I hurried my steps, wondering what I’d find in her backyard.
Nothing.
The house came right up against the woods. It was the strangest thing. It was as though the house was built half onto a plot of land, half in a forest, like it was emerging from the trees. From the street, it just looked as if maybe there were a ton of trees in her backyard. But it was all trees. The roots seemed to merge right into the foundation. Thick, ugly vines ran up the back walls. I don’t know if the house was originally built in the woods and then a clearing was made in the front, or if it was the opposite, if the woods behind it had sneaked up and started to swallow Bat Lady’s house whole.
“What are you doing?”
I bit back a scream and jumped high enough to dunk a basketball. The voice had come from behind me. I spun quickly, taking two steps back and banging into a tree.
It was Ema.
“Scared you, huh?” She laughed and lifted her arms into wings. “Did you think I was the Bat Lady coming to take you away?”
My voice was a whisper. “Knock it off.”
“Big tough guy.”
“What are you doing here anyway?” I asked.
She shrugged.
“Wait, were you following me?”
“Really, Mickey?” She put her hands on her hips. “Conceited much?”
I wasn’t sure what to say to that.
“It was just…” Ema sighed. “You mentioned Bat Lady. And you came to my rescue, right, and then I guess I just got curious.”
“So you followed me here?”
Ema didn’t reply. She looked around as though she’d just realized that we were half in the woods, half leaning against the back of Bat Lady’s house. “So why are you here anyway? No luck with the fat chick, so you figured you’d try the old one?”
I just looked at her.
“I heard what they said. Buck and Troy. They’ve been on me for so long it’s hard to remember a time when they weren’t.” She turned away, bit her lower lip, and then faced me again. “I also heard they threatened you for defending me.”
I shrugged it off.
“So what are you doing here?”
I wondered how to explain it and went with the simple: “I want to talk to Bat Lady.”
Ema smiled. “No, seriously.”
“I am serious.”
“No, you’re not. Because, well, she’s not real. Bat Lady’s just a myth the big kids use to scare the little kids. I mean, I don’t know anyone who has ever seen her.”
“I’ve seen her,” I said.
“When?”
“This morning.” Then I added: “She told me that my father was still alive.”
Ema looked puzzled.
“He died in a car crash earlier this year,” I explained.
“Whoa,” Ema said, her eyes going wide. “I’m not sure what to say to that.”
“I just want to talk to her.”
“Okay, I get it. I saw you knock on her door. So what’s your plan now?”
“Try the back door.”
“Makes sense, I guess,” Ema said. She looked toward the woods and narrowed her eyes. “Look at that.”
She pointed into the woods and took a few steps in that direction. I didn’t see anything other than trees.
“There’s a road back there,” Ema said. “Maybe a building.” I still didn’t see it. She walked toward it. I followed her. A few steps later, I could see that she was right. There, maybe fifty yards behind Bat Lady’s house, was what might have been a garage, painted in a brown-green that worked as camouflage. There was a dirt road from somewhere in the woods leading up to it. You couldn’t see either one from the front of the house. Heck, you couldn’t even see them from the back door.
Ema bent down and touched the dirt. “Tire tracks for a car,” she said, like she was following someone in an old movie. “This must be how Bat Lady goes in and out-through this dirt road. She can park and go in and no one would ever see her.”
“Bat Lady drives?”
“What, you think she flies?”
I felt a chill. The garage was in better shape than the house but not by much. I tried the garage door. It too was locked. There were no windows, so I couldn’t see if there was a car inside.
I didn’t know what to make of all this. Probably nothing. An eccentric old woman lived here. She liked to go in and out through a private entrance. Big deal. There was no reason for me to be here.
Except, of course, she had known my name. And there was that bit about my father being alive…
Who says that to someone? Your father’s still alive? Who does that?
Enough. I spun around and headed to the back door. I knocked. No reply. I knocked harder. There were dirty windows on the door. I cupped my hands around my eyes to look inside, and while I did, I felt the door give way just a little. I looked down at the knob. Decay had eaten away at the doorjamb. I reached into my pocket and pulled out my wallet. Ema was by my side now. I extracted a credit card, hiding the name on it from her.
“Whoa,” she said. “You know how to break in?”
“No, but I’ve seen it on TV. You just sort of slide the card.”
She frowned. “And you think that’ll work?”
“Normally no,” I said. “But look how old that lock is. It looks like it’ll break if I breathe on it too hard.”
“Okay, but think it through first.”
“Huh?”
“Suppose the door does open,” Ema said. “Then what?”
I wasn’t thinking that far ahead. I jammed the credit card into the opening in the jamb. I slid it down. It met resistance. I slid a little harder. Nothing. I was about to give up when the door slowly opened with a creak noisy enough to echo into the woods.
“Whoa,” Ema said again.
I pushed the door the rest of the way open. The creak grew louder, causing birds to scatter. Ema put her hand on my forearm. I looked down and saw her fingernails were black. She had silver rings on every finger. One was a skull and crossbones.
“That’s breaking and entering,” she said.
“You going to call the cops?” I asked.
“You kidding?” Her eyes lit up. She looked younger now, sweeter, almost like a little kid. When I saw the hint of a smile, I arched an eyebrow and that, I guessed, scared it away. The sullen was back. “Whatever,” she said, trying to sound like she couldn’t care less. “It’s cool.”
No, not cool. I knew that this wasn’t the smartest move, but the need to do something here, anything, outweighed those personal concerns. Besides, really, what was the risk? An old woman had yelled out some crazy things to me in the morning. I came by to check on her. When there was no answer, I decided to make sure that she was okay. That would be my story. What were they going to do, lock me up for that?
“You might as well go home,” I said to her.
“Dream on.”
“I guess I could use a lookout.”
“I’d rather go in.”
I shook my head.
Ema sighed. “Fine. I’ll be the lookout.” She took out her cell phone. “What’s your number?”
I gave it to her.
