lake of shadow. As the boys walked along
the edge, Mike looked down into it, thinking of all the hiding places and forts
he could build down there, if he were still young enough to care about that
sort of thing. His brother might enjoy it, although Ryan was mainly interested
in sports these days. Better than forts, though—it was a place he could go with
a girl, when he met one. Down there under the bushes, naked on a blanket, he
wouldn’t care if he got dirty or if bugs climbed all over him. It would all be
worth it when she wrapped her legs around him.
When they
finally reached the houses, they turned and walked along the row. At the fifth
one, Mike stopped. “This is it.”
There wasn’t
much to see except an empty carport identical to every other on the block. That
was about all he’d seen of the place. A black Cadillac was parked in the
carport next door. Mike walked across the oil-stained cement and over a redwood
porch linking the carport to the front door. He slid the key into the lock.
Inside, it
smelled like a house that had been lived in till yesterday. Odors of butter and
garlic, faint and fading even now, slipped past him as he stepped inside, like
the last ghosts of the prior residents. Scott and Edgar followed him in. As
they got a good look at the place, all three of them let out exclamations.
Mike’s
mother had mentioned that the walls were painted, but he had never imagined
anything like this. One of the two men who’d lived here before, Roddy, was an
interior decorator, and he had partitioned the top floor into three areas. The
walls were midnight blue. A square of gold carpet lay in a small dining area,
divided from the kitchen by a wooden counter. Beyond the kitchen was a big
living room, with sliding glass doors opening onto a balcony at the far end.
Stairs ran down into the house, colored stripes running with them, zigzagging
past one landing and ending at a second two floors below.
“Wow,” said Edgar,
shutting the door. Scott stepped onto the square of yellow carpeting and stared
at the wall opposite the kitchen. It was one solid mirror.
“Get out of
there, Scott! Jesus, your feet are dirty!”
Scott gave
him a look he usually reserved for morons. Mike found himself wondering if he
could actually live in a house like this. It was like a place in a magazine. He
was afraid to put his own feet down.
They took
the stairs to the second level, which held two bedrooms. The biggest opened
onto another balcony. Three huge overlapping colored circles decorated the main
wall. The color scheme continued into a private bathroom.
“This has
got to be Mom and Jack’s room,” Mike said.
He backed
into the hall and saw Edgar opening a door next to the stairs.
“Look at this!”
he said.
Scott and
Mike followed him into the room—stopped in awe when they saw where they were.
They had
walked into a fairy tale. A full, silvery indoor moon hung in a luminous blue
sky, above rolling hills layered in shades of green, seeming to go on for
miles. The landscape covered every wall, except where a large walk-in closet
opened under the stairs. The design continued right on into a second bathroom,
which had a second entrance leading back into the hall.
“Unbelievable,”
Scott said.
“This is my
room,” Mike said, determined that it would be. He had never dreamed that such a
room could exist. It was like something out of the Narnia books: a plain wooden
door opening onto a secret world.
“You are one
lucky dude,” Edgar said. “Lucky, lucky, lucky.”
Mike
couldn’t possibly disagree.
The rest of
the house was an anticlimax. They followed the colored stripes down the stairs
to the third level, a large white room with mirrored tiles on opposite walls,
so you could stand between them and see your image reflected to infinity. It
was too bright for Mike, who preferred dark woods and cool shade, but for Ryan,
who could spend all day on the beach without getting burned, it seemed fine. He
began
the edge, Mike looked down into it, thinking of all the hiding places and forts
he could build down there, if he were still young enough to care about that
sort of thing. His brother might enjoy it, although Ryan was mainly interested
in sports these days. Better than forts, though—it was a place he could go with
a girl, when he met one. Down there under the bushes, naked on a blanket, he
wouldn’t care if he got dirty or if bugs climbed all over him. It would all be
worth it when she wrapped her legs around him.
When they
finally reached the houses, they turned and walked along the row. At the fifth
one, Mike stopped. “This is it.”
There wasn’t
much to see except an empty carport identical to every other on the block. That
was about all he’d seen of the place. A black Cadillac was parked in the
carport next door. Mike walked across the oil-stained cement and over a redwood
porch linking the carport to the front door. He slid the key into the lock.
Inside, it
smelled like a house that had been lived in till yesterday. Odors of butter and
garlic, faint and fading even now, slipped past him as he stepped inside, like
the last ghosts of the prior residents. Scott and Edgar followed him in. As
they got a good look at the place, all three of them let out exclamations.
Mike’s
mother had mentioned that the walls were painted, but he had never imagined
anything like this. One of the two men who’d lived here before, Roddy, was an
interior decorator, and he had partitioned the top floor into three areas. The
walls were midnight blue. A square of gold carpet lay in a small dining area,
divided from the kitchen by a wooden counter. Beyond the kitchen was a big
living room, with sliding glass doors opening onto a balcony at the far end.
Stairs ran down into the house, colored stripes running with them, zigzagging
past one landing and ending at a second two floors below.
“Wow,” said Edgar,
shutting the door. Scott stepped onto the square of yellow carpeting and stared
at the wall opposite the kitchen. It was one solid mirror.
“Get out of
there, Scott! Jesus, your feet are dirty!”
Scott gave
him a look he usually reserved for morons. Mike found himself wondering if he
could actually live in a house like this. It was like a place in a magazine. He
was afraid to put his own feet down.
They took
the stairs to the second level, which held two bedrooms. The biggest opened
onto another balcony. Three huge overlapping colored circles decorated the main
wall. The color scheme continued into a private bathroom.
“This has
got to be Mom and Jack’s room,” Mike said.
He backed
into the hall and saw Edgar opening a door next to the stairs.
“Look at this!”
he said.
Scott and
Mike followed him into the room—stopped in awe when they saw where they were.
They had
walked into a fairy tale. A full, silvery indoor moon hung in a luminous blue
sky, above rolling hills layered in shades of green, seeming to go on for
miles. The landscape covered every wall, except where a large walk-in closet
opened under the stairs. The design continued right on into a second bathroom,
which had a second entrance leading back into the hall.
“Unbelievable,”
Scott said.
“This is my
room,” Mike said, determined that it would be. He had never dreamed that such a
room could exist. It was like something out of the Narnia books: a plain wooden
door opening onto a secret world.
“You are one
lucky dude,” Edgar said. “Lucky, lucky, lucky.”
Mike
couldn’t possibly disagree.
The rest of
the house was an anticlimax. They followed the colored stripes down the stairs
to the third level, a large white room with mirrored tiles on opposite walls,
so you could stand between them and see your image reflected to infinity. It
was too bright for Mike, who preferred dark woods and cool shade, but for Ryan,
who could spend all day on the beach without getting burned, it seemed fine. He
began
Similar Books
