“ How do you know?”
“ That’s the way everybody does it. Why would you wanna put a lock on the inside, if you didn’t have to?”
“ You sure?”
“ No, but I can’t think of anything else.”
“ Maybe we should come back tomorrow, or maybe we can get some silver somewhere else.”
“ Come on, don’t be a baby.” He bent over and laced his fingers into a stirrup. “I’d do it myself, but I’m too fat.”
“ I don’t think I can.”
“ You gotta, it’s the only way.” He tightened his fingers, but still she hesitated.
“ Think of the werewolf and what she will do to us if we don’t get those dimes,” he said.
She stepped into his laced fingers, without answering, and he hoisted her up. She grabbed onto the top of the fence, with tiny hands, and pulled herself up, till she was able to get a leg on it. Then she rolled over it and eased herself down into the backyard, as silently as a fly entering a spider’s trap.
“ I’m going ’round to the gate,” Arty whispered into the night. She imagined him still running his hand along the fence as he hurried around the yard to the driveway.
Carolina dropped into a garden. Mr. Lightfoot liked to grow his own vegetables and she tried to step through them, without ruining anything. She had to walk through the garden to get to the grass and the gate beyond. An owl hooted as she picked her way through, startling her.
“ Come on,” she heard Arty’s urgent whisper cutting through the night. There was a nail through the latch where a lock should have been. She pulled it out and swung the gate open.
“ Are you okay?” he whispered.
“ Yeah.”
“ Then let’s hurry so we can get outta here,” Arty said, before he turned and led her to the back porch.
The owl hooted again, sending night shivers through both of them.
“ Look,” he said, “the bathroom window is open.”
“ It’s too high,” she said.
“ I’ll have to boost you up, then you can let me in the back door.”
“ I can’t do it. Not again.”
“ It’s the only way.”
“ I’m sorry, I guess I shouldn’t have come, I’m scared and I don’t want to go in there alone.”
He thought about arguing with her, but didn’t. He was scared, too, but that was different. He was a guy. He was supposed to overcome his fear, and not let on that he was afraid. Girls didn’t have to do that. Besides, she went over the fence, if it wouldn’t have been for her, they wouldn’t have gotten this far. It was up to him to get them the rest of the way.
If only he wasn’t so fat, then she could boost him up. He resolved that if they got through this night, he would lose weight. No more donuts, no more candy bars and Pepsi, no more second helpings, and no more dessert. He further resolved, that he would study and work at the karate lessons until he was thin and tough.
“ Okay, we’ll find another way,” he said. He went to the back door. He tried the knob. It wasn’t locked.
“ Good thing I didn’t go through that window,” she whispered.
“ Yeah,” he whispered back. He opened the door. It made a screeching, squeaking sound, like it hadn’t ever been oiled. Arty bit his lip and they waited to see if anyone was going to catch them.
“ We should leave,” she whispered.
He shook his head, took a deep breath, and entered the house. She followed, leaving the back door open. The house was silent and forbidding. The small bathroom door off the kitchen was open, reminding Arty that he had to go, but he couldn’t, not now. He didn’t want to be in the house any longer than necessary.
He took Carolina’s hand and led her through the kitchen to the hallway. They were both taking shallow, quiet breaths as they tiptoed across the tile floor. She tightened her hand on his, pulling him to a quiet stop, just before they reached the hallway.
He turned and she put her mouth to his ear and whispered, “It feels like there’s someone else here.” They both held their breath for a few seconds and listened.
Nothing. But Arty had the same feeling. A tingly feeling, like someone was watching. But after a few seconds of silence, he was confident they were alone in the house. He started down the hallway, pulling her behind him.
“ Let’s get the dimes and get out of here,” he whispered.
She nodded her head in the dark.
“ He keeps the coins in his desk, in the den.”
“ How do you know?”
“ I’ve been here before. On Sunday mornings I trade a paper for a half dozen donuts at the donut shop, then I come by here and split ’em with Harry. He supplies the milk and I bring the donuts. We sit and talk and sometimes he shows me his coins. He has lots,” he was still whispering, but louder than before.
She followed him into the den.
“ Over here.” Arty led her to a roll top desk.
“ It’s beautiful.” She ran her hands along the smooth oak. “I’ll bet it’s old.” She wasn’t whispering at all.
“ Real old.” He rolled the top open. “It’s an antique.” He pulled open one of the drawers, reached inside it and pulled out a stack of blue folders. He laid them on the desk.
“ Coin albums.” He opened one and showed it to her. “This one’s Lincoln head pennies. See, he has every one from 1909 to now.”
“ Has he got one for silver dimes?”
“ Yeah, but we don’t want that.”
“ Why not?”
“ It takes a long time and a lot of work to fill one of these,” he said. “All we need is one roll.” He reached into the back of the drawer and pulled out several rolls of coins. “This will do.” He put three dime rolls into his front pocket. He only needed one, but he took two extra, just in case.
“ Can we go now?”
“ Soon as we put the rest back.” He shoved the rolled coins back into the back of the drawer, then put away the coin albums. Carolina sighed as he closed the drawer. In a few minutes they would be safely out of the house.
“ It still feels like someone is watching us,” she whispered, “let’s go.”
“ There’s no one here,” Arty said, “but we’re outta here anyway.”
“ You should pay attention to the lady,” a whisper rasped through the room. “She sees without seeing. She sensed I was here all along, but she allowed you to push the feeling away.”
The light came on and Carolina gasped.
“ Never fight your intuition, young miss. Believe in it and it will serve you well. And, Arty, all you had to do was ask,” Harry Lightfoot said, “and the roll of dimes would have been yours. Everything I have is yours for the asking. That’s what friends are for.”
“ Sorry, Harry,” Arty said with a bowed head. Arty hadn’t ever thought of Harry as a friend. He was older, more like an uncle, but now that he thought about it, Harry was a friend. His friend. And he’d let him down.
“ You come in the night, like a thief, but you don’t take the gold coins one drawer down. You don’t stuff your pockets full of silver dollars. You don’t run off with the coin albums. And you don’t steal the money you know is hidden in a false bottom under the coin albums. All you take is a five dollar roll of silver dimes, worth less than fifty dollars.”
“ I’m really sorry, Harry.”
“ So it’s not money you’re after, is it Arty?”
Arty shook his head.
“ And you’re not here on a childish dare, because you wouldn’t do anything like that, would you, Arty?”
Arty shook his head again.
“ So it’s something serious. So serious that you would steal from a friend. So serious that you would risk going to jail. So serious that you would overcome your sense of right and wrong, not to mention your fear, and break into my house, when you thought I was gone. That’s it, isn’t it, Arty?”
Arty nodded his head.
“ It’s the silver, isn’t it?”
Arty nodded again.
“ You think you can kill it with the silver, don’t you?”
Arty nodded again.
“ It’s not an animal, is it?
Arty shook his head.