Lost Boys by Darcey Rosenblatt

Author:Darcey Rosenblatt
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Henry Holt and Co. (BYR)

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

As promised, Miles had invited an old man from town to spend two hours after lunch talking about the inside of a watch. It seemed like a boring idea to me, but several other guys had fathers and grandfathers who were jewelers. Over our lunch of gray lentils and overcooked onions, they talked about opening their own shops when they got home.

Even boys who never went to Miles’s classes wanted to see a new face. By the time Jaafer and I had finished our lentils and walked into the waning winter sun, the yard was deserted except for a group in the far corner.

“I heard Borzin made a deal for a newspaper.” Jaafer pointed across the yard. “He’ll be cleaning the toilet for a month. Let’s check the scores.”

“You go ahead,” I said, pulling my jacket close. “I’m gonna take a leak, maybe sit there awhile to stay warm.”

“You’re going to that stupid watch thing up in Room Six, aren’t you?”

“No. I just don’t want to freeze here for two hours. I’ll be back in a while.”

Laughing, Jaafer headed toward the group of boys. “Please yourself, but you’ll have to pay me to tell you the scores.”

“Yeah, right,” I shouted back. I stepped into the dark hallway and walked directly to the classroom we’d been in that morning. The tar was calling me, calling so loud and clear it was a wonder no one else heard. I stood before the closed door.

Somewhere in my head I heard Uncle say, Open the door, Cub. Nothing there to bite you.

I reached for the knob. It didn’t move. I was just about to turn away when I noticed a row of windows above the classroom door. The first one was ajar, and I wondered if I could get up there and fit through it.

I looked up and down the hall. Ten feet away was a rickety chair. Without making a sound, I picked it up and placed it below the window. Standing on the wobbly seat, I could just reach the windowsill. I gripped it with all my strength and hoisted myself up.

Twice I was able to get my head past the sill to peek in, but I couldn’t pull my shoulders up. I stood on the chair and took a deep breath. Pulling again, I finally fit my shoulders through the opening and gently pushed until my waist rested on the windowsill.

Hanging above the room, I realized I was stuck.

It was at this exact moment that I heard a door open down the hall, followed by footsteps. It sounded as if someone was around the corner. They’d be on me in seconds. I thought of the diving board on the platform at the lake where I used to swim. The footsteps came closer. I tucked my head and dove.

After clattering to the floor, I lay in a ball. Could I have been any stupider? Even if the person connected to the footsteps hadn’t seen my legs hanging out the window, he would have had to be deaf not to hear the racket.

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