Chapter 20
Not According to Plan
As soon as I sat down, I could see a big box-truck rumbling down the street. It didn’t have the monkey-and-triangles logo, but the shape of the truck told me it was for moving furniture. It slowed as it reached the intersection of Mountain View Court and Mountain View Drive. I could see the two men take a long look down towards Scooter’s house—too long. Gotcha! I thought.
The truck began to move a little faster as it drove past the turnoff for Scooter’s house. I could now read the side of the truck. A rather small logo for such a large truck read “Simplified Furniture Moving.” The truck abruptly stopped when it realized it was about to pass the correct address, AJ’s house. It pulled into the driveway at a very awkward angle.
I guess I always imagined furniture movers would be fat guys who had eaten more than their share of Twinkies, but the two guys who climbed out of the truck were both very fit. The tall and lanky men both wore grey uniforms that had a patch sporting the same logo as the side of the truck. Their sleeves were rolled up to reveal rippling biceps, which probably saw a healthy workout each and every day. My plan sort of depended on these guys being stuck in the fenced-in backyard; these guys looked like they could high-jump the fence if they had to. Gulp.
Just then, a police cruiser pulled to a stop at the intersection of Scooter’s street and ours. It had probably just come from Scooter’s house; the police had been coming and going that way all morning. The two movers stopped and very slowly began to backpedal towards the truck. The cruiser sat there for a moment, then pulled away and headed away from us, toward the entrance of the housing development. Don’t go far, I thought, we’ll be needing you real soon.
The driver approached AJ, who had stopped his hedge-clipping, and asked if Mr. Mathisen was home.
“Oh, yeah, he’s actually upstairs, trying to nap. He said you guys might be showing up and that I should just show you to the back porch. That’s where the furniture is that you guys are supposed to take.”
I nervously took a swig of my two-liter as the guy who had not been driving stared at me. I tried to nonchalantly say hello with a head nod. It must have worked because he gave a slight smile.
“Well, show us the way,” the driver said.
AJ took them around the corner and opened the gate. SPUD immediately began barking his head off and clawing at the gate trying get out. “Quiet, SPUD!” AJ yelled as they walked through the gate, and, of course, SPUD did not obey.
As soon as I heard the gate slam, I peered around the corner: no one. I ran up to the gate and clicked the padlock on the latch and then hurried back around to the front of the house. I was about to walk up the front steps when I saw some concrete landscaping blocks sitting under the steps. AJ’s mom had begun to make a flower bed but had not finished the project. I grabbed a block and tucked it up behind the rear tire. I figured that would slow them down a little bit if they happened to get away from SPUD and try to make a break for it.
I opened the front door, grabbed the cordless phone, and crawled over to the spot where I could see the porch out the back window without being seen in return. What I saw made me drop the phone.
The little cover on the back of the phone popped off as the phone hit the hard tile floor, and—just my luck—the batteries fell out and rolled across the floor and out of sight. I looked up again, and there was AJ, white as a ghost, watching in horror as the two men used box knives to tear his parents’ expensive couch to shreds.
They had decided not to take the couch with them but to just tear it open and find the necklace! What would they do to AJ once they realized the necklace wasn’t even there?
Apparently, AJ was thinking the same thing, because he began to back up slowly towards the barbeque. Finally, when the man nearest him stuck his head way down in the couch to get a better look, AJ decided that was his only chance.
He grabbed the T-shirt off the grill, jumped up on the firewood, threw the T-shirt over the clothesline, and jumped. He was a good fifteen feet away from the back porch before the men even knew what had happened.
As he picked up speed, he yelled, “Now, Scoot!” Suddenly, the metal grate on the doghouse sprang open, and out charged a very angry pit bull. SPUD charged towards the men on the porch.
Just then, AJ reached the fence—Crash! Splinters flew everywhere as he failed to clear the fence. Apparently, in his excitement, AJ forgot to grab hold of the T-shirt close to the clothesline, and those few inches made all the difference. AJ had managed to lift his feet and get them over the fence, but his rear didn’t make it.
Now AJ hung upside down on the fence, facing back towards two very angry bad guys, his pants apparently stuck on the fence. He wailed in pain and began to yell, “Help, help!”
Scooter’s hands appeared above the fence. He had run over to help AJ, but there wasn’t much he could do from the other side of the fence. At most, he could free AJ’s pants, and then AJ would fall into the backyard, where the danger was.
At first, the men were scared to move off the porch because of SPUD, but they soon realized that SPUD was all bark and no bite. They slowly started moving off the porch, toward the corner where AJ lay hanging upside down like a scared piñata.
What could I do? I looked down at the broken phone in my hand. Maybe I could find another phone upstairs? No, that would take too long to find, and then even longer for the police to show up. Plus, I didn’t want to take my eyes off the backyard. I thought about banging on the windows and confusing the men to buy AJ a little more time. But how long would that last?
I don’t know what I was thinking, but I got up, flung open the back door, jumped onto the back porch, and bluffed. “Don’t worry, AJ! I called the police, and they’ll be here any second!”
Crash! The concrete block I’d put behind the truck’s tire rolled into my peripheral vision. A police officer ran into the yard, pointing a gun at the two men. “I am the police! Freeze!”
It was the red-headed police commander from Scooter’s house—Commander Coleman! The two men froze in their tracks and raised their hands above their heads. Commander Coleman inched towards them, shouting orders as he went.
Just then, I felt a hand on my shoulder. I turned to find another officer instructing me to take a seat on the edge of the porch. I spun all the way around to find that the whole downstairs of the house was now swarming with police officers. I began sucking in air as if it was my very first breath—I had been holding my breath ever since I had yelled at AJ.
Once the bad guys were hauled off in a police cruiser and AJ was released from his upside down prison, Commander Coleman sat the three of us down on the back porch and made us tell him the whole story, starting all the way back at the old man in the mailbox.
He listened very intently as we bumbled through all that had happened in the past couple weeks. He didn’t say a word until we were completely finished; then he spoke up.
“Well, fellas, I had a hunch that you knew more than you let on back at Scooter’s house. And, Tyler, I really thought you were going to do the right thing and tell me right then and there. Anyway, I didn’t have any proof, so all I could do was keep a close eye on you. And it looks like I was right.
“When I saw that moving truck pull into your driveway, my suspicions grew, so I called for backup and doubled back. Apparently, it was just in time. I hope you boys see what can—and will—happen when you try and leave the police in the dark. I’m glad you want to use your skills and start this Enigma detective thing, but that is no substitute for allowing the police to serve and protect you and your neighborhood. Have I made myself clear?”
“Yes, Sir! Perfectly clear, Sir!” we all replied together.
“Good.” He smiled and walked into the house.
I closed my eyes and laid back on the concrete. It was finally over.
The Case of the Old Man in the Mailbox Page 20
