Page 14 of There I Find Light

Eleanor couldn’t help smiling a little to herself. She didn’t feel quite so bad if he couldn’t even get the door open. If he had opened it on the first try, she would have felt like she was being inept or something.

Another thump, and still the door did not open. Another, and another.

Finally, he said, “What did she do to it?” He sounded out of breath.

“She didn’t tell me that she did anything special. She just said she was afraid to open it because... Well, Sally had an abusive father, and when she does something that she knows is going to make people mad, sometimes she panics. It’s just maybe PTSD?”

“I didn’t know that,” he said, and she realized that there had been a thread of anger in his words, but that sentence sounded contrite, like he felt bad for Sally. She loved what that said about him. About his compassion and his concern for others. It was gratifying to know that he didn’t hold it against Sally and maybe even understood.

“I wasn’t saying that to try to gain your sympathies. It’s the truth. Maybe she shouldn’t lock people in rooms if she’s afraid of their anger after she does so, but if it makes you feel any better, she didn’t mean to lock you in.”

“I know. She sounded really surprised when she found out that I wasn’t Peter.”

“She said something about a cowboy hat and the same color shirt, when she was messaging me,” Eleanor said, taking a step closer to the door.

“It’s kind of a long story, but basically Peter spilt his drink on me, and that’s how I ended up with the shirt.”

“And the hat?”

Franklin cleared his throat, and he seemed a little embarrassed, although that was just Eleanor guessing. It was dark and there was a door between them, so maybe she guessed wrong.

“He stuck it on my head and said chicks dig it. I just hadn’t had a chance to get it off.”

“Oh?” And now she was the one laughing. “Chicks dig the hat? Interesting.”

“You ought to know. That’s your gender.”

“Well, chicks could be male or female, technically. If we’re talking about chickens.”

“You mean both male and female baby chickens are called chicks,” he clarified.

“That is true.”

Just then a keening meow split the air, and they both fell silent.

“She was doing that a lot before you came.”

“That sounded...not good.”

There was another thump as he hit the door again, but it still didn’t budge.

“I wonder if we lift it up some, if that would help,” Eleanor said thoughtfully. “I seem to remember there being some kind of trick to it.” She hadn’t really thought about it, but back when they played together, there had been several times, now that she thought about it, when the door had gotten stuck. She’d been trapped in there once with three or four other people, and she’d been too young and dumb to be scared. She just thought it was fun. But as she thought about it, she remembered.

“I’m pretty sure if we lift up on it and pull out at the same time, it gives it a better angle or something. Maybe the hinges sag.”

“That would make sense,” Franklin said. “Do you remember if there was any kind of slot to put your fingers in, in order to lift up?”

She seemed to remember sticking her fingers underneath the door, where there was a small crack. But...there was also a spot on his side of the door.

“All right. We can lift up underneath the door, but as I recall the crack is pretty small, and my fingers are bigger now than they were then.”

“I can feel it, but I can’t really get my fingers underneath it.” His voice came from down below, like he’d knelt down.

“There is a spot, right underneath the door latch on your side. Be careful running your fingers down, because as I recall, I’ve gotten more than one splinter from the wood.”

“Ouch. You could have said that just a few seconds earlier.”

“Sorry.”