The Secret Manuscript

by Edward Mullen

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Kyle came home a little after midnight and discovered Ben was still up. In fact, Ben had been waiting for him.

  “Hey, man,” Kyle said as he entered the house.

  “What’s up?” Ben replied. “How was work?”

  “Exhausting.”

  “How long are you going to keep this up?” Ben asked.

  “Until I graduate… unless school suddenly becomes free.”

  “What if I told you I have a way you could make a little money?”

  “Let me guess, your little book told you a way to rob a bank.”

  “No… but close though. Fortunately for us, the bank has already been robbed. All we need to do is rob the robber.”

  “Count me out.”

  “Oh come on, you’re always so sensible, why don’t you live a little?”

  “Why am I so sensible? Did you hear what you just said? I’ll take sensible over foolish any day.”

  “I know exactly where the robber lives. All we need to do is go there with a couple of masks, give him a good scare, and take the money from him.”

  “You know, sometimes your brain entertains the wildest ideas. You’re better off writing stories about heroes rather than trying to become one yourself.”

  “Don’t worry, nobody will get hurt.”

  “Oh really, and how do you know that? How does it all play out in your little life-guide?”

  “Well, actually, I don’t know. It’s not in the manuscript. In the story, I… never mind. Are you in or out?”

  “Sorry, dude, it’s late and I just want to get some sleep. I suggest you do the same,” Kyle said before trotting off upstairs.

  Ben sat alone at the table, contemplating what he should do. He was not adverse to dangerous or foolish things — he had stolen a car, robbed some apartments, and tricked a woman into going on a date with him. He figured robbing a robber could not be any worse than those things. After mulling it over, he reached a decision.

  While Kyle was in the shower, Ben went upstairs and grabbed a few items and tossed them in his backpack. After changing into some darker-coloured clothes, Ben went downstairs and left out the back door.

  The bus slowed to a stop and Ben got on. There were a few people on the bus, but none of them paid any attention to Ben as he sat inconspicuously at the front under the dim lighting. His backpack was on his lap. He unzipped it and took out a small container, which contained a few shots of alcohol. He opened the container and took a big swig to calm his nerves. It also served to give him courage for what he was about to do. After he choked back the cheap scotch, he wiped his mouth, and put the container back in his bag along with the other contents he had brought to assist him.

  When it was time, Ben signalled for the bus to stop. Ben stepped out and began walking down the sidewalk as he had done earlier in the day. The streets were quiet and bare, which allowed the perfect opportunity for Ben to get into position without being seen.

  He looked at his watch and saw it was nearly 1:00 a.m. As he approached the house, he noticed none of the lights were on. This either implied the robber was home and asleep, or was out. Ben looked up and down the street, took a deep breath, and contemplated turning back. The alcohol circulating in his bloodstream silenced any inhibitions he had. He proceeded as planned.

  Dressed in all black and under the guise of darkness, Ben crept around to the rear of the house. He slowly tiptoed up the back porch and placed his hand on the doorknob. It was unlikely to be left open, but it was at least worth a try. Just as he had suspected, it was locked. He contemplated breaking a window, but that would cause all sorts of problems. Not only would it awaken the robber or a neighbour, Ben would risk being lacerated by the shards of glass on the climb in. Besides he had no faith in his athletic abilities. What he did have faith in was his ingenuity.

  Being careful not to make the old wooden planks creek, Ben slowly exited the porch. He went around to the side of the house, looking for something — anything — that would assist him in getting into the house. He searched all around his feet, looking for a rock that seemed to be out of place. Hopefully with a little luck, the robber would have hidden a spare key under one of them. Unfortunately, there was nothing of the sort.

  Just then, a small creature emerged from the shadows and scurried past him. Due to his heightened state of alertness, Ben nearly had a heart attack. He screamed and jumped backward, tripping over a small bush. He quickly cupped his hand over his mouth and remained still. He waited in the shroud of night to see if anyone would look out the window or enter the backyard. Given the type of neighbourhood he was in, he figured the neighbours were probably not the type of people to be too bothered by bumps in the night.

  Ben waited for what seemed like a long time, trying not to move a muscle. In the distance, a dog barked, but other than that, all was calm and quiet. In the moonlight, Ben was able to see the creature that frightened him was just an ordinary house cat, and was nothing to be afraid of. The cat watched him for a moment, but continued on his way. He slithered through some tall grass and jumped on top of a fence. Not knowing what to do, Ben continued to watch the cat. From the fence, the cat jumped onto a large tree branch and began to climb up. Ben’s eyes followed the cat’s movement as it ascended to the top. Once at the top of the tree, the cat leaped onto the roof of the house. Ben had not realized it until that very moment, but the cat was showing him a way in, almost as if it were a sign from God.

  Ben quickly rushed over to the fence and attempted to pull himself up. Nearly every muscle fibre in his body twitched as he struggled to scale up the six-foot-high barrier. He eventually found a foothold and climbed on top, but not without scraping his shin first. He winced in pain, but pressed on.

  Like a tightrope walker, he placed one foot in front of the other with his arms stretched out to the sides to aid his balance. His lack of coordination and the buzz from the alcohol made this extremely difficult. He wobbled back and forth, then decided to crawl on his hands and knees. Inching his way along the top of the fence, Ben maintained his balance until he finally reached the tree.

  Once at the tree, Ben reached out and grabbed the highest branch he could. At that very moment, he lost his footing, leaving him dangling from the tree. The rough tree bark dug into the palms of his hands, causing excruciating pain. He bucked and kicked his legs wildly as he struggled to maintain his grip. Eventually, one of his feet found its place on one of the lower branches, allowing Ben to steady himself. Then he began to climb.

  Heights were a problem for Ben, especially at one in the morning when he had been drinking. As he continued to make his way up the tree, he tried his best to block out any fear, and to constantly remind himself not to look down. He kept climbing, and after a while he could tell he was really high off the ground. Then he looked down. Vertigo set in and nearly caused him to fall out of the tree. He was at least forty feet off the ground and a drop from that height could be deadly. That was a scenario he could not afford to have happen or even think about happening.

  Ben regained his composure and pressed on. Climbing a tree was one thing, but making the transition to the house was a completely different feat altogether. He looked up and saw the cat perched atop the house, staring at him. He waited a moment to catch his breath and plot his next move. Luckily for him, the tree extended to the roof, so all Ben needed to do was crawl across the branch and he would be on top of the house.

  Without looking down, Ben straddled the large branch and slowly moved across. Inch by inch, he continued to shimmy himself until he could touch the edge. From there, he positioned his body to make the transition onto the house. He placed one foot on the roof, then the other until he was lying face down. Ben now felt a little more at ease.

  He repositioned himself so that he was sitting down. In the distance, the city lights sparkled. It was like nothing he had ever seen before. He remained in a gaze, enjoying the view, almost as if he had forgotten why he was there.
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br />   Still sitting, the cat sauntered over to Ben. After a cautious sniff, the cat realized Ben was not a threat and began to purr and rub up against him. Ben extended his hand and petted the cat. The purring grew louder as Ben scratched the cat behind its ears and underneath the chin. It was at that moment that he read the name on the collar — Santa Claws. Ben laughed to himself as if it were another sign from God.

  When it was time to go, Ben pivoted onto all fours and slowly ascended up the steep roof in a crouched position. He reached the chimney and ensured his feet were stabled before peeling off his backpack and setting it down in front of him. He went through his bag until he found what he was looking for. With his multi-purpose knife in hand, he stood up and used it to disassemble the chimney crown. Fortunately, the chimney did not taper at the top. The exhaust chamber was as wide at the top as it was at the base. With a little work, Ben eventually unfastened the chimney crown and set it aside. He then shone the flashlight down the smoke chamber. Just as he had hoped, it was free from obstruction.

  Ben placed the flashlight and the tool back in his bag and slung the pack over his shoulders, but the opposite way so the main compartment was in front of him. Without wasting any more time, he hoisted himself onto the chimney top and swung his legs inside. He placed one foot behind him so the sole of his shoe was flush against the back wall and put the other foot in front of him. His arms gripped the top of the chimney as he lowered himself down. Using his back and all four limbs for support, he began his slow and steady descent into the black pit.

  The chamber was filthy and covered in a thick layer of soot that had accumulated over the years. The soot transferred to Ben’s hands and shoes, making it difficult to maintain traction. On top of that, he was out of shape and his muscles began to fatigue quicker than he anticipated. With each movement, the once-sedentary soot was now being disturbed. It filled the chamber with an ashy cloud of debris, which inevitably found its way into Ben’s lungs. Now breathing heavily and inhaling the dust particles, Ben began to get lightheaded and knew he had to move quickly. He coughed profusely, creating a lot of noise and also making his body even more unstable. The muscles in his arms and legs began to shake from bracing his body weight. Immediately, Ben knew he would not be able to hold himself up much longer.

  When he was at about the halfway point, his footing gave way and before he had time to react, he slid down uncontrollably about twenty feet and crashed to the basement. Upon impact, Ben’s skinny legs did little to brace his fall. His whole body folded up like a compressed accordion before he tumbled out into the basement.

  Covered in soot, and in pain, Ben sprawled on the floor. His whole body hurt, but he was relieved one part of the mission was now accomplished. Alive and well, Ben had successfully entered the house.