Page 4 of Archer
“Oh! Rose. You’re still here.” My dad’s dark eyes always held a natural glumness, but that evening they were petrified.
“Yeah, we only closed ten minutes ago.” I said checking the clock to ensure I hadn’t lost track of time. “I’m just finishing up.”
“You need to leave. Now.” I began feeling afraid when my dad grabbed my elbow, dragging me through the kitchen.
“Dad, stop! Tell me what’s going on.”
“We don’t have time.”
“Time for what?”
A chill ran through my spine when I heard a banging on the locked door. A look I don’t think I’d ever seen on my dad’s face before appeared. Terror.
He turned to me. “You need to hide.”
“Where?”
“Anywhere. Go!”
Inside my chest my heart thumped. Where would I hide? The kitchen was tiny, and the only other room was my dad’s tiny office on the other side. There’d be even less places to hide there. Desperate, I opened one of the bottom cupboards crammed full of large bags of baking supplies. There was no way I’d fit.
“Coming!” My dad called when the pounding came again. I looked back at the door, contemplating what to do. Then back to the cupboard. Back to the door. Then I sighed at the cupboard, deciding I’d make myself fit.
Crawling to my knees, I moved the flour aside as far as I could before squeezing myself between the door and bags of brown sugar.
Shoot.
I was wedged into the cupboard, with no way of moving without help, and I left the door open. They’d see my feet instantly. The bell dinged, followed by a stampede of heavy boots. Trying to escape now was a worse idea than staying put, so I held my breath and hoped for the best. At least the open cupboard door was helpful for eavesdropping.
“Good to see you again, Ronald,” a rough voice said. Through the door, I could hear my dad get shoved against the wall and I winced. “Worried you weren’t goin’ to show up after your clever ruse last night.”
There was another shove followed by a loud thump on the ground. I gasped and shifted my arm to cover my mouth to avoid making any more noise. Before my dad showed up, I had already turned off all the appliances, making the kitchen silent enough that I could hear my heartbeat when no one spoke.
“I’m… I’m sorry, I swear. I’ll get you your money,” my dad said, and I could imagine him pleading, crumpled on the ground. My mind began racing, wondering who these people were and why on earth he owed them money.
“We’ve heard it a hundred times before from a hundred different people,” the same voice said. “Where exactly do you plan on getting this money?”
“I’ll… I’ll…” my dad said. “One month, Ray. Give me one month. Then I’ll have your money.”
“You know the other way we collect the debt.”
Everyone went completely silent.
After at least ten seconds passed I could hear a wretched sob come from my father. “One month. Please.”
“Only because money is worth more than blood,” the voice said and paused. “Fine. Consider this our favor to you. You have one month.But.”
“But?”
“But we’ve had a lot of folks disappearing lately,” he said. “That wouldn’t be your plan now, would it?”
“N-no. No. Of course not.”
“Good. Then you wouldn’t mind us checking up on you every few days? See how your progress is going?”
My dad took a few moments to respond. “No. That’s not a problem.”
“Good. We’ll be seeing you soon, Ronald.” There was a brief pause before the voice said something that made my skin feel as though it was crawling with ants. “Tell your daughter that I like her shoes. Can’t wait to see the rest of her if you don’t stick to your word. Come on, boys. We’ve got one last stop to make.”
