Three Character Girl
An unheeded warning
It's been a dozen times, not including every time you always miss."
"I don't understand why all this time what's in the bag hasn't gone away?" Jimmy interrupted.
"The question is - how can we get inside?" Mildred opened her voice. Mildred is a wise girl, who always goes straight to the point even though she is not as beautiful as the impulsive and noisy Pat. The four lost their minds facing the closed flat door. "Can't the porter help?" Jimmy proposes.
"Don't he have a master key or something?" Pat shook his head.
There are only two keys. One in the flat, hanging in the kitchen. While the other one is - or should be - in that fucking bag.
"If only this flat was on the ground floor," Pat lamented.
"We can break the window or something. Donovan, will you get into the flat through the plumbing or the wall like a cat?" Resolutely but politely Donovan refused.
"Flat on the fourth floor is a bit tricky, though" Jimmy said.
"What about fire rescue stairs?" Donovan.
"Nothing."
"There should be," Jimmy said.
"The five-story building must have a rescue ladder in case of fire."
"It should be, '" Pat responded.
"But what should be there is not helping us right now. How am I supposed to get into my flat?"
"Isn't there some kind, what is it?" Donovan.
"What do vegetable sellers use to raise their groceries?"
"Service shift," said Pat.
"There is, but it's just some kind of wired basket Wait - I know. What about the elevator to raise coal?"
"Well," cried Donovan, saying,
"this is a new idea!" Mildred put forward a discouraging suggestion.
"But Pat's kitchen door must be blocked from the inside, right?" This thought was immediately rejected.
"Where is it possible?" Donovan.
"No, if it's Pat's kitchen door," Jimmy added.
"Pat never locks or blocks anything."
"Yes, I don't think I'm barricading the kitchen door" Pat opened his voice.
"I took out the garbage bag this morning and I'm sure I didn't stop it after that and I don't think I'm going through that place anymore."
"Well," said Donovan,
"this fact is very useful for us tonight. Even so, Pat, I'm telling you that this habit of trifling makes you a target for thieves - not just cats - every night." This warning is ignored.
"Come," he exclaimed.
There's a garbage bag there. Carefully Donovan lifted the trash basket and stepped into the elevator. Crushed his nose.
"It's disgusting" he said.
"But, it's okay. Did I go alone, or did someone accompany me?"
"I'm coming, '" said Jimmy. He stepped over to Donovan's side.
"May this elevator be strong to hold me," he said hesitantly.
"You must be no heavier than a ton of coal" Pat said.
"Now we'll know soon" said Donovan cheerfully as he pulled the rope of the elevator. Accompanied by the sound of a shrieking hoist both disappeared from view.
"This lift makes a strange sound" Jimmy said as they ascended through the darkness.
"What do the people in the other flats think?"
"A ghost or a thief, I hope," replied Donovan.
"Pulling the rope of this elevator is a tough job. The job of the Friars Mansions porter turned out to be heavier than I thought. Jimmy are you counting now up to what floor?"
"God! No. gabe. I forgot."
"Thankfully I counted it. The third floor we're passing by now. Next our goal."
"Now" Jimmy grumbled,
"don't Pat bar the door." These worries do not come true. With one touch the wooden door was opened. The two step into Pat's dark-gulita kitchen.
"We should've brought the flashlight, then" said Donovan.
"I know Pat's nature. All the stuff is splattered on the floor and we're gonna hit the stuff before I reach the light switch. Don't move anywhere until the lights turn on, Jimmy." Carefully he walked while fumbling.
"Damn it!", grunted loudly as the corner of the kitchen table nudged his ribs. It reaches the light button. A moment later we heard another swearing "Damn it!" from darkness. "What's wrong?" ask Jimmy. "The light is not on. Maybe the light ball's dead. Waita minute. I'll turn on the sitting room lights." The sitting room is the room whose door is exactly on the opposite side. Jimmy hears Donovan coming out the door swearing. Jimmy himself carefully walked sideways across the kitchen. "What's wrong?" "I don't know. At night the rooms became bewitched, I was sure of this. It feels like everything is spoiled. Chairs and tables are in an undue place. Oh, fuck! Here again!" However, at that moment Jimmy coincidentally touched the electric button and pressed it down. The next minute the two young men looked at each other in a terrifying silence. That room wasn't Pat's sitting room they'd gone wrong. First of all, the room was much more crowded than Pat's sitting room. No wonder Donovan repeatedly hit chairs and tables. In the middle of the room lies a large round table, covered in thick woolen cloth. There's an aspidistra plant in the window. The two men were convinced that the room belonged to an eccentric person. In a sinister silence the two looked at the table on which lay a pile of letters. "Mrs Ernestine Grant," Donovan took a breath, took the letters and read her name. "Geez! You think he heard us?" "It's a shame he didn't hear you" said Jimmy. "What about your swearing and the way you hit the furniture" For God's sake! Let's get out of this place quickly." They hurriedly turned off the lights and tiptoed down their steps earlier. Jimmy breathed a sigh of relief as they had reached the elevator without further incident. "I really like women who sleep well" he said. "Mrs Ernestine Grant has her own advantages." "Now I know," said Donovan, "why are we wrong, in counting the floors I mean. We got up from the basement." *** Donovan sighed the rope and the elevator drove up. "This time we're not mistaken anymore." "With all my heart I hope so" Jimmy chimed. The darkness came back around them.
"My nerves can't stand the shock." No more tension. As soon as the lights were turned on they immediately saw Pat's kitchen. Then they opened the front door and let the two girls waiting outside enter.
"You guys are so long," Pat grumbled. "Me and Mildred waited a long time." "We were just adventuring" Donovan said.
"We could have been dragged to the police station as dangerous criminals." Pat had passed, walked into the sitting room, turned on the lights, and dropped his shawl onto the sofa. With interest and passion he listened to the reports of Donovan's adventures.
"Thank God you weren't caught off guard" Pat commented.
"The old man is bad at war. I got a message from him this morning. He wants to see me sometime. There's something he wants to complain about - my piano, I guess. People who do not like to hear the sound of the piano should not live in flats. Donovan, your hand is hurt. All the blood. Wash it under the faucet." Donovan looked at his hand in surprise. Soon he came out of the room and called Jimmy.
"Hello" said Jimmy.
"How" You're not hurt badly, are you?"
"I'm not hurt at all." There was something strange in Donovan's voice so Jimmy looked at him in surprise. Donovan stretched out his hand that had been washed clean. Jimmy saw no cuts or scratches.
"It's weird" said Jimmy, frowning.
"There's a lot of blood. And where's the blood?"
