Nine Doors by Vicki Grant Page B

playground. Where else was there to go?
    What a barrel of fun that was. The monkey bars were gone because a couple of parents had complained that they weren’t safe anymore. Most of the other equipment was busted or boring. A bunch of old people doing tai chi had taken over the field. That didn’t leave much for us to do. We found a tree behind the school and chilled in the shade.
    It was hot and sticky. The whole subdivision smelled like a bus terminal or a parking lot or something. I just wanted to go to sleep and wake up when things got fun again.
    â€œHey, I got an idea,” Richard said. He pitched a couple of pebbles at my face. “Let’s play Nicky Nicky Nine Doors!”
    I was lying on the dry crunchy grass, trying to remember what cool felt like. I didn’t even bother to open my eyes.
    I blew the pebbles off my face and said, “Nicky Nicky what?” I made sure my voice sounded bored. If the game was even half as stupid as the name, I wasn’t interested.
    â€œNicky Nicky Nine Doors,” he said. “You know, when you ring someone’s doorbell and then run off before they answer it.”
    I rolled over on my stomach and bugged my eyes out at him.
    â€œYou mean Ding Dong Ditch? Ring and Run? That thing?”
    He nodded at me like “Won’t that be great?”
    What was he, six years old or something? That game was so pathetic.
    â€œWhy would you want to do that?” I said.
    He flicked a pebble off his knee and nailed me right in the forehead. It was little, but it hurt. “Got anything better to do?” he said.
    He had a point. I was sick of riding my bike. The public pool would be crawling with toddlers, no doubt all peeing their little hearts out. My mother barred me from the house on sunny days because I was playing too many video games. I couldn’t even go to a movie because I’d blown all my money on slushies.
    â€œWell...?” Richard said. “Any other brilliant ideas?”
    I got up before he had a chance to ding me with another pebble.
    â€œNo,” I said.
    â€œSo you’re in?” he said.
    What could it hurt? If nothing else, I figured, it would kill some time.
    Kill
is right. Nicky Nicky Nine Doors was even more boring than lying in the shade watching old people pretend they’re Jackie Chan. I hid behind a parked car and waited while Richard rang a bunch of doorbells.
    Nobody answered.
    Big surprise. Who was going to answer? The subdivision was practically empty these days. The kids were all away at camp or on vacation or visiting their “noncustodial” parent. Most of the grown-ups worked in the city. They were never around anyway.
    After the third or fourth doorbell, I was pretty sure Richard would be ready to give up. That just goes to show how little I knew him.
    He ran back from the last house and slid down behind the car with me. “Okay,” he said. “Who else can we try?”
    I shrugged.
    He went, “Oh, come on. You live on this street. You must know who’s home during the day.”
    I shook my head.
    â€œYou do so,” he said.
    â€œNo, I don’t,” I said. “I don’t know anybody on the street.” It was just that kind of place. Most people kept to themselves.
    Richard squeezed his lips together and looked at me over the top of his glasses. It was like he was a teacher and I’d just givenhim some bogus excuse for not getting my homework done. “You’ve been living here a couple of years and you don’t know
anybody
? On the
entire
street? Hmmm,” he said. “That’s funny.”
    He made me feel like I was lying.
    I sighed. “Okay. Well, yeah. I guess I know a couple of people.”
    â€œThere. That’s better. Thank you, Emery. Now, who might those people be?”
    I wasn’t going to let him see how much he was irritating me. I ran my tongue over my teeth. I looked up and down the street in the laziest way I