Home Invasion by Monique Polak Page B

her iPod from out of her pocket. Then he looked back at Mrs. Levesque. “You have silverware? Or did he sell that too?”
    â€œIt’s in the kitchen,” Mrs. Levesque said. “Second set of drawers to the left of the sink. At least it was there last time I checked,”she added, giving her husband an accusing look.
    â€œIt’s there,” Mr. Levesque said in a hoarse voice.
    As soon as the home invader got to the kitchen, I stepped out of the closet, carrying the metal bucket. My legs felt wobbly but at least now I had a plan. Well, sort of a plan anyway. Catching the home invader, solving a mystery, making a painting—they were all about details.
    I raised a finger to my mouth. If the home invader found me now, he’d tie me up too, and then I wouldn’t be of much use to the Levesques.
    Patsy’s eyes bulged. I could tell I had frightened her, but there wasn’t anything I could do about it then. Right now, every second counted.
    I could hear the home invader pulling open kitchen drawers. Then I heard the clatter of silverware as he emptied it into a bag.
    If only I had a little more time. In the end, it was Mrs. Levesque who helped me out. “There’s grocery money too. Not a lot, butyou can have it if you’ll go away and leave us alone,” she called out so the home invader would hear her. “It’s in the back pantry in a peanut butter jar.”
    The home invader whistled. “That’s what I like,” he called out. “Cooperation!”
    I held the bucket by the handle, careful not to let it bump into anything. It wasn’t exactly a lethal weapon, but it was all I had.
    I took a deep breath and tiptoed toward the kitchen, keeping as close as possible to the wall. Like before, all I could see was the home invader’s back. He was crouched on the floor, rummaging through the pantry and making grunting noises as he searched for the peanut butter jar. The handle of the knife jutted out of his side pocket.
    I willed him not to turn around. Just give me a few more seconds, I thought. This time I couldn’t hesitate.
    I was so close I could smell him. I swung the pail with every ounce of strength I had, aiming right for the middle of the thin white elastic that was holding his skeleton mask in place.
    He yelled as he tumbled over, his face to the ground. He was sprawled on the tile floor; his arms and legs were twitching. The bump on the back of his head was already as big as an egg. How long did I have before he regained consciousness? My fingers shook as I slid the knife out of his pocket. Then I raced back to the living room.
    First I used the knife to cut the tape on Mr. Levesque’s wrists and ankles. “Phone the police,” I told him as I began freeing Mrs. Levesque and Patsy. The electrical tape had left red welts on their wrists and ankles. When I took the gag from Patsy’s mouth, she started to cough. I hoped the noise wouldn’t wake up the home invader.
    In the background, I heard Mr. Levesque whispering on the phone.
    Mostly, of course, I was listening for sounds in the kitchen. For now, all I heard was the steady drip of the Levesques’ leaky faucet. With the knife in one hand, I grabbed what was left of the roll of electrical tape.
    Patsy and her parents followed me back into the kitchen.
    â€œQuick!” I said, keeping my voice low. “We need to drag him someplace where we can tie him up.”
    â€œThe table!” Patsy said.
    Together the four of us managed to drag the home invader over to the table. His mask was half off now, so we could see a bit of his face. It was badly sunburned and he had a thin moustache and small beard. He looked like a regular guy.
    Using the long strips of tape Patsy handed me, I tied his wrists to the table legs. If he wanted to go anywhere, he’d have to take the table with him.
    Suddenly he moaned. Then he opened one bloodshot eye. I lifted the knife into the air