Jane and the Fire – Part XXI

In 1958, young Jane has just moved to the city of Chicago, Illinois with her parents and cousins Billy. While investigating a strange and abandoned mansion that, for some reason, is of interest to the Three Thugs, Jane and her friends are forced to run inside the mansion. They are essentially cornered… will the story end here?

So lost was Mr. Bennet in musing about the past that he almost missed the newspaper that lay in the corner of the porch. Today’s paper? Why would that be on the porch? He bent to pick it up. It must have blown over from the paperstand across the street. One of the stories on the front page was Frank Almond’s retirement. He snorted derisively and straightened up, taking two steps before he stopped, staring at the door.

“Gentlemen,” called Mr. Bennet. Mr. Peele and Mr. McCawley came around to meet him. They looked questioningly at him.

“There’s someone in the house.”

“Impossible!” Mr. McCawley cried. Mr. Peele had paled.

“No one can get inside,” said Mr. McCawley in an irritated manner, “The door is padlocked.”

“Idiot!” Mr. Bennet snapped. “We installed that false padlock to discourage meddlesome fools like from snooping around this place. It was YOUR idea!”

Jane, Paige, and Don crouched behind the sofa in the hall of the old house, barely ten feet from the door and close enough to hear the Thugs’ raised-voice conversation. They were frozen with fear.

“Ahhh, yes,” Mr. McCawley grinned, “That’s right, I’d forgotten.”

“So, what do we do about it?” gritted Mr. Bennet. “What if it’s cops waiting for us to implicate ourselves?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Mr. Peele sputtered. “This building has no connection to us. What we should be worried about is the one person who could have seen the photo of this building that day in the Café. Remember, when I dropped the fake newspaper with the photo inside? We should be worried about Wallace Joyce!”

His voice rose higher and louder until it crescendo-ed in a shriek on “Wallace Joyce!”

Paige covered her ears at that horrible sound. Don glared. “Is now a time to be sensitive about sound?”

Meanwhile, Mr. McCawley was smiling absently. “Ah, yes, I’d forgotten about that fake newspaper. I certainly am brilliant; that was also my idea. Repurposing everyday items as clever false items, I certainly am brilliant…”

Mr. Bennet pierced him with a stare of wrath. “Your ideas are all stupid! The newspaper didn’t work! And we should have just used a real padlock for this door, and no one would have gotten in!”

“Good padlocks are an investment,” Mr. McCawley argued.

Jane looked around her, in the dusty, meager hall. There was nowhere to hide in the hall or dining mess. An empty, varnished-board staircase lead a dark upper floor. Going upstairs would be a mistake – it would be harder for them to escape the house if even one Thug stopped in front of the stairs to guard them; hiding upstairs would mean hiding until discovered or hiding until it would be possible to run away. The frightening waiting would be too much to bear – no, hiding upstairs wasn’t an option.

There was a dusky inner hall leading away from the living room where they crouched. She crept up the stairs quickly, and then, ensuring to step only in her previous footprints in the dust, hurried back down the stairs. Jane nudged Paige and Don, gesturing toward the hall. Fortunately, they understood. Quietly, they tiptoed toward the inner hall. The walls were as dark as a chalkboard, and the grimy floorboards were scuffed and equally shady. They could see patches of light illuminating the room.

“Let’s try to see what these rooms are holding,” whispered Don, “and we can try to get out through the windows or doors where the light is coming from.”

“Getting out safely is the first priority,” whispered Paige back. “The Thugs will come in any minute!”

Outside the house, the Thugs’ fear was turning to staunch resolution.

“We’re going inside,” decided Mr. McCawley. “Come what may!”

And with a long creak, he pushed the door in, and the Thugs entered.

The Three Thugs examined the living room carefully. They checked the closets and checked behind the coffee table. Suddenly, Mr. Bennet chuckled. He laughed louder. The other two Thugs looked at him, concerned. “It’s not Wallace Joyce. It’s some intruder who is now stuck upstairs.” He pointed to the footprints Jane had made in the dust on the stairs. With relief in their hearts, the Thugs ascended the stairs.

The children had passed from the second, dingy, chalkboard-like room to the source of the light. Once they entered the second room, they’d discovered that it was merely a hall connecting the entrance hall to two passages – one with light and one dingier.

“It doesn’t look like sunlight,” breathed Paige. “It’s a very bright light set up here.” 🌳 The story will continue next month!