The lid to the washing machine was standing open. A doorway led into the pantry to the west, another one into the kitchen to the east. The back door, standing open, was to the north. >e Anne's Kitchen This was a neat little kitchen with a food prep island in the middle of it. Now it looked so empty. All the utensils gone, no pots or pans anywhere. A refrigerator and oven occupied the south side; to the north was the sink and a window, now dark, looked out on the garden. The dining room was to the east; to the west was the utility room with the back door. >open fridge I pulled both doors open--absolutely nothing in there. Not even a body. I slammed it closed. >x oven (the oven glove) One of my Mom's oven mitts. Good for handling hot shit. Besides, it was nice, thick and comfortable. >e As I stepped out of the kitchen, I called out Anne's name again a couple of times. Still got no answer. Dining Room It was a very elegant, posh dining room, though small. Often we would have an overnight snack in here. But the decorations were gone, as was the table and chairs. It was like Anne had already picked up and left. The only signs of previous occupation were the marks that the furniture left in the carpet. The doorway to her sitting room was to the south. The way back to the kitchen was west. >x marks I couldn't see any such thing. >x carpet I couldn't see any such thing. >s As I walked into Anne's spacious front sitting room, I called her name out again. "Anne! Are you here??" Got no answer. I was beginning to think that something friggin' wrong was going down. Or that I had seriously fucked up and she was asleep upstairs. And if I didn't high-tail it the fuck out of there, I would be an intruder. But something told me to keep looking, so I did.... Sitting Room Anne and I had many talks in this room, where she entertained her clients. She practically psycho-analyzed me in here. But now, all the furniture, the decorations, the bookshelves were gone. She must have hired a fast moving crew. It still had that feeling of class, elegance. But like the dining room, only indentations were left in the carpet remained. A large window looked out the front of the house; it was dark. The front door was in the foyer, to the west. The doorway to the dining room was to the north. >w Foyer A nice little anteroom with Anne's huge panelled front door to the south; the door was closed. To the east was her sitting room; west was the game room. A stairway led up to the second floor. >w I stepped into the game room; Anne wasn't there, either. Game Room Anne's pool table had been here. A dart board had been on the wall. She also had a pinball machine. But all of that was moved out. Anne was a pool shark and she would sometimes entertain her guests with a game. And relieve them of their extra money. I'd just come in here and play pool with her, just to watch her maneuver around the table and aim. That kept my cue straight; but my balls never dropped. I sucked at pool. Now it was just an empty room. I felt oddly calustrophobic, with the bare walls and unoccupied floor. To the west was the door to the downstairs bathroom; it was closed. The doorway into the foyer was east. >w (first opening the small door) I opened the door and looked into the bathroom. No one there. Small Bathroom All the usual stuff was here, except a bathtub. Toilet, sink, and mirror. Mainly a primp area for the guests. The door was to the east. >e Game Room Anne's pool table had been here. A dart board had been on the wall. She also had a pinball machine. But all of that was moved out. Anne was a pool shark and she would sometimes entertain her guests with a game. And relieve them of their extra money. I'd just come in here and play pool with her, just to watch her maneuver around the table and aim. That kept my cue straight; but my balls never dropped. I sucked at pool. Now it was just an empty room. I felt oddly calustrophobic, with the bare walls and unoccupied floor. To the west was the door to the downstairs bathroom; it was open. The doorway into the foyer was east. >e Foyer A nice little anteroom with Anne's huge panelled front door to the south; the door was closed. To the east was her sitting room; west was the game room. A stairway led up to the second floor. >u I ran up the stairs, shining my flashlight at the door up ahead, calling her name. "Anne! Anne are you up there?!" Still no answer. Now I was really starting to get worried. Landing This was a hallway that joined three rooms. A small door to the north led into the main bathroom; a narrow door to the east was the door to her private bedroom; and a broad door to the west was the door to what I called her 'client room'. The stairway went down from here. >n (first opening the bathroom door) I opened the door and looked into the bathroom. No one there. Elegant Bathroom Very spacious, and the walls were covered with streaked black marble. A large sink area with a mirror was on the east wall and next to a closed alcove that contained the toilet. An open shower area was on the west wall. Under the window on the north wall was a tub set into the black-tiled floor. It was truly a luxurious bathing area. But all of Anne's stuff had been cleared out of it; there was nothing on the sink top or near the tub. Not even a bar of soap. The door was to the south. >s Landing This was a hallway that joined three rooms. A small door to the north, which was open, led into the main bathroom; a narrow door to the east was the door to her private bedroom; and a broad door to the west was the door to what I called her 'client room'. The stairway went down from here. >e (first opening the narrow door) I was very reluctant to try this room at the moment. Probably because it was so special to me, Anne's private bedroom. I felt like I needed to check some other places, first; as much as I hated to, maybe I should look into her 'client' room to the west; I wanted to look out front, to see if her car was parked in the driveway. Just to be thorough. >w (first opening the broad door) I hesitated before I opened the door. I had never been in this room before. Anne never let me go into this room. It was like she was 'protecting' me from what she did for a living. But I felt like circumstances were frickin' extenuating enough for me to try it. I opened the door into the room. And she wasn't there. Large Bedroom This room was huge. I had no idea what had been in it. Whatever it was, it was moved out already. Anne never let me go into this room, as it was where she 'did her thing'. I imagine there were a few settees, probably a huge double-bed. Maybe an entertainment center. Who the hell knows? There were probably also curtains to cover up the large windows that occupied the north wall. The windows were now exposed, and dark. The door back out was to the east. >x window I imagine you could see through the trees to the north, and some of the sky, during the day, like through her bathroom window next door. But now they were dark. >look through window I imagine you could see through the trees to the north, and some of the sky, during the day, like through her bathroom window next door. But now they were dark. >e Landing This was a hallway that joined three rooms. A small door to the north, which was open, led into the main bathroom; a narrow door to the east was the door to her private bedroom; and a broad door to the west, open, was the door to what I called her 'client room'. The stairway went down from here. >e (first opening the narrow door) I was very reluctant to try this room at the moment. Probably because it was so special to me, Anne's private bedroom. I felt like I needed to check some other places, first; I wanted to look out front, to see if her car was parked in the driveway. Just to be thorough. >d Foyer A nice little anteroom with Anne's huge panelled front door to the south; the door was closed. To the east was her sitting room; west was the game room. A stairway led up to the second floor. >s (first opening the huge front door) It seemed to be locked. >unlock door I twisted the turnbutton and was about to pull the bolt, when I saw that it was already pulled...? Anne always used the bolt; did she forget tonight? The door was fully unlocked. >open it I opened the huge front door. >s I stepped out the front door. I kept silent because I didn't want to be heard calling her name. As I shined my flashlight around, I immediately noticed that Anne's car, a rather modest-looking sports car, was still in the frickin' driveway! Front Lawn I never ventured far from her front porch; nighttime was no fuckin' exception. Trees were all around, and there were no street lights. This porch was as long and wide as her back porch. A dirt driveway led out to the main road, going south. North was the door leading back in. Anne's sports car sat in the driveway. >x car I thought it was hot-looking, it was well-used, reliable and in otherwise good shape. Though I never rode in it. It was painted black. >open it I never dared to touch Anne's car, except for now, and it was stone cold. I left it alone otherwise. >search it I shined my flashlight on and all around it. There was nothing unusual in the car, or on it. And it didn't show any signs of tampering, under it, that I could see. >look under it I shined my flashlight on and all around it. There was nothing unusual in the car, or on it. And it didn't show any signs of tampering, under it, that I could see. >n Foyer A nice little anteroom with Anne's huge panelled front door to the south; the door was hanging open. To the east was her sitting room; west was the game room. A stairway led up to the second floor. >u Landing This was a hallway that joined three rooms. A small door to the north, which was open, led into the main bathroom; a narrow door to the east was the door to her private bedroom; and a broad door to the west, open, was the door to what I called her 'client room'. The stairway went down from here. >e (first opening the narrow door) I hesitated before I opened the door, both afraid and hopeful that Anne might actually be in there, snoring away. Afraid because this whole intrusion into her house might be my biggest fuck-up; hopeful because at least I would know that she was not in danger. I eased the door open. When I heard nothing, I shined my flashlight into the room, and walked in. Anne wasn't there, either! The room was empty, with only a cot and a chair. Private Bedroom This room had a special place in my heart, for reasons that I won't friggin' go into. Let's just say that it was something very important that every young dude my age never forgets. But needless to say, her bed was gone; so was the vanity table with her mirror and beauty items. Even so, the room was much more cozy and comfortable than that larger bedroom where she ... well.... A cot was placed under a single window on the east wall, where the bed used to be; it was covered with a thick comforter and a large pillow. Next to the cot was the only other piece of furniture: a small chair, on which was placed her pink telephone. Probably the limit of what she could carry in her car. In the east wall was her closet, which was closed. The door to the hallway was to the west. >open closet I pulled open the closet doors, and found Anne's circular hanging rack. It usually held about a hundred dresses--now it was empty. I guess she saw no need for it. Correction: it was empty, except for a single wire hanger. I plucked it off; somehow I felt that I needed it for something. >i I was carrying: a wire hanger my acoustic guitar a receipt an oven glove a credit card a flashlight (providing light) a green backpack (open) a pack of Vance peanut butter crackers my ripped notebook my green pencil Will's note my keyring my house key my locker key my usual threads (being worn) My pocket was empty. >x chair Just the folding kind, and it had her pink telephone on it. >x telephone It was her pink, touch-tone phone. >take it It wasn't ringing. >call me I wasn't on 'ludes. I said no to drugs a long time ago. >call home I couldn't remember a number worth shit, plus I'd prefer to know who I am calling. [Just type CALL (someone known) --no need to type a number.] >call will I had already called William's ass enough. I wanted to get on with my evening. >call liz I don't even have her number. She's probably not even home, anyway. >x cot It was your basic wood-frame cot that you could fold up and take camping. It was now covered with a comforter and a pillow. But it was neatly made-up, as if Anne had not yet slept on it. Though the pillow seemed a bit off-kilter. >take pillow I picked up the pillow, and felt something flat and hard on the underside of it. I reached in, and pulled out a strange looking notebook! I put the pillow back down and straightened it. That's exactly what I did! I found Anne's diary. You earned 10 points for helping me remember! >read diary I couldn't see any such thing. >i I was carrying: a strange notebook a wire hanger my acoustic guitar a receipt an oven glove a credit card a flashlight (providing light) a green backpack (open) a pack of Vance peanut butter crackers my ripped notebook my green pencil Will's note my keyring my house key my locker key my usual threads (being worn) My pocket was empty. >read strange Which do you mean, a strange notebook or Will's note? >notebook It was unmarked on the front. And it was thick. Out of respect for Anne, I did not try to read it. But I did flip through it. Lots and lots of writing. I expected to see names and numbers, and I did, near the back! I closed it, preferring to read no more. I've got enough pain to deal with. >l Private Bedroom This room had a special place in my heart, for reasons that I won't friggin' go into. Let's just say that it was something very important that every young dude my age never forgets. But needless to say, her bed was gone; so was the vanity table with her mirror and beauty items. Even so, the room was much more cozy and comfortable than that larger bedroom where she ... well.... A cot was placed under a single window on the east wall, where the bed used to be; it was covered with a thick comforter and a large pillow. Next to the cot was the only other piece of furniture: a small chair, on which was placed her pink telephone. Probably the limit of what she could carry in her car. In the east wall was her closet, which was open, and I could see the rack on which she once hung hundreds of dresses; it was empty. The door to the hallway was to the west. >enter cot As I wasn't tired, I just sat down on the cot. I didn't want to mess up her bedding. >look under cot There was absolutely nothing under there. >move cot I wasn't here to rearrange her furniture. >move chair I wasn't about to lug that thing around. >l Private Bedroom (on the cot) This room had a special place in my heart, for reasons that I won't friggin' go into. Let's just say that it was something very important that every young dude my age never forgets. But needless to say, her bed was gone; so was the vanity table with her mirror and beauty items. Even so, the room was much more cozy and comfortable than that larger bedroom where she ... well.... A cot was placed under a single window on the east wall, where the bed used to be; it was covered with a thick comforter and a large pillow. Next to the cot was the only other piece of furniture: a small chair, on which was placed her pink telephone. Probably the limit of what she could carry in her car. In the east wall was her closet, which was open, and I could see the rack on which she once hung hundreds of dresses; it was empty. The door to the hallway was to the west. >w (first getting off the cot) Landing This was a hallway that joined three rooms. A small door to the north, which was open, led into the main bathroom; a narrow door to the east, which was open, was the door to her private bedroom; and a broad door to the west, open, was the door to what I called her 'client room'. The stairway went down from here. As soon as I had stepped out of the room, I heard the phone in her bedroom ring. I suddenly got a really friggin' creepy feeling about it. I wanted to run, but at the same time I felt like it had something to do with Anne, and I was really concerned about her. So I stood there and thought about it. I heard the phone ring again. >e Private Bedroom This room had a special place in my heart, for reasons that I won't friggin' go into. Let's just say that it was something very important that every young dude my age never forgets. But needless to say, her bed was gone; so was the vanity table with her mirror and beauty items. Even so, the room was much more cozy and comfortable than that larger bedroom where she ... well.... A cot was placed under a single window on the east wall, where the bed used to be; it was covered with a thick comforter and a large pillow. Next to the cot was the only other piece of furniture: a small chair, on which was placed her pink telephone. Probably the limit of what she could carry in her car. In the east wall was her closet, which was open, and I could see the rack on which she once hung hundreds of dresses; it was empty. The door to the hallway was to the west. There was a dead silence as I considered answering the phone. >answer phone I hesitantly picked up the phone, putting it to my ear. "Hell-o, Tom!" said an unfamiliar raspy voice, followed by a laugh. "I've got your little girlfriend! HA HA!" My fear was soon replaced by anger. "You let her go, you stupid fucking prick! Whoever you are!" The voice took a mockingly soothing tone. "Oooh, Tom, calm down. Cool your little feet. All is not lost. You just have to do me one little favor. Are you, like, 'down with it', like all your little friends like to say?" I didn't say a word, I was so scared and angry. "Okay. I take that as a 'yes'. I've been watching you, Tom. I know where you are." Please press SPACE to continue. He continued his rasping. "Your WHORE has a notebook. A very special one. I WANT IT. And when you find it, I want you to bring it to me. I want you to bring it ... ah ... over to the high school. Yes. Horace Lamb. But I won't be right out fucking front! You're going to have to find me. Somewhere on the campus. If it takes ALL FUCKING NIGHT!" More laughing. "Hope you can get in!" More chortling. I felt like slamming down the phone, but I wasn't going to do it if Anne was in danger. Please press SPACE to continue. "And before you try to figure out who the FUCK I am, remember, thousands of students have been through those halls. I could be one. Or NOT! I could be your best fucking friend, that stupid Will. Yes, I know you. But you don't know ME!" More senseless, crazy mirth. Please press SPACE to continue. He continued his nonsense. "OR, I could be one of her MANY clients, who spotted you sneaking into her WHOREHOUSE one day! You will NEVER KNOW! HA HA!" Please press SPACE to continue. His voice softened again. "What's wrong, Tom? You seem awfully quiet?" I blurted out, "Because I have nothing to FUCKING SAY TO YOU, YOU CREEPY PIECE OF SHIT!" "Oh, Tom, did I hurt your feelings?" he said, in that stupid soft voice. Then his voice hardened again. "Bring me that notebook. Bring it to me before sunrise. If I don't get it, SHE 'gets it'. And you know what I fucking mean. And if you try to involve the police, or anyone else, SAME THING! Do you 'get' ME?!" Please press SPACE to continue. After a pause he said, in a shrill voice, "And, I've got another little surprise for you when you find me! But you'll have to FIND ME, first! HA HA!" Without waiting for an answer, there was a click, and a moment later I heard tires squealing somewhere nearby. I put down the phone and looked out the window. But I couldn't see any smoke or anything. Please press SPACE to continue. I felt that I had no choice. I didn't want to call the police, for fear it might cost Anne her life. I had to bring this notebook to that creep. And I had to figure out how to find him once I got to the school. Please press SPACE to continue. Going back to school during Spring Break was so not in my plans. Private Bedroom This room had a special place in my heart, for reasons that I won't friggin' go into. Let's just say that it was something very important that every young dude my age never forgets. But needless to say, her bed was gone; so was the vanity table with her mirror and beauty items. Even so, the room was much more cozy and comfortable than that larger bedroom where she ... well.... A cot was placed under a single window on the east wall, where the bed used to be; it was covered with a thick comforter and a large pillow. Next to the cot was the only other piece of furniture: a small chair, on which was placed her pink telephone. Probably the limit of what she could carry in her car. In the east wall was her closet, which was open, and I could see the rack on which she once hung hundreds of dresses; it was empty. The door to the hallway was to the west. >save Ok. >w Landing This was a hallway that joined three rooms. A small door to the north, which was open, led into the main bathroom; a narrow door to the east, which was open, was the door to her private bedroom; and a broad door to the west, open, was the door to what I called her 'client room'. The stairway went down from here. >d Foyer A nice little anteroom with Anne's huge panelled front door to the south; the door was hanging open. To the east was her sitting room; west was the game room. A stairway led up to the second floor. >s Front Lawn I never ventured far from her front porch; nighttime was no fuckin' exception. Trees were all around, and there were no street lights. This porch was as long and wide as her back porch. A dirt driveway led out to the main road, going south. North was the door leading back in. Anne's sports car sat in the driveway. >enter ca I couldn't see any such thing. >enter car I never dared to touch Anne's car, except for now, and it was stone cold. I left it alone otherwise. >n Foyer A nice little anteroom with Anne's huge panelled front door to the south; the door was hanging open. To the east was her sitting room; west was the game room. A stairway led up to the second floor. >e Sitting Room Anne and I had many talks in this room, where she entertained her clients. She practically psycho-analyzed me in here. But now, all the furniture, the decorations, the bookshelves were gone. She must have hired a fast moving crew. It still had that feeling of class, elegance. But like the dining room, only indentations were left in the carpet remained. A large window looked out the front of the house; it was dark. The front door was in the foyer, to the west. The doorway to the dining room was to the north. >n Dining Room It was a very elegant, posh dining room, though small. Often we would have an overnight snack in here. But the decorations were gone, as was the table and chairs. It was like Anne had already picked up and left. The only signs of previous occupation were the marks that the furniture left in the carpet. The doorway to her sitting room was to the south. The way back to the kitchen was west. >w Anne's Kitchen This was a neat little kitchen with a food prep island in the middle of it. Now it looked so empty. All the utensils gone, no pots or pans anywhere. A refrigerator and oven occupied the south side; to the north was the sink and a window, now dark, looked out on the garden. The dining room was to the east; to the west was the utility room with the back door. >w Laundry Room Anne's washing machine and dryer were here, under a shelving unit that had her cleaning supplies. The lid to the washing machine was standing open. A doorway led into the pantry to the west, another one into the kitchen to the east. The back door, standing open, was to the north. >n Anne's Back Porch Spacious and highly decorated, with hanging plants and bird feeders. Steps led down to a path that went through her garden and ultimately to my place. A couple of chase lounges sat out here, astride her back door. >nw I walked back through the woods to our back yard. Back Yard In the dim light from a nearby streetlight, I could see my bungalo. Good thing it was painted white. The door, to the south, had a single cinderblock step going up to it. It gave me a sense of 'getting off the ground', which I sort of liked. To the southeast, behind my shed, was the 'secret' trail through the trees that I often took to Anne's place. Northeast was the way I got here. >ne I stepped back out front of the house. My Front Yard Russel Street, from the west, ended just east of here, running into Virgil Road, which runs north-south. The front of my parents' house sported a number of awesome old trees, a large front deck, and an empty gravel driveway. Apparently, Mom and Dad took off early, and took both vehicles. My mom's flower beds occupied the space to either side of the deck. The steps up the deck were to the south; southwest was the trail around the house to my shack out back. Our rickety mailbox stood at the end of the driveway. Though it was night, I could see around me, given the streetlights that had come on at nightfall. >sw I took my little trail around the back of the house, to my one special place. Back Yard In the dim light from a nearby streetlight, I could see my bungalo. Good thing it was painted white. The door, to the south, had a single cinderblock step going up to it. It gave me a sense of 'getting off the ground', which I sort of liked. To the southeast, behind my shed, was the 'secret' trail through the trees that I often took to Anne's place. Northeast was the way I got here. >s (first opening the metal door) It seemed to be locked. >unlock door I selected the house key from my keyring. I unlocked my door with my key. >s (first opening the metal door) I swung open my door to freedom. I stepped into my bungalo. My Place Yep. My digs. Not too cavernous or shit, probably about as big as half a motel room. And everything within reach of the bed. Window on the south wall, which is open. My bed took up the east half of the room, my stereo set and closet, with a closed metal door, on the west side. You might have thought I put posters and crap on my walls, well I don't need shit like that. Rather against my wishes, my dad rigged up a telephone in here, fortunately a land line. I hate wireless. Oh, no john in here. I had to use the can in the house. Fuckin' bummer. And no clock. I didn't observe time out here. Mom would call me on my phone to wake me up mornings. Though it was night, light came in through the window, from an outside light set up on the eaves over it. It was handy and never disturbed my sleep. >call will I probably shouldn't involve anyone else in this. Plus, Anne needs me more than Will does. Let him get his own shit together tonight. >n I stepped out the door, and back into friggin' reality. Back Yard In the dim light from a nearby streetlight, I could see my bungalo. Good thing it was painted white. The door, to the south, had a single cinderblock step going up to it. It gave me a sense of 'getting off the ground', which I sort of liked. To the southeast, behind my shed, was the 'secret' trail through the trees that I often took to Anne's place. Northeast was the way I got here. >nw I had no interest in wandering into the yards of my neighbors. >ne I stepped back out front of the house. My Front Yard Russel Street, from the west, ended just east of here, running into Virgil Road, which runs north-south. The front of my parents' house sported a number of awesome old trees, a large front deck, and an empty gravel driveway. Apparently, Mom and Dad took off early, and took both vehicles. My mom's flower beds occupied the space to either side of the deck. The steps up the deck were to the south; southwest was the trail around the house to my shack out back. Our rickety mailbox stood at the end of the driveway. Though it was night, I could see around me, given the streetlights that had come on at nightfall. >e I saw no need to go out on Virgil Street at that time of night. >w Broad Field Here, the road went through a field of grass, leading east to the residential area which contained my parents' house and my bungalo. West, it led back to the school. To either side of the road was a large ditch. Streetlights guided me either way. >w I approached the school, still without a clue how to get back on the campus, much less find that jerk. Russel Street Lamb High sure looked different at night from during the day; the streetlights seemed to highlight the front fence and the gate, which did not blend in so well with the background school pavement as it had during the day. I could see the padlocked gate to the south--no hope of getting in through there. The fence stretched further west, along the road. East was the way back home. As I walked up, a torn piece of paper, which was stuck to the gate, blew off and landed at my feet. >take paper (the torn note) (putting the keyring into the green backpack to make room) I tossed the keyring into the backpack. My hands were already friggin' full. >read it Hoping that this might be some clue about where the hell this creep was keeping Anne, I gave it a look. In blue ballpoint pen ink, and tall, child-like letters, it said-- PIZZA MAN MEET ME AT THE NEXT GATE--->(pointing, I guessed, to the west.) Was this a friggin' code, or was this really just an instruction to the pizza man? I DID want to see how I could get onto the campus. >w Interesting the things you notice at night. Like how friggin' different your own school looks. As I walked along the fence I noticed another gate leading onto the campus. >s (first opening the single gate) It seemed to be locked. >unlock gate >s (first opening the single gate) It seemed to be locked. >climb gate After the gate, I'd have about ten more feet of fence to climb. And I didn't want a police car to see me doing it. >x gate Like the main gate, this gate had an enormous padlock on it, on the other side. So no such luck picking it. >w My current business was at the school; besides, I didn't see anyone further down the road waiting for me. >s (first opening the single gate) It seemed to be locked. >l Lonely Gate A single gate, about as tall as me, was set into the fence to the south here. I noticed that this part of the fence was behind the two-story field house of my school's military training program, and outdoor equipment courses. Even in the streetlight, however, the building was entirely in shadow. The tree-lined road continued west, past the rollup door to the Auto Shop garage; the main gate to the school was east from here. >l Lonely Gate A single gate, about as tall as me, was set into the fence to the south here. I noticed that this part of the fence was behind the two-story field house of my school's military training program, and outdoor equipment courses. Even in the streetlight, however, the building was entirely in shadow. The tree-lined road continued west, past the rollup door to the Auto Shop garage; the main gate to the school was east from here. >e Russel Street Lamb High sure looked different at night from during the day; the streetlights seemed to highlight the front fence and the gate, which did not blend in so well with the background school pavement as it had during the day. I could see the padlocked gate to the south--no hope of getting in through there. The fence stretched further west, along the road. East was the way back home. A torn piece of paper was on the ground in front of the gate. >read torn In blue ballpoint pen ink, and tall, child-like letters, it said-- PIZZA MAN MEET ME AT THE NEXT GATE--->(pointing, I guessed, to the west.) >take torn (putting Will's note into the green backpack to make room) I tossed Will's note into the backpack. Got it. >s The gate was locked. >w I walked back along the fence to the other gate. >x gate Like the main gate, this gate had an enormous padlock on it, on the other side. So no such luck picking it. >knock gate I wasn't going to draw attention to my presence. There has got to be a way to get in. >i I was carrying: a torn note Anne's diary a wire hanger my acoustic guitar a receipt an oven glove a credit card a flashlight (providing light) a green backpack (open) Will's note my keyring my house key my locker key a pack of Vance peanut butter crackers my ripped notebook my green pencil my usual threads (being worn) My pocket was empty. >x hanger Just a plain wire hanger. I was surprised that not all of her hangers were wood. >unwind hanger That's not a verb I recognize. >open hanger It wasn't something I could open. >bend it But I never UNtwisted it! >untwist it I untwisted the wire hanger, turning it into a long piece of wire. It might come in handy like that. >pick lock with hanger I couldn't see any such thing. >i I was carrying: a torn note Anne's diary a wire hanger, untwisted into a long wire my acoustic guitar a receipt an oven glove a credit card a flashlight (providing light) a green backpack (open) Will's note my keyring my house key my locker key a pack of Vance peanut butter crackers my ripped notebook my green pencil my usual threads (being worn) My pocket was empty. >x padlock Like the main gate, this gate had an enormous padlock on it, on the other side. So no such luck picking it. >e Russel Street Lamb High sure looked different at night from during the day; the streetlights seemed to highlight the front fence and the gate, which did not blend in so well with the background school pavement as it had during the day. I could see the padlocked gate to the south--no hope of getting in through there. The fence stretched further west, along the road. East was the way back home. >e I walked east along the fence, past the rancid-smelling cafeteria back area, and then the trees, until they ended at a field, where the only feature was a ditch to either side of the road... Broad Field Here, the road went through a field of grass, leading east to the residential area which contained my parents' house and my bungalo. West, it led back to the school. To either side of the road was a large ditch. Streetlights guided me either way. >e I walked east back home. Again. My Front Yard Russel Street, from the west, ended just east of here, running into Virgil Road, which runs north-south. The front of my parents' house sported a number of awesome old trees, a large front deck, and an empty gravel driveway. Apparently, Mom and Dad took off early, and took both vehicles. My mom's flower beds occupied the space to either side of the deck. The steps up the deck were to the south; southwest was the trail around the house to my shack out back. Our rickety mailbox stood at the end of the driveway. Though it was night, I could see around me, given the streetlights that had come on at nightfall. >s I stepped up onto the deck of the house. On The Deck I was on my parents' front deck, and it was lit softly by light from streetlights which lined the road out front. The wood railing and nearly every spot on the deck was occupied by my Mom's colorful potted plants. Their deck chairs sat here astride the front door to the south, under an awning. A welcome mat lay on the floor at the door, which was closed. Almost at the door was a pizza box, laying open. >take pizza box (putting the credit card into the green backpack to make room) I tossed the credit card into the backpack. Got it. >w I couldn't go that way. >n I stepped back down into the yard. My Front Yard Russel Street, from the west, ended just east of here, running into Virgil Road, which runs north-south. The front of my parents' house sported a number of awesome old trees, a large front deck, and an empty gravel driveway. Apparently, Mom and Dad took off early, and took both vehicles. My mom's flower beds occupied the space to either side of the deck. The steps up the deck were to the south; southwest was the trail around the house to my shack out back. Our rickety mailbox stood at the end of the driveway. Though it was night, I could see around me, given the streetlights that had come on at nightfall. >w Broad Field Here, the road went through a field of grass, leading east to the residential area which contained my parents' house and my bungalo. West, it led back to the school. To either side of the road was a large ditch. Streetlights guided me either way. >w I approached the school. Russel Street Lamb High sure looked different at night from during the day; the streetlights seemed to highlight the front fence and the gate, which did not blend in so well with the background school pavement as it had during the day. I could see the padlocked gate to the south--no hope of getting in through there. The fence stretched further west, along the road. East was the way back home. >w I walked back along the fence to the other gate. As I went up to the gate, I was startled by a short, stocky man on the other side. Was this the kidnapper?? I noticed he was in a school custodian uniform. "That was quick service!" he said, unlocking the gate. "Got my supreme pizza?" He had a high voice, nothing like what I heard on the phone. Seeing my opportunity, I closed the pizza box. "Yes, sir," I said. "That'll be six forty-eight," I told him, remembering the receipt from earlier. "You guys DID cook it the way I requested, didn't you?" he said, taking the box from me. He hefted the box a bit. "FUN-ny! It's the old empty pizza box trick. Won't work on me." He gave me the box back. "Come back when you have my pizza!" He turned around, relocked the gate and disappeared. Crap. Lonely Gate A single gate, about as tall as me, was set into the fence to the south here. I noticed that this part of the fence was behind the two-story field house of my school's military training program, and outdoor equipment courses. Even in the streetlight, however, the building was entirely in shadow. The tree-lined road continued west, past the rollup door to the Auto Shop garage; the main gate to the school was east from here. >e Russel Street Lamb High sure looked different at night from during the day; the streetlights seemed to highlight the front fence and the gate, which did not blend in so well with the background school pavement as it had during the day. I could see the padlocked gate to the south--no hope of getting in through there. The fence stretched further west, along the road. East was the way back home. >e I walked east along the fence, past the rancid-smelling cafeteria back area, and then the trees, until they ended at a field, where the only feature was a ditch to either side of the road... Broad Field Here, the road went through a field of grass, leading east to the residential area which contained my parents' house and my bungalo. West, it led back to the school. To either side of the road was a large ditch. Streetlights guided me either way. >e I walked east back home. Again. My Front Yard Russel Street, from the west, ended just east of here, running into Virgil Road, which runs north-south. The front of my parents' house sported a number of awesome old trees, a large front deck, and an empty gravel driveway. Apparently, Mom and Dad took off early, and took both vehicles. My mom's flower beds occupied the space to either side of the deck. The steps up the deck were to the south; southwest was the trail around the house to my shack out back. Our rickety mailbox stood at the end of the driveway. Though it was night, I could see around me, given the streetlights that had come on at nightfall. >s I stepped up onto the deck of the house. On The Deck I was on my parents' front deck, and it was lit softly by light from streetlights which lined the road out front. The wood railing and nearly every spot on the deck was occupied by my Mom's colorful potted plants. Their deck chairs sat here astride the front door to the south, under an awning. A welcome mat lay on the floor at the door, which was closed. >unlock door I was already carrying too much in my hands. I selected the house key from my keyring. I unlocked the front door with my key. >s (first opening the white front door) I pushed open the door to the house, and my nose was immediately assaulted with whatever cinnamon air freshener crap my mom used. Small Living Room As I said, the place was small. But it was cozy. Definitely good enough for Mom and Dad. It had central heating and air. Before me was all the usual living room stuff--a sofa, Dad's chair, TV set. No windows in here. Dad didn't like the idea of people lookin' in. Our kitchen was to the west; to the east was Mom and Dad's bedroom. The front door, which was hanging open, led back onto the deck to the north. >w Kitchenette All you need in a kitchen was here--fridge, oven, small table, pantry and sink. Unless you want a friggin' microwave. You'd have to go next door; we hate that shit. The one telephone in the trailer was on the north wall near the pantry. Next to that was the window over the sink. West was my Mom's project room (my old room); east was back to the living room. On the small table were a burnt pizza and Mom's note. >put pizza in box (first taking the burnt pizza) (putting the oven glove into the green backpack to make room) I tossed the oven glove into the backpack. The pizza box was closed. >open box I opened the pizza box. >put pizza in box The burnt pizza seemed to fit the box just perfectly. Duh. >close box I closed the pizza box. >e Small Living Room As I said, the place was small. But it was cozy. Definitely good enough for Mom and Dad. It had central heating and air. Before me was all the usual living room stuff--a sofa, Dad's chair, TV set. No windows in here. Dad didn't like the idea of people lookin' in. Our kitchen was to the west; to the east was Mom and Dad's bedroom. The front door, which was hanging open, led back onto the deck to the north. >n On The Deck I was on my parents' front deck, and it was lit softly by light from streetlights which lined the road out front. The wood railing and nearly every spot on the deck was occupied by my Mom's colorful potted plants. Their deck chairs sat here astride the front door to the south, under an awning. A welcome mat lay on the floor at the door, which was hanging open >n Duh, I wasn't about to leave the house with the front door open; I closed and locked the door. I stepped back down into the yard. My Front Yard Russel Street, from the west, ended just east of here, running into Virgil Road, which runs north-south. The front of my parents' house sported a number of awesome old trees, a large front deck, and an empty gravel driveway. Apparently, Mom and Dad took off early, and took both vehicles. My mom's flower beds occupied the space to either side of the deck. The steps up the deck were to the south; southwest was the trail around the house to my shack out back. Our rickety mailbox stood at the end of the driveway. Though it was night, I could see around me, given the streetlights that had come on at nightfall. >w Broad Field Here, the road went through a field of grass, leading east to the residential area which contained my parents' house and my bungalo. West, it led back to the school. To either side of the road was a large ditch. Streetlights guided me either way. >w I approached the school. Russel Street Lamb High sure looked different at night from during the day; the streetlights seemed to highlight the front fence and the gate, which did not blend in so well with the background school pavement as it had during the day. I could see the padlocked gate to the south--no hope of getting in through there. The fence stretched further west, along the road. East was the way back home. >w I walked back along the fence to the other gate. As I went up to the gate, the short man reappeared. "Got my pizza this time?" he said, gravely. I almost felt like I had to start looking for another job. "Yes, sir," I said. "That'll be six forty-eight," I told him, remembering the receipt from earlier. "You guys DID cook it the way I requested, didn't you?" he said, taking the box from me. He hefted the box a bit, then opened it, sniffing at my burnt pizza. I was so hoping he would not open the box. "Ahhhh!" he muttered. "Nothing like a burnt supreme pizza, left somewhere to cool off! And uncut! How much do I owe ya? Oh yeah, six forty-eight as always. Here's a ten for ya, for getting it just perfect!" He handed me a ten dollar bill. "Get yourself a raise!" He patted me on the shoulder. "By the way, my name's Eddie! You'll probably be serving me a lot." Not me. "And thank ya very much!" he said, as he turned around, handling the box with both hands. He slammed the gate behind him with his foot. I guess, because he didn't have a free hand, he forgot to lock the padlock. I saw my chance. I waited a minute for his footsteps to disappear. Lonely Gate A single gate, about as tall as me, was set into the fence to the south here. I noticed that this part of the fence was behind the two-story field house of my school's military training program, and outdoor equipment courses. Even in the streetlight, however, the building was entirely in shadow. The tree-lined road continued west, past the rollup door to the Auto Shop garage; the main gate to the school was east from here. The padlock on the gate was unlocked. Just about anyone can friggin' go in, now. That's exactly what I did! I got someone else to take my burnt pizza. You earned 15 points for helping me remember! >s (first opening the single gate) I opened the gate slowly, trying not to make a sound. I stepped into the gate, and into the shadows. I let my eyes adjust to the new lighting situation. And to collect my freakin' thoughts. I was on the campus now. But where the hell do I need to go? I felt that I needed to be sure that that custodian who took my burnt pizza was not the kidnapper. Maybe that guy is working on this building, upstairs, and is holding Anne somewhere else? Outdoor Storage This was a carport-like area at the field house, the part of the building where my school held its classes on handling and fixing outdoor equipment. Now at night, all the stuff was locked away in a large storage unit, whose door was to the east; this low-roofed area, where I was, was now empty. To the south was the seemingly-infinite parking lot. To the west was the blank wall of the auto shop building. >save Ok. >e (first opening the storage door) I bent over and tried to lift it, but the door would not budge. It probably would have made a lot of noise anyways. But I still felt I needed to get in there, somehow. >x unit It was a rollup garage-type door. It looked seriously locked. >x door It was a rollup garage-type door. It looked seriously locked. >unlock it It looked like I would need a key for that. >s As I stepped into the parking lot, I heard a car pull up to the small gate. I hid behind a corner, in the shadows. Looking around it, I saw the same pizza guy from earlier, carrying another pizza box! He stood there for a minute, looking around, getting impatient and fidgeting. He said, "Is there anyone there? Mister, ah," looking at a receipt, "Ed? Mister Ed?" Of course there was no answer. "Well, I'm not going to stand here and wait. What a fucking evening," he muttered as he walked back to his car, screeching his frickin' tires as he pulled away. I'm glad I never went into pizza delivery. Never fuckin' will. >l Outdoor Storage This was a carport-like area at the field house, the part of the building where my school held its classes on handling and fixing outdoor equipment. Now at night, all the stuff was locked away in a large storage unit, whose door was to the east; this low-roofed area, where I was, was now empty. To the south was the seemingly-infinite parking lot. To the west was the blank wall of the auto shop building. >w That was the auto shop building; the door was to the south of here. >s Field House Front The parking lot was lit dimly by lights here and there. Only a few cars, probably belonging to the custodians, were there. The tennis court, to one side of the field house, was to the northeast. A metal stairway led to the upper floor of the house. The door to the auto shop building was to the northwest; it was next to the storage area to the north, where I emerged. To the southeast was more parking lot, and beyond that, the gym and football field; the fence around the track was to the west and south. To the east were the main school buildings. >nw The auto shop building was closed and locked for the week. I had no idea how I was going to get in and search it. >ne I stepped between the field house and the tall fence onto the tennis court. Tennis Court Our tennis court was lit by bulbs set along the top of the tall fences on the north and south sides. I guess that was in case someone tried to break into the sports storage door of the building to the west. But I certainly never saw any security cameras anywhere at this school. A short net spanned the court. To the east was the area of the lot in front of the main gate. A break between the fence and the building led out to the southwest whence I came. >take net I pulled at it and it sprung back. Yawn. >w (first opening the wide door) It seemed to be locked. >x door A huge door in the side of the building. I knew they kept a lot of the outdoor sporting equipment inside, but I felt like I needed to search the room. >e Main Gateway I was now on the south side of the front gate onto the campus, which was flanked by a tall fence. Soft white light, from the tennis court to the west, and the street lights on Russel Street, to the north, cast an eerie glow over the pavement. To the southeast was the entrance to Middle Hall, and my study hall. Southwest and south was the main parking lot. Around the corner of North Hall, to the east, was the north courtyard of the school. >n (first opening the front gate) It was hopelessly locked. >e I walked around the corner of North Hall, onto the north courtyard. North Courtyard, west end I was in the grassy area between North Hall and Middle Hall. Students often hung out here between or before classes. I avoided it like the fuckin' plague, except when I had to get to my locker. Which was past the glass doors to the north, which were closed. The yard went further in to the east, where I could see the cafeteria doors. To the west, around the corner of North Hall, was the main gate to the campus. South was the porch in front of my study hall; to the southwest was the main parking lot. >n (first opening the north glass doors) I pulled tentatively at the glass doors, but they were tightly locked. >e I walked further into the yard. North Courtyard, east A lot of students stood around here, in the grass, during lunch break. But not the 'cool' crowd, who stood in the south yard; most of us lower-class people hung out here. But not me, I actually walked around. Here, we were surrounded by the outer walls of East Hall, Middle Hall and North Hall. The doors to the cafeteria, in North Hall, were to the north; they were closed. The escape was west, though I could cut back to the study hall porch to the southwest. >n (first opening the cafeteria doors) I pulled tentatively at the glass doors, but they were tightly locked. >sw I stepped back onto the porch in front of my study hall. Study Hall Entrance Concrete porch in front of my study hall, with brown double doors leading in to the east; they were closed. Some graffiti, barely noticeable, adorned the edge of one of the doors on this side. The schoolyard extended outward before me, with the main parking to the west, along with the field house; the north part of the building--with all the lockers--across the courtyard to the north. Across the parking lot to the southwest, was the gym and football field. To the northeast, across the courtyard, was the cafeteria. To the south and southeast was the south courtyard. To the northwest was the main gate, which was now closed. >n I stepped into the north courtyard, up to the door to the locker area of North Hall. North Courtyard, west end I was in the grassy area between North Hall and Middle Hall. Students often hung out here between or before classes. I avoided it like the fuckin' plague, except when I had to get to my locker. Which was past the glass doors to the north, which were closed. The yard went further in to the east, where I could see the cafeteria doors. To the west, around the corner of North Hall, was the main gate to the campus. South was the porch in front of my study hall; to the southwest was the main parking lot. >nw I couldn't go that way. >w I walked around the corner to the main gate of the campus. Main Gateway I was now on the south side of the front gate onto the campus, which was flanked by a tall fence. Soft white light, from the tennis court to the west, and the street lights on Russel Street, to the north, cast an eerie glow over the pavement. To the southeast was the entrance to Middle Hall, and my study hall. Southwest and south was the main parking lot. Around the corner of North Hall, to the east, was the north courtyard of the school. >w I stepped back onto the tennis court. Tennis Court Our tennis court was lit by bulbs set along the top of the tall fences on the north and south sides. I guess that was in case someone tried to break into the sports storage door of the building to the west. But I certainly never saw any security cameras anywhere at this school. A short net spanned the court. To the east was the area of the lot in front of the main gate. A break between the fence and the building led out to the southwest whence I came. >w (first opening the wide door) It seemed to be locked. >sw Field House Front The parking lot was lit dimly by lights here and there. Only a few cars, probably belonging to the custodians, were there. The tennis court, to one side of the field house, was to the northeast. A metal stairway led to the upper floor of the house. The door to the auto shop building was to the northwest; it was next to the storage area to the north, where I emerged. To the southeast was more parking lot, and beyond that, the gym and football field; the fence around the track was to the west and south. To the east were the main school buildings. >u I grabbed the rail and began my slow, silent ascent upwards. This was the military area; my association with anything so regulated was tense to begin with. Will almost took this route, and for the wrong reason--he wanted to "prove himself" to his dad. I told him he should screw it, and just become what he needed to be. Probably saved his life. The door was open and I stepped in. Strangely, all the lights were on. Eddie was probably still at work. JROTC Hall Junior Reserve Officers Training Corps, as it is known in many high schools. I called this Just ROTten to the Core Hall. But that was just my thing--I knew that we needed the military in our present world. I just didn't agree with how it was being used at the time. The east and west walls were covered with pictures of cadets, officers, plaques, and awards of all kinds. Open doorways led east and west. A blue pannelled door, closed, was to the northwest. To the north was a closed red door. The stairway led down back to the parking lot. I heard the sound of a television set coming from the door to the north. At the same time, I could hear a phone ring from the direction of the blue door. >nw (first opening the blue panelled door) Surprisingly, the door was unlocked. A black telephone, on the desk inside, was ringing. I stepped quietly into the office. CO Office Apparently this was the office of the Commanding Officer of my school's JROTC unit. He had a funny name, like Colonel Penobscot or something like that, I don't know. The room had a stiff officiousness about it that I found hard to take. His desk was in the center of the room, with some flags behind it. His black telephone was on the desk. The door back out to the hall was encouragingly to the southeast. The phone on the desk rang. >answer phone For a moment, I really, crazily thought that this was the kidnapper trying to get through to me. Which gave me every reason to answer the phone. I picked it up. In a weak voice, I said, "Hello?" The voice on the other end said, "This is Snazzio's Pizza, is this Ed? Ed....Esselbach?" In my best high voice, I said, "Yeah, this is Ed!" "Yes, Ed, ah, our delivery guy says he tried to deliver your pizza, but you weren't at the location when he went by." Getting an idea, I said, "Yeah, well I waited there for ten minutes, and he didn't show." The other voice hesitated for a moment, and then said, "Well, he DID have other deliveries to make before that, and this HAS been a busy night for all of us. We're very sorry, sir. He's still pretty much in the area. We'll have him re-deliver the pizza, and don't worry, this will be on the house. No charge!" "Frick..." I almost said, in my real voice, "Awesome!" returning to the high voice, "You guys are excellent! Thank you!" "Not a problem. You have a wonderful weekend!" When I hung up, I realized that I would just be getting back another burnt pizza. But it might be useful for something. >se JROTC Hall Junior Reserve Officers Training Corps, as it is known in many high schools. I called this Just ROTten to the Core Hall. But that was just my thing--I knew that we needed the military in our present world. I just didn't agree with how it was being used at the time. The east and west walls were covered with pictures of cadets, officers, plaques, and awards of all kinds. Open doorways led east and west. A blue pannelled door was to the northwest. To the north was a closed red door. The stairway led down back to the parking lot. I heard the sound of a television set coming from the door to the north. >d Field House Front The parking lot was lit dimly by lights here and there. Only a few cars, probably belonging to the custodians, were there. The tennis court, to one side of the field house, was to the northeast. A metal stairway led to the upper floor of the house. The door to the auto shop building was to the northwest; it was next to the storage area to the north, where I emerged. To the southeast was more parking lot, and beyond that, the gym and football field; the fence around the track was to the west and south. To the east were the main school buildings. >nw The auto shop building was closed and locked for the week. I had no idea how I was going to get in and search it. >ne I stepped between the field house and the tall fence onto the tennis court. Tennis Court Our tennis court was lit by bulbs set along the top of the tall fences on the north and south sides. I guess that was in case someone tried to break into the sports storage door of the building to the west. But I certainly never saw any security cameras anywhere at this school. A short net spanned the court. To the east was the area of the lot in front of the main gate. A break between the fence and the building led out to the southwest whence I came. >e Main Gateway I was now on the south side of the front gate onto the campus, which was flanked by a tall fence. Soft white light, from the tennis court to the west, and the street lights on Russel Street, to the north, cast an eerie glow over the pavement. To the southeast was the entrance to Middle Hall, and my study hall. Southwest and south was the main parking lot. Around the corner of North Hall, to the east, was the north courtyard of the school. I heard a muffled sound, like something hitting a fence, and the screeching of car tires. >z Time passed. >z Time passed. >l Main Gateway I was now on the south side of the front gate onto the campus, which was flanked by a tall fence. Soft white light, from the tennis court to the west, and the street lights on Russel Street, to the north, cast an eerie glow over the pavement. To the southeast was the entrance to Middle Hall, and my study hall. Southwest and south was the main parking lot. Around the corner of North Hall, to the east, was the north courtyard of the school. >l Main Gateway I was now on the south side of the front gate onto the campus, which was flanked by a tall fence. Soft white light, from the tennis court to the west, and the street lights on Russel Street, to the north, cast an eerie glow over the pavement. To the southeast was the entrance to Middle Hall, and my study hall. Southwest and south was the main parking lot. Around the corner of North Hall, to the east, was the north courtyard of the school. >z Time passed. >z Time passed. >z Time passed. >z Time passed. >z Time passed. >n (first opening the front gate) It was hopelessly locked. >l Main Gateway I was now on the south side of the front gate onto the campus, which was flanked by a tall fence. Soft white light, from the tennis court to the west, and the street lights on Russel Street, to the north, cast an eerie glow over the pavement. To the southeast was the entrance to Middle Hall, and my study hall. Southwest and south was the main parking lot. Around the corner of North Hall, to the east, was the north courtyard of the school. >sw I couldn't go that way. >se I walked back over to the porch in front of the study hall doors. Study Hall Entrance Concrete porch in front of my study hall, with brown double doors leading in to the east; they were closed. Some graffiti, barely noticeable, adorned the edge of one of the doors on this side. The schoolyard extended outward before me, with the main parking to the west, along with the field house; the north part of the building--with all the lockers--across the courtyard to the north. Across the parking lot to the southwest, was the gym and football field. To the northeast, across the courtyard, was the cafeteria. To the south and southeast was the south courtyard. To the northwest was the main gate, which was now closed. >nw Main Gateway I was now on the south side of the front gate onto the campus, which was flanked by a tall fence. Soft white light, from the tennis court to the west, and the street lights on Russel Street, to the north, cast an eerie glow over the pavement. To the southeast was the entrance to Middle Hall, and my study hall. Southwest and south was the main parking lot. Around the corner of North Hall, to the east, was the north courtyard of the school. >s I walked further into the middle of the parking lot. School Parking I stood in the middle of the school parking lot, lit here and there by white street lights. I could see only the outlines of a few cars here, probably belonging to custodians. Or just abandoned. Whatever. To the northwest was the field house, where I first came onto the campus; to the north was the main gate. East was the porch in front of the study hall, in Middle Hall; northeast and southeast were the two courtyards to either side of it. To the south was the back gate, and the entrance to the gym and track. To the west and southwest was the tall fence around the track. >sw There was only the fence in that direction. >w There was only the fence in that direction. >se Somehow I wasn't sure that I was done with the field house, yet. >e Somehow I wasn't sure that I was done with the field house, yet. >nw I made my way back to the field house. Field House Front The parking lot was lit dimly by lights here and there. Only a few cars, probably belonging to the custodians, were there. The tennis court, to one side of the field house, was to the northeast. A metal stairway led to the upper floor of the house. The door to the auto shop building was to the northwest; it was next to the storage area to the north, where I emerged. To the southeast was more parking lot, and beyond that, the gym and football field; the fence around the track was to the west and south. To the east were the main school buildings. >u I grabbed the rail and began my slow, silent ascent upwards. This was the military area; my association with anything so regulated was tense to begin with. The door was open and I stepped in. JROTC Hall Junior Reserve Officers Training Corps, as it is known in many high schools. I called this Just ROTten to the Core Hall. But that was just my thing--I knew that we needed the military in our present world. I just didn't agree with how it was being used at the time. The east and west walls were covered with pictures of cadets, officers, plaques, and awards of all kinds. Open doorways led east and west. A blue pannelled door was to the northwest. To the north was a closed red door. The stairway led down back to the parking lot. I heard the sound of a television set coming from the door to the north. >e Rifle Range If I understood it correctly, this huge room was used for practicing marksmanship, a skill that every cadet had to learn. Targets would be placed at the south end, and pellet rifles would be used by cadets in various positions at the north end of the room. This room was also used to teach drill with fake weapons. I know this because I saw pictures of it in the yearbook. Those cadets would do some fancy shit during our school parades and other events. A large window at the north end of the room looked into another room; I guess this was where students and instructors could watch what was going on on the range. A doorway led west into the hall. Someone left one of those fake rifles, lying in the middle of the floor. I could just barely hear the sound of a television set coming from the north. >take rifle Though it was so totally alien to my nature, I took up the weapon. I could just barely hear the sound of a television set coming from the north. >w JROTC Hall Junior Reserve Officers Training Corps, as it is known in many high schools. I called this Just ROTten to the Core Hall. But that was just my thing--I knew that we needed the military in our present world. I just didn't agree with how it was being used at the time. The east and west walls were covered with pictures of cadets, officers, plaques, and awards of all kinds. Open doorways led east and west. A blue pannelled door was to the northwest. To the north was a closed red door. The stairway led down back to the parking lot. I heard the sound of a television set coming from the door to the north. >w Military Classroom Just like any other classroom I had been in. Except the motif was a military one, which I won't go into, here. Nothing here was interesting to me, except the doorway, which was to the east. >e JROTC Hall Junior Reserve Officers Training Corps, as it is known in many high schools. I called this Just ROTten to the Core Hall. But that was just my thing--I knew that we needed the military in our present world. I just didn't agree with how it was being used at the time. The east and west walls were covered with pictures of cadets, officers, plaques, and awards of all kinds. Open doorways led east and west. A blue pannelled door was to the northwest. To the north was a closed red door. The stairway led down back to the parking lot. I heard the sound of a television set coming from the door to the north. >n (first opening the red panelled door) I thought I probably should knock, first...?? I heard the sound of a television set coming from the door to the north. >knock door Which do you mean, the blue panelled door or the red panelled door? >red I didn't feel right about doing that, without being fuckin' sure of who would answer it. I heard the sound of a television set coming from the door to the north. >nw I stepped quietly into the office. CO Office Apparently this was the office of the Commanding Officer of my school's JROTC unit. He had a funny name, like Colonel Penobscot or something like that, I don't know. The room had a stiff officiousness about it that I found hard to take. His desk was in the center of the room, with some flags behind it. His black telephone was on the desk. The door back out to the hall was encouragingly to the southeast. >x desk It was made of steel and full of drawers. >open it All the drawers were locked, and I was sure that there was nothing on or in the desk that interested me, unless Colonel Penwhoever had something to do with Anne's disappearance. >s I couldn't go that way. >se JROTC Hall Junior Reserve Officers Training Corps, as it is known in many high schools. I called this Just ROTten to the Core Hall. But that was just my thing--I knew that we needed the military in our present world. I just didn't agree with how it was being used at the time. The east and west walls were covered with pictures of cadets, officers, plaques, and awards of all kinds. Open doorways led east and west. A blue pannelled door was to the northwest. To the north was a closed red door. The stairway led down back to the parking lot. I heard the sound of a television set coming from the door to the north. >listen The sound of a TV set was coming from behind the red door to the north. I heard the sound of a television set coming from the door to the north. >listen to red door All I could hear coming from the door was a loud TV set, probably a movie or an episode of some action thriller-type program. Lots of shooting and screeching tires. I got bored with that stuff when I was about, uh, nine. I heard the sound of a television set coming from the door to the north. >open red door I thought I probably should knock, first...?? I heard the sound of a television set coming from the door to the north. >d Field House Front The parking lot was lit dimly by lights here and there. Only a few cars, probably belonging to the custodians, were there. The tennis court, to one side of the field house, was to the northeast. A metal stairway led to the upper floor of the house. The door to the auto shop building was to the northwest; it was next to the storage area to the north, where I emerged. To the southeast was more parking lot, and beyond that, the gym and football field; the fence around the track was to the west and south. To the east were the main school buildings. >s I didn't feel right about wandering off, yet. I wanted to make absolutely sure that ol' Eddie was not the kidnapper. And I wanted to fully search the field house. >u I grabbed the rail and began my slow, silent ascent upwards. This was the military area; my association with anything so regulated was tense to begin with. The door was open and I stepped in. JROTC Hall Junior Reserve Officers Training Corps, as it is known in many high schools. I called this Just ROTten to the Core Hall. But that was just my thing--I knew that we needed the military in our present world. I just didn't agree with how it was being used at the time. The east and west walls were covered with pictures of cadets, officers, plaques, and awards of all kinds. Open doorways led east and west. A blue pannelled door was to the northwest. To the north was a closed red door. The stairway led down back to the parking lot. I heard the sound of a television set coming from the door to the north. >e Rifle Range If I understood it correctly, this huge room was used for practicing marksmanship, a skill that every cadet had to learn. Targets would be placed at the south end, and pellet rifles would be used by cadets in various positions at the north end of the room. This room was also used to teach drill with fake weapons. I know this because I saw pictures of it in the yearbook. Those cadets would do some fancy shit during our school parades and other events. A large window at the north end of the room looked into another room; I guess this was where students and instructors could watch what was going on on the range. A doorway led west into the hall. I could just barely hear the sound of a television set coming from the north. >shoot rifle What do you want to shoot the drill rifle at? >target I couldn't see any such thing. >x target I couldn't see any such thing. >take all There were none at all available! >w JROTC Hall Junior Reserve Officers Training Corps, as it is known in many high schools. I called this Just ROTten to the Core Hall. But that was just my thing--I knew that we needed the military in our present world. I just didn't agree with how it was being used at the time. The east and west walls were covered with pictures of cadets, officers, plaques, and awards of all kinds. Open doorways led east and west. A blue pannelled door was to the northwest. To the north was a closed red door. The stairway led down back to the parking lot. I heard the sound of a television set coming from the door to the north. >shoot rifle What do you want to shoot the drill rifle at? >awards I took aim at the cadet portraits with the rifle, and said "Pow." I still didn't understand the appeal. I heard the sound of a television set coming from the door to the north. >shoot rifle at red door I took aim at the red panelled door with the rifle, and said "Pow." I still didn't understand the appeal. I heard the sound of a television set coming from the door to the north. >kick red door I much prefered using my hands for something that requires hands. I heard the sound of a television set coming from the door to the north. >n (first opening the red panelled door) I thought I probably should knock, first...?? I heard the sound of a television set coming from the door to the north. >knock red door I didn't feel right about doing that, without being fuckin' sure of who would answer it. I heard the sound of a television set coming from the door to the north. >x red door On this side, it was just red. I heard the sound of a television set coming from the door to the north. >w Military Classroom Just like any other classroom I had been in. Except the motif was a military one, which I won't go into, here. Nothing here was interesting to me, except the doorway, which was to the east. >e JROTC Hall Junior Reserve Officers Training Corps, as it is known in many high schools. I called this Just ROTten to the Core Hall. But that was just my thing--I knew that we needed the military in our present world. I just didn't agree with how it was being used at the time. The east and west walls were covered with pictures of cadets, officers, plaques, and awards of all kinds. Open doorways led east and west. A blue pannelled door was to the northwest. To the north was a closed red door. The stairway led down back to the parking lot. I heard the sound of a television set coming from the door to the north. >nw I stepped quietly into the office. CO Office Apparently this was the office of the Commanding Officer of my school's JROTC unit. He had a funny name, like Colonel Penobscot or something like that, I don't know. The room had a stiff officiousness about it that I found hard to take. His desk was in the center of the room, with some flags behind it. His black telephone was on the desk. The door back out to the hall was encouragingly to the southeast. >x telephone Very shiny and black. >read it Very shiny and black. >take it It wasn't ringing. >call will I probably shouldn't involve anyone else in this. Plus, Anne needs me more than Will does. Let him get his own shit together tonight. >call anne Anne is in the clutches of that creepy piece of shit. She's certainly not at home. >s I couldn't go that way. >se JROTC Hall Junior Reserve Officers Training Corps, as it is known in many high schools. I called this Just ROTten to the Core Hall. But that was just my thing--I knew that we needed the military in our present world. I just didn't agree with how it was being used at the time. The east and west walls were covered with pictures of cadets, officers, plaques, and awards of all kinds. Open doorways led east and west. A blue pannelled door was to the northwest. To the north was a closed red door. The stairway led down back to the parking lot. I heard the sound of a television set coming from the door to the north. >d Field House Front The parking lot was lit dimly by lights here and there. Only a few cars, probably belonging to the custodians, were there. The tennis court, to one side of the field house, was to the northeast. A metal stairway led to the upper floor of the house. The door to the auto shop building was to the northwest; it was next to the storage area to the north, where I emerged. To the southeast was more parking lot, and beyond that, the gym and football field; the fence around the track was to the west and south. To the east were the main school buildings. >nw The auto shop building was closed and locked for the week. I had no idea how I was going to get in and search it. >w I didn't feel right about wandering off, yet. I wanted to make absolutely sure that ol' Eddie was not the kidnapper. And I wanted to fully search the field house. >s I didn't feel right about wandering off, yet. I wanted to make absolutely sure that ol' Eddie was not the kidnapper. And I wanted to fully search the field house. >sw I didn't feel right about wandering off, yet. I wanted to make absolutely sure that ol' Eddie was not the kidnapper. And I wanted to fully search the field house. >se I didn't feel right about wandering off, yet. I wanted to make absolutely sure that ol' Eddie was not the kidnapper. And I wanted to fully search the field house. >n Outdoor Storage This was a carport-like area at the field house, the part of the building where my school held its classes on handling and fixing outdoor equipment. Now at night, all the stuff was locked away in a large storage unit, whose door was to the east; this low-roofed area, where I was, was now empty. To the south was the seemingly-infinite parking lot. To the west was the blank wall of the auto shop building. >n Lonely Gate A single gate, about as tall as me, was set into the fence to the south here. I noticed that this part of the fence was behind the two-story field house of my school's military training program, and outdoor equipment courses. Even in the streetlight, however, the building was entirely in shadow. The tree-lined road continued west, past the rollup door to the Auto Shop garage; the main gate to the school was east from here. The padlock on the gate was unlocked. Just about anyone can friggin' go in, now. Lying in the middle of the road was another burnt pizza, much like the one I gave to Eddie. Another pizza box was lying on the ground, open, near the gate. >take all burnt pizza: (putting the receipt into the green backpack to make room) I tossed the receipt into the backpack. I picked the burnt pizza up off of the road. It was hard as a rock. pizza box: (putting the acoustic guitar into the green backpack to make room) The acoustic guitar was too big to fit into the backpack. That's exactly what I did! I got another free pizza....though it was burnt again, which might be useful. You earned 10 points for helping me remember! >put burnt pizza in pizza box The burnt pizza seemed to fit the box just perfectly. Duh. >close box I closed the pizza box. >s I stepped into the gate, and into the shadows. I let my eyes adjust to the new lighting situation. Outdoor Storage This was a carport-like area at the field house, the part of the building where my school held its classes on handling and fixing outdoor equipment. Now at night, all the stuff was locked away in a large storage unit, whose door was to the east; this low-roofed area, where I was, was now empty. To the south was the seemingly-infinite parking lot. To the west was the blank wall of the auto shop building. >s Field House Front The parking lot was lit dimly by lights here and there. Only a few cars, probably belonging to the custodians, were there. The tennis court, to one side of the field house, was to the northeast. A metal stairway led to the upper floor of the house. The door to the auto shop building was to the northwest; it was next to the storage area to the north, where I emerged. To the southeast was more parking lot, and beyond that, the gym and football field; the fence around the track was to the west and south. To the east were the main school buildings. >u I grabbed the rail and began my slow, silent ascent upwards. This was the military area; my association with anything so regulated was tense to begin with. The door was open and I stepped in. JROTC Hall Junior Reserve Officers Training Corps, as it is known in many high schools. I called this Just ROTten to the Core Hall. But that was just my thing--I knew that we needed the military in our present world. I just didn't agree with how it was being used at the time. The east and west walls were covered with pictures of cadets, officers, plaques, and awards of all kinds. Open doorways led east and west. A blue pannelled door was to the northwest. To the north was a closed red door. The stairway led down back to the parking lot. I heard the sound of a television set coming from the door to the north. >kock door That's not a verb I recognize. >knock door Which do you mean, the blue panelled door or the red panelled door? >red I didn't feel right about doing that, without being fuckin' sure of who would answer it. I heard the sound of a television set coming from the door to the north. >i I was carrying: a drill rifle a ten-dollar bill a torn note Anne's diary a wire hanger, untwisted into a long wire my acoustic guitar a flashlight (providing light) a green backpack (open) a receipt an oven glove a credit card Will's note my keyring my house key my locker key a pack of Vance peanut butter crackers my ripped notebook my green pencil my usual threads (being worn) My pocket was empty. I heard the sound of a television set coming from the door to the north. >play guitar I took up my guitar and slung the strap around my neck. I began slowly picking one of my favorite songs--Ricky Nelson's "Hello MaryLou". Immediately I felt more relaxed. I heard the sound of a television set coming from the door to the north. >u I tried flapping my wings, with predictable results. I heard the sound of a television set coming from the door to the north. >open pack I definitely wasn't hungry at that time. I heard the sound of a television set coming from the door to the north. >w Military Classroom Just like any other classroom I had been in. Except the motif was a military one, which I won't go into, here. Nothing here was interesting to me, except the doorway, which was to the east. >x window I couldn't see any such thing. >e JROTC Hall Junior Reserve Officers Training Corps, as it is known in many high schools. I called this Just ROTten to the Core Hall. But that was just my thing--I knew that we needed the military in our present world. I just didn't agree with how it was being used at the time. The east and west walls were covered with pictures of cadets, officers, plaques, and awards of all kinds. Open doorways led east and west. A blue pannelled door was to the northwest. To the north was a closed red door. The stairway led down back to the parking lot. I heard the sound of a television set coming from the door to the north. >nw I stepped quietly into the office. CO Office Apparently this was the office of the Commanding Officer of my school's JROTC unit. He had a funny name, like Colonel Penobscot or something like that, I don't know. The room had a stiff officiousness about it that I found hard to take. His desk was in the center of the room, with some flags behind it. His black telephone was on the desk. The door back out to the hall was encouragingly to the southeast. >u I tried flapping my wings, with predictable results. >x window I couldn't see any such thing. >move desk It was fixed in place. >climb desk As tempted as it frickin' was to climb on top and break dance, I didn't want to make too much noise. >x flags One was a US flag; another the flag of the US Army; the third was the school's flag, which was just basically our colors--brown and white. Like a horse and a lamb. >close door I closed the blue panelled door. >x it The door was just blue. >open it I opened the blue panelled door. >se JROTC Hall Junior Reserve Officers Training Corps, as it is known in many high schools. I called this Just ROTten to the Core Hall. But that was just my thing--I knew that we needed the military in our present world. I just didn't agree with how it was being used at the time. The east and west walls were covered with pictures of cadets, officers, plaques, and awards of all kinds. Open doorways led east and west. A blue pannelled door was to the northwest. To the north was a closed red door. The stairway led down back to the parking lot. I heard the sound of a television set coming from the door to the north. >e Rifle Range If I understood it correctly, this huge room was used for practicing marksmanship, a skill that every cadet had to learn. Targets would be placed at the south end, and pellet rifles would be used by cadets in various positions at the north end of the room. This room was also used to teach drill with fake weapons. I know this because I saw pictures of it in the yearbook. Those cadets would do some fancy shit during our school parades and other events. A large window at the north end of the room looked into another room; I guess this was where students and instructors could watch what was going on on the range. A doorway led west into the hall. I could just barely hear the sound of a television set coming from the north. >close door I couldn't see any such thing. >w JROTC Hall Junior Reserve Officers Training Corps, as it is known in many high schools. I called this Just ROTten to the Core Hall. But that was just my thing--I knew that we needed the military in our present world. I just didn't agree with how it was being used at the time. The east and west walls were covered with pictures of cadets, officers, plaques, and awards of all kinds. Open doorways led east and west. A blue pannelled door was to the northwest. To the north was a closed red door. The stairway led down back to the parking lot. I heard the sound of a television set coming from the door to the north. >w Military Classroom Just like any other classroom I had been in. Except the motif was a military one, which I won't go into, here. Nothing here was interesting to me, except the doorway, which was to the east. >close door I couldn't see any such thing. >e JROTC Hall Junior Reserve Officers Training Corps, as it is known in many high schools. I called this Just ROTten to the Core Hall. But that was just my thing--I knew that we needed the military in our present world. I just didn't agree with how it was being used at the time. The east and west walls were covered with pictures of cadets, officers, plaques, and awards of all kinds. Open doorways led east and west. A blue pannelled door was to the northwest. To the north was a closed red door. The stairway led down back to the parking lot. I heard the sound of a television set coming from the door to the north. >d Field House Front The parking lot was lit dimly by lights here and there. Only a few cars, probably belonging to the custodians, were there. The tennis court, to one side of the field house, was to the northeast. A metal stairway led to the upper floor of the house. The door to the auto shop building was to the northwest; it was next to the storage area to the north, where I emerged. To the southeast was more parking lot, and beyond that, the gym and football field; the fence around the track was to the west and south. To the east were the main school buildings. >x stairway I couldn't see any such thing. >ne I stepped between the field house and the tall fence onto the tennis court. Tennis Court Our tennis court was lit by bulbs set along the top of the tall fences on the north and south sides. I guess that was in case someone tried to break into the sports storage door of the building to the west. But I certainly never saw any security cameras anywhere at this school. A short net spanned the court. To the east was the area of the lot in front of the main gate. A break between the fence and the building led out to the southwest whence I came. >sw Field House Front The parking lot was lit dimly by lights here and there. Only a few cars, probably belonging to the custodians, were there. The tennis court, to one side of the field house, was to the northeast. A metal stairway led to the upper floor of the house. The door to the auto shop building was to the northwest; it was next to the storage area to the north, where I emerged. To the southeast was more parking lot, and beyond that, the gym and football field; the fence around the track was to the west and south. To the east were the main school buildings. >x cars Just few run-down cars. At what those guys are probably paid, I was surprised that the cars could run. >open cars I didn't have a key to any of them. >put wire in cars None of the cars were open. Surprisingly. >unlock cars with wire I didn't have a key to any of them. >pick cars with wire I didn't have a key to any of them. >e I couldn't go that way. >nw The auto shop building was closed and locked for the week. I had no idea how I was going to get in and search it. >n Outdoor Storage This was a carport-like area at the field house, the part of the building where my school held its classes on handling and fixing outdoor equipment. Now at night, all the stuff was locked away in a large storage unit, whose door was to the east; this low-roofed area, where I was, was now empty. To the south was the seemingly-infinite parking lot. To the west was the blank wall of the auto shop building. >pick lock I couldn't see any such thing. >x lock I couldn't see any such thing. >open door I bent over and tried to lift it, but the door would not budge. It probably would have made a lot of noise anyways. But I still felt I needed to get in there, somehow. >bang it I didn't dare make any noise. >e (first opening the storage door) I bent over and tried to lift it, but the door would not budge. It probably would have made a lot of noise anyways. But I still felt I needed to get in there, somehow. >s Field House Front The parking lot was lit dimly by lights here and there. Only a few cars, probably belonging to the custodians, were there. The tennis court, to one side of the field house, was to the northeast. A metal stairway led to the upper floor of the house. The door to the auto shop building was to the northwest; it was next to the storage area to the north, where I emerged. To the southeast was more parking lot, and beyond that, the gym and football field; the fence around the track was to the west and south. To the east were the main school buildings. >ne I stepped between the field house and the tall fence onto the tennis court. Tennis Court Our tennis court was lit by bulbs set along the top of the tall fences on the north and south sides. I guess that was in case someone tried to break into the sports storage door of the building to the west. But I certainly never saw any security cameras anywhere at this school. A short net spanned the court. To the east was the area of the lot in front of the main gate. A break between the fence and the building led out to the southwest whence I came. >w (first opening the wide door) It seemed to be locked. >x door A huge door in the side of the building. I knew they kept a lot of the outdoor sporting equipment inside, but I felt like I needed to search the room. >pick lock I couldn't see any such thing. >open door It seemed to be locked. >open door with wire I couldn't even get the end of it into the keyhole. They sure don't make locks the way they used to. >x window I couldn't see any such thing. >x keyhole I couldn't see any such thing. >e Main Gateway I was now on the south side of the front gate onto the campus, which was flanked by a tall fence. Soft white light, from the tennis court to the west, and the street lights on Russel Street, to the north, cast an eerie glow over the pavement. To the southeast was the entrance to Middle Hall, and my study hall. Southwest and south was the main parking lot. Around the corner of North Hall, to the east, was the north courtyard of the school. >e I walked around the corner of North Hall, onto the north courtyard. North Courtyard, west end I was in the grassy area between North Hall and Middle Hall. Students often hung out here between or before classes. I avoided it like the fuckin' plague, except when I had to get to my locker. Which was past the glass doors to the north, which were closed. The yard went further in to the east, where I could see the cafeteria doors. To the west, around the corner of North Hall, was the main gate to the campus. South was the porch in front of my study hall; to the southwest was the main parking lot. >s I stepped back onto the porch in front of my study hall. Study Hall Entrance Concrete porch in front of my study hall, with brown double doors leading in to the east; they were closed. Some graffiti, barely noticeable, adorned the edge of one of the doors on this side. The schoolyard extended outward before me, with the main parking to the west, along with the field house; the north part of the building--with all the lockers--across the courtyard to the north. Across the parking lot to the southwest, was the gym and football field. To the northeast, across the courtyard, was the cafeteria. To the south and southeast was the south courtyard. To the northwest was the main gate, which was now closed. >s I stepped into the south courtyard, to the door to South Hall. South Courtyard, west end This grassy area was a popular hangout for the jocks during lunch break and before classes. Hence I avoided it at all times. They would stand here and gawk at the girls or harrass the nerds and people like me. To the south were the glass doors into South Hall, and the inner entrance to the gym. To the north was the porch in front of my study hall; northwest was the main parking lot. The yard went further in to the east. >e I walked further into the yard. South Courtyard, east Most of the popular people and the upper-classers hung out here. Though I could never see why, except to avoid the undesirables like me. It was completely enclosed by the outer walls of East Hall, South Hall and Middle Hall. The way out was to the west, or I could go back to the study hall porch to the northwest. >nw I cut back across the yard to the porch in front of my study hall. Study Hall Entrance Concrete porch in front of my study hall, with brown double doors leading in to the east; they were closed. Some graffiti, barely noticeable, adorned the edge of one of the doors on this side. The schoolyard extended outward before me, with the main parking to the west, along with the field house; the north part of the building--with all the lockers--across the courtyard to the north. Across the parking lot to the southwest, was the gym and football field. To the northeast, across the courtyard, was the cafeteria. To the south and southeast was the south courtyard. To the northwest was the main gate, which was now closed. >n I stepped into the north courtyard, up to the door to the locker area of North Hall. North Courtyard, west end I was in the grassy area between North Hall and Middle Hall. Students often hung out here between or before classes. I avoided it like the fuckin' plague, except when I had to get to my locker. Which was past the glass doors to the north, which were closed. The yard went further in to the east, where I could see the cafeteria doors. To the west, around the corner of North Hall, was the main gate to the campus. South was the porch in front of my study hall; to the southwest was the main parking lot. >e I walked further into the yard. North Courtyard, east A lot of students stood around here, in the grass, during lunch break. But not the 'cool' crowd, who stood in the south yard; most of us lower-class people hung out here. But not me, I actually walked around. Here, we were surrounded by the outer walls of East Hall, Middle Hall and North Hall. The doors to the cafeteria, in North Hall, were to the north; they were closed. The escape was west, though I could cut back to the study hall porch to the southwest. >s I couldn't go that way. >w I walked back to the west end of the yard. North Courtyard, west end I was in the grassy area between North Hall and Middle Hall. Students often hung out here between or before classes. I avoided it like the fuckin' plague, except when I had to get to my locker. Which was past the glass doors to the north, which were closed. The yard went further in to the east, where I could see the cafeteria doors. To the west, around the corner of North Hall, was the main gate to the campus. South was the porch in front of my study hall; to the southwest was the main parking lot. >w I walked around the corner to the main gate of the campus. Main Gateway I was now on the south side of the front gate onto the campus, which was flanked by a tall fence. Soft white light, from the tennis court to the west, and the street lights on Russel Street, to the north, cast an eerie glow over the pavement. To the southeast was the entrance to Middle Hall, and my study hall. Southwest and south was the main parking lot. Around the corner of North Hall, to the east, was the north courtyard of the school. >w I stepped back onto the tennis court. Tennis Court Our tennis court was lit by bulbs set along the top of the tall fences on the north and south sides. I guess that was in case someone tried to break into the sports storage door of the building to the west. But I certainly never saw any security cameras anywhere at this school. A short net spanned the court. To the east was the area of the lot in front of the main gate. A break between the fence and the building led out to the southwest whence I came. >w (first opening the wide door) It seemed to be locked. >sw Field House Front The parking lot was lit dimly by lights here and there. Only a few cars, probably belonging to the custodians, were there. The tennis court, to one side of the field house, was to the northeast. A metal stairway led to the upper floor of the house. The door to the auto shop building was to the northwest; it was next to the storage area to the north, where I emerged. To the southeast was more parking lot, and beyond that, the gym and football field; the fence around the track was to the west and south. To the east were the main school buildings. >e I couldn't go that way. >ne I stepped between the field house and the tall fence onto the tennis court. Tennis Court Our tennis court was lit by bulbs set along the top of the tall fences on the north and south sides. I guess that was in case someone tried to break into the sports storage door of the building to the west. But I certainly never saw any security cameras anywhere at this school. A short net spanned the court. To the east was the area of the lot in front of the main gate. A break between the fence and the building led out to the southwest whence I came. >e Main Gateway I was now on the south side of the front gate onto the campus, which was flanked by a tall fence. Soft white light, from the tennis court to the west, and the street lights on Russel Street, to the north, cast an eerie glow over the pavement. To the southeast was the entrance to Middle Hall, and my study hall. Southwest and south was the main parking lot. Around the corner of North Hall, to the east, was the north courtyard of the school. >s I walked further into the middle of the parking lot. School Parking I stood in the middle of the school parking lot, lit here and there by white street lights. I could see only the outlines of a few cars here, probably belonging to custodians. Or just abandoned. Whatever. To the northwest was the field house, where I first came onto the campus; to the north was the main gate. East was the porch in front of the study hall, in Middle Hall; northeast and southeast were the two courtyards to either side of it. To the south was the back gate, and the entrance to the gym and track. To the west and southwest was the tall fence around the track. >e Somehow I wasn't sure that I was done with the field house, yet. >se Somehow I wasn't sure that I was done with the field house, yet. >s Gridiron Entrance I was in another lighted part of the lot, with a few cars, working and abandoned, parked here and there. Another huge gate to the south was closed over a driveway--which was the back way off of the campus. To the west, through another small gate, was my school's football field and track. East was the side-door into the gym, which was closed. The way back to the main parking lot was north. Oddly, the small gate onto the field was open. >e (first opening the gym door) It seemed to be locked. >w I stepped into the gate, and onto the track, which runs around the football field. I was startled by a jogger, going around the curve. "Hey, Tom! Having a nice night? I really love zee tlack at night! Don't you?" It was Mr Zimmermann, the German teacher. He took off northward before I could say anything. I saw a bulge in one of his pockets, and it was jingling and jostling around as he ran; a flash of metal told me that it held his keys. Of course, he couldn't be the kidnapper, not with that accent. Or could he?? This kind of fuckin' thinking made me crazy. Track, southeast I stood on the southeast curve of my school's six-lane track, which encircled our football field, and stretched westward, curving to the north from here. The field was bathed in lights, which topped the very tall fence; as they were focused on the field, I could hardly see anything that might be on or in the bleachers. To the southwest was the steps up into the south side bleachers. The north side bleachers were, of course, to the north. The field loomed to the northwest. Mr Zimmermann, my school's German teacher, was looking for something. >save Ok. >talk to zimmermann Ziggy gave me a smiling nod. >i I was carrying: a drill rifle a ten-dollar bill a torn note Anne's diary a wire hanger, untwisted into a long wire my acoustic guitar (being worn) a flashlight (providing light) a green backpack (open) a receipt an oven glove a credit card Will's note my keyring my house key my locker key a pack of Vance peanut butter crackers my ripped notebook my green pencil my usual threads (being worn) My pocket was empty. >shoot zimmermann What do you want to shoot Mr Zimmermann at? >shoot rifle at zimmermann Though I was amused at the thought of pretending to shoot Mr Zimmermann, actually doing so might be freakin' uncool. >play guitar I began slowly picking one of my favorite songs--Ricky Nelson's "Hello MaryLou". Immediately I felt more relaxed. >open pack I definitely wasn't hungry at that time. >give all to zimmermann You can't use multiple objects with that verb. >x zimmermann Zigmund 'Ziggy' Zimmerman. He was the German teacher at my school. Today he was wearing shorts, sneakers and a blue teeshirt. A large bald head, glasses and thick dark facial hair completed the picture. >x ziggy Zigmund 'Ziggy' Zimmerman. He was the German teacher at my school. Today he was wearing shorts, sneakers and a blue teeshirt. A large bald head, glasses and thick dark facial hair completed the picture. >ask ziggy about ziggy He seemed more interested in finding what he was looking for. >ask ziggy about looking He seemed more interested in finding what he was looking for. >talk to ziggy I don't "greet" during conversation. >say hi I was already talking to Mr Zimmermann. >lost That's not a verb I recognize. >ask ziggy about lost He seemed more interested in finding what he was looking for. >ask ziggy about finding He seemed more interested in finding what he was looking for. >l Track, southeast I stood on the southeast curve of my school's six-lane track, which encircled our football field, and stretched westward, curving to the north from here. The field was bathed in lights, which topped the very tall fence; as they were focused on the field, I could hardly see anything that might be on or in the bleachers. To the southwest was the steps up into the south side bleachers. The north side bleachers were, of course, to the north. The field loomed to the northwest. Mr Zimmermann, my school's German teacher, was looking for something. >x field I couldn't see any such thing. >nw There was no way I was going to cross the field diagonally, just to get to the other bleachers; going north seemed a better choice for that. >sw I climbed the steps up into the bleachers. South Side Bleachers, lower level I was surrounded by bleachers in all directions. I could see the north side bleachers, across the field; they were absolutely blank. Steps went up this center aisle, up to the top, where I saw the announcer's booth. The exit back to the track was northeast from here. >search bleachers Which do you mean, the north side bleachers or the south side bleachers? >south I stepped back and saw a darkened building set in the center at the top. As this side is the "Home"--my school's--side of the field, that building must be the announcer's booth, where the announcer and reporters watched the game. I noted that the bleachers on the other side did not have a building like that. >u I climbed the steps up to the top of the bleachers, where I saw absolutely friggin' nothing. I started to stomp back down in absolute rage, when it occurred to me that that creep could be in the announcer's booth, watching me fret and loving it. I had to figure out how to get in. Or I could try the top of the bleachers on the other side, though they looked utterly empty. South Side Bleachers, top level The field lights gleamed off of the hundreds of bleachers that were below me, northwards; an aisle of steps led down to the lower level. The door to the announcer's booth was on the south wall, flanked by broad windows. The door was closed. On the wall next to the door was what looked like an electronic sensor. >x sensor It looked like a little black plate with a tiny hole near the bottom and a readout over it. The readout said, 'LOCKED'. >put wire in hole I couldn't see any such thing. >put wire in sensor Abstract art was not my bag. >x hole I couldn't see any such thing. >x sensor It looked like a little black plate with a tiny hole near the bottom and a readout over it. The readout said, 'LOCKED'. >x hole I couldn't see any such thing. >s (first opening the booth door) It seemed to be locked. >x door The booth door was narrow, but heavy-looking, and painted black. It was closed. >push sensor It was fixed in place. >x window A couple of huge plate glass windows. In the dim lighting, inside, I could see only a tabletop--under either window--and a few chairbacks. I could also see a dark doorway in back. Could the Creep be in there?? >look through window A couple of huge plate glass windows. In the dim lighting, inside, I could see only a tabletop--under either window--and a few chairbacks. I could also see a dark doorway in back. Could the Creep be in there?? >smash window I much prefer to make verbal attacks. >enter window Breaking and entering was not my specialty. Besides, these were plate glass. >s (first opening the booth door) It seemed to be locked. >d I skipped down the steps back to the center. South Side Bleachers, lower level I was surrounded by bleachers in all directions. I could see the north side bleachers, across the field; they were absolutely blank. Steps went up this center aisle, up to the top, where I saw the announcer's booth. The exit back to the track was northeast from here. >ne I skipped down the steps and stepped back down onto the track. Track, southeast I stood on the southeast curve of my school's six-lane track, which encircled our football field, and stretched westward, curving to the north from here. The field was bathed in lights, which topped the very tall fence; as they were focused on the field, I could hardly see anything that might be on or in the bleachers. To the southwest was the steps up into the south side bleachers. The north side bleachers were, of course, to the north. The field loomed to the northwest. >n I walked along the track towards the other bleachers on the north side. Track, northeast The exact reflection of the other side, except for the announcer's booth, which was at the top of the south side. This side, we had only the bleachers, whose steps were to the northwest. The track came here from the west, and curved around to the south towards the gate I came in from. >search bleachers Which do you mean, the north side bleachers or the south side bleachers? >n I only understood you as far as wanting to search north. >search bleachers Which do you mean, the north side bleachers or the south side bleachers? >north I could really only see the steps up into them and the bleachers nearby. I stepped back and saw only bleachers in the dim light, all the way to the top. There was no announcer's booth on that side, like on the south side. >nw I climbed the steps into the bleachers, walking westward towards the other end, searching around and looking upwards. I saw nothing, no kidnapper, no Anne. But I had not yet gotten up to the top. Then I walked the steps up the center aisle, to the exact middle of the bleachers. North Side Bleachers, lower level I was surrounded by bleachers in all directions. I could see the south side bleachers, across the field; the announcer's building there was dark in the glare of the surrounding lights. Steps went up this center aisle, up to the top. The exit back to the track was southeast from here. >u I climbed the steps up to the top of the bleachers, where I saw absolutely nothing. Not even another stupid note. I thought maybe I should somehow check the announcer's booth. North Side Bleachers, top level I stood in the center of the top level, above a mountain of metal bleachers, and an aisle of steps leading downward. I could see the dark area at the top of the bleachers on the other side of the field, which was the announcer's booth. >d I skipped down the steps back to the center. North Side Bleachers, lower level I was surrounded by bleachers in all directions. I could see the south side bleachers, across the field; the announcer's building there was dark in the glare of the surrounding lights. Steps went up this center aisle, up to the top. The exit back to the track was southeast from here. >se I skipped down the steps and stepped back down onto the track. Track, northeast The exact reflection of the other side, except for the announcer's booth, which was at the top of the south side. This side, we had only the bleachers, whose steps were to the northwest. The track came here from the west, and curved around to the south towards the gate I came in from. Mr Zimmermann, my school's German teacher, was looking for something. >s I walked along the track towards the other bleachers on the south side. Track, southeast I stood on the southeast curve of my school's six-lane track, which encircled our football field, and stretched westward, curving to the north from here. The field was bathed in lights, which topped the very tall fence; as they were focused on the field, I could hardly see anything that might be on or in the bleachers. To the southwest was the steps up into the south side bleachers. The north side bleachers were, of course, to the north. The field loomed to the northwest. >n I walked along the track towards the other bleachers on the north side. Mr Zimmermann caught up with me and was passing me as I walked. Track, northeast The exact reflection of the other side, except for the announcer's booth, which was at the top of the south side. This side, we had only the bleachers, whose steps were to the northwest. The track came here from the west, and curved around to the south towards the gate I came in from. Mr Zimmermann, my school's German teacher, was looking for something. >i I was carrying: a drill rifle a ten-dollar bill a torn note Anne's diary a wire hanger, untwisted into a long wire my acoustic guitar (being worn) a flashlight (providing light) a green backpack (open) a receipt an oven glove a credit card Will's note my keyring my house key my locker key a pack of Vance peanut butter crackers my ripped notebook my green pencil my usual threads (being worn) My pocket was empty. >give rifle to ziggy Ziggy gave me a questioning look, like he wasn't interested. >give bill to ziggy Ziggy gave me a questioning look, like he wasn't interested. >give note to ziggy (the torn note to Mr Zimmermann) Ziggy gave me a questioning look, like he wasn't interested. >give diary to ziggy Ziggy gave me a questioning look. He must not be the kidnapper...?? >give wire to ziggy Ziggy gave me a questioning look, like he wasn't interested. >give guitar to ziggy Ziggy gave me a questioning look, like he wasn't interested. >give flashlight (to Mr Zimmermann) Ziggy gave me a questioning look, like he wasn't interested. >give receipt (to Mr Zimmermann) (first taking the receipt) Got it. Ziggy gave me a questioning look, like he wasn't interested. >give glove (to Mr Zimmermann) (first taking the oven glove) Got it. Ziggy gave me a questioning look, like he wasn't interested. >give card (to Mr Zimmermann) (first taking the credit card) I was already carrying too much in my hands. >take card I was already carrying too much in my hands. >put all in backpack oven glove: I tossed the oven glove into the backpack. receipt: I tossed the receipt into the backpack. drill rifle: The drill rifle was too big to fit into the backpack. ten-dollar bill: I tossed the ten-dollar bill into the backpack. torn note: I tossed the torn note into the backpack. Anne's diary: I tossed Anne's diary into the backpack. wire hanger: I tossed the wire hanger into the backpack. flashlight: I tossed the flashlight into the backpack. >give card (to Mr Zimmermann) (first taking the credit card) Got it. Ziggy gave me a questioning look, like he wasn't interested. >i I was carrying: a credit card a drill rifle my acoustic guitar (being worn) a green backpack (open) a flashlight (providing light) a wire hanger, untwisted into a long wire Anne's diary a torn note a ten-dollar bill a receipt an oven glove Will's note my keyring my house key my locker key a pack of Vance peanut butter crackers my ripped notebook my green pencil my usual threads (being worn) My pocket was empty. >give pencil (to Mr Zimmermann) (first taking the green pencil) Got it. Ziggy gave me a questioning look, like he wasn't interested. >give pack (to Mr Zimmermann) (first taking the pack of Vance peanut butter crackers) Got it. Mr Zimmermann, while running, put up his hand. "No tanks. Ah em on zee diet!" he huffed. >give pizza I couldn't see any such thing. >x box I couldn't see any such thing. >i I was carrying: a pack of Vance peanut butter crackers my green pencil a credit card a drill rifle my acoustic guitar (being worn) a green backpack (open) a flashlight (providing light) a wire hanger, untwisted into a long wire Anne's diary a torn note a ten-dollar bill a receipt an oven glove Will's note my keyring my house key my locker key my ripped notebook my usual threads (being worn) My pocket was empty. >s I walked along the track towards the other bleachers on the south side. Mr Zimmermann caught up with me and was passing me as I walked. Track, southeast I stood on the southeast curve of my school's six-lane track, which encircled our football field, and stretched westward, curving to the north from here. The field was bathed in lights, which topped the very tall fence; as they were focused on the field, I could hardly see anything that might be on or in the bleachers. To the southwest was the steps up into the south side bleachers. The north side bleachers were, of course, to the north. The field loomed to the northwest. Mr Zimmermann, my school's German teacher, was looking for something. >x ziggy Zigmund 'Ziggy' Zimmerman. He was the German teacher at my school. Today he was wearing shorts, sneakers and a blue teeshirt. A large bald head, glasses and thick dark facial hair completed the picture. >push ziggy I much prefer to make verbal attacks. >e I stepped out of the gate, back onto the parking lot pavement. Gridiron Entrance I was in another lighted part of the lot, with a few cars, working and abandoned, parked here and there. Another huge gate to the south was closed over a driveway--which was the back way off of the campus. To the west, through another small gate, was my school's football field and track. East was the side-door into the gym, which was closed. The way back to the main parking lot was north. The small gate onto the field was open. >e (first opening the gym door) It seemed to be locked. >w I stepped into the gate, and onto the track, which runs around the football field. Track, southeast I stood on the southeast curve of my school's six-lane track, which encircled our football field, and stretched westward, curving to the north from here. The field was bathed in lights, which topped the very tall fence; as they were focused on the field, I could hardly see anything that might be on or in the bleachers. To the southwest was the steps up into the south side bleachers. The north side bleachers were, of course, to the north. The field loomed to the northwest. Mr Zimmermann, my school's German teacher, was looking for something. >think about ziggy He will probably want his keys back. >i I was carrying: a pack of Vance peanut butter crackers my green pencil a credit card a drill rifle my acoustic guitar (being worn) a green backpack (open) a flashlight (providing light) a wire hanger, untwisted into a long wire Anne's diary a torn note a ten-dollar bill a receipt an oven glove Will's note my keyring my house key my locker key my ripped notebook my usual threads (being worn) My pocket was empty. >x keys Which do you mean, Ziggy's gym keys or the keyring? >gym As they were in his pocket, they were hard to see. Likely, they were not on the same ring as his own personal keys. >take gym keys I wasn't very good at shit like that. >w I would have liked to walk the track, but exploring the bleachers seemed to be a priority. >sw I climbed the steps up into the bleachers. South Side Bleachers, lower level I was surrounded by bleachers in all directions. I could see the north side bleachers, across the field; they were absolutely blank. Steps went up this center aisle, up to the top, where I saw the announcer's booth. The exit back to the track was northeast from here. >u I climbed the steps up to the top of the bleachers, approaching the announcer's booth. South Side Bleachers, top level The field lights gleamed off of the hundreds of bleachers that were below me, northwards; an aisle of steps led down to the lower level. The door to the announcer's booth was on the south wall, flanked by broad windows. The door was closed. On the wall next to the door was what looked like an electronic sensor. >think about sensor I wondered what could trip this sensor? >put wire in sensor (first taking the wire hanger) Got it. Abstract art was not my bag. >x it It was once one of Anne's wire hangers. Now it's a handy tool for doing something. Maybe. >x sensor It looked like a little black plate with a tiny hole near the bottom and a readout over it. The readout said, 'LOCKED'. >open it It wasn't something I could open. >look under it I found nothing of interest. >x hole I couldn't see any such thing. >enter it That was not something I could enter. >d I skipped down the steps back to the center. South Side Bleachers, lower level I was surrounded by bleachers in all directions. I could see the north side bleachers, across the field; they were absolutely blank. Steps went up this center aisle, up to the top, where I saw the announcer's booth. The exit back to the track was northeast from here. >ne I skipped down the steps and stepped back down onto the track. Track, southeast I stood on the southeast curve of my school's six-lane track, which encircled our football field, and stretched westward, curving to the north from here. The field was bathed in lights, which topped the very tall fence; as they were focused on the field, I could hardly see anything that might be on or in the bleachers. To the southwest was the steps up into the south side bleachers. The north side bleachers were, of course, to the north. The field loomed to the northwest. >e I stepped out of the gate, back onto the parking lot pavement. Gridiron Entrance I was in another lighted part of the lot, with a few cars, working and abandoned, parked here and there. Another huge gate to the south was closed over a driveway--which was the back way off of the campus. To the west, through another small gate, was my school's football field and track. East was the side-door into the gym, which was closed. The way back to the main parking lot was north. The small gate onto the field was open. >n I stepped back out into the parking lot. School Parking I stood in the middle of the school parking lot, lit here and there by white street lights. I could see only the outlines of a few cars here, probably belonging to custodians. Or just abandoned. Whatever. To the northwest was the field house, where I first came onto the campus; to the north was the main gate. East was the porch in front of the study hall, in Middle Hall; northeast and southeast were the two courtyards to either side of it. To the south was the back gate, and the entrance to the gym and track. To the west and southwest was the tall fence around the track. >w There was only the fence in that direction. >nw I made my way back to the field house. Field House Front The parking lot was lit dimly by lights here and there. Only a few cars, probably belonging to the custodians, were there. The tennis court, to one side of the field house, was to the northeast. A metal stairway led to the upper floor of the house. The door to the auto shop building was to the northwest; it was next to the storage area to the north, where I emerged. To the southeast was more parking lot, and beyond that, the gym and football field; the fence around the track was to the west and south. To the east were the main school buildings. >u I grabbed the rail and began my slow, silent ascent upwards. This was the military area; my association with anything so regulated was tense to begin with. The door was open and I stepped in. JROTC Hall Junior Reserve Officers Training Corps, as it is known in many high schools. I called this Just ROTten to the Core Hall. But that was just my thing--I knew that we needed the military in our present world. I just didn't agree with how it was being used at the time. The east and west walls were covered with pictures of cadets, officers, plaques, and awards of all kinds. Open doorways led east and west. A blue pannelled door was to the northwest. To the north was a closed red door. The stairway led down back to the parking lot. I heard the sound of a television set coming from the door to the north. >think about red door (the red panelled door) I wondered who was in there. Could it be Eddie? I heard the sound of a television set coming from the door to the north. >n (first opening the red panelled door) I thought I probably should knock, first...?? I heard the sound of a television set coming from the door to the north. >think about eddie That might be one of the night custodians, I think his name is Eddie. I managed to get in, give him the right pizza, and get a ten! Let's see if my luck doesn't freakin' run out. I heard the sound of a television set coming from the door to the north. >think about tv Which do you mean, the flat-screen television or the TV set? >think about tv set Would be of some use if I could just find the controller. I heard the sound of a television set coming from the door to the north. >d Field House Front The parking lot was lit dimly by lights here and there. Only a few cars, probably belonging to the custodians, were there. The tennis court, to one side of the field house, was to the northeast. A metal stairway led to the upper floor of the house. The door to the auto shop building was to the northwest; it was next to the storage area to the north, where I emerged. To the southeast was more parking lot, and beyond that, the gym and football field; the fence around the track was to the west and south. To the east were the main school buildings. >nw The auto shop building was closed and locked for the week. I had no idea how I was going to get in and search it. >n Outdoor Storage This was a carport-like area at the field house, the part of the building where my school held its classes on handling and fixing outdoor equipment. Now at night, all the stuff was locked away in a large storage unit, whose door was to the east; this low-roofed area, where I was, was now empty. To the south was the seemingly-infinite parking lot. To the west was the blank wall of the auto shop building. >n Lonely Gate A single gate, about as tall as me, was set into the fence to the south here. I noticed that this part of the fence was behind the two-story field house of my school's military training program, and outdoor equipment courses. Even in the streetlight, however, the building was entirely in shadow. The tree-lined road continued west, past the rollup door to the Auto Shop garage; the main gate to the school was east from here. The padlock on the gate was unlocked. Just about anyone can friggin' go in, now. Another pizza box was lying on the ground, near the gate. >take all pizza box: Got it. >e Russel Street Lamb High sure looked different at night from during the day; the streetlights seemed to highlight the front fence and the gate, which did not blend in so well with the background school pavement as it had during the day. I could see the padlocked gate to the south--no hope of getting in through there. The fence stretched further west, along the road. East was the way back home. >e I walked east along the fence, past the rancid-smelling cafeteria back area, and then the trees, until they ended at a field, where the only feature was a ditch to either side of the road... Broad Field Here, the road went through a field of grass, leading east to the residential area which contained my parents' house and my bungalo. West, it led back to the school. To either side of the road was a large ditch. Streetlights guided me either way. >e I walked east back home. Again. My Front Yard Russel Street, from the west, ended just east of here, running into Virgil Road, which runs north-south. The front of my parents' house sported a number of awesome old trees, a large front deck, and an empty gravel driveway. Apparently, Mom and Dad took off early, and took both vehicles. My mom's flower beds occupied the space to either side of the deck. The steps up the deck were to the south; southwest was the trail around the house to my shack out back. Our rickety mailbox stood at the end of the driveway. Though it was night, I could see around me, given the streetlights that had come on at nightfall. >s I stepped up onto the deck of the house. On The Deck I was on my parents' front deck, and it was lit softly by light from streetlights which lined the road out front. The wood railing and nearly every spot on the deck was occupied by my Mom's colorful potted plants. Their deck chairs sat here astride the front door to the south, under an awning. A welcome mat lay on the floor at the door, which was closed. >s (first opening the white front door) It seemed to be locked. >unlock door Got it. I selected the house key from my keyring. I unlocked the front door with my key. >s (first opening the white front door) I pushed open the door to the house, and my nose was immediately assaulted with whatever cinnamon air freshener crap my mom used. Small Living Room As I said, the place was small. But it was cozy. Definitely good enough for Mom and Dad. It had central heating and air. Before me was all the usual living room stuff--a sofa, Dad's chair, TV set. No windows in here. Dad didn't like the idea of people lookin' in. Our kitchen was to the west; to the east was Mom and Dad's bedroom. The front door, which was hanging open, led back onto the deck to the north. >x tv set It was our old color television. Dad tore out the old channel dial and other controls and rigged it up to work with the controller he made. Of course, I didn't see the controller anywhere around, I wondered where he put it. >l Small Living Room As I said, the place was small. But it was cozy. Definitely good enough for Mom and Dad. It had central heating and air. Before me was all the usual living room stuff--a sofa, Dad's chair, TV set. No windows in here. Dad didn't like the idea of people lookin' in. Our kitchen was to the west; to the east was Mom and Dad's bedroom. The front door, which was hanging open, led back onto the deck to the north. >search sofa I looked around the couch, checking and reaching between the cushions, but found nothing there. >search chair I looked around the chair, checking and reaching between the cushions, but found nothing there. >look under chair I already looked, there was nothing there. I thought may be if I sat in the chair, what I was looking for would turn up...?? >sit in chair Though I had no plans of turning on the TV, I rested my haunches in Dad's chair. Predictably, the chair automatically reclined, and the foot rest popped up. I rarely ever sat in that chair, so I almost forgot it would do this. As it did that, I heard something clack to the floor. It was the remote controller for the TV. >take remote I'd have to get off my lazy ass to do that. >u I tried flapping my wings, with predictable results. >exit I got my ass up off Dad's chair. Sometimes he didn't like it when I had sat there. >take remote Got it. >x it A thing with some makeshift buttons that my dad rigged up to control the TV set. He didn't like having to get up to change the channel, so instead of just buying a remote controlled set, he set our old one up to respond to this controller, and made the controller himself. It has only one button to turn the thing on or off; one volume rocker switch to turn the volume up or down; and channel rocker switch to change the channel. The funny thing about this controller is that, though it works all the time on our set, I always wondered whether it would trip other devices....?? [To use the remote controller, type PUSH POWER BUTTON to turn on the TV, or turn it off; VOLUME UP/DOWN to adjust the volume; and CHANNEL UP/DOWN to change the channel.] >push power button I totally did not feel like watching television at that time. I was barely interested earlier. >n On The Deck I was on my parents' front deck, and it was lit softly by light from streetlights which lined the road out front. The wood railing and nearly every spot on the deck was occupied by my Mom's colorful potted plants. Their deck chairs sat here astride the front door to the south, under an awning. A welcome mat lay on the floor at the door, which was hanging open >n Duh, I wasn't about to leave the house with the front door open; I closed and locked the door. I stepped back down into the yard. My Front Yard Russel Street, from the west, ended just east of here, running into Virgil Road, which runs north-south. The front of my parents' house sported a number of awesome old trees, a large front deck, and an empty gravel driveway. Apparently, Mom and Dad took off early, and took both vehicles. My mom's flower beds occupied the space to either side of the deck. The steps up the deck were to the south; southwest was the trail around the house to my shack out back. Our rickety mailbox stood at the end of the driveway. Though it was night, I could see around me, given the streetlights that had come on at nightfall. >w Broad Field Here, the road went through a field of grass, leading east to the residential area which contained my parents' house and my bungalo. West, it led back to the school. To either side of the road was a large ditch. Streetlights guided me either way. >w I approached the school. Russel Street Lamb High sure looked different at night from during the day; the streetlights seemed to highlight the front fence and the gate, which did not blend in so well with the background school pavement as it had during the day. I could see the padlocked gate to the south--no hope of getting in through there. The fence stretched further west, along the road. East was the way back home. >w Lonely Gate A single gate, about as tall as me, was set into the fence to the south here. I noticed that this part of the fence was behind the two-story field house of my school's military training program, and outdoor equipment courses. Even in the streetlight, however, the building was entirely in shadow. The tree-lined road continued west, past the rollup door to the Auto Shop garage; the main gate to the school was east from here. The padlock on the gate was unlocked. Just about anyone can friggin' go in, now. >s I stepped into the gate, and into the shadows. I let my eyes adjust to the new lighting situation. Outdoor Storage This was a carport-like area at the field house, the part of the building where my school held its classes on handling and fixing outdoor equipment. Now at night, all the stuff was locked away in a large storage unit, whose door was to the east; this low-roofed area, where I was, was now empty. To the south was the seemingly-infinite parking lot. To the west was the blank wall of the auto shop building. >s Field House Front The parking lot was lit dimly by lights here and there. Only a few cars, probably belonging to the custodians, were there. The tennis court, to one side of the field house, was to the northeast. A metal stairway led to the upper floor of the house. The door to the auto shop building was to the northwest; it was next to the storage area to the north, where I emerged. To the southeast was more parking lot, and beyond that, the gym and football field; the fence around the track was to the west and south. To the east were the main school buildings. >u I grabbed the rail and began my slow, silent ascent upwards. This was the military area; my association with anything so regulated was tense to begin with. The door was open and I stepped in. JROTC Hall Junior Reserve Officers Training Corps, as it is known in many high schools. I called this Just ROTten to the Core Hall. But that was just my thing--I knew that we needed the military in our present world. I just didn't agree with how it was being used at the time. The east and west walls were covered with pictures of cadets, officers, plaques, and awards of all kinds. Open doorways led east and west. A blue pannelled door was to the northwest. To the north was a closed red door. The stairway led down back to the parking lot. I heard the sound of a television set coming from the door to the north. >x remote A thing with some makeshift buttons that my dad rigged up to control the TV set. He didn't like having to get up to change the channel, so instead of just buying a remote controlled set, he set our old one up to respond to this controller, and made the controller himself. It has only one button to turn the thing on or off; one volume rocker switch to turn the volume up or down; and channel rocker switch to change the channel. The funny thing about this controller is that, though it works all the time on our set, I always wondered whether it would trip other devices....?? [To use the remote controller, type PUSH POWER BUTTON to turn on the TV, or turn it off; VOLUME UP/DOWN to adjust the volume; and CHANNEL UP/DOWN to change the channel.] I heard the sound of a television set coming from the door to the north. >volume down There's no TV here, much less ours. Dah. I heard the sound of a television set coming from the door to the north. >push power button I pushed the power button; no telling what it might trip. But nothing happened. I heard the sound of a television set coming from the door to the north. >channel up There's no TV here, much less ours. Dah. I heard the sound of a television set coming from the door to the north. >n (first opening the red panelled door) I thought I probably should knock, first...?? I heard the sound of a television set coming from the door to the north. >save Ok. >i I was carrying: a remote controller my keyring my house key my locker key a pizza box (closed) a wire hanger, untwisted into a long wire a pack of Vance peanut butter crackers my green pencil a credit card a drill rifle my acoustic guitar (being worn) a green backpack (open) a flashlight (providing light) Anne's diary a torn note a ten-dollar bill a receipt an oven glove Will's note my ripped notebook my usual threads (being worn) My pocket was empty. I heard the sound of a television set coming from the door to the north. >put all but box in backpack remote controller: I tossed the remote controller into the backpack. keyring: I tossed the keyring into the backpack. wire hanger: I tossed the wire hanger into the backpack. pack of Vance peanut butter crackers: I tossed the pack of Vance peanut butter crackers into the backpack. green pencil: I tossed the green pencil into the backpack. credit card: I tossed the credit card into the backpack. drill rifle: The drill rifle was too big to fit into the backpack. I heard the sound of a television set coming from the door to the north. >i I was carrying: a pizza box (closed) a drill rifle my acoustic guitar (being worn) a green backpack (open) a credit card my green pencil a pack of Vance peanut butter crackers a wire hanger, untwisted into a long wire my keyring my house key my locker key a remote controller a flashlight (providing light) Anne's diary a torn note a ten-dollar bill a receipt an oven glove Will's note my ripped notebook my usual threads (being worn) My pocket was empty. I heard the sound of a television set coming from the door to the north. >knock red door I didn't feel right about doing that, without being fuckin' sure of who would answer it. I heard the sound of a television set coming from the door to the north. >e Rifle Range If I understood it correctly, this huge room was used for practicing marksmanship, a skill that every cadet had to learn. Targets would be placed at the south end, and pellet rifles would be used by cadets in various positions at the north end of the room. This room was also used to teach drill with fake weapons. I know this because I saw pictures of it in the yearbook. Those cadets would do some fancy shit during our school parades and other events. A large window at the north end of the room looked into another room; I guess this was where students and instructors could watch what was going on on the range. A doorway led west into the hall. I could just barely hear the sound of a television set coming from the north. >x window That window looked into another classroom, where there were student desks; but when I went up to the window for a closer look, I could also see the teacher's desk, where I saw Eddie sitting, with his back to me. He was watching a classroom television set, probably using the VCR under it, and munching on the burnt pizza I had brought him, from the pizza box laying open on the desk. A set of keys was also laying on the desk, beside the box. Though Eddie was super-focused on his TV program, I stepped away before he could see me. Luckily, or not, I could not see Anne anywhere in the room. I could just barely hear the sound of a television set coming from the north. >nw I couldn't go that way. I could just barely hear the sound of a television set coming from the north. >w JROTC Hall Junior Reserve Officers Training Corps, as it is known in many high schools. I called this Just ROTten to the Core Hall. But that was just my thing--I knew that we needed the military in our present world. I just didn't agree with how it was being used at the time. The east and west walls were covered with pictures of cadets, officers, plaques, and awards of all kinds. Open doorways led east and west. A blue pannelled door was to the northwest. To the north was a closed red door. The stairway led down back to the parking lot. I heard the sound of a television set coming from the door to the north. >knock red door With the pizza box in hand, and loaded with yet another burnt pizza, I knocked on the door. Immediately, the television was turned way down. As the door came open, I heard Eddie say, "Hey George, I was just taking a break and--". Then his eyes screwed up. "You...??" Then he slapped his head. "I must have forgot to lock that stupid gate." I almost told him that he won a bonus pizza, but that didn't seem like the kind of thing to say when you want to borrow his set of keys for a minute. So I had to think fast. Suddenly, I had an idea. "Um, Mister, Ed, Eddie? I am a student here, and I just remembered that I might have left a very important project in the machine storage room downstairs. If I give you this--well-cooked--pizza, for FREE!, would you be willing to loan me your set of keys for a minute?" Eddie thought for only one second. "Hey dude, I'll go you one better. Two better. I will let you have my spare set of keys, and you can keep the pizza--if you will lock the small gate for me, and not tell my co-workers about it? You can return the keys to me later. Also, I won't tell a soul you're here on campus. I didn't see nothin', you didn't see nothin'! Sound like a deal?" He gave me his spare set from his pocket. I fuckin' lucked out. But probably only for this building. But whatever. I took the keys, and he gave me a wink. He closed the door, it clicked locked, and the TV sound went up again. I heard the sound of a television set coming from the door to the north. That's exactly what I did! I got a spare set of keys for nothing. You earned 5 points for helping me remember! >l JROTC Hall Junior Reserve Officers Training Corps, as it is known in many high schools. I called this Just ROTten to the Core Hall. But that was just my thing--I knew that we needed the military in our present world. I just didn't agree with how it was being used at the time. The east and west walls were covered with pictures of cadets, officers, plaques, and awards of all kinds. Open doorways led east and west. A blue pannelled door was to the northwest. To the north was a closed red door. The stairway led down back to the parking lot. I heard the sound of a television set coming from the door to the north. >d Field House Front The parking lot was lit dimly by lights here and there. Only a few cars, probably belonging to the custodians, were there. The tennis court, to one side of the field house, was to the northeast. A metal stairway led to the upper floor of the house. The door to the auto shop building was to the northwest; it was next to the storage area to the north, where I emerged. To the southeast was more parking lot, and beyond that, the gym and football field; the fence around the track was to the west and south. To the east were the main school buildings. >n Outdoor Storage This was a carport-like area at the field house, the part of the building where my school held its classes on handling and fixing outdoor equipment. Now at night, all the stuff was locked away in a large storage unit, whose door was to the east; this low-roofed area, where I was, was now empty. To the south was the seemingly-infinite parking lot. To the west was the blank wall of the auto shop building. >unlock door It looked like I would need a key for that. >unlock door with keys (the spare keys) I tried each key on the ring until I found the one that snapped the little lock at the bottom open. >n Lonely Gate A single gate, about as tall as me, was set into the fence to the south here. I noticed that this part of the fence was behind the two-story field house of my school's military training program, and outdoor equipment courses. Even in the streetlight, however, the building was entirely in shadow. The tree-lined road continued west, past the rollup door to the Auto Shop garage; the main gate to the school was east from here. The padlock on the gate was unlocked. Just about anyone can friggin' go in, now. >s I stepped into the gate, and into the shadows. I let my eyes adjust to the new lighting situation. Outdoor Storage This was a carport-like area at the field house, the part of the building where my school held its classes on handling and fixing outdoor equipment. Now at night, all the stuff was locked away in a large storage unit, whose door was to the east; this low-roofed area, where I was, was now empty. To the south was the seemingly-infinite parking lot. To the west was the blank wall of the auto shop building. >e (first opening the storage door) I bent over and tried to lift it, but the door would not budge. I thought I had unlocked it. It must be stuck. Fuckin' bummer. Maybe there was another way into that storage space? It probably would have made a lot of noise anyways. >s Field House Front The parking lot was lit dimly by lights here and there. Only a few cars, probably belonging to the custodians, were there. The tennis court, to one side of the field house, was to the northeast. A metal stairway led to the upper floor of the house. The door to the auto shop building was to the northwest; it was next to the storage area to the north, where I emerged. To the southeast was more parking lot, and beyond that, the gym and football field; the fence around the track was to the west and south. To the east were the main school buildings. >ne I stepped between the field house and the tall fence onto the tennis court. Tennis Court Our tennis court was lit by bulbs set along the top of the tall fences on the north and south sides. I guess that was in case someone tried to break into the sports storage door of the building to the west. But I certainly never saw any security cameras anywhere at this school. A short net spanned the court. To the east was the area of the lot in front of the main gate. A break between the fence and the building led out to the southwest whence I came. >unlock door I looked like I'd need a key for that. >unlock door with keys (the spare keys) I tried each key until I found the correct one, which clicked the lock open. >open door I slowly pulled the door open. The hinges creaked. >w I stepped anxiously into the storage room. Sports Storage Room I knew from PE that this room must have been full of stuff, but I didn't know that it was such a fuckin' mess. Cans of tennis balls, tennis rackets, baseball bats, gloves, balls, padding, nets were piled everywhere here, against the black tar walls. I was surprised that none of it fell out when I opened the door. An outdoor basketball hoop, set on casters, was against the west wall. East was the way back out to the tennis court. >take all There were none at all available! >x hoop I found it curious that this thing was here. Though it WAS an outdoor hoop. I guess because there didn't seem to be any basketballs here. >take it As I got closer to the hoop, I noticed a small black door behind it. It was hard to see against the black tar of the walls; I never knew it was there. I wondered what it would lead into? I heaved the hoop aside to unblock the door. That's exactly what I did! I unblocked a hidden door. You earned 5 points for helping me remember! >open door Which do you mean, the small black door or the wide door? >small The door squeaked a bit as it opened. >w Machine Storage Lots of lawn care and heavy campus equipment was kept here; as were the many inventions of my fellow students. Sadly, it was totally lost on me. The rollup door leading outside to the small gate was to the west; the door I came in from was to the east. What was not lost on me was the crumpled piece of paper, left on one of the riding mowers. Its large red letters got my attention. >take paper (the crumpled note) Got it. >read it In red sharpie, readable only because it was so large, it read-- HELLO TOM OR, SHOULD I SAY, FUMBLE! DID YOU REALLY THINK I WAS STUPID ENOUGH TO HIDE SO CLOSE TO THE GATE? HA HA YOU'RE NOT FRUSTRATED, ARE YOU? WELL TOUGH TITTIES! SPEAKING OF WHICH, I'VE GOT YOUR WHORE ALL TIED UP. SO TO SPEAK! IS SHE WITH ME? MAYBE! I KNOW YOU DISLIKE ANYTHING THAT TAKES EFFORT, SO I'LL HELP YOU OUT A BIT. MEET ME AT THE TOP OF THE BLEACHERS, AND WE'LL DECIDE WHAT TO DO, NEXT. YOUR OLD(?) FRIEND. The bleachers, hunh? Did that mean he was at the gym? Or the football field? And which side? Shit. Well, he said 'fumble'--that must mean the football field!? And he might not have Anne with him? Well, my only way of knowing where she was seemed to be to go ahead and fuckin' face him. At the field. >x equipment Lots of non-descript metal machinery. >e Sports Storage Room I knew from PE that this room must have been full of stuff, but I didn't know that it was such a fuckin' mess. Cans of tennis balls, tennis rackets, baseball bats, gloves, balls, padding, nets were piled everywhere here, against the black tar walls. I was surprised that none of it fell out when I opened the door. An outdoor basketball hoop, set on casters, was next to a small black door in the west wall. East was the way back out to the tennis court. >e Tennis Court Our tennis court was lit by bulbs set along the top of the tall fences on the north and south sides. I guess that was in case someone tried to break into the sports storage door of the building to the west. But I certainly never saw any security cameras anywhere at this school. A short net spanned the court. To the east was the area of the lot in front of the main gate. A break between the fence and the building led out to the southwest whence I came. >sw Field House Front The parking lot was lit dimly by lights here and there. Only a few cars, probably belonging to the custodians, were there. The tennis court, to one side of the field house, was to the northeast. A metal stairway led to the upper floor of the house. The door to the auto shop building was to the northwest; it was next to the storage area to the north, where I emerged. To the southeast was more parking lot, and beyond that, the gym and football field; the fence around the track was to the west and south. To the east were the main school buildings. >se I walked out into the parking lot. I made my way towards the football field, across the parking lot. School Parking I stood in the middle of the school parking lot, lit here and there by white street lights. I could see only the outlines of a few cars here, probably belonging to custodians. Or just abandoned. Whatever. To the northwest was the field house, where I first came onto the campus; to the north was the main gate. East was the porch in front of the study hall, in Middle Hall; northeast and southeast were the two courtyards to either side of it. To the south was the back gate, and the entrance to the gym and track. To the west and southwest was the tall fence around the track. >s Gridiron Entrance I was in another lighted part of the lot, with a few cars, working and abandoned, parked here and there. Another huge gate to the south was closed over a driveway--which was the back way off of the campus. To the west, through another small gate, was my school's football field and track. East was the side-door into the gym, which was closed. The way back to the main parking lot was north. The small gate onto the field was open. >w I stepped into the gate, and onto the track, which runs around the football field. Track, southeast I stood on the southeast curve of my school's six-lane track, which encircled our football field, and stretched westward, curving to the north from here. The field was bathed in lights, which topped the very tall fence; as they were focused on the field, I could hardly see anything that might be on or in the bleachers. To the southwest was the steps up into the south side bleachers. The north side bleachers were, of course, to the north. The field loomed to the northwest. Mr Zimmermann, my school's German teacher, was jogging around the track. Mr Zimmermann had passed me, making his way around the curve going north. >n I walked along the track towards the other bleachers on the north side. Track, northeast The exact reflection of the other side, except for the announcer's booth, which was at the top of the south side. This side, we had only the bleachers, whose steps were to the northwest. The track came here from the west, and curved around to the south towards the gate I came in from. Mr Zimmermann, my school's German teacher, was jogging around the track. Mr Zimmermann was now in the northwest section of the track, going westward. >nw I climbed the steps into the bleachers, walking westward towards the other end. Then I walked the steps up the center aisle, to the exact middle of the bleachers. North Side Bleachers, lower level I was surrounded by bleachers in all directions. I could see the south side bleachers, across the field; the announcer's building there was dark in the glare of the surrounding lights. Steps went up this center aisle, up to the top. The exit back to the track was southeast from here. Mr Zimmermann, my school's German teacher, was jogging around the track, below. Mr Zimmermann was about to reach the west end of the track, going southward. >n I climbed the steps up to the top of the bleachers. I thought maybe I should somehow check the announcer's booth. North Side Bleachers, top level I stood in the center of the top level, above a mountain of metal bleachers, and an aisle of steps leading downward. I could see the dark area at the top of the bleachers on the other side of the field, which was the announcer's booth. Mr Zimmermann, my school's German teacher, was jogging around the track, below. Mr Zimmermann was rounding the west end of the track, going southward. >s I skipped down the steps back to the center. North Side Bleachers, lower level I was surrounded by bleachers in all directions. I could see the south side bleachers, across the field; the announcer's building there was dark in the glare of the surrounding lights. Steps went up this center aisle, up to the top. The exit back to the track was southeast from here. Mr Zimmermann, my school's German teacher, was jogging around the track, below. Mr Zimmermann was completing the west curve of the track, turning eastward. >se I skipped down the steps and stepped back down onto the track. Track, northeast The exact reflection of the other side, except for the announcer's booth, which was at the top of the south side. This side, we had only the bleachers, whose steps were to the northwest. The track came here from the west, and curved around to the south towards the gate I came in from. Mr Zimmermann, my school's German teacher, was jogging around the track. Mr Zimmermann was now on the south side of the track, jogging eastward. >s I walked along the track towards the other bleachers on the south side. Mr Zimmermann caught up with me and was passing me as I walked. Track, southeast I stood on the southeast curve of my school's six-lane track, which encircled our football field, and stretched westward, curving to the north from here. The field was bathed in lights, which topped the very tall fence; as they were focused on the field, I could hardly see anything that might be on or in the bleachers. To the southwest was the steps up into the south side bleachers. The north side bleachers were, of course, to the north. The field loomed to the northwest. Mr Zimmermann, my school's German teacher, was jogging around the track. Mr Zimmermann had passed me, making his way around the curve going north. >sw I climbed the steps up into the bleachers. South Side Bleachers, lower level I was surrounded by bleachers in all directions. I could see the north side bleachers, across the field; they were absolutely blank. Steps went up this center aisle, up to the top, where I saw the announcer's booth. The exit back to the track was northeast from here. Mr Zimmermann, my school's German teacher, was jogging around the track, below. Mr Zimmermann was completing the eastern curve of the track, going northward. >u I climbed the steps up to the top of the bleachers, approaching the announcer's booth. South Side Bleachers, top level The field lights gleamed off of the hundreds of bleachers that were below me, northwards; an aisle of steps led down to the lower level. The door to the announcer's booth was on the south wall, flanked by broad windows. The door was closed. On the wall next to the door was what looked like an electronic sensor. Mr Zimmermann, my school's German teacher, was jogging around the track, below. Mr Zimmermann was starting on the north stretch of the track, going westward. >l South Side Bleachers, top level The field lights gleamed off of the hundreds of bleachers that were below me, northwards; an aisle of steps led down to the lower level. The door to the announcer's booth was on the south wall, flanked by broad windows. The door was closed. On the wall next to the door was what looked like an electronic sensor. Mr Zimmermann, my school's German teacher, was jogging around the track, below. Mr Zimmermann was going westward along the north stretch of the track. >x door The booth door was narrow, but heavy-looking, and painted black. It was closed. Mr Zimmermann, my school's German teacher, was jogging around the track, below. Mr Zimmermann was now in the northwest section of the track, going westward. >x senson I couldn't see any such thing. >x sensor It looked like a little black plate with a tiny hole near the bottom and a readout over it. The readout said, 'LOCKED'. Mr Zimmermann, my school's German teacher, was jogging around the track, below. Mr Zimmermann was about to reach the west end of the track, going southward. >i I was carrying: a crumpled note some spare keys a pizza box (closed) a drill rifle my acoustic guitar (being worn) a green backpack (open) a credit card my green pencil a pack of Vance peanut butter crackers a wire hanger, untwisted into a long wire my keyring my house key my locker key a remote controller a flashlight (providing light) Anne's diary a torn note a ten-dollar bill a receipt an oven glove Will's note my ripped notebook my usual threads (being worn) My pocket was empty. Mr Zimmermann, my school's German teacher, was jogging around the track, below. Mr Zimmermann was rounding the west end of the track, going southward. >take remot I couldn't see any such thing. >take remote Got it. Mr Zimmermann, my school's German teacher, was jogging around the track, below. Mr Zimmermann was completing the west curve of the track, turning eastward. >push power Just to see if it would work, I pushed the power button on Dad's remote. I heard a 'click' come from the door, and the readout on the sensor changed! Damn! What were the odds? Mr Zimmermann, my school's German teacher, was jogging around the track, below. Mr Zimmermann was now on the south side of the track, jogging eastward. That's exactly what I did! I found another use for the TV remote. You earned 5 points for helping me remember! >open door I pushed the door open. It immediately started swinging back slowly. Mr Zimmermann, my school's German teacher, was jogging around the track, below. Mr Zimmermann was now jogging eastward along the south stretch of the track. >s Before I went in, I looked down at Mr Zimmermann, to make sure he didn't see me go in. When I stepped into the booth, immediately I noticed something out of place. Just under one of the tabletops, out of view from the windows, was one of those hurdles that they use on the track, for runners to jump over. Propped up against it was another stupid piece of paper, with writing on it. Please press SPACE to continue. I picked up the paper, and read it--it was in large red letters-- WHOOPSIE! I SHOULD HAVE TOLD YOU TO MEET ME AT THE TOP OF THE GYM BLEACHERS!! WELL, THIS IS JUST ONE MORE HURDLE YOU'LL HAVE TO GET OVER! HA HA HA I was so fuckin' pissed, I was beginning to think that this was all some sort of joke. Well, it was, for that idiot. For me, this was a nightmare. Now, I had to figure out how to get into the gym, which was probably locked. Announcer's Booth This was just a surprisingly plain room, with two windows looking out over the field and track, dim light coming through them. Each window had a table under it, and two chairs. The sound system equipment was probably stashed somewhere under the tables or locked away--not that I was really interested in using it. To the south was a dark doorway. Standing on the floor between two of the chairs was a runner's hurdle. Mr Zimmermann, my school's German teacher, was jogging around the track, below. Mr Zimmermann was beginning to turn northward, going along the eastern curve of the track. >take hurdle I grabbed the hurdle by the top bar. It was light, but bulky. I probably wasn't going to carry it around a lot. Mr Zimmermann, my school's German teacher, was jogging around the track, below. Mr Zimmermann was now making the turn along the east end of the track, moving northward. I heard another click from the door, as the door swung closed. >s Though I had seen the note, I stepped into the darkness with some anxiety. I thought I might be in for a surprise. Sportsmen's Can Only to find out that it was just the announcer's john. What a friggin' false alarm. It had all of the usual fixtures here. Nothing more. The door, to the north, was open. >n Announcer's Booth This was just a surprisingly plain room, with two windows looking out over the field and track, dim light coming through them. Each window had a table under it, and two chairs. The sound system equipment was probably stashed somewhere under the tables or locked away--not that I was really interested in using it. To the south was a dark doorway. Mr Zimmermann, my school's German teacher, was jogging around the track, below. Mr Zimmermann was now going around the eastern curve of the track. >n (first opening the booth door) It seemed to be locked. Mr Zimmermann, my school's German teacher, was jogging around the track, below. Mr Zimmermann was completing the eastern curve of the track, going northward. >push power I pushed the power button again, and heard another click from the door. Mr Zimmermann, my school's German teacher, was jogging around the track, below. Mr Zimmermann was starting on the north stretch of the track, going westward. >n (first opening the booth door) I pulled the door open. It immediately started swinging back slowly. South Side Bleachers, top level The field lights gleamed off of the hundreds of bleachers that were below me, northwards; an aisle of steps led down to the lower level. The door to the announcer's booth was on the south wall, flanked by broad windows. The door was open, and slowly swinging closed. On the wall next to the door was what looked like an electronic sensor. Mr Zimmermann, my school's German teacher, was jogging around the track, below. Mr Zimmermann was going westward along the north stretch of the track. >d I skipped down the steps back to the center. South Side Bleachers, lower level I was surrounded by bleachers in all directions. I could see the north side bleachers, across the field; they were absolutely blank. Steps went up this center aisle, up to the top, where I saw the announcer's booth. The exit back to the track was northeast from here. Mr Zimmermann, my school's German teacher, was jogging around the track, below. Mr Zimmermann was now in the northwest section of the track, going westward. >d I skipped down the steps and stepped back down onto the track. Track, southeast I stood on the southeast curve of my school's six-lane track, which encircled our football field, and stretched westward, curving to the north from here. The field was bathed in lights, which topped the very tall fence; as they were focused on the field, I could hardly see anything that might be on or in the bleachers. To the southwest was the steps up into the south side bleachers. The north side bleachers were, of course, to the north. The field loomed to the northwest. Mr Zimmermann, my school's German teacher, was jogging around the track. Mr Zimmermann was about to reach the west end of the track, going southward. >drop hurdle I positioned the hurdle over one of the middle lanes, the one that I thought Mr Zimmermann was using. Mr Zimmermann, my school's German teacher, was jogging around the track. Mr Zimmermann was rounding the west end of the track, going southward. >z Time passed. Mr Zimmermann, my school's German teacher, was jogging around the track. Mr Zimmermann was completing the west curve of the track, turning eastward. >z Time passed. Mr Zimmermann, my school's German teacher, was jogging around the track. Mr Zimmermann was now on the south side of the track, jogging eastward. >z Time passed. Mr Zimmermann, my school's German teacher, was jogging around the track. Mr Zimmermann was approaching me from the west. >z Time passed. Mr Zimmermann was jogging closer to me; I could see his pocket full of keys bouncing up and down. >z Time passed. Mr Zimmermann looked at me with a smile, as if welcoming the challenge. And without missing a beat, Ziggy took a running jump over the hurdle! I looked on in amazement as his right foot went over the hurdle, and his gut bounced down, and then up as he peaked, his bulging pocket doing the same. I saw something come out of his pocket, flashing in the light, clinking as it hit the ground. But then I heard a sound as his left foot struck the top bar, knocking the hurdle over and carrying it with him. He kept running as the hurdle spun around his ankle, his other leg beating it around, until it disintegrated into a dozen friggin' pieces, which went everywhere! But he just kept on friggin' running, as if nothing had happened. "Zey don't call me 'Zippy Ziggy' for nuzing!" he shouted, as he continued on. Then I turned my attention to what he dropped. >take keys (Ziggy's gym keys) Got it. Mr Zimmermann had passed me, making his way around the curve going north. >e I stepped out of the gate, back onto the parking lot pavement. Gridiron Entrance I was in another lighted part of the lot, with a few cars, working and abandoned, parked here and there. Another huge gate to the south was closed over a driveway--which was the back way off of the campus. To the west, through another small gate, was my school's football field and track. East was the side-door into the gym, which was closed. The way back to the main parking lot was north. The small gate onto the field was open. >e (first opening the gym door) It seemed to be locked. >unlock door I needed a key for this side. >unlock door with keys Which do you mean, Ziggy's gym keys, the spare keys or the keyring? >gym I unlocked the gym door with the key, pulling it open by the handle. It immediately started swinging closed. The gym door was swinging silently closed. >e I stepped into the gym, and was immediately assaulted by the aroma of floor wax. I saw Mr Gronwald, our chief custodian, out on the gym floor, with a mop bucket and mop. He was wearing some really heavy-duty rubber boots. He turned towards me and said "Tom, you might want to stay off the gym floor tonight, I am giving it a thorough re-waxing." Then he looked down at my feet. "Especially with those shoes." Then he went back to his work. I looked upwards into the bleachers, and of course, there was no one friggin' there. But I wondered if this creep might have left another note for me. Or, was George the creep?? No way. Didn't even sound like him. But I did kind of have some doubt. Gymnasium Compared to other schools, Lamb High had a really crappy gym. It was small, with bleachers on only one side of the basketball court. Not that I was really into sports, but when we had a basketball game, all of the spectators had to sit on that one side, so often fights would break out between fans of rival teams. Steps led up into the bleachers from here. A small hallway led south to the locker rooms. Across the gym floor to the east was the set of steel doors leading out to the hall; they were closed. West was the side-door going outside; this door was open, but swinging closed. George, the chief custodian, was on the gym floor with a mop and bucket, appearing busy. The gym door was swinging silently closed. >u I climbed the steps up into the gym bleachers, reaching the top, looking all around for any sign of anyone, or any other stupid note. And of course, no one was there. But there was another freakin' note! Gym Bleachers I was in another sea of sections of long seats, except these were polished wood and smelled of pine cleaner. Steps, to the northwest and northeast, led back down to the gym floor. Propped up against the back of one of the bleachers was another one of those stupid notes in red letters. The gym door clanged shut. >take note (the third note) Got it. >read it It said, in red sharpie-- HOW MANY CUSTODIANS DOES IT TAKE TO SCREW IN A FUCKING LIGHT BULB? TOO MANY! TOM YOU ARE JUST GOING TO HAVE TO FIND ME! OH NO. I JUST MADE YOU, THE TOM TRUNDLE, MAD. I GUESS I'LL HAVE TO GIVE YOU ANOTHER CLUE. I AM SOMEWHERE. . . . . . . IN THIS BUILDING! HA HA HA! I'LL SAY HI TO YOUR WHORE FOR YOU! AT SOME POINT! HA HA HA! Well, he was frickin' right. I was mad. Mad as hell. This school was only one big building. Three long east-west halls, intersected on their east ends by one north-south hall. One big backwards E. The gym was at the end of the south-most hall, which went east from here. There were probably a lot of locked doors; each hall had doors like this gym. No guarantee that they would be open. I was going to have to use my ingenuity. Provided I could find it. >save Ok. >