The Entirely Fabricated Story of Lizzie Nickerson

Chapter 53

As Lizzie reached for the doorknob, Sonya called from upstairs.

"Lizzie! Is that you?"

"It's not the Easter Bunny." She wore a small self-congratulatory smile. She made a joke right there on the spot. It was a silly thing to say but she was pretty sure it still qualified as humor. 

"Don't keep me waiting!" Sonya's voice sounded sing-songy and happy. "I got a call from your school counselor! Hippity-hop up here!"

No hopping for Lizzie. She ascended the stairs carefully. She could feel her aunt's happiness streaming down from the third floor and wrapping around her almost lifting her off her feet.

"The Cincinnati Academy of Science and Technology!" Sonya shrieked. 

Lizzie winced. "You're hurting my ears."

Sonya stepped out of the doorway to make room for her niece to enter. "Lizzie, that's super amazing!" Her eyes went wide. "This is a big deal!"

To Lizzie, it didn't feel amazing or like a big deal.

"Can I give you a little hug?"

"Oh, geez. Okay. Let me get a drink first." She slipped her backpack from her aching shoulders, dropped it on the floor, and then filled a drinking glass.

Sonya pushed the door closed. "Come on. I want my hug. You can finish your water in a minute." She slid her arms around the girl and pulled Lizzie's head against her chest.

"Is that enough hugging?" Lizzie said, her face partially buried in Sonya's shirt.

"Actually, it's not but I guess it will have to do. I am so happy for you."

"I guess I'm happy for me, too. Sorta."

"This project they want you to work on. What is the electrome? Did I say that right?"

"It's about the electricity that all the cells in our bodies generate."

"Electricity?"

"You never felt yours? Oh, geez, every cell in every part of our body has an electric charge. Like how our brains send signals to all the other parts of our bodies."

Sonya's forehead wrinkled. "Did you just hear that?"

"I just heard myself talking."

"Is somebody at the door?"

Before Lizzie could respond, Sonya peeked out into the hallway.

BANG! The door flew wide open and there stood Tyson Russko. He clamped Sonya's wrist in his grimy hand, a crazy fury blazing in his wide eyes locked on Lizzie. In his other white-knuckled hand, he brandished a knife.

Sonya went rigid, a scream stuck in her throat.

When Lizzie saw him raising his weapon, she snatched her drinking glass from the counter and hurled the water into his face. He jerked backward, startled and choking.

Lizzie, yanked her aunt into the apartment, both of them landing in a heap on the floor. Sonya kicked the door shut. She frantically launched herself at the door and secured the locks a split second before Tyson threw his shoulder against it like a battering ram. The hinges squealed but held tight. Sonya screeched.

"I'm calling the police!" she shouted, thumbing her phone.

Lizzie heard the tattooed-face lunatic thundering down the stairs, grunting and ranting. She closed her eyes, summoning her mind map of the apartment building, envisioning his escape route.

Descending the first flight, he'd be headed toward the back of the building. The next flight would take him in the opposite direction, toward the front door.

She scrambled down the hallway toward her room, stumbling and light-headed, the drinking glass in her hand.

"A man just broke into my apartment and attacked me!" Sonya shouted into her phone.

Lizzie dashed into her bedroom, went to her window overlooking the front street, and pulled it open. On her way toward her desk, she lost her balance, her lanky legs twisted at the ankles. She winced when her bony elbows made contact with the hardwood floor. She pulled herself up, found her footing, and then scooped Buddy out of his fishbowl with the drinking glass. She wrapped her arms around the fishbowl, surprised by its weight. On her way back toward the window, she grunted with each step, cloudy water sloshing over her skinny arms, onto the floor.

With her pulse pounding in her ears, Lizzie listened for the sound of the apartment building's front door bursting open, then heaved the fishbowl out the window. Her calculations were spot on. Tyson Russko leaped from the porch steps just as the hurtling glass fishbowl made contact with the back of his head.

Typically, Lizzie despised loud noises but not this one. She leaned out of the open window as the fishbowl exploded against Tyson's cranium, taking him down as though he'd been hit by a truck. His knife clattered on the pavement.

Neighbors and pedestrians screamed. An eruption of broken glass and fish tank gravel bounced and scattered across the concrete sidewalk.

Tyson lay still.

Sonya rushed into the room, gulping air, phone in hand. When she discovered Lizzie hanging out of the window, she poked her head outside. Revolted by the gruesome sight, she pulled her niece back into the room.

"Oh, Lizzie." Her voice jittered. "What did you do?"

"I stopped him. He was trying to run away from the police."

"Well, you sure did."

"Oh, geez." Lizzie peered out the window as a crowd gathered. "Why is he just lying there?"