definitely isn’t easy to hold onto, it must weigh two hundred pounds. We try to stand it up and it bows in the middle. We drag it to the door then make it down the first few stairs alright then I bump off the wall and send the mattress bending in the wrong direction. Tank yells, “Whoa,” but the mattress doesn’t listen. It bends and I’m not smart enough to let go of the handle. I find myself thankfully on the top of the mattress holding on for dear life as I scream and slide down the stairs in what feels like slow motion but it’s over in a matter of seconds. I lay on top of the mattress breathless, my face stuck to the plastic. Tank appears quickly and squats down staring at me. “Are you alright?”
“Yes—Yes, just give me a minute” I whisper.
His half grin returns. “That was a lot easier to get it down than I thought it would be,” he jokes. I blink a few times then I feel his hand on top of mine that’s still holding a death grip on the handle. “McKinsey, you’re alright, you can let go of the mattress now,” he softly reminds me.
I loosen my grasp and can feel the blood seeping back into my fingers. I slowly sit up, look at Tank and pitifully say, “I—I don’t think I can take any more surprises tonight.” His sympathetic grin doesn’t help me any either, he sticks his hand out to help me up. “Why do I always feel like you’re helping me up?”
“You’re okay. Come on. Let’s get the bed set up.”
He lifts the heavy mattress up on one end and slides it the rest of the way to the bedroom. He cuts the plastic cautiously to not nick the fabric with the blade. Then we both push and pull on the giant cushion until we get it in place. Once we are done, his phone begins to ring and he pulls it out of his pocket. “I need to take this.” I nod and he answers the phone, “Ambrose, long time…” He crooks his finger at me to follow him so I do. “Hey, Ambrose, hold on just one second.” I follow him back across the hallway to the little bedroom where there are some plastic shopping bags sitting on a dresser. He hands them to me and says, “I need to take this upstairs to make some notes. Here are the sheets. I’ll be back down in a minute.”
“Okay,” I mouth quietly.
He walks back toward the steps that lead upstairs and I return across the hall. I pull the package out of the bag and it’s a new set of sheets. When I pull them out of the bag a piece of paper flutters through the air toward the ground. I bend to pick it up and it’s the receipt for the sheets. I glance at the date, and it’s dated for 2 years ago, which is also weird. Why would someone keep new sheets for two years? I stick the receipt back down in the bag and begin making the bed. Once I finish with the bed, I walk to the dresser and slide a dresser drawer open slightly to see if it’s empty. I check the rest of them and they all are empty as well. I shut all the drawers back, then drag my luggage to the dresser and set my large bag on top of it. I decide not to unpack, I’ll just get what I need out of my suitcase. I grab my smaller suitcase, unzip it then lift the clothes still on a hanger up and look around for the closet. There are two doors to choose from, I open the one on the left slowly and find it is in fact a closet and it’s fairly empty, other than a few shoe boxes and paper lying around on the floor, so I have plenty of space to choose from. I hang my clothes up, turn to grab another handful of hanging clothes, and then let out a loud scream.
Alexander rolls his eyes. “Tank wants you to come upstairs.”
He turns and walks out of the room without another word, and I yell at the top of my lungs and I don’t care that I sound like a complete lunatic, “If one more person scares me, that’s it! I can’t be held responsible for my actions!”
I storm out of my new room, stomp up the stairs, and then follow the voices into the room
“Yes—Yes, just give me a minute” I whisper.
His half grin returns. “That was a lot easier to get it down than I thought it would be,” he jokes. I blink a few times then I feel his hand on top of mine that’s still holding a death grip on the handle. “McKinsey, you’re alright, you can let go of the mattress now,” he softly reminds me.
I loosen my grasp and can feel the blood seeping back into my fingers. I slowly sit up, look at Tank and pitifully say, “I—I don’t think I can take any more surprises tonight.” His sympathetic grin doesn’t help me any either, he sticks his hand out to help me up. “Why do I always feel like you’re helping me up?”
“You’re okay. Come on. Let’s get the bed set up.”
He lifts the heavy mattress up on one end and slides it the rest of the way to the bedroom. He cuts the plastic cautiously to not nick the fabric with the blade. Then we both push and pull on the giant cushion until we get it in place. Once we are done, his phone begins to ring and he pulls it out of his pocket. “I need to take this.” I nod and he answers the phone, “Ambrose, long time…” He crooks his finger at me to follow him so I do. “Hey, Ambrose, hold on just one second.” I follow him back across the hallway to the little bedroom where there are some plastic shopping bags sitting on a dresser. He hands them to me and says, “I need to take this upstairs to make some notes. Here are the sheets. I’ll be back down in a minute.”
“Okay,” I mouth quietly.
He walks back toward the steps that lead upstairs and I return across the hall. I pull the package out of the bag and it’s a new set of sheets. When I pull them out of the bag a piece of paper flutters through the air toward the ground. I bend to pick it up and it’s the receipt for the sheets. I glance at the date, and it’s dated for 2 years ago, which is also weird. Why would someone keep new sheets for two years? I stick the receipt back down in the bag and begin making the bed. Once I finish with the bed, I walk to the dresser and slide a dresser drawer open slightly to see if it’s empty. I check the rest of them and they all are empty as well. I shut all the drawers back, then drag my luggage to the dresser and set my large bag on top of it. I decide not to unpack, I’ll just get what I need out of my suitcase. I grab my smaller suitcase, unzip it then lift the clothes still on a hanger up and look around for the closet. There are two doors to choose from, I open the one on the left slowly and find it is in fact a closet and it’s fairly empty, other than a few shoe boxes and paper lying around on the floor, so I have plenty of space to choose from. I hang my clothes up, turn to grab another handful of hanging clothes, and then let out a loud scream.
Alexander rolls his eyes. “Tank wants you to come upstairs.”
He turns and walks out of the room without another word, and I yell at the top of my lungs and I don’t care that I sound like a complete lunatic, “If one more person scares me, that’s it! I can’t be held responsible for my actions!”
I storm out of my new room, stomp up the stairs, and then follow the voices into the room
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