7

Horace was standing in the entryway holding a gray suit on a hanger.

“What’s this?” I asked.

“Your suit, Alfred.”

“I don’t own a suit.”

“You do now. You need to try it on to see if it fits. Tomorrow afternoon is the hearing. And you gotta look nice for the judge, Al,” he said.

I brushed past him, went into the bathroom, and proceeded to floss. After a second there was a soft knock and Horace whispered from the other side.

“Hey, Al, I think you forgot the suit. I’ll just hang it here on the knob. We’re having fried chicken for dinner. Isn’t that your favorite?”

I didn’t answer and Horace went away.

I went into the bedroom and pulled my old duffel bag from the closet. It took about five minutes to pack because I didn’t have much. The door opened and Kenny came in.

“What are you doing, Alfred Kropp?”

“Packing,” I said.

“You’re leaving!”

I looked up at him. He started to cry.

“Don’t do that, Kenny. I don’t want Horace and Betty to know.”

“Where are you going?”

“I don’t know. I’ll figure it out.”

“Take me with you.”

“I can’t.”

“Why?”

“I just can’t, okay? Look, it’s going to be all right. I can’t live here, Kenny. Horace is plotting to adopt me and take all my money and I can’t let that happen.”

He climbed onto the top bunk and refused to come down for dinner, but I ate to keep up appearances, plus I didn’t know where my next meal was coming from. I planned to slip out the window as soon as Horace and Betty went to bed.

Around eleven I heard the Tuttles go to their room.

“Alfred Kropp is leaving me to die,” Kenny muttered in the top bunk.

I sighed. “Look, when I get to wherever I’m going, I’ll call you to make sure everything’s okay. And if it’s not okay I’ll come back and rescue you. How’s that?”

“You’ll rescue me? You promise?”

“I promise.”

I guess that satisfied him, because he quieted down. It was time to go, but I didn’t move. What was I waiting for? I had thought Ashley’s pity was the sign I needed, but now leaving was the last thing I wanted to do.

Looking back now, I wonder what would have happened if I had gotten off my big butt and left that moment. If I had snuck out ten or even five minutes earlier would the horrors I was about to unleash on the world have been averted?

I’ll never know, because I didn’t leave that moment. I was waiting for Kenny’s breathing to even out. It must have been close to midnight when he yelled, “What’s that? I heard something, Alfred Kropp, outside the window.”

“I didn’t hear anything.”

“I heard it. I—” He stopped himself, then hissed: “There’s someone outside our window.”

“Look, Kenny,” I said. “There’s nobody outside the window.”

But he wouldn’t settle down until I checked the window. I pulled up the blinds and squinted through the glass, resting my hands on the sill. I turned my head toward the top bunk.

“See, Kenny? There’s nothing—”

Suddenly, the window exploded inward, just like it would in a horror movie, when the teenager turns and says, “See, there’s nothing there.” Two large, black-gloved hands shot through and grabbed my wrists. I was dragged through the broken window before I could even make a sound.

The Seal of Solomon
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