Finding Minnie (A Two-Bit Love Story)

Home Again...?

Marie led us slowly up the cracked sidewalk. Her eyes were glassy, like she wasn't really seeing us. In all honesty, that scared the living crap out of me. Marie was our rock, and now it was like she had crumbled from nostalgia or something equally horrific.

[Okay, that was a bit out of line. But I honestly couldn't tell if Marie was just getting an overflow of wonderful feelings/memories or if she was remembering something horrible. Either way, she was not being herself and I did not like it.]

Marie stared at the door for a moment, then her eyes came back to focus. She jiggled the door handle either nervously or excitedly. Again, I couldn't tell.

"It's locked?"

I turned to see Fox, and it was like she was completely emulating Marie. Except Fox's eyes were glazed with excitement. She got like this when she rode dirt bikes, went street-surfing (street-surfing: transitive verb- to ride a skateboard-like device down a street or metropolitan roadway, being pulled by a car or other fast traveling vehicle using a waterski cable) or did something else stupidly dangerous of the sort. Fox didn't know real fear. Maybe she was just too stupid to know when to be afraid. Life was just one big adventure to her. Unfortunately, that was rather inconvenient for us, as now was a time to be very frightened.

Marie nodded. "Locked - But don't worry about it." She knelt, pulling up the doormat. A grin flashed across her face as she rose, gripping a small, very old-fashioned key.

I looked at her disbelievingly. "You have got to be kidding me."

Once again grinning, Marie shook her head as she shoved the key into the door. "Absolutely not. You've got to remember, this is 1965. Even the greasy side of town wasn't that maliciously creative." I heard the bolt click.

Charlie tapped me on the shoulder. Leaning towards my ear nervously, she whispered, "I don't like this. Something is wrong with...with..."

I met her fearful hazel eyes. This girl was at least smart enough to be afraid. "With what, precisely?"

"Both of them."'

"Who? Marie and Fox?"

Charlie bit her lip, then shook her head. "No. Well, yes. But Fox is normally like this, sort of. I meant...Marie, yes. And this...this house."

I was about to ask her what she meant exactly, but then Marie was ushering us into the house. "Hurry, don't dawdle. It's beginning to rain!"

She was right. The rain began softly at first, a pitter-patter on the porch's roof, but the drops became increasingly louder. And heavier.

Fox went into the house immediately, and after hesitating, I followed. I didn't want to go into the house, but I wasn't going to be accosted by the wind that had begun to pick up either, blowing the raindrops towards us.

The first thing that hit me about the house was the smell. It didn't smell like an abandoned house. It smelled...like apple pie. I searched the room for signs of life (or apple pie) but that was the second thing that struck me about the place. It didn't really look abandoned either. The furniture was intact, as far as I could tell through the darkness. Fox was investigating as well.

"Marie?" Fox called. No answer from the porch. "Marie!" Silence.

Suddenly Marie pushed through the door, brushing back her mop of now considerably damp hair. She jerked her thumb towards the door irately. "Charlie won't budge. Says you couldn't drag her in here for all the gold in El Dorodo."

"Interesting analogy," Fox mused distractedly. "Marie, where are the lights? I can't find the switches."

"Fox!" I scolded. "We have to get Charlie in here, she can't stay out there in the rain!"