remembered that she said she skated on in-line skates along the San Diego beaches.
Mark arrived, looking he-manly, in a T-shirt and shorts. He appeared delighted to see April and enfolded her in a bear hug. The knot that had started in my stomach tightened, and I had to remind myself that this was the hugging generation.
Lunch was a disaster. Not from a food perspective. Both Mark and April ate several bowls of the soup and asked for more. They matched each other, bowl for bowl, while gazing into each other's eyes, reminding me of the eating scene in the sixties movie, Tom Jones.
They carried on a giddy conversation and a strange phenomenon occurred. I have a skylight that the maintenance people put in my ceiling; it directs the sun's rays into my dining area, making it much brighter than it used to be. April sat in a location where these rays shone right through her blouse, highlighting her bra.
I tried to dismiss this from my stomach, telling myself that bra ads appeared daily in the newspaper, but then I noticed a spot on her bra that looked like a mole. This was not the bra-this was April's breast. And then I saw her nipple. The sun had penetrated her bra and the effect was terrifying.
While the ache in my gut grew, I wondered whether I should tell April to move or tuck a napkin into her blouse, but I couldn't bring myself to block Mark's enjoyment of the situation-he wasn't just gazing into her eyes- and April's pleasure at having his full attention.
Of course Mark had to have two pieces of pie. Finally, I got up to clear the table and the two rose to help. I said to Mark, “Maybe we should put off what I talked about doing.” I was having second thoughts.
It took him a moment to return his thinking to the original purpose of our get-together. He said, “No, tell me more about what you had in mind.”
I hesitated, looking at April, but she said, “If it's something to do with Uncle Gerry, I'd like to be in on it.”
I briefly outlined my plan. They didn't back out so we left my apartment and walked to where we could see the croquet course. Ellen and her teammate were warming up for a game, just as I had thought. I had checked the schedule the day before.
We didn't get very close because I didn't want Ellen to see me; we veered around the main building and over to the area where Ellen's apartment was located. Not a soul was in sight as we walked up to her door. I rang the bell, but I knew nobody was there.
Mark opened the bag he carried and said, “When I worked for a locksmith, we sometimes got calls from people who had locked themselves out of their cars, or, occasionally, their houses. When I took a look at your lock I could see that the locks here aren't complicated.”
He pulled several thin pieces of metal out of his bag and started playing with the lock. April and I acted as shields so that anybody in the vicinity wouldn't see what he was doing and I kept an eagle eye out for just such a person. I was very nervous, knowing that if we were caught I would be thrown out of Silver Acres and Mark and April would be arrested for breaking and entering, but they treated the whole thing as a prank.
I was amazed at how fast Mark opened the door. I think I had been secretly hoping he'd fail. I said, “Thanks, Mark. Now you kids get out of here so I don't drag you down with me.”
“No way,” April said. “Gerry was my uncle so I've got a bigger interest in this than you do. I'm going in.”
“How would it look if we deserted you now?” Mark asked, grinning. “When I worked with an electrician, he did most of his work without turning off the power because he said it saved time. But it also made the job more exciting. That's the way to live life-keep it hot.”
They both went into the apartment so I had to follow them. We were keeping it hot, all right. “We're looking for a deck of cards,” I said. “If Ellen was the one who switched the decks, she may still have the original deck.”
Ellen kept her apartment neat, as one would expect of a schoolteacher. A corkboard adorned one wall, with family pictures on it. The pictures were perfectly lined up and fastened to the board with colored pins. All the pins penetrated the board at exactly the same angle, like tipsy soldiers in formation.
I saw her purse on an end table by her couch; it was an obvious place to look but my pass through its contents produced nothing. April headed for the bedroom; Mark checked the closets. Fortunately, the apartments are small enough so they don't have a lot of hiding places. In ten minutes we had pretty much eliminated all of them.
We met back in the living room, having even covered the kitchen and bathroom. “I guess that's it,” I said, nervously. “We'd better leave.” I went to the door and surveyed the neighborhood; it was still clear.
“What's that?” April asked, pointing to a trap door in the ceiling.
“There's a crawl space between the roof and the ceiling,” I explained.
“Can it be used for storage?” Mark asked.
“Well, yes, I guess so, but it's difficult to get to, especially for us old folks.”
“I can reach it standing on this chair,” Mark said, dragging one of the wood-frame dining chairs to a spot underneath the door.
“No, Mark,” I said, “don't stand on the chair. It looks wobbly. You'll break your neck, or the chair, or both. Besides, you won't be high enough to look into the crawl space.”
“But the chair is stable enough for Mark to sit on,” April said. “With him providing a solid base I can safely climb onto his shoulders.”
“What?” I cried. “April, don't!”
But Mark had already sat in the chair and April took off her shoes and stepped up onto his thighs, with her hands on his shoulders. The bottom of her skirt was about at Mark's eye-level and inches from his face. Didn't girls have any modesty anymore? I hoped she was at least wearing underwear.
“It's okay,” April said. “I was a cheerleader in high school.”
That explained some things.
“Grab my ankles,” April said to Mark, who had already done so, partly in self-defense. “When I count to three lift me up onto your shoulders.”
Just like that. But Mark was big and strong and April probably didn't weigh more than 110 pounds. April helped by simultaneously pushing off with her feet against Mark's thighs and her hands against his shoulders. Of course Mark had to look up as he raised her above his head and I didn't want to know what he saw.
April couldn't stand up all the way because the ceiling intervened, but she managed to raise the door to the crawl space and then stand up, with her head above the ceiling.
As she stood in this precarious position, she lowered her head and said, “It's dark up there. I saw a flashlight in the headboard of the bed.”
There's nothing like planning ahead. “I'll get it,” I said, moving as fast as I could toward the bedroom. I didn't want this gymnastics exhibition to continue any longer than necessary. I returned and handed the flashlight to April, whose head disappeared into the crawl space.
Mark looked as if he was enjoying the situation; he adjusted his body to April's weight changes as she turned to look around her, and glanced up to check her…uh, stability.
After far too long a time for my mental and physical health, April lowered her head and said in a disappointed voice, “There's nothing up here except dust.”
She handed me the flashlight and replaced the door. When she ducked her head below the ceiling she slipped and came down off Mark's shoulders. Mark lost his grip on her ankles and his hands slid up her legs and underneath her skirt as he tried to get a hold, while she fell into his lap.
Her momentum carried them both off the chair and onto the floor, with Mark on top. April hit with a resounding thud. I gasped and feared the worst for her, but after the shock of the impact wore off, she laughed! Mark seemed to be all right, too. He slowly disentangled himself from her.
April was wearing panties, but they were so skimpy that I wondered why she bothered. She had a tattoo on her upper thigh; I couldn't make out what it was.
As she raised her head to get up, she said, “There's something under the couch.” She crawled over to it, reached out her hand and retrieved a deck of cards. She triumphantly handed it to me and said, “See, it was worth it.”
“Is that the deck?” Mark asked.
“It looks like the ones we play with,” I said, after a quick inspection. “I'll check with Wesley to make sure.”
