Smog - Baggage of Enternal Night by Lisa Morton and Eric J. Guignard Page B

at the padlock that kept her chained to the
refrigerator.
    “You can’t. CJ keeps them in a
pocket.”“I know.”
    Mom looked at the rolling pin
and knew what I had in mind. “Joey, he’s your brother…”
    “I won’t use it if I don’t have
to. And if I have to…I won’t kill him, Mom. I promise.”
    Of course I had no way of
keeping that promise. The pin felt heavy enough to kill a giant with. I
could’ve taken out Odd Job with it. But at that moment, after what CJ had made
me do (and what Larry wanted to make me do), I didn’t much care if it
killed him or not.
    “Joey…”
    I didn’t answer her. I was
already creeping out the back door.
    It was a warm night; a glow in
one part of the sky told me the moon was full, or nearly so, but it was hidden
behind the smog. I paused to let my eyes adjust, then picked my way on tiptoe
around the debris.
    I passed Larry first;
fortunately he was snoring loudly enough to cover any noise I might have made,
but the idea of having to walk too close to him still made me shiver. The other
two guys were to my right. CJ was to the left.
    My brother was sprawled in the
lawn on his back, arms thrown out, head tilted to one side. He wasn’t a snorer,
but his breathing seemed deep and even. I knelt down in the grass beside him
and set the rolling pin down, pondering.
    Where to start? I might only
have one shot at this, so I needed to do it right the first time. Of course if
the keys were in a back pocket, I was out of luck. I tried to remember what
he’d done with them after he’d locked Mom up, and I was pretty sure he’d shoved
them into a front pocket. I was on his right side, that pocket just below me,
so it should be easy enough…
    He moved beneath me, shifting
position slightly to his left.
    I froze, fully
expecting him to wake up, see the rolling pin, guess my plan, and hand me off
to Larry (“ Here, man, I won’t even charge you ”). Or maybe they’d just
eat me. At least they wouldn’t get much meat.
    But instead he continued to
sleep, and the pocket was now easier to reach.
    I took a deep breath and slid
my hand out. I rested my fingers lightly on the top of the pocket, and CJ didn’t
react. I slid my three middle fingers in up to the first knuckle, and he slept
on. This was it.
    I moved my entire hand into the
pocket and gently felt around.
    Some papers…two coins…lint…
    Keys.
    I slid one finger through the
key ring, and started to pull, as slowly as possible. Slowly…the keys were
coming…slowly…the key ring was appearing now…
    The keys came free from the
pocket.
    They jingled.
    I turned to stone.
    CJ didn’t wake up.
    I moved my other hand to form a
fist around the keys, muffling any further sound. Then I rose and returned to
the house.
    As I entered, Mom looked on
anxiously. “Did you get them?”
    “Yeah…”
    I walked towards her, uncurling
my fingers from around the keys. I’d gripped them so tightly it hurt to move my
fingers.
    Shaking slightly, I went
through the keys quickly. House key…another large key…a car key I didn’t know
he had…one padlock key.
    I slid it into the lock. It
didn’t fit.
    “What’s wrong?” Mom asked.
    “I…” I looked at the name of
the manufacturer on the key and the one on the padlock.
    They were different. This was a
key to another lock. Probably his school locker or maybe his bike.
    “It’s not here.” I tossed the
keys up onto the kitchen counter. “They must be in one of his other pockets.”
    I walked over to the door.
Behind me, Mom called out, “Joey, stay in.”
    But I was mad. I was going to
get those keys no matter what. Even if I had to kill someone.
    Even if I had to kill CJ.
    I strode across the lawn, less
caring if I made noise or not. I’d left the rolling pin behind, and I dropped
to my knees by CJ, retrieving the heavy wooden tool. If the key was in his left
pocket, there was no way I could reach it without waking him…unless he was
already unconscious.
    I raised the