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Some stories write themselves. This was not one of them. Though I am happy it has finally found a suitable conclusion, I do miss the leading ladies of this piece in particular. Maybe I’ll have to think of some kind of sequel.
A short recap of Part 1: Meredith is to be sent to Saint Bards, an old people’s home. For the life of her she does not want to go. Instead, she devises a plan of escape with her 94 year old friend, Kati. Over the course of several days she is to steal her step-daughters valuables, so they can sell them on the black market. With the money, they plan on buying bus tickets to the equator.
PART 2
As Roger and Ursula sat down for dinner I forced myself up from my sofa chair. A difficult task as my behind had made its way entirely into the pulpy material, like a heavy brick in soft clay.
From under my mattress I retrieved a small, thin bottle of vodka which, with shaking hand, I poured into my toothpaste cup and gulped down. I had never in my life felt so exhilarated. My plan to steal Ursula’s pearl necklace would have to work to perfection. It was my last chance at freedom.
I stepped out of my room and ascended the stairs quietly, hanging onto the railing for guidance. At the top I took an extra step which wasn’t there, but since it was better than forgetting a step that was there, I managed to get up noiselessly. The landing was also lined with a thick fabric so I could maneuver across it without making a sound.
I stood in front of their door for a while before opening it, listening for voices. For some reason the thought of switching the lights on felt like a bad idea. When my eyes finally became acquainted to the dark I walked around the bed, to Ursula’s beside table, and pocketed the pearl necklace. Then, feeling especially brave, I went over to their bathroom and stole their toothpaste, just for jokes, and their toilet paper. Before leaving I realized I still had the skunk potion in my pocket, so I spritzed some of it on their pillows. Kati really was a genius, it smelled like rotten eggs and old, moist towels.
Back in my room, I lifted the mattress again and hid the pearl necklace. I put the toilet paper next to it, as well as the toothpaste. Then I took my bottle of vodka and set it out on the table, pouring myself a glass every now and then while I waited.
It took them all of thirty minutes to finish eating, wash the dishes, and saunter back upstairs. All the drinking had made me deliriously hungry so I walked to the kitchen and, ignoring the plate they had set out for me, ate the pasta right out of the pan.
Ursula did not notice her missing necklace until the next morning. I woke up with a delicious, piercing, screeching noise. A scream unlike any I had ever heard before — a harsh, noteless sound. A growling, low-pitched, yell which made my toes claw into the soles of my shoes.
“Where’s my mother’s pearl necklace?”
“How should I know?” Roger answered.
“You’re always going around cleaning everything like a damn idiot. Always cleaning, cleaning, cleaning, even when everything is clean. You must have seen it somewhere.”
“I haven’t touched that necklace. Though you know how much it bothers me, just laying around like that.”
“You took it, I can see it on your face.”
“Ursula, be reasonable now, why should I have taken it?” His voice had a little quiver to it which pleased me.
Nightgown and all I made my way to the foyer with little bouncing strides. Pushing myself high up on my toes with each step.
From the base of the stairs I could just make out the entrance of their room, the light from which made their silhouettes dance on the walls. The movements of Roger’s hands were quick and precise, like shadow puppets. Ursula did nothing but scream, and the screaming only intensified when she noticed their missing toothpaste. I guess they weren’t in the habit of brushing their teeth before bed. By this time Roger was out in the hallway, breathing loudly and quickly through his mouth, telling himself little words of comfort and encouragement. His face appeared smoother, and paler than usual, like a moth in lamp light.
Ursula didn’t go to work that day, which was vastly annoying as I wanted to steal her bikinis for our trip to the equator.
I entertained myself for most of the morning by imagining Kati’s reaction when I told her what had happened. Around 13:00, when I was sure to hear Ursula in the kitchen, I snuck out through my terrace door and hurried over to Kati, pearl necklace in my pocket.
“Excellent! This should give us at least $1,000 if my calculations are correct.”
“Yes, then tonight I’ll take two pairs of her earrings, and two of her purses.”
“Perfect.”
We sat there, staring at each other like two hungry hyenas.
“Come with me,” Kati said, getting up from her chair slowly.
I followed her into the annex and up one flight of stairs. She unlocked a door I hadn’t seen before and the two of us stepped into what was a large, pleasant single bedroom. On the bed laid a red dressing gown made of a silk-like material.
“I haven’t worn it in years, but feel, it’s beautiful, isn’t it? I wanted to wear it were we to take a cruise.”
“It’s really quite beautiful,” I said, enviously.
“You ought to steal one or two of Ursula’s dresses too. If you steal two I can sew them together so they’ll be your size.”
“We’ll attract all kinds of beautiful men,” I said, excited by the prospect.
“Perhaps, though I certainly hope not. Personally, I don’t trust handsome men. Life comes too easily for them. As if they themselves were responsible for their face! I don't mind a woman being pretty. But for a man, it is simply galling.”
Throughout the following days I stole all kinds of small items. Bracelets, earrings, hairsprays and perfumes. The mornings were always spent in largely the same manner. By that time Ursula was convinced I was the thief, but since she never thought to look under my mattress, she had no prove for her intuition. Every morning, as she scoured through my room, I’d make my way to the wardrobe near the door and spritz several droplets of Kati’s skunk potion on her jacket.
Every once in a while I’d make my way over to Catherine’s house for my afternoon tea. The dining room was always warm and clean, her curtains drawn somewhat, the two vases on her dinner table always contained red and white roses. My thieving eyes had begun to notice everything. On the sideboard behind me, for example, were two books with distinguished covers which Kati and I could read on our bus ride. In the knife rack shone several boning knives which we could use in case of self-defense. She also had all kinds of pens and pencils in a glass jar near the door, and a pot-full of sweets which made my mouth water in anticipation.
Whenever Catherine went down to do her laundry, or up to make their bed, or whatever she did while I was supposedly her guest, I’d slip the books, or the knives, or the sweets into my bag, and leave quickly, delivering them to Kati before returning home.
Then one evening, something bad happened. As usual, the moment Ursula and Roger sat down for dinner I made my way back upstairs. I could feel little shocks of excitement, tiny prickling sensations, under my skin and near my fingertips. I could hardly contain myself as I looked through her clothes and selected, not one, not two, but three of her best dresses, and two purses. One small, black one for the evening, and another big one, made out of a straw material, for the beach. The latter reminded me of the bikinis I still had to steal, so I made my way through their wardrobe and cupboard, then their cabinets, but I could not find them anywhere.
All of this, of course, took time, and when I heard the sound of feet in the foyer, I was still very much in the midst of stealing. I stopped and straightened up, and I must confess, I was incredibly frightened. At this point I realized I’d made quite a mess out of the room. The drawers were pulled out. Shirts and blouses were scattered everywhere. The cupboards were open from my search for the bikinis, and there were pants and jackets ripped from their hangers. Before I could get my thoughts aligned I dropped the dresses, purses, bikinis and underwear, and ran out to the guest room next door, holding my breathe. What now?
A few moments later the two of them were upstairs, laughing and whispering. If I heard correctly, Roger was telling Ursula that she was naughty, which made me hopeful that perhaps he would blame the mess on her.
“My God!” Ursula screeched as soon as she opened the door.
“There must be a thief in our house.”
“Do you think he’s still here?”
“I don’t know,” Roger whispered, “but I’ll call the police.”
While they were distracted, I made my way back down the stairs quickly, and into my room. My heart was racing about one-hundred miles an hours, so I made a little prayer to God to please have me survive until, at least, I saw the equator.
The first police car arrived a few minutes later, followed by a police inspector and a finger-print inspector. Though I stayed in my room, I snuck to the door and peaked through the keyhole. The inspector had an arrogant tilt to his chin, with flared nostrils and contemptuous, staring eyes that were a shade too small. I noticed that he had the habit of prodding his face forward at Ursula, pushing her in a corner, and were he to have tried the same trick on me, I would have surely head-budded him right there and then. Ursula, on the other hand, who does not have much sense, seemed to be enjoying the whole thing.
They spent the better part of an hour upstairs. By the time they sauntered back down my feet were numb and my varicose veins were about to burst.
“This was the work of an amateur thief. Or amateur thieves. Probably some young neighborhood kids who got bored and made their way in through the window.”
“The window was closed, how is that possible?” Ursula demanded.
“Well, then they found some other way in, but I wouldn’t worry too much if I were you.”
“Wouldn’t worry? They must have been coming in and out for the past few weeks!”
“I completely understand your concern Mrs. Mansbridge. It must be an entirely unraveling thought, to have some stranger in your house. But if we just set some cameras up…”
“I think it is his mother.”
“His mother?”
“Yes, his mother,” she whispered.
“And where does his mother live?”
“In the room right over there.”
“Would you mind if I go talk to her for a moment?” The inspector asked Roger.
Roger did not answer, but as the two police were suddenly standing in my room, he must have nodded yes.
From up close I could see the inspector’s disgusting coarse hair in all its glory. Slightly wavy, with just a shine of grease, like a tossed salad.
“Hello, I’m Inspector Philip, and this is Robert, our finger print specialist. What’s your name?”
If there is something I absolutely cannot stand it’s how, once you reach a certain age, certain people think you are suddenly a child again, and speak to you as the such. It took just about all of my willpower not to give him a good spanking like the child he was. And if it weren’t for my pretending to be deaf, I most certainly would have.
But as it were, I pretended to ignore him, and instead simply practiced my death stare by looking at him with a blank expression, like two fish eyes on a white plate.
“It’s Meredith. She’s deaf,” Roger informed him.
“And extremely old,” the Inspector whispered back, “you can’t seriously think she’d go around stealing your things”
“She walks around just fine,” Ursula added.
They had a look through my room, but as my mission had been unsuccessful, there was nothing to find. The next morning I hurried over to Kati’s right when I woke up, well before our usual meeting time. I was sufficiently shocked to find her without a wig or dentures, but had I known it would take her thirty minutes to get ready, I wouldn’t have mentioned anything.
When she finally slugged her way back downstairs, I had already fallen asleep, and for the life of me I couldn’t understand why she hadn’t simply woken me up. By the time my eyes did finally open at their own accord, it was well into the late afternoon, perhaps evening.
In rapid monosyllables I told Kati everything, from my failed attempt at stealing the dresses, to the police investigation, to Ursula’s ultimatum. Because I had fallen asleep, we did not have the time to go over a plan of action (we would certainly have to leave within the next two days, and neither of us knew much about bus schedules, especially not the one which takes you from Sussex to the equator). I promised I would come back first thing in the morning.
As I spoke the memory of Kati’s terrifying appearance came to mind, and how utterly different she looked then. She was wearing a blonde wig, cut to the length of her shoulders, her eyes were outlined with black charcoal, her lips smeared in red. But I hardly noticed her makeup at all. What caught my attention almost immediately had more to do with her chest. It couldn’t be… She was wearing all of Ursula’s jewels! The pearl necklace and all!
“Kati! You told me you had sold everything on the black market, so we could pay for our trip!”
“Oh, these pearls? They wouldn’t be worth a cent. I’ve altered our plans somewhat. I will simply bring my potions. LetmedoasIplease will certainly do the job.”
“So why did you make me steal all that stuff?!”
“I didn’t make you do anything. Don’t you want to look nice on our trip?”
A sudden, violent welling up of a hatred filled my stomach like a taught balloon. I tried to ignore
it, but it was on me like a fever. I ripped the pearls from her neck and walked out.
Back home I was met by a horrible sight. Three police cars were parked on our curb, one blocking my sneak-in entrance out back, which led right to the patio door. I thought I should perhaps find a shovel and dig my way under the car and out the other end. Before I could make up my mind as to where I could find such a shovel, a hand took hold of my shoulder. Then a mouth shouted something violently in my ear. The funny thing about sounds is that, when you stand too close to a loud noise, you simply do not hear it anymore. I have not the slightest clue what he said.
Apparently I had been missing for an entire day and night. Kati must have, for one reason or another, put some potion in my tea. Probably to have me forget how entirely terrifying she looks in the mornings. Perhaps she is more vain than I thought.
Unfortunately, they also found the pearls in my hand. While the inspector had an excellent sense of humor, neither Roger nor Ursula want to ever talk to me again.
Two days later I was sent off to Saint Bards, where I plan on making no friends, and spend my days devising a plan of escape. Isn’t that all life is about anyway? A way to distract ourself, in preparation for our great escape?
Soo good!! Love these stories. Wonderful storytelling and superb writing.
The only story that writes itself is the story that's written in one sitting. GG on soldiering through. The ending is a cute play on words but has something of a darkness between the lines.