Nine Doors Read Free

look around, then rang the doorbell. He must have held it down for five or six seconds before he booted it back to our hiding place.
    We peeked up through the car window and held our breath. You’d think Richard had just planted a bomb or something— that’s how wound up we were.
    We waited and waited. Nothing happened.
    All of a sudden, Richard banged his hand against the car window. “What’s the matter with the guy? Is he deaf or something? We know he’s in there! He can’t hide.”
    I was sort of startled. I don’t think I’d ever seen Richard mad before. He always acted like nothing bothered him.
    He slumped back down against the side of the car, all dejected.
    â€œSo try again, why don’t you?” I said. I knew he really wanted to get the guy, but that wasn’t the only reason I encouraged him. Somehow I wasn’t just killing time anymore. It was my game now too. I wanted to see what happened as much as he did.
    I elbowed Richard in the ribs. “Come on!” I said. “Try again. He was probably just touching up his mascara or couldn’t hear you over the hair dryer or something.”
    Richard liked that. He sort of chuckled. “Right. That was probably it.”
    He pointed at me and winked. “This time, he’ll hear me for sure.” He did a quick scan of the area. He dropped his voice way down low. “Cover me. I’m going in!”
    He darted across the street, all hunched over like a commando under heavy fire. He slid up the stairs with his back against the wall, then rang the bell. He pressed his ear to the door and listened. After a while, he turned toward me and lifted his hands up in a shrug. No one was coming.I motioned at him to ring the bell again.
    This time he pushed it for a really long time. He waited. When there was no answer, he pushed it again.
    And again.
    And again.
    He dropped the whole commando thing and started doing this little dance. My guess is he was tapping out some song on the doorbell. His moves were unbelievably lame. It was like something my dad would do in one of his many embarrassing attempts to look cool. It totally cracked me up. That’s one thing you’ve got to like about Richard. He’ll do anything for a laugh.
    All of a sudden, his eyes flew open. He jumped down the stairs and booted it across the street, flapping his hands in front of him like a little kid who’d just seen a monster. I couldn’t tell if he was trying to be funny or if he really was scared. Either way, it was hilarious. He dove down behind the car just as the door opened.
    The guy said, “Hello? Hello...?” He stepped out of the house and lookedaround. He was way older than I’d thought he was. I got the impression he used to be a cop once upon a time. He had the look down pat—the slicked-back hair, the bulging arms, the gray pants with the crease down the middle. (The apron, of course, watered down the whole macho thing he had going on.)
    It only took the guy a couple of seconds to realize someone was playing a prank on him. Even through the car windows, we could see how mad he was. His face had gone pinker than his apron. He did this angry Ninja thing with his mouth. I was working so hard not to laugh I was afraid my brain was going to start spurting out my ears.
    The guy called out, “Just wait until I get my hands on you kids! So help me, I’m going to...I’m going to...” Either he couldn’t find the words or he figured they were too rude to scream out in the middle of the day. He tore his apron off and threw it on the porch. It would have looked like a real tough-guy thing to do if had beena bulletproof vest or a flack jacket, but frankly, under the circumstances, it was just funny.
    He must have seen us move or heard us snort or something, because suddenly he looked up. He started coming down the stairs straight for us. I have to admit it made me nervous. He was a lot