something. I saw most of Freddy’s inventory that afternoon, though, gold and crystal, fancy urns, Hummels and Royal Doulton figurines. Sam pushed all kinds of jewellery under my nose, chunky necklaces and fine bracelets, diamonds, jade and pearls. He detailed the difference between junk and gems and had me pay particular attention to one piece I would need to recall later.
He said he had a pal named John Reynolds. “John’s that fella I played cards with the other night,” he explained as though I’d been at the poker table with him. “How’d you like to help your old man play a trick on John? He’s going to laugh, boy. He’s going to get a real charge out of what you do.”
“Me?”
“You got so smart studying all that game show stuff. Who else could do it but you! See, look, you’ll climb right inside and then we’ll put the lid down so it looks just like regular furniture. Then me and Freddy, we’ll carry the sofa into his house, put you down in the fella’s living room and you’ll be hiding in there just like a secret present!”
I stared at him, excited. Yes, yes, yes! I wanted to help my old man. I wanted to be the one—the only one who could do it.
The next afternoon Sam and Freddy put on coveralls and loaded the sofa into the back of a cube truck. I rode inside the box, lounging on a furniture blanket, anticipating my big moment. Marlene’s face flashed to mind, looking jealous. She always complained about being left home and here I was, going to work with Sam.
Sam needed me.
The brakes squealed as the truck stopped. I heard the back doors creak and open up. My belly did cartwheels when Sam lifted the lid and looked in at me.
“Should be just the fella’s maid there this afternoon, okay?” he said. “Listen carefully. Wait till she goes upstairs. You have to be real quiet. There’ll be the two statues in the den, remember the fat Buddha ones I showed you? Like them, except gold. They’re heavy, so you take ’em one at a time. The other important thing is in the last bedroom down the hall. The jewellery box on the dresser. You take the whole thing. You got it?”
I nodded, though his words swirled in my head.
The sofa’s lid came down and the pine box lurched as Freddy and Sam carried me toward the house.
The bell rang. Eventually the front door opened.
“We got a delivery here for Mr. Reynolds,” Freddy said.
“I’m sorry but Mr. and Mrs. Reynolds are not in this afternoon.” A woman’s voice. I figured she was the maid.
“Uh-oh.” This was Sam playing Farmer Lug. “Mr. Reynolds don’t get his prize now.”
Freddy interjected, “Ma’am, this is a gift from the Shriners for Mr. Reynolds’s outstanding community service. Shipped in special from Italy. Just got to have you sign here and she’s all yours.”
It was quiet a moment. Then the maid said, “Nobody called.” She sighed. “All right. Where should I sign? … You can set it in that dining area.”
The sofa lurched again as they carried it inside.
“Gee,” Sam said. “This is the biggest house I ever saw!”
They set the sofa down. I was happy that the rocking stopped.
Sam started to hum, “Tie a yellow ribbon round the old oak tree.” That song was a signal. Sam picked it because of how much I loved Tony Orlando and Dawn. When I heard “Tie a Yellow Ribbon,” he said that would mean that everything was copasetic.
The maid thanked the men. The men thanked the maid. I heard a heavy door slam.
In the dark of the box, I fidgeted with the musty furniture blanket; the smell of wood was sour all of a sudden. The pine began to shrink and squeeze around me. I manoeuvred my back around splinters.
“Tie a yellow ribbon, hm hm hmm,” the maid sang. I could hear her getting farther away, the creak of feet on stairs. I froze. My heart banged. I had not expected to be afraid. This is my job, I told myself. Only I can do this job. I wouldn’t be the one left home alone. Sam would think I was a genius.
A vacuum started somewhere in the distance.
I inched the lid up and peered into the room. Slipping out, I crouched on the hardwood. Sam wasn’t kidding. I had never been in a house so big, and with so many fancy things. Just like the home showcases on The Price