
Murphy’s Vengeance
“You’ve got ten minutes,” Billy warns out of his car window as I leave the church parking lot on foot and head for Tasha’s house. Ten minutes is our rule when helping a friend do something stupid. If it takes more than that, something went wrong. Get the hell out so you don’t go down for my stupidity.
I check the time on my phone as I round the corner of the wooded lot next to her house. It is 3:53 AM. I call her house phone and hang up as soon as it rings. I stop at the edge of the trees and scan her house for lights while I wait for her to call me back. The Nokia jingle catches my ear and I quickly flip my phone open.
“Hey baby, everything good?” I ask.
She whispers back, “Yep! Are you here?”
“Yeah. I’m right outside. I’ll be at your window in a sec to help you down.”
“Okay. I’ll be ready. See you soon!”
She hangs up and I close my phone. I run to the corner of her house and edge around the bushes that line the front until I reach her room. I slip between the bushes, stand at her window and wave the glowing screen. The curtain moves to the side and Tasha appears wearing an excited smile. She reaches up and unlocks the window and I place my phone back in my pocket. We both carefully push up on the window frame. It catches in spots giving off a few audible pops, but none of them are too loud. Once open enough, Tasha backs away and sticks her leg through the curtain and out of the window. I position myself to help lift her out but she pulls her leg back inside.
The front door of her house opens and their family dog runs out. I drop into a squat. The old hound waddles his over-fed body down the steps and into the yard. He hikes a leg and sprays his bladder on the dogwood. He finishes and runs back for the house. He stops when back on the patio and starts sniffing the air. I panic, drop down and find two patches of dirt to put my hands in without crunching the dry leaves that litter the area. I lower myself in a push-up until I hover a few inches above the ground. The hound hears me and runs to the edge of the bushes and howls.
“Hey!” Mr. Ray yells, and my heart triples its beat. “Knock it off! Get inside!” The hound stops and looks at him then turns back to me and lets out another long howl. “Inside! Now!” The hound does as he is told and the door shuts.
Relief washes over me and I get back to my feet, shaking out the tension in my arms and brushing the dirt from my palms. The door opens again. I drop back to my previous position as Mr. Ray steps out and sits in his smoking chair. He lights a cigarette. I remember my phone isn’t on silent and worry someone will call. I lower my head to a patch of dirt and lean my weight on my face to free a hand and slowly pull it from my pocket. I set it near my face and push the mute button and the phone immediately starts blinking Tasha’s name. I answer and start pressing the buttons to send tones in what I hope to be S.O.S.
Somehow she understands and steps outside. “Dad? What are you doing?”
Hope sets in.
“Nothing sweetie. I was just…”
He stops mid-sentence, and I turn to notice Billy’s car slowly creeping by the house with the lights off, and hope disintegrates. I can only think of one thing to do. I spring to my feet, jump from the bushes and sprint across the yard — nearly getting clothes-lined by the dogwood — making a break for Billy’s car. When he sees me running for him, he hits the gas and darts away leaving me chasing him down the street, face half covered in dirt, desires unsatisfied.

