Snared

Once she heard her dad’s heavy feet on the stairs, Lindsay turned away from the view. She needed to recharge her Treo, cell phone, and iPod, and get her laptop set up.

Her dad met her at the bottom of the stairs and said, “You’re all set. First door on the right. Why don’t you get unpacked and then come down to help your mom fix dinner?”

“I have to call Kate first,” Lindsay said, walking up the stairs. “Tell Mom I’ll do the salad.”

The room wasn’t awful. The bed was huge, with a fluffy down quilt hugging the top of the mattress. A small chest of drawers, hardly large enough for the clothes she brought, stood by the closet. There was a cool window seat with a thick green cushion on the far side of the bed. She imagined that was where she’d spend a lot of the next ten days, drinking coffee and looking out at the ocean or at the screen of her laptop. That would work. She could picture herself there, like one of those models in a coffee commercial, looking all cool and content while gripping a steaming mug of bean and gazing out into the world.

There was even an electrical outlet built into the wall under the window seat, so she could keep her laptop plugged in. Nice.

Lindsay lifted the first suitcase onto the bed, where it sank in the fluffy quilt. She unpacked her cables and chargers first, plugging them into the socket by the chest of drawers, and then connected her cell phone and iPod. She carried her laptop and its power cord to the window seat and hooked them up.

Looking out the window, she noticed the house next door. It was smaller than her uncle’s house, and it looked like it might just collapse under the next big gust of wind. The shingles were black and torn like the scales of a sick dragon. The house was supposed to be white, but the boards were dirty and broken. The porch in front sagged, and the two windows on the side facing her were crusted with dirt. The gloomy afternoon made it hard to tell exactly how dismal the house was, but viewed through the rain, the place made her uncle’s house look like a Malibu palace.

Movement caught her eye, and Lindsay looked into the backyard. The first thing she noticed was the umbrella—a large black mushroom, opened up to keep its owner dry. She could not see who stood beneath the umbrella, but he wore a slick black parka just like the ones the men from the grocery store wore. The umbrella guy stood beneath a scraggly tree with pointy limbs. He didn’t move, just faced the back of the house like a black statue.

Uneasy again, Lindsay stepped away from the window seat. What if the freaky umbrella guys had followed her? What if they lived next door? The place had all the charm of a zombie hostel, so it wouldn’t be hard to believe.

She finished unpacking her things and returned to the window seat. Cautiously, she looked at the house next door. The umbrella guy was gone, and she found that even creepier than seeing him standing under the skeletal tree. He could be anywhere. He could be looking at her right now.

Lindsay backed away from the window. At the chest of drawers she lifted her cell phone, which was still connected to the charging cord, and dialed Kate’s number with a trembling finger.

“Get me out of here,” she said when Kate picked up.

“That bad, huh?”

“Worse.”

Kate giggled. In the background, the TV blared some sitcom, and her friend’s laughter blended with the show’s laugh track.

“There’s this house next door,” Lindsay said, “and Buffy wouldn’t go into it. And there are these weird guys with umbrellas all over town.”

“Is it raining?”

“Yeah, it’s raining, but these are huge black umbrellas and all of the guys have these shiny black parkas on. It’s like they’re part of a cult or something.”

“Maybe they don’t want to get wet.”

“You’d understand if you saw them. They’re from some serial killer outlet store. One of them was just outside, and he was totally scoping me.”

That was a lie, but she had to say something so Kate would understand just how bizarre these guys were.

“No way,” Kate said.

“So true. He was in back of the place next door, just staring. Totally not moving or anything. Just staring.”

“Is he still there?”

“No. He bailed.”

“Weird.”

“I know. It’s just awful here.”

“It sounds like it,” Kate said. “Maybe it’ll be better if you get some sun.”

“I hope so. Right now it’s just so gray.”

“Have you forgiven your parents yet?”

“Not even. They must be punished. I can NOT believe they picked this week to drag me out of town.”

“Well, you totally helped with the party. I so owe you, big.”

“It’s okay. I just wish I could be there. It’s going to be way fun.”

“I’m so nervous.”

“You’ll do fine. Just make sure you have the number of the taxi company if anyone gets too wasted, and do not let Justin and Farge in.”

“Oh my god,” Kate said with a cackling laugh. “I’d have to fumigate the place if those burners got in.”

“Exactly,” Lindsay said. “Just remember, they are guests in your house, but it is your house. Don’t put up with any dis’.”

“I won’t, Linds. Thanks so much. I totally have to go like now. I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?”

“See ya.”

Back at the window, Lindsay sat on the edge of the green cushion and looked out. The yard next door was still empty. She relaxed a bit and opened up her laptop. Kate was probably right. It was raining really hard, and it made sense that people would have umbrellas and raincoats on. It wasn’t like a total breakdown in reality.

As she thought this, a figure dashed into the alley, pushing close to the rundown house. Lindsay pulled a little way back, just looking over the edge of the sill to see who stood below.

The boy was blond with long frayed dreadlocks. He wore cargo shorts, Teva sandals, and a tie-dyed T-shirt that was drenched and pasted to his body. He bent at the waist, and a flash of light burst over his belly as he sparked a lighter. Hunched over, the burner was sparking a bowl in the downpour.

What a looz, Lindsay thought. The burner couldn’t even wait to get home and get under some shelter before taking a hit.

The boy straightened up a bit, cupping his pipe in his palm so it didn’t get too wet. He exhaled a thick cloud of smoke that was immediately beat down by the rain. Lifting his face to let the downpour wash over him, looking ecstatic, the boy shoved the pipe into a pocket. Lindsay moved farther from the window. She so didn’t want this dope jockey spotting her.

He started walking to the back of the house, pausing at a window and looking in.

Lindsay’d had enough. She turned away from the window and focused her attention on her laptop. She checked her email, but there was nothing interesting: a piece of spam from one of those online pharmacy places, a notice from Amazon that her DVD order was shipping, and a note from her friend Trey.

Like Kate, Trey had been Lindsay’s friend forever. He was just so nice. She’d never heard him say a nasty thing about anyone. It was like he liked everyone, and he always said the sweetest things. Lindsay knew he’d kind of crushed on her for a while in the eighth grade, but then he’d met Sarah Thomas during the summer break, and by the time he’d come back for the ninth grade he was in love with Sarah. Unfortunately, the relationship ended last year, when Sarah moved to California with her family. Trey had been miserable, and Lindsay had felt miserable for him. But she’d taken him out for coffee every day for two weeks, letting him unload his sadness on her, and soon enough his smile was back.

She looked at his email and smiled. For the tenth time in three days, he told her how much he would miss her at Kate’s party. She’d run out of ways to thank him, so she simply replied with a smiley emoticon.