Lilos… Dad is still Irish, despite where we live.
Dollie follows him out, asking what a lilo is before she brings up the possibility of a poodle again. Their conversation ebbs to silence before I hear Dad say anything back.
I pull out one of her dolls, noticing something in its hair, and toss it across the room when I realize it’s chewed gum.
Wiping my hands on my pajama bottoms, I rid myself of the idea of germs on my skin. I push at the box and see something I didn’t notice before.
One of Mom’s fancy ornaments rests amongst the dolls. It looks like a Pegasus, and Dollie has a history of getting in trouble for flying her dolls around on it.
I pluck it from the box and eye the room, wondering where I can put it so that Dollie can’t reach it.
Two built-in bookcases line the walls on each side of the fireplace, but unlike the bookcase in the foyer, these are empty. This peach and white horse will look nice against the dark wood.
Stretching up high, I select a shelf and push the ornament to the back. Something clicks and releases, and the bookcase juts forward.
Jumping back, I land awkwardly, and the pain in my knee pulls me to the ground. Agony wraps around my limb as I try to stand. All this for the fear of my toes getting crushed. The bookcase barely moved three inches.
With a struggle, I climb back to my feet and wedge my fingers into the small gap. I try to pry it forward, suspecting a secret room behind it. I strain with the weight, and a noise creeps from my mouth as my stomach tightens.
With the bookcase open a good few inches from the wall, I manage to squeeze my body into the secret corridor hidden behind it. It’s dark and vacant of furniture.
“You better not still be down here, Champ!” Dad shouts, heading back to the room I was in.
I pull the handle on the back of the bookcase and seal myself into the dark. Hopefully, he’ll assume I’m upstairs, getting ready like he asked, so I won’t have to listen to him yelling at me.
Dad’s feet move around the room. I can only assume he’s collecting the box of Dollie’s toys when they stop for a second.
I press my ear to the back of the bookcase, listening to each step he takes, but I’m not about to open the door and tell Dad about the secret room, even as his feet bring him closer.
I’d kinda like to keep it to myself.
I cup my mouth and close my eyes, silently chanting, “Please, please, please,”don’t let Dad already know about this place.
He moves toward me. His feet stop on the other side of the door, and I hear him dragging the Pegasus to his desired spot. I step back and hold my breath, devastated that my secret space is already about to be discovered.
But the door doesn’t open.
He doesn’t catch the latch.
My eyes spring open when I hear his squeaky shoes again, going in the opposite direction.
I breathe.
Glancing around, everything is dark…something clings to my skin when I edge to the left. I fall into the wall when I realize I’d bulldozed through a spider’s home, and the resident was hanging from my chin.
My arms flap in panic as I flick the creature from my face. My fingers tremble as I flatten them to the stone walls on either side of me and rush backward until I find the lever on the door. I pull it and push my weight against the door, but it doesn’t open.
Dust clings to my feet, bringing forth the worry of germs. My breathing comes fast with a new fear of being trapped in this tiny room forever. It bothers me more than my family finding out about the space and not being able to keep it as my own personal hideaway.
“Dad!” I call out, but no one comes. “Dad!” I try louder, my throat scraping.
I wait a moment and call again, but no one comes.
“DAD! MOM! Someone help me!” My fists pound the door.
No one hears me.
Without a choice, I creep through the narrow room, dirtying my socks and feeling the walls as I move. I come to a fork and choose to veer right. I trip over a tiny step and fall onto the floor, gasping with pain as blood flows from my knees. The agony in my left leg causes me to scream out, and tears drip from my eyes.
