“Hi, Crystal, I can hear you. Can you hear me?”
“Of course I can hear you. Maynard’s been asking when you’re coming back. I don’t think he likes me as much as you. He keeps telling me to dress the part. What exactly do you wear for this performance?”
“Think Desperately Seeking Susan,” I said. “Vintage ’80s dance class with a tux jacket over top.”
“It doesn’t matter. You’re coming back tomorrow, right?”
“That’s why I called. I’m going to be here longer than I thought. Do you think Maynard will hold my job for me?”
“Girl, I’m doing what I can, but those doves freak me out.”
“Thanks, Crystal.”
“Vintage ’80s with a tux jacket, huh? Where am I supposed to find that?”
I sighed. “The bottom two drawers on the right-hand side of my dresser.”
“You have two drawers filled with costumes for Magic Maynard’s act? You are one weird woman.”
*
IT was close to eight o’clock when I finished my phone calls. I prepared an unfulfilling dinner of Fruity Pebbles doused with milk and carried the bowl downstairs. Halfway through, I abandoned it on the counter and walked around the store, determining what needed to get done for the week.
First item: restock the flapper section. Headbands, I already knew, but we were low on garters and fishnets too. There were a few dresses left on the rack, but when I checked the sizes, I saw that they were mostly small and extra small. Fringe wasn’t the easiest thing to work with, so I made a note to check our suppliers to see what colors and styles were available for immediate delivery.
Next to the flapper section of the store was a rack of poodle skirts and cashmere twinsets from the ’50s. We were in the middle of the hottest six months in Proper City, and even if somebody was heading to a sock hop or a ’50s-themed party, they’d request a custom costume instead of the heavy wool on these. I made a note to rotate the store’s inventory and replace the winter-weight costumes with something lightweight like hula girls and surfers.
When I finished my tour of the store, my to-do list was four pages long. There was a chance I was creating work so I wouldn’t have to think about my dad’s health or Blitz’s murder or Ebony’s predicament, but I couldn’t help myself. Outside the store, the sky grew dark with night. Even during the hot days from April to October, it was worth going outside at night. The sun took a break from scorching the town and a cool breeze danced around buildings, cars, gardens, and residences.
I set my notebook on a chair. Air would feel good. I flipped the dead bolt and opened the door just as a truck screeched to a halt in front of the store.
I jumped back inside and pushed the door shut. The hydraulic arm kept it from slamming. When it fell into place, I flipped the lock and backed away into a shadow. The silhouette of a person approached. I felt his presence even though I couldn’t see. Why hadn’t I drawn the shade on the door? What was I thinking?
I flattened myself against the wall between the entrance and the display window. The person moved away from the storefront. I didn’t move. In a few seconds, I heard a thud on the sidewalk, and then another. The sound repeated twice, and then the truck drove away.
My heart thumped in my chest. Was someone out there still? I didn’t think so. Come on, Margo, I told myself. Grow a pair. Nobody’s waiting on the sidewalk to get you.
I pulled the shade down and dropped to my knees. When I peeked out of the corner of the window I spotted four bulging black trash bags in front of the shop. Creepy thoughts flooded my brain and I shuddered. I could call the police, I thought. They could come and investigate the bags. Or I could wait until tomorrow when it was light out. Or I could call the city trash collector and ask him to pick up the bags and take them away.
As options played out in my head, Soot approached the door. He pushed his nose into the small space below the door. I stroked his fur and started to calm down. I grabbed the doorknob, stood up, and pulled the shade down. The pull tab from the window shade caught on the button of my pajama top and I yanked at it to free myself. The shade retracted all the way and I found myself face-to-face with Tak.
I screamed. He might have screamed too. Soot jumped a foot in the air. When he landed he scrambled his feet against the linoleum tile floor, searching for traction. Seconds later his nails caught and he took off for the stairs.
Tak tried to open the door but it was locked. I stumbled backward a few times. My heart did a jive in my chest. Tak stepped out of view. The phone rang and I kept my eyes on the door while I felt around the counter for it.
“H-h-hello?” I said.
“This is Tak. I’m sorry I scared you. Your dad called. He said you were going to call me, but when you didn’t, I thought I’d come over and see if you wanted to talk in person.”
“I don’t believe you,” I said.