Straddling the peak, I tossed a corner of plastic over the chimney. The wind caught the edge, blowing it back in my face. I stood and tried again, legs shaky beneath me. I managed to get the sheeting over the stones. With a pull, the material tightened. I stuck tape to the plastic and wound it around. By the time I was done, the chimney looked like I’d taken it hostage.
Satisfied, I took a breather with my back against the stones. A raindrop landed on my cheek. Then the plastic beneath me crinkled. Surprised, I twisted to find the source of the movement.
The rope.
In the near blackness, one side sped up toward the chimney, while the other rushed down toward the ledge.
I gave a shout as I realized my sole means of getting off the roof safely was quickly disappearing. I made a grab for it, but the plastic interfered and the fibers slipped through my grasp.
What was happening? It was as if someone on the ground was trying to strand me on the roof.
“Hey, stop! I’m up here!” I screamed, my voice billowing in a thousand directions in the storm.
The end of the rope slid past. I instinctively made a grab for it, clenching the final three inches in my hands for less than a second as it continued with force on its way to the ground.
“Hey!” I screamed again, hoping for mercy. “Help! I’m up here!”
In desperation, I calculated the trajectory of my body in a slide down the roof. With friction, wind direction, and speed taken into consideration, the chances of landing at the top rung of the ladder without toppling to the ground were basically nil.
And yet at this point, with rain about to ruin my chance of escape, a good dose of lunacy was my only hope.
I laid on my stomach, clinging to the peak, angling for the best course. Visions of broken legs, punctured lungs, and shattered vertebrae, followed by a lengthy confinement, kept me frozen in place.
I looked behind me, down the slope of the roof. It could be possible… I might actually pull it off…
I watched in horror as the top of the ladder jiggled and pulled away from the roof. A moment later, it keeled sideways out of view. A muffled cry floated up from the ground along with the clatter of metal.
Someone stole my ladder.
“Whoa! Hey! That’s my ladder!” I climbed, straddling the peak once more, praying I’d see the top rung come back into view. “Help! Help!”
Rain splattered my cheeks. The tap tap tap around me as drops landed on the shingles soon turned to a deafening roar. In seconds I was soaked, the heat of September exchanged for icy wetness.
Shivers streaked through my body. A numbness swept over my mind. Why was I up on a rooftop in a rainstorm? No amount of reason could justify my circumstances. And yet it had seemed so logical a few hours earlier, when the storm lingered over the Pacific and daylight had illuminated my path.
I took a deep breath. How could I know some thief would come after my ladder? I wasn’t irresponsible, just jinxed.
Unable to save myself, I pulled up a section of tape and climbed under the plastic, leaving myself an air tunnel. At least I’d have some protection while I waited to be rescued.
15
The rain poured down around me, the pattering on the roof of my garden shed enough to drive me crazy. I played around with an assortment of tools, displaying them in a way that would catch the interest of a prospective buyer. I hummed as I worked, a song Brad’s sister had written for their father.
Then will come that dawn,
When all around the angels sing,
Christ Jesus takes my hand,
And I feel it touching yours again…
Something flashed past the tiny shed window. I jumped, my heart racing.
It could have been my friendly doe, the one that always visited my neck of the woods here at my log home on the lake.
But through the sound of rain crackling on trees and grass and shingles, there came a knock on the shed door.
I jerked back at the unexpected noise.
“Who’s there?” I moved with baby steps toward the door.
“It’s me.” The voice was so familiar. Soft and deep, saying “I love you” with its very tone.
Oh my. Brad. It was Brad.
I raced to the door, throwing it open.
He stood there looking at me with his corny grin.
“You’re here!” I jumped at him, landing against his body, hugging him to me. We stood in the open, me squealing in glee to see him, and Brad making that wonderful chuckling in his chest.
“I missed you so much,” I whispered in his ear.
“I miss you too,” he said.
I laughed, then almost cried to see the crinkles I loved so much around his sparkling brown eyes.
“My goodness.” I touched his cheek. “I was getting worried that I’d never see you again.” I smiled at him, vaguely wondering why we weren’t getting wet though rain still fell around us.
“Come home, Tish. It’s okay to come home.”
I felt giddy at his words, thrilled that we’d get to be together all the time now.
But… I was home. The garden shed was just a few yards from my house. I turned around to look at the shed, getting the strangest feeling that something wasn’t right.
I gasped at the sight of only smoldering ashes behind me. There was no garden shed. It had burned down in the spring.
Twirling, I grabbed for Brad, knowing even as I did that he would slip through my grasp. He became pale as I watched him. My eyes pleaded with him to stay. I squeezed his hands tighter, willing him to remain with me. But my fingers turned wet and Brad slipped away, disappearing into swirling smoke.
When he was out of sight, I looked at my hands.
They were covered in blood.
I woke up screaming, tangled in the plastic that protected me from the rain pummeling my perch. I wiped something sharp and grainy from my cheek. Sandpaper would have made a better pillow than asphalt shingles. I rested my head on the back of my hands and hoped the terrible nightmare would fade with the storm.
After my bad dream, sleep eluded me. So when I woke to the chirping of birds and the faint glow of dawn, I nearly rolled off the roof in surprise. I estimated the time to be around six or so. Only an hour more and Celia would arrive.
I slapped the shingles in frustration. No, Celia wouldn’t arrive. She was working this morning. My next hope wouldn’t come around until ten o’clock, with Simon and Dagger.
“Help! Somebody help me!” Where was my mysterious bodyguard when I needed him?
I put out the call every few minutes, hoping someone would respond. But I was stuck on a roof in the back section of a deserted subdivision. What were the chances?
Trapped alone with my mind, I tried to stay calm and not obsess over the extreme amounts of cortisol that could be flooding my brain at that very moment. I wanted to beg God for angels and a helicopter, but couldn’t help feeling I deserved whatever consequences resulted from my foolishness.
A few hours later, I begged him anyway.
“Please, God, I know I’m stupid and I’m trying really hard to quit being that way, but could you please, please, please just get me off this roof in one piece?” My forehead scrunched tight as I concentrated. “And if you really love me, no one will ever find out I was stranded up here all night long in a rainstorm.”
It had to be at least ten thirty before Dagger showed up. He walked down the street with his gangsta swagger.
“Hey! Up here!” I waved my arms.
He stared at me as he moved closer to the house.
“Yo. Alisha. What’s up?”
“I’m so glad you’re here.” I swallowed all pride. “Can you see if there’s a ladder lying at the side of the house?”
He disappeared from view. He was back in sight a few seconds later, squinting up at me. “No ladder. Ray said he dropped it here last night. What’d you do? Fly?” He hummed a laugh.
“No joke, Dagger. Please help me get down.”