Watchers

Under the Tub

When I opened my eyes again, everything was calm. Everything was resting and quiet and still. Except my arm hurt really bad. There was a bathtub over my head. Adam was sitting next to me. And someone else was sitting next to him. Someone large – or not a kid, anyway. I couldn't see him because it was kind of dark, so I elbowed Adam.

"Ow!" he cried. "What are you doing, Cole?"

"Trying to wake you up!"

"Fine! I'm awake." I heard him groan. "Geez, my arm hurts."

"Mine too," I said, trying to pull my left arm up to look at it. Then I realized it was sort of stuck under the edge of the tub. "This stupid tub is sitting on my arm."

Adam shifted around a little. "Yeah. Same here."

"What the heck are we doing under a bathtub anyway?"

"Somebody pulled us here."

I nudged him and dropped my voice to a whisper. "It's that guy there . . . next to you."

Adam hadn't known somebody else was under there with us. We were scrunched up enough as it was, with our knees against our chests and one of each of our arms stuck under the side of the tub. So how that other guy was under there too was kind of unclear. I think his legs were on the outside.

"Wake him up!" I whispered.

Adam looked at me like I was nuts. I could see his wide eyes even with how dim it was. "You!"

"I can't," I said in aggravation. "He's sitting next to you." He still wasn't budging. "Come on. Don't be such a chicken. He saved our lives, probably."

Adam sighed. "Fine. But I'm not doing any talking. You can talk." I rolled my eyes but didn't say anything rude.

Adam gave the guy a little shove, but to both of our surprise, he said, "I'm already awake. I've just been listening." Neither of us knew what to say. The man, whose face was shadowy, went on. "Let's get out from under here, all right?" Then, with the kind of strength that a grown man would have (and Adam's and my muscles combined wouldn't), the guy heaved up his shoulders and hoisted the tub off of us. Our arms were released and both of us started checking to make sure they still worked. When I looked around, I saw that we were sitting in the bathroom of room number fourteen at the Coach Motel. The light overhead was buzzing, trying to fully turn itself back on. It made things look creepy and dark. The man opened the bathroom door and motioned for Adam and me to head out.

When we saw the motel room, the three of us gaped. The place was pretty much demolished. Bright, summer morning sunlight shone over the boards of torn-down walls and the empty bed frame. Who knew where the mattress had flown off to. The TV was still, strangely, standing in the same place, and it was working. The news was on, and the weather man was blabbering about the tornado damage that had occurred throughout the night. It was the weirdest thing ever.

I knew we had to thank the guy who'd shoved us under the tub. Looking up at him, I saw his face for the first time. It was narrow and long, with dark eyes and a thin smile. His hair was dark and kind of shaggy, and he was wearing faded jeans and a wind-breaker. He looked very nice, actually, like a really nice guy. Someone who would swerve off the road to avoid running over a chipmunk. I didn't feel too nervous to talk to him.

"Hey," I said, holding out my hand. "My name is Cole. Thanks for helping us. We'd probably be flying through the air if you hadn't come."

He shook my hand, and I liked his shake. It was real. "You're welcome, Cole."

Adam was surveying the guy with a skeptical expression. He didn't seem to trust him. "How did you know we were in here? Were you just in the area or something?"