The Trick by Emanuel Bergmann

Author:Emanuel Bergmann
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Atria Books

Ever since Harry had moved out, Deborah had difficulties sleeping. A recurring dream troubled her: she was sitting alone in a boat at dusk, in the middle of a lake. There was no sound and no sign of life around her, everything was perfectly still. She felt completely abandoned, and her boat was adrift, she had no power over it, the course could not be changed. As it floated by the shore, which was overgrown with wild plants, she saw the crumbling ruins of a long-lost civilization. There were square-hewn stones, fallen columns, and collapsed arches. Remnants of a once-great architecture, now abandoned to the wilderness. Deborah would reach out in an attempt to pull herself ashore, but whenever she did, there was a gust of wind, or a surging current, and she would be cast back toward the center of the lake, further adrift, more alone than ever.

Suddenly, she woke up. There was a noise coming from the hallway. She listened intently. There it was again. She couldn’t place it. Was it Max? She looked around. He was lying next to her, snoring slightly. He, too, had been having difficulties sleeping lately and would sometimes come shuffling into her bedroom to snuggle up with her.

She heard a light rain, softly drumming against her window. Then the toilet flushed. Deborah shot up in bed. Suddenly, she was afraid. Was there a burglar? What else could it be? Maybe raccoons? Raccoons were always going through her trash at night. But they certainly didn’t flush toilets. She peeked through the half-open door.

There was light and movement coming from the bathroom.

She groped blindly around in the dark until she found her cell phone, and dialed 911. A female voice answered.

“There’s someone in my house,” Deborah whispered.

The woman on the other end of the line asked for her name and address. Deborah gave her the information and impressed upon her that there was probably a burglar. Maybe even a rapist? She’d heard all kinds of stories. The operator asked her to remain calm and not do anything. Officers were on their way.

“Remain calm?” Deborah hissed indignantly. “There’s someone in my house!”

“Don’t do anything,” said the operator.

“Don’t tell me what to do,” Deborah said, and hung up. She was furious now. All fear, all nervousness was gone. This was not unusual for her. She had always been prickly. When she was a young girl, one of the bigger kids in school had tried to take her lunch pail from her and she’d gotten so upset that she started attacking the boy, even though he was much stronger than she was. She had punched him in the nose, and he started bleeding. In the end, she and the boy were hauled into the principal’s office and the boy was punished with detention, but the case against her was dismissed for lack of evidence. No one believed that such a small girl could hurt a much stronger boy. When Deborah got mad, it canceled out all other thoughts, including those of her own safety.

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