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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1710059-The-Shed
by kim
Rated: 13+ · Fiction · Drama · #1710059
Children say the darndest things. Submission for Writer's Cramp 1000 words
 
I had just fallen asleep when the banging started on my front door. I flipped on the  light and got my first glimpse of Noah.  He stood on the porch, a barefoot 12 year-old boy wearing SpongeBob pajamas.

"What's wrong?" I tried to keep the irritation out of my voice.

"Oh mister, I don’t know what to do.  Please mister, can you come with me?" 

“Where are your parents?”

“They’re asleep.”

I let him lead me off the porch and drag me by the hand a cross the street.  We wandered through a freshly mowed yard past a nice middle-class house with a garden shed in back.

"What's this all about?" 

"I can't tell you." 

"Well what do you want me to do?" 

"Just look."

The window of the shed was covered in crud and it was difficult to see anything.  I used the sleeve of my bathrobe to clean a spot on the glass.

"Did you see her?"

"See who?"  From the looks of things it was just a normal garden shed.  There was a wheelbarrow, rakes, a riding lawnmower and a large padlock on the door.

“I don’t see any…”  I covered my eyes as a flood light turned on and 250 blazing watts illuminated the backyard. The neighborhood dogs began barking wildly and Noah grabbed my hand and dragged me down a narrow path till we were hidden in the woods.

My heart was pounding in my chest.  What the hell was I doing out here in the middle of the night with some kid peeking into garden sheds?  “Tell me what this is all about.  You better start explaining this right now or I‘m taking you home”. 

“It’s Evelyn.  She’s in the shed.  It’s Evelyn Weingarten”. 

A snatch of a newspaper article surfaced in my mind at the mention of her name.  Something about a missing grade school girl.  It was over a year ago, but I could picture the bulletins posted on telephone poles around town.

“What do you mean it’s Evelyn?  What’s she doing in your shed?”  Noah crumpled to the ground and started to cry. 

“Now start at the beginning and tell me what happened.”

“We moved here when I was in the 4th grade.  We left the last town in a real hurry and had to buy new clothes and toys and everything.  We even changed our names.  My name used to be Mike, but I get a spanking if I use that name.  Now I’m Noah.”

The words kept spilling out of him. “My mom and dad aren’t my real mom and dad.  I don’t even remember my real mom and dad anymore.  We left my sister behind.  She wasn’t my real sister.  They made her stay in a shed too.”

I was fully awake now and the enormity of his story was starting to dawn on me. "We  have to call the police!”  I told him.

Long beams of light were moving through the woods toward us.  “Noah, where are you?" a woman's voice called.

Two figures emerged carrying flashlights. “There he is!  Thank God!”  A tall, thin woman dressed in a cotton nightgown ran toward us and knelt down and hugged Noah “Where have you been?  We were worried sick about you and who is this man?” 

The tall man beside her stuck out his hand.  "Terry McDowell, and this is my wife Alexandra.  I see you’ve met our son. “  He stepped closer and whispered, “I’m sorry about all of this, Noah’s a little disturbed.  I hope he didn’t cause you too much trouble.  I can’t imagine what he’s been telling you.  The doctors think he may have a form of childhood schizophrenia. “

I was confused.  Noah was a little wild-eyed when he appeared at my door.  But nothing in his manner suggested that he was crazy.  “You mind if I have a look in your shed?”  I asked nonchalantly.  Neither his mother or father showed any reaction but turned and headed back up the path.  When we arrived at the shed I saw the door was still firmly locked. Everything was just as we had left it.

Noah and his mother caught up with us as his father unlocked the door.

“See?  Nothing here at all.  I don’t know why he’s so obsessed with this shed.  We had to put a padlock on it just to keep him out.”  Noah stood silently staring at the ground. his mother grabbed him by the shoulders and turned him to face me. “What do you say to the nice man?”

“Sorry.”  he said in a monotone.  “Sorry to bother you.” 

I searched for something to say.  “Well, all’s well that ends well.”  .

“Maybe you’d like to come for dinner tomorrow night.  Noah seems to like you, he doesn’t show much interest in people usually. “  His mother looked at me expectantly.
.
I felt confused about the night’s events and exhausted and just wanted get back to my bed. “Sure. I’d love to.”


I slept late the next morning, it was almost ten-thirty when I went to retrieve my paper from the porch. I glanced over at Noah’s house then found myself running as fast as my legs would carry me.

How could I have been so stupid?  Boxes and bags were scattered around and the front door of the house stood wide open.  It was obvious they had left in the middle of the night.  When I turned the corner I saw the garden shed.  The riding lawn mower had been pulled out into the yard.  It had been used to conceal a trap door.  I peered down into the room below and saw a bed, a table, a chair and a child's potty.  A flash of light glinted up at me from the floor.  It was a charm bracelet with the initials E.W.  I stooped to pick it up and dialed 911.

word count: 981
© Copyright 2010 kim (kimoff at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1710059-The-Shed