Is Anybody There? Read Free Page B

I muttered, but Nick didn’t answer. He paused on the way back through the kitchen.
    “Do you mind being alone, Marcus? You can come up with me, you know.”
    “I don’t mind. Actually I like being alone,” I added.
    “Yes. That’s what your mom tells me.”
    So she’d told him that, had she?
    Then Nick opened the door into the garage and switched on the light. I guess when this guy checks a place, he really checks it.
    Looking past him I could see the workbench, my bike on its kickstand, the drape hiding Mom’s present, and all my bike junk in a pile in the corner. I could see the oil spot shaped like Australia on the floor. Robbie and I had put in red blobs for Perth and Sydneyand Oodnadatta, a town Robbie had found in the middle of the map of Australia. He said he liked the sound of it. There was nobody hiding in the garage either.
    “Get your Campies yet?” Nick asked.
    “No.”
    The Campagnolo pedals were all I needed to finish Mom’s bike. They were on order in Henry’s Bike Shop, but they hadn’t come in yet. I hated it that Nick knew about them and about Mom’s present. I hadn’t meant to share the secret, but he’d come into the garage one day while I was working on the bike so I’d had to tell. He’d walked all around it, admiring it, and I could see he was really amazed that I’d built it from scratch. Actually, Nick’s always nice to me. That’s not the problem. The problem is I’m happy here, by myself and with Mom. And I don’t want him trying to get in good with her by getting in good with me. Not that he seems to be having any trouble getting in good with her. She’d even given him a
key
!
    “Have you tried the other bike shops in town for the Campies?” Nick asked. “You might luck out.”
    “I’m going to check Henry’s again tomorrow,”I said. “He thought they’d be in. Thanks for the lights. And for the house search. I feel kind of stupid.”
    “No need.”
    Nick sounded fatherly, and if there’s one thing I’m not in the market for, it’s a father. “How much do we owe you for the lights?” I asked, reminding him that all he is here is a paying tenant.
    “No need for that either.” I couldn’t figure out the look he gave me.
    “See you,” he said.
    I walked straight into the hall when he left, got the blackthorn stick that used to be my father’s, and went over the house again myself. This time I checked to see if anything was missing, because somebody might have been in here. It wasn’t likely, but still … We didn’t have sterling silver, but Mom’s silver plate was all there in the sideboard drawer. The dimes she collects in a green glass jar seemed to be at the same level.
    I stood in the silence of her bedroom. She has a Chinese jewel box, which locks with a brass key that she keeps in the drawer under her panty hose. I found the key, opened thebox, and went over her valuables, one by one. There aren’t that many and they were all there: the pin set in pearls that Grandma had given her; her garnet earrings—my dad had bought her those on their fifth anniversary; his gold watch.
    I took it out and held it against my wrist. The watch will be mine when I’m sixteen. My dad wore it all his life, even when he was sick. You can still see the marks on the leather strap where he had to tighten it on his wrist when he got thinner and thinner. I ran my fingers along the grooves, thinking—one month, two months, three months—and then nothing. My throat hurt. I held the watch face to my cheek, the glass cool against my skin. Then I set it to the right time by Mom’s little bedside clock, wound it up, and put it back in the box. I could still hear it ticking when I closed and locked the lid. I was really, really glad nobody had taken the watch. And I was relieved too. Because if someone
had
been in our house, that watch would have been long gone. I could relax.
    The doorbell rang, making me jump. No need to be nervous anymore, for Pete’s sake!But I went