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Gertrude lived in a trailer park. Sandra turned in but then slowed to a crawl. She wasn’t sure how to proceed. She didn’t know what she was driving into, and she didn’t want to put Joanna in harm’s way.
“Mama, we’re not moving.”
It was true. She had stopped in the narrow road. She tapped her thumb on the steering wheel, trying to make up her mind. She hated being indecisive.
Bob reappeared. “We’ve got to hurry. Don’t worry about Joanna. Macholyadah is here.”
It took a second to remember who that was. Then she was astounded. “He is?” She looked around in the dark. “Where?”
“Right beside Joanna.”
Joanna gasped.
Sandra looked in the rearview mirror but couldn’t see her daughter’s face in the darkness.
“Keep driving,” Bob said.
Sandra gingerly stepped on the gas.
“Gertrude is in trailer number three. April is trying to break in through the back—”
“What?” She stomped on the brake. “We should call the police!”
“Fine. You do that with the cell phone you left locked in a dance studio.”
Sandra growled. If she was going to keep this up, she would need to get a key from Joyelle. She tapped the gas pedal again, and the van rolled forward. Seconds later, they were parked in front of trailer number three. “What do I do?” Sandra whispered.
“Let’s go in.” He was no longer in the van.
“Wait!” She tried to whisper loudly, and it sounded like a hiss. She rolled down his window and leaned over. “Do you promise that Macho ...” That wasn’t quite right. She tried again, “Mawcko ...” She couldn’t do it. “Do you swear that the dance angel is here?”
Bob frowned. “I would not tell a lie. He’s right beside her. Now, come on!”
Sandra studied him. Was he telling the truth? He had to be, right? She wished she had Gertrude’s ability to sniff out fibs.
Bob was headed up Gertrude’s front steps.
Fine. She unbuckled and climbed out of the van. Then she turned to look at her daughter. “Be right back, honey. If you need anything, ask the angel.” She looked at the empty seat beside Joanna. Joanna looked too, and her face lit up in a wide smile. “Can you see him?” Sandra asked softly, suddenly feeling reverent.
Joanna looked at her. “Can’t you?”
“Come on!” Bob hollered, his hand on the doorknob.
Sandra slammed the van door and ran to Bob, who was now knocking.
“Holler to her. Tell her to let us in,” Bob commanded.
“Gertrude!” Sandra shouted.
No one answered.
“Gertrude!” she shouted again more loudly.
“I’ll do it.” The door sprang open a few inches.
“Hey there!” a voice shouted from behind. The voice was obviously from an older person, but the authority in it made a chill dance up her spine, as if she’d been caught red-handed at something particularly wretched.
She spun around to look.
It was Calvin. “You!” he cried. “What are you doing?”
“Gertrude’s in trouble!” She ducked into the dark trailer and was immediately disoriented. What little light filtered in through the curtains lit what looked like mountains of boxes. Was this Gertrude’s home? Or some weird trailer warehouse? She looked around for Bob but couldn’t see him. “Gertrude?” she called.
A crash sounded from deeper in the trailer, and a woman whimpered. The whimper sounded too dainty to be Gertrude.
“April, stop,” Sandra said, trying to use her firm ref voice.
April didn’t stop. Sandra heard her moving about, and then she smashed into something else.
“Gertrude! Where are you?” Sandra tried to head toward the sounds, but she couldn’t find an opening in the mountain of boxes. Had April built a barricade? That didn’t make sense.
She heard Calvin step in behind her.
Something above Sandra wailed, and her heart nearly stopped as the being flew over her head so close she could feel it. She whirled around to look into the darkness, and the light from the window reflected in the thing’s eyes, making them glow green. Good grief, it was only a cat. She turned back around to find herself staring directly into the face of another. “Excuse me, kitty.” She started to move the boxes, thinking she’d have to dig her way through the room, but then the first cat—the scary one—walked directly through the stacks.
Sandra saw her tail vanish into the boxes and moved in that direction, running her hand along the boxes as she went. Her eyes were starting to adjust, but she still had a feeling the place was booby-trapped.
Sure enough, there was the opening. Calvin flicked on the lights, momentarily blinding her. Why hadn’t he done that sooner? He probably hadn’t been able to find a light switch.
Now she could clearly see the maze in front of her. Indeed, Gertrude’s living room was full of boxes and totes stacked neatly from floor to ceiling. It reminded her of the prop room at her son’s theater, except nothing was labeled. She weaved through the stacks, counting one, two, three, four cats watching her as she went. The original cat who had led her into this tunnel had disappeared.
Sandra could see that the path opened out ahead of her, and she sped up to get to that open space, feeling a bit claustrophobic. But before she could reach the clearing, the wall beside her wobbled and then was falling directly at her. She tried to put an arm out, but she was too late. An incredibly heavy box hit her in the head, and she saw stars.
