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Once again, Gertrude slept all the way to Gorham.
Calvin elbowed her in the ribs when he pulled into the now deserted pound store parking lot.
“Ow!” she cried.
“I think I hate you,” he said.
“What? Why?”
“Because I’m so tired I think I might die and you just slept for two hours. And this is all your idea.”
“Oh yeah. That. Sorry. Tell you what! You can sleep on the way home. I’ll drive.”
“Fat chance. Are you sure you want to do this?” he asked. “They’re going to give you more than a slap on the wrist this time.”
“Then let’s not get caught,” she said.
He parked near the road.
“What are you doing over here? Drive me to the building at least!”
“Gertrude, I don’t feel good about this.”
“Nothing’s going to happen, Calvin. If I get caught, I’ll remind them that I am a little tilted, remember? Anyway, if they catch me, I’ll actually be holding the murder weapon. I’ll be a hero.”
Calvin didn’t look so sure.
“Look if you see blue lights or hear sirens, just drive away. I’ll deny you were ever here.”
“They’re going to know I brought you, Gertrude. How else would you get here? I’m your only friend.”
“That’s not true! I have lots of friends!” Gertrude cried. Wait, did he just say we were friends?
“I think I should go in with you.”
Gertrude’s eyes grew wide, but it was dark, so he couldn’t see that. “All right then. We should get going.”
He put the Cadillac in drive and rolled toward the building. “So how were you planning to get into the building?”
“I was going to find a window that wasn’t locked.”
“That’s it? That’s your big plan? What if all the windows are locked?”
“Look at this place, Calvin. It’s huge. One of the windows will be unlocked, I promise. Sure as mud in mud season.”
He pulled up alongside the building and put the car back in park. “I think we have other problems.”
“What?” Gertrude asked.
“Well, look. The windows are too high to reach, and they’re also ... well, they’re fairly narrow.”
“Well, we can just climb on your car, and what do you mean, narrow?”
“First of all, you’re not climbing on my car. Second of all, no offense, but you’re not going to fit through that window.”
She looked at the window and then she looked down at her own hips. “Maybe you’re right. Let’s find a bigger window.”
“All the windows are the same size, Gertrude.”
“Fine. Then what do you suggest? I don’t exactly have time to go on a diet.”
“I think I should go through the window. Then I’ll find my way to the door and let you in.”
“Calvin! You’re smarter than a whip on Tuesday! You’re the best Watson ever.”
“Gertrude, if anyone is Watson, you are! Now, let’s just hope it’s unlocked.” He held his hand out to her.
She thought about taking it. Then thought better of it. “What?”
“The headlamp.”
“Oh,” she said and grudgingly handed it over.
He put it on and then got out of the car.
She sat in the car while he climbed onto the roof to check the window. She heard him say a naughty word and within seconds he was back in the driver’s seat. “Locked,” he said. “Just like I knew it would be.”
“Pretty spry for an old guy,” she said.
“Shut up.” He rubbed his hands together. “Can’t believe I’m about to get frostbite for you.” He put the car in drive and let it roll to the next window. Then he repeated the process.
After the fifth window, he climbed back into the car out of breath. “I am going to be so lame tomorrow. Probably won’t be able to get out of bed.”
“You probably won’t have to.”
The sixth window was the one. “This one’s unlocked,” he whispered down to her.
“You don’t have to whisper,” she said. “There’s no one here.”
“Well excuse me for not knowing how to behave during a robbery.”
She heard some grunting and peered up at him as he wrestled with the window. Finally, it slid open. He stuck his head in and peered around.
“What do you see?”
“A bunch of garbage,” came the muffled reply. “I’m going in.”
Then he bent his knees and jumped toward the window. His feet barely left the roof of the car, but it was enough for him to get his elbows in through the window. Then his legs just sort of dangled there helplessly for several seconds.
“Need a boost?” Gertrude asked.
“You stay off my car!” Calvin snapped, out of breath. He began to rock his body back and forth, and then, inch by inch, he disappeared through the window. Gertrude waited for a crashing sound that didn’t come.
Maybe he landed in something soft. She headed toward the closest door and waited.
And waited.
Calvin was the slowest trespasser in the history of trespassing. “Calvin!” she hollered through the door. “Hurry up!”
The door sprang open. “Why must you always be so loud?” he asked as she stepped into the darkness. “What’s that?”
“What’s what?”
“That giant rope you’ve got over your shoulder.”
“Oh, this is my prepper rope.”
“And you’ve brought it here because you’re planning to hang me?”
“Don’t be foolish. I brought it here so I could lasso the lamp.”
Calvin laughed so hard he began to wheeze. “Oh heavens, you really are trying to kill me.”
“What’s so funny? What did you think I was going to do? It’s not like I’m going to attempt the forklift again. That thing is broken. It only goes in reverse.”
“So you’re going to grab the lamp with a rope?”
“You’re the one who’s obsessed with westerns!”
“I like to watch them, not try to act them out in a dark thrift store!”
“Oh, come on,” she said, pushing past him. Then she said, “No really, come on. I can’t see without your headlamp.” They walked together then, her leading the way and him providing the light. “There!” she said, pointing upward. “See them? Dead birds!”
Calvin squinted. “Huh. You must have excellent eyesight.”
“Indeed, I do. Now step back, this might take me a couple of tries.” She began to swing the rope.
He put a hand on hers. “Wait.”
“What?”
“Let me try the forklift.”
“Why? What makes you think you can drive it?”
“Well, for starters, I’m considerably smarter than you.”
Gertrude crossed her arms and waited as Calvin and their only source of light headed toward the forklift. She heard it turn on and then voila! The forklift’s headlights came on. Then the forklift headed in her direction.
Well, I’ll be darned.
After a few failed attempts, Calvin managed to raise the forks. Up, up, up they went. “Say when,” Calvin said. “I can’t see too well from in here.”
“You couldn’t see too well from out here either,” Gertrude quipped. “Easy does it! You’re almost there! Another few feet!” She was so excited. They had almost done it. “Stop!”
Calvin stopped. He eased the forks under the bin and then, ever so gently, lifted some more. The stack wobbled, but only a little. He backed the forklift up and then lowered the beautiful blue bin to the floor. Gertrude hurried to it and started to grab the lamp.
“Don’t touch it!” Calvin cried.
“It’s all right!” she said, holding up a hand. “I’ve got gloves.”
Calvin climbed out of the forklift and joined her in gazing down at the world’s ugliest dead-bird-lamp. “So, that’s it, huh?”
“Yep. And look at this.” She pointed at the bottom of the lamp, which had dark, dried blood on it.
Calvin whistled. “Wow, look at that,” he said, and pointed to a bloody fingerprint.
“It’s the smoking gun,” Gertrude said.