Clark pushed an HO-scale locomotive out of the train station. “The last train from New York arrives at midnight, so we’ll start at twelve thirty. We’ll have the whole town to ourselves.”
“What about Arnold Schwarzenegger?” I asked. “What happens when we wake up the Shit Zoo?”
“Not a problem,” Clark said. “Here’s how we handle it.” He placed three plastic action figures in the parking lot behind General Tso’s. “I’m He-Man, you’re Papa Smurf, and Alf’s Alf.”
“Can I be He-Man?” Alf asked.
Clark ignored him. “We all rendezvous behind General Tso’s at twelve thirty. We hide behind the Dumpster until Tack makes his circuit. At that moment, we have exactly thirty minutes to get in and out of the store.” He clicked the small digital stopwatch on the side of the table, and red LED numbers began counting down from 00:30:00. “It’s way more time than we need,” he added. “We can do the whole operation in five minutes.”
“But what about the dog?” I repeated.
Alf smiled. “You’re going to love this.”
“Right, pay attention,” Clark said. “He-Man and Papa Smurf start climbing the fire ladder while Alf runs down the alley.” He galloped the action figure through the alley to the front of General Tso’s. “There’s a separate entrance here for the second-floor apartment. With its own doorbell.” They had incorporated a miniature doorbell into the model, and Clark pushed it with his claw. A single Christmas-tree light illuminated the second-floor window of General Tso’s, and a tiny sound chip (gutted from a stuffed animal) began to bark.
“We tried it for real last night,” Alf explained. “It took the General three minutes to get downstairs, and the dog came with him, yapping his head off. While he’s distracted, we go up the ladder and across the roof.”
“A ding-dong-ditch?” I asked. “That’s the plan?”
Clark shrugged. “Sometimes the best solutions are the most obvious ones.”
“What about the alley?” I asked. “We still have to get across the alley.”
Clark balanced a wooden Popsicle stick between the two rooftops. “We left a two-by-four on the General’s roof. We’ll use it like a bridge. Cross over to the bike shop and we’re home free.”
I observed all of this with a slow-building dread. Over the past two weeks, Alf and Clark had approached the plan with all of the energy and ingenuity that I’d brought to The Impossible Fortress. They’d anticipated everything—but there was one crucial missing piece.
“The alarm code,” Alf said. “How soon can you have it?”
“It’s tough,” I started.
“Tough?” Alf said.
“What’s tough?” Clark asked. “Tough how?”
“I’m trying. I go there every day. Just like we planned. But her dad kicks me out at seven o’clock every night. I never see him work the alarm.”
Alf frowned. “You were supposed to screw it out of her, remember? Are you on third base yet?”
“No.”
“Second base? Any base?”
“She’s not like that.”
“Tyler said she was hornier than a baboon. He said he had to beat her off with a stick.”
“Tyler’s full of shit. All his stories are bogus. Do you really believe he had sex with Se?ora Fernandez?”
Alf looked crestfallen, like I’d just revealed there was no Santa Claus. “Of course I believe it. He said she came in Spanish.”
“He’s lying. He’s lied about everything. Mary Zelinsky hates Tyler. She wouldn’t touch that guy in a million years.”
“How do you know?” Clark asked.
“She told me. Tyler tried to steal from their store. They could have had him arrested.”
Alf had stopped listening. He was studying the model of downtown Wetbridge, tweaking the placement of Crenshaw’s Pharmacy just so. All the color had left his face, and he was shaking his head. “Without the alarm code, we’re screwed. There are forty-six guys ready to kick my ass. You have to let me take over.”
“Take over what?”
“Getting the code,” Alf said. “You can’t close the deal, so let me have a chance.”
The idea was so ridiculous, I laughed. “You’re not her type.”
I could tell I’d offended him, that I’d somehow hurt his feelings. “Oh, but you’re her type? She likes scrawny guys with tiny dicks?”
“I didn’t say I’m her type. I said you’re not her type.”
Over in the corner of the basement, the washing machine went to spin cycle and the clothes shifted off balance, making a faint thump-thump-thump-thump—
“Maybe I’m not her type,” Alf said, “but I don’t want to marry the girl. I just need a quick in-and-out. Wham, bam, thank you, ma’am! Oh, and by the way, what’s the code to the alarm system?”
My brain conjured a quick image of Alf groping Mary, forcing himself on her, pushing her down to the floor of the showroom.
“You’re not doing that,” I said.
“What are her turn-ons and turn-offs?”
“I don’t know.”
“See, that’s the problem. You’ve been there two weeks and you haven’t learned anything!”
Clark made some goofy comment to defuse the tension, but we both ignored him. The drum of the washing machine was louder and louder—BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM—but none of us moved to stop it.
Alf walked over to a wooden shelf where his mother stored extra food that wouldn’t fit in their kitchen pantry. It was loaded with an astonishing amount of junk food.
“What’s she like better?” Alf asked. “Twinkies or Oreos?”
I didn’t answer him. I knew he was trying to goad me into proving a point.
“Never mind,” Alf said, reaching for a bottle of Hershey’s Chocolate Syrup. “This is the good stuff. I’m going to pour this on some very private places, you know what I’m saying?”
Clark made another silly comment, but his voice was just more noise in the background. I blinked several times, trying to clear the picture in my mind.
“The funny thing is, she’s actually got nice boobs,” Alf continued. “I won’t mind that part of it. Unhooking her bra and watching those giant melons tumble out. What do you think her nipples are like?”
I pushed him, hard. I didn’t mean to hurt him. I just needed him to stop talking. But the force sent Alf stumbling backward and he fell onto the model of Wetbridge, collapsing the Lego train station. Miniature cars careened off the sides of the platform. The plywood base slipped off the sawhorses, and all of Wetbridge came crashing down. And not even this could get Alf to shut up.
“What the fuck, Billy? What’s wrong with you?” He rolled off the model, crushing Crenshaw’s Pharmacy and stepping on the bike shop, a giant Godzilla stomping Tokyo. “This was your idea! You volunteered to do this!”
I was ready to hit him again. As soon as he stood up, I was going to knock him back down. “Stay away from her,” I said. “If you go anywhere near Mary, I’ll tell Zelinsky what you’re planning, and he’ll call the cops.”