water of his own and sat on a stool at the breakfast bar.
“How’d the math test go?” she asked.
“I got an A.”
“Good job.” She gave him a high five. “You’re on a roll.”
“You want one of these Rice Krispies Treats, Mom?” Jake peeled the plastic wrap from a paper plate she hadn’t noticed.
“Did Sally make these?” She bit into one, enjoying the sweet, sticky goodness.
Jake bit into one, too. “Uh-huh,” was his muffled reply.
THE REDHEAD barely glanced at Royce when they passed in the parking lot. Though she’d seemed distracted, he’d hoped for some spark of recognition.
Shrugging philosophically, he settled the grocery sack more securely on his hip and headed toward his apartment. Once inside, he went through the now-familiar process of making Rice Krispies Treats.
Royce swore under his breath as the mixing bowl scooted across the counter. He half suspected his upstairs neighbor was on his physical therapist’s payroll.
The first batch of snacks had been made only after he’d sat on the floor and braced the bowl between his shoes while he combined the marshmallow mixture with puffed rice.
But there was something almost barbaric about cooking that way. Now, he kept the bowl braced between his stomach and left arm so it wouldn’t slide all over the counter.
Damn.
His injured arm was still sensitive to pressure. He wiped his face against his shoulder. Who knew a fairly simple task could be such a workout? A year ago, he probably would have laughed at the idea. But now he was seeing things a whole lot differently.
It took at least four times longer than it should have, but finally, he had the treats cut and on a plate. He’d left the first plate two days ago. A coded rave review had come through yesterday. And this morning, a short request for more.
Glancing at his watch, he waited for the afternoon transmission. Three forty-five came and went. No message. What did that mean?
He heard footsteps upstairs.
Royce got out the broomstick and tapped on the ceiling. “U there?”
No answer.
He tapped again and still nothing.
Maybe he’d only heard one set of footsteps instead of two and the boy was home alone. And this wouldn’t be the first time he had been left on his own. What if the kid was hurt or something?
A man of action, Royce grabbed the plate of snacks and headed out the door.
Katy grated cheese for enchiladas with her phone wedged between her chin and shoulder as she talked. “Yes, Mom, I’m concerned, too. I’ll talk to Sally about it and make sure she only leaves five minutes before you pick up Jake when I’m out of town. But she’s worked for me for three years. I trust her.”
A knock sounded at the door.
“I’ll get it,” Jake hollered.
Katy dropped the cheese, the grater and nearly the phone. She managed to get the speaker covered before she called, “No you don’t, Jake.”
“Aw, Mom, that’s a silly rule.”
Katy said, “Mom, I’ll have to call you back.” She clicked her phone shut and hurried to the door.
“It’s probably just someone selling magazines.” Jake crossed his arms over his chest, a gesture so reminiscent of Katy’s late father she had to smile. “I can tell ’em to get lost as well as you can.”
Ruffling his hair, she said, “I bet you can. But it’s best if I do.”
She opened the door and saw a strange man standing there. A strange, good-looking man holding a plate of Rice Krispies Treats.
“May I help you?”
The man grinned. “These are for you. From 372 to 472.”
“Um, thank you.”
“I’m the one-handed guy.” He held up his left arm and she saw air where there should have been a hand.
“Yes, I…can see that.” Katy felt as if she’d been dropped in the middle of a Twilight Zone episode.
“I made these especially for you guys. Just like before.”
“Before?”
“Ask and you shall receive.” He eyed her expectantly as if she should invite him in.
“I think there’s some mistake. Maybe you have the wrong apartment.”
He glanced at the number on the door. “Nope. You’re 472, I’m 372. Someone’s been sending coded messages to me.”
Oh, great. Katy bet he wore a tinfoil hat to keep the aliens from interfering with his brain waves, too. Although he looked pretty normal. Other than his injured arm.
“Like I said, I’m sure you’re mistaken.” Except something about the treats was familiar….
“Just take them. The kid likes them.” He extended the plate.
“No, thank you.” She started to close the door.
The man planted his size-twelve shoe in the gap.
Recalling a recent burglary nearby, Katy’s protective instincts went into overdrive. Especially when she realized this man fit the thief’s description.
“Mom—”
She blocked Jake as he moved into view. Making a split-second decision, she brought the heel of her shoe down on the man’s instep.
He grunted in pain, cursed and withdrew his foot.
She slammed the door and flicked the dead bolt. Leaning back, she closed her eyes, relieved when she heard the sound of retreating footsteps.
“Are you okay?”
“Yes, honey, but I should call the police.”
“No, don’t!” Jake’s face was pale, his eyes wide with fear.
“It’s all right, the police will find the man and make sure he’s not sick or something. And if he’s a bad man, they’ll take him to jail.”
“He’s not a bad man! He’s my friend.”
An awful feeling started in the pit of Katy’s stomach. Then she recalled the plate of Rice Krispies Treats they’d had yesterday.
“Jake Garner, is there something you should tell me?”
“He’s our neighbor, Mom, so he’s not really a stranger and it’s okay that I asked him for Rice Krispies Treats.”
“You what? When?”
“The past couple of days while you’ve been at work. I got kinda lonely after school. I saw him in the elevator last week and thought it was pretty cool that he only had one hand. I’d been watching Frankenstein and figured maybe he could be somebody’s experiment someday and—”
“Get to the point, Jake.” How many times had she said that to her son? It seemed like thousands. He had such a vivid imagination.
“I figured maybe he was lonely, too,’ cause nobody looks at him once they notice his hand. They kinda pretend he’s not there. And I saw him getting mail one day for apartment 372. He was reading his mail, so he didn’t see me.”
“So he is our downstairs neighbor.”
“Yeah. One day I was bored and there were some weird shadows on the wall that made me think of monsters and stuff, so I started tapping out a code on the kitchen floor with a hammer. You know, so somebody would know if the shadows got me.”