Evil Heights, Book III: Lost and Found

by Michael Swanson

  Art's mom was one of the most restless people Lee had ever known. He could never remember seeing her be still for even the briefest of moments. The closest he had come was an instant such as now when she was standing behind the cash register, drumming her fingers back and forth on the counter in a steady but rapid rhythm, her head swiveling like some hawk sitting on a telephone wire.

  Mrs. Wren only remotely resembled Art. She had a dark, hawkish face with razor sharp penciled in eyebrows and wide lips, which looked appeared as though she'd had an allergic reaction from being stung by a bee. The bees would have undoubtedly made their home in the tall beehive hairdo she wore that lofted itself up and around her head. If Art had inherited his ears from her, it would be hard to tell as they were well concealed in that towering nest constructed of hairspray and empty air.

  The woman at the counter, taking her time as she pocketed her change in a bulging and misshapen purse scowled at the two boys, reminding Lee of how she might look at a dog licking itself out on the street. The woman snapped the bag closed, still with a corner of the receipt and a piece of scarf sticking out on each side of the clasp. Gathering up her bag, she wobbled out the door.

  Art stepped right up to the counter and leaned on it putting his palms down but turning his elbows around so his fingers turned back over the edge. “Mom, you remember Lee, don't you?"

  "Art get your hands off the glass,” she warned. “Can't you stand like a normal human being?"

  Art pulled back but didn't let go.

  She turned her attention to Lee; the scowl didn't change. “Yes I do. How are you Lee?"

  "Fine, Mrs. Wren."

  She fixed her attention back on Art. “I want you to have that back room spic and span before we go home."

  "Lee's gonna help,” Art straightened his arms pulling himself up a couple of inches onto the counter.

  "Cut that out,” she said severely. “You know I'm short handed today. Peggy didn't come in at all."

  Art let himself down.

  "What have you been doing back there all morning?” She wasn't looking at Art, but was concentrating on the girls in the Junior's section.

  "Working, Mom.” Art reached around and snagged himself a treat from the table.

  Lee recognized the intense look Art's mom pierced him with, as he'd seen Maggie affect that exact same displeased expression many times. It must be something indigenous to the mother species.

  "Lee, I only pay Art for helping out. If he's asked you to work with him that's between you two."

  "No problem, Mrs. Wren,” Lee came back. “I wasn't expecting you to have to pay me."

  She looked back again at the girls. “I've got to go. Art, y'all can have a couple of Cokes from the refrigerator, but that's it."

  Art reached for another candy.

  The look reappeared. “Art, those are for the customers."

  "Aw Mom, nobody's eating anything,” Art whined. But he did put it down.

  "Don't y'all make any noise either,” she said as she left the counter.

  "Come on,” Art nudged Lee in the ribs. He scooped up a couple more candies and put them in his pocket, then cocked his head to the side for Lee to follow.

  It was a relief once they were back in the stock room.

  "What'll we do now?” Lee asked.

  Art offered him some of the purloined candies from his pocket. One was mashed and had fluffs of lint stuck into the creamy goo oozing from the chocolate.

  Lee shook his head.

  "You start cleaning up while I keep watch at the door for any girls going in the dressing rooms. You wouldn't believe what I've already seen this morning."

  "I hope it's better than last time,” Lee said seriously.

  "Aww, that wasn't a busy day.” Art put his hand on Lee's shoulder. “Look at all the girls out there. You're gonna see something for sure. I promise."

  Lee gave Art a look of his own.

  "You know, I think you're right, though,” Art backtracked. “We'd better do something with this mess in case my mom comes back to check on us."

  "How come I get to do all the work?” Lee came back.

  Art pulled his face back from the door. “Do you want to watch? What if my mom comes to the door? What are you going to say to her you're doing?"

  Lee looked around. At least it wouldn't be difficult to find a place to start. “Where's a broom?"

  "Over there.” Art pointed by the back door. “You get started. I'll holler out if I see any good prospects."

  Lee got the big push broom and started to make passes up and down the floor. He could only go about half of the length of the room before he had a decent sized pile.

  "Hey, Art. What do I do with all this stuff? The trashcan's full."

  "We've got some bags in that cabinet.” Art pulled his face away from the crack he was spying through and pointed for Lee.

  It was tough work for one person to try to hold the bag open and scoop all the trash inside. Finally, Lee dropped the broom on the floor. “Art, if you don't come help I'm leaving."

  "Aw Lee, come on.” Art looked back anxiously. “I think those high school girls are almost ready. We don't want to miss ‘em."

  Lee crossed his arms.

  "All right.” Art eased the door carefully closed. He shuffled over then took each corner of the bag. “All right, here, look; I'm holding the bag. You scoop it in."

  Lee's prediction had been right; working together they had the place cleaned up in no time. Unfortunately, Art's fears had been realized, and by the time they were done the girls were gone. The only ones left in the store were the two old ladies.

  Art sat down in a roll away chair with only three rollers and dejectedly crossed his arms. “See, we missed ‘em."

  Lee sat down on the corner of a large metal desk drinking his Coke. “See, Art. It's just like last time. You always tell everyone all this stuff, and it never turns out to be true. Least not when anyone's here."

  Art tried to balance on the three wheels, so he could push off from the wall and roll across the floor. He only got a few feet before the chair tipped, and scratched a long gray line in the bare concrete.

  "Don't look at me. It's your fault,” he argued back. “I wanted to wait, but no, you wanted to work."

  Lee looked at the clock on the wall by the back door. “I can only stay about an hour more. I've got to be home before six for supper."

  Art abandoned the leaning chair. “Let me go see again."

  Just as he got to the door it opened, and his mother stepped through.

  "Well Arty!” She actually smiled. “My, oh my, what a fine job you've done."

  "Arty,” Lee thought. “What about me? All Arty did was hold the bag.” Still he smiled when she looked his way and he held up his Coke. “Thanks, Mrs. Wren."

  The little bell over the front door tinkled.

  "I guess you'll be going now that you've finished up?” she said to Lee.

  "We've still got a little more to do, Mom.” Art held the door for her. “We're just taking a break.” He wiped his brow as though there was actually sweat on it. “Isn't that a customer, mom?"

  She took one last look around, and smiled at Arty, then closed the door behind her as she hurried out.

  "Oh, Arty,” Lee got up and imitated his mother's stance and voice. “What a fine job you did, Arty."

  "Cut it out, Lee,” Art was blushing more in his ears than his cheeks. “You were right. It's better that we got it done."

  "Who came in?” Lee asked.

  Art reopened the door a crack. He turned back to Lee with a tremendous smile. “We've hit the mother lode!"

  Lee ran over to get a look, and turned back to Art with a grin of his own, then peeked back out through the crack at the edge of the door. There were six girls in the shop scattering around the place. Two were already in the Lingerie section.

  "Oh, this is gonna be so good.” Art was leering. The whites of his eyes were showing all the way around. “Battle stations!"


  They hurried over to the broom closet at the far corner of the room. When he opened the door, Lee could see inside were a mop and a toilet plunger along with some rags and cleaners and a big box labeled: Christmas Decorations. Art reached up and pulled at a piece of plywood, which appeared to be nailed in place but was just superficially stuck to the wall. Behind it, the sheetrock wall had been cut open in back of one of the two dressing room's mirrors. Art had carefully scraped away some of the black backing of the mirror so that when the lights were out and the door was closed in the closet he could peek out into the dressing room, but to anyone inside the booth it just looked like a slight flaw in the silvering of the mirror.

  "Oh this is gonna be so good,” Art repeated as he closed the door.

  "Do you think any of them are going to try any thing on?” Lee asked.

  "Oh for sure,” Art replied already sweaty and excited. “Didn't you see? Two were in the Lingerie section? I'm telling you, that means we're gonna hit the jackpot."

  "What if they don't use this dressing room?” Lee whispered. “Y'all got two."

  "Shhh. Don't be such a spoil sport.” Art pressed up closer to the glass. “I'm telling ya I got a feel for these things. These kind of girls always try stuff on."

  The dressing room was nothing more than a little cubby, with hooks on each wall, each already dangling with a few empty wire hangers. The door to the outside had a poster on it with a chart giving figure sizes and a ruled measure on the side for gauging one's height. Lee's stomach did a flip-flop when the door handle turned, and one girl stepped in followed by another.

  "Two!” Art breathed in Lee's ear. “Two!"

  Both girls wore their hair in ponytails and were no older than sixteen or seventeen, definitely high school girls. Each had a couple of hangers with the items they'd selected. They both squeezed in and hung up their hangers on either side of the booth.

  Art stuck Lee in the ribs with his elbow. “Look, they've got underwear!"

  Lee couldn't believe how excited he was becoming, his heart was pounding loudly up in his ears, and every sense was acute. This was so incredible. The butterflies of anticipation reminded him of being at the top of the first big drop on the rollercoaster in Atlanta. These girls were only a few feet away and weren't aware of a thing.

  "Susan, give me a little room,” the petite blonde asked, turning back to face the mirror.

  "You're the one who wanted to share a dressing room,” Susan replied.

  "Mary Anne,” the blonde came back snottily, “is hogging the other. She'll probably be in there forever."

  Susan, the tall redhead with lanky arms and skinny legs was already starting to unbutton her blouse. “She's such a cow,” she agreed.

  They both giggled.

  "Here goes,” whispered Art.

  Lee felt the rollercoaster picking up speed.

  Before their very eyes, Susan unbuttoned the last of her buttons and working her shoulders back one after the other let the blouse fall down her back catching it with one hand. She tossed it on the wedge in the corner that served as a seat.

  Lee's ears were on fire, and if there was any air conditioning here, it didn't make it back into the closet they were hiding in. He was sweating a river.

  The blonde, who was wearing jeans, had one arm up against the wall for support as she stepped out of them, pulling one leg up and then the other. She made a motion as though she was going to fold them up, but then just threw them on the seat along with Susan's blouse.

  "Pink panties,” Art hissed through his teeth. “Oh, God, I love pink panties."

  Susan reached up and lifted a bra on a hanger off from the hook with her other selections. “I think this one's real pretty."

  "Let me see,” the blonde stopped fiddling with the buttons on the skirt she was fumbling with and swiveled right to see.

  "Here, hold this.” Susan had it unclipped and handed it to the blonde to hold for a moment. She reached up behind with her elbows splayed out, and the bra she was wearing fell loose. Using a similar shrugging method as with her blouse she slipped the straps from her shoulders, and it was off.

  "Oh, baby, baby, baby, look at those nipples!” Art's voice had gone up an octave in pitch, and he was dancing, his feet pattering up and down.

  Unfortunately, their view didn't last long as Susan quickly slipped the new bra on, wrapping the back band around her stomach, hooking it together, then pulling it around, bringing the cups to the front. Pulling one arm and then the other through the straps the miraculous process was complete.

  "Aw shit,” Art reacted desperately.

  Lee though, was in awe; he'd never imagined that was how a bra worked.

  "I like the lace around the cups.” She was twisting back and forth in the mirror. “It's kind of tight through here though.” Susan pulled at the side band. “Nice though how it flatters my cleavage, don't you think, Betty?” She put her arms back and bent down at the mirror.

  "You've got the boobs for it,” Betty agreed. “I'll bet John would like to get his hands on those."

  Susan giggled. “He already has."

  Betty reacted with a wide eyed smile and then reached down to her t-shirt and scissoring her arms pulled her shirt off over her head. She wasn't nearly as well endowed as Susan.

  "An A cup,” Art whispered.

  Lee didn't have a clue what he was talking about. He thought Susan looked like she deserved an A, but Betty definitely needed to do some homework to get up to her friend's grade level. Still, neither one would flunk in his opinion.

  Betty was looking off squarely at Lee in the mirror as she unhooked her own bra. “Have you felt his ... you know ... his thing yet?"

  "Are you kidding? I can't get him to keep it in his pants. It's all he ever wants to do.” Susan was reaching back to try to get at the hooks on the new bra. Exasperated she turned her back to Betty. “Can you help me with this thing?"

  "Hang on.” Betty removed her own bra and tossed it on the pile.

  "Oh!” slavered Art. “Now I think those are the cutest nipples I've ever seen."

  This was Lee's first time to actually see any naked breasts in real life, and now in the span of a minute he'd seen two different pairs. Though he certainly wasn't an expert, there was no mistaking, what Betty lacked in size she more than made up for in quality.

  Helping, as Susan turned her back, Betty quickly had the new bra unhooked and now the two boys could do some real comparing. The girls were face to face only about a foot apart.

  "How big is it?” Betty leaned in, her face only inches from her friend's.

  Susan giggled, and put her hands together drawing them apart as Betty's eyes got wider.

  Finally, Betty said, “No way!"

  Susan pushed her friend with that same limp-wristed, palm first push Phoebe liked to use so much, then held out one hand and spread a few inches between her thumb and forefinger.

  They both burst out giggling.

  "Really?” Betty asked.

  Susan nodded, and they both laughed again.

  There was a knock at the door, and Mrs. Wren's voice came through from the outside. “Are you girls alright in there?"

  For some reason, Susan reflexively covered her breasts with her hands. “Yes ma'am."

  "There's a rule, girls.” Art's Mom's voice came through the door clearly. “Only one girl to a dressing booth."

  "Sorry, ma'am,” Betty was the one to call out this time. “The other booth already had someone in it."

  "Well, it's available now.” Art's mom sounded perturbed.

  "Give me a second,” Susan ceremoniously raised her middle finger and shook it at the door. “At least let me get my blouse back on."

  She hurriedly picked up her blouse from the seat and buttoned it up, getting the buttons out of order so the bottom and top were uneven.

  Lee suddenly had a mental picture of Maggie. Her blouse had looked just like that last Saturday night when she'd come out from Patty's bedroom.

  Susan put h
er hand to her mouth and whispered so only Betty, Lee, and Art could hear. “The old witch."

  When the door opened, Lee could see Mrs. Wren's suspicious face just outside. She looked in quickly as Susan slipped out holding her hangers high.

  Betty had scooped up her t-shirt and was holding it over her chest. “Do you mind?"

  Art's mom closed the door.

  Betty had a lot more room now. She tossed her t-shirt down and moved up closer to the mirror. Making a pouty face and pooching her lips out, she put a hand to each side of a breast and pushed them together only inches from the mirror.

  Art leaned in as close as he could, actually sticking his head in the hole in the wall and licked the back of the mirror.

  Lee was surprised that he was ever surprised at anything Art did. “Come on,” he hissed. “You're taking up the whole view."

  Art pulled back, leaving a smear of saliva on the glass.

  Betty moved back and let her breasts go. In a move that caught both boys where they lived, she pinched each of her nipples playfully then ran her palms over the tips.

  "Oh save me,” Art murmured.

  Lee had to admit, his own heart was racing, and he couldn't ever remember being so excited.

  With a little hop to the side, blonde Betty reached down on the seat and picked up the skirt she'd toyed with earlier. She held it to her hips and turned back to the mirror. She must have decided she didn't like it as she instantly tossed it back where it had just lain.

  She removed the new blouse from its hanger and held it over her chest turning this way and that before the mirror. Then she slipped it on and buttoned it up. She looked at herself appraisingly for a moment, then turned all the way around and looked over her shoulder at her reflection in the mirror. At that same instant all three of them noticed she had a little hole in the seat of the pink panties she had on. Surprisingly she reached her hand back and stuck a finger through the hole, pulled at it and shook her head.

  Art, obviously excited beyond words stamped his feet and poked Lee in the ribs with his elbow.

  Betty turned to face the sidewall and quickly unbuttoned the blouse, stripping it off in a matter of seconds. It floated to rest atop the pile on the seat. She reached up and picked up the two plastic hangers left on the hook. Looking back in the mirror, she held them out waist high, one pair of panties in each hand to either side of her hips. She unceremoniously dropped the yellow pair, hanger and all on the discard pile.