It Cannot Get Any Worse
A Horrible Note
Quentin heard “Empty room” from the other side of the secret door. Quentin leaned through the bedroom doorway into the hall as much as he could while tethered to the IV line. The hall lights were on and were probably visible through the secret door/bookcase at the other end of the hall. Quentin reached out and turned off the lights and the hall went almost black. The only light was coming from the big window in the bedroom and the window well was almost completely full of vines, so not much light really came through. He did not know what to do if someone found the secret door. There was no missing the bedroom at the end of the hall with whimpering and moaning coming from inside. He wanted to alert the people outside the house that someone was in the house, but he did not want to reveal the bedroom full of people down the long dark hallway behind the secret door. If he had something to make smoke or fire, he could set off the smoke detectors, but he did not have any means to make fire. Maybe one of the SCA people smoked? The problem was, talking could reveal where they were without letting the people outside know there were people in the house. He hoped they could remain hidden or find a way to make enough noise to attract the people outside. What were the crossbow guys doing? They were supposed to be protecting them.
Quentin had his left arm extended back into the bedroom to give him another inch or two of tether to the IV. His arm bumped the trumpet on the dresser and knocked it over. It jogged a memory.
Last night Dad had come down to bid Quentin good night. He was really saying time to stop practicing and go to bed. It was late. Quentin had already stopped and was putting his trumpet away. He heard Dad opening the secret door and stepped into the hall with his trumpet. The hall lights were off. Q thought it would be funny to see if he could startle Dad. Dad was always jumping out of dark corners and startling people. He thought it was funny. When dad opened the bookcase door fully, Quentin gave a blast on his trumpet. It worked perfectly – sort of. Dad was so startled he jumped back and fell over. Q was afraid Dad was hurt or he would be mad. Dad had so much trouble with his knees lately, that Q was afraid he could not get up. He set the trumpet on the dresser and ran to help him up and found Dad laughing. “You really got me” he chuckled.
Touching the trumpet reminded him of last night. Could it work again? Worst case he would just get shot, which was likely to happen anyway if they found the secret door. Q reached in with his right hand and grabbed the trumpet.
As he turned into the bedroom to get the trumpet, Q noticed Danny's pull up strap and weight lying next to the door in the bedroom. The bedroom had become a work out room since sister moved away. The strap allowed Danny to comfortably hang a 45 pound weight plate around his neck while doing pull ups. Q thought “what the heck?” He bent over and looped the strap around his neck. He stood up with difficulty, but he now had a thick metal plate protecting his abdomen. Would it stop a bullet?
Quentin picked up his trumpet again leaned out of the doorway as far as his left arm and the IV would allow and pulled the door partly closed to prevent light from the window from getting into the hallway. He squeezed against the wall to present as little a profile as possible. He thought of the loudest, most abrasive sounding note he knew. He would hit the guy with a full blast b natural. A b natural would frazzle anyone. It was a horrible note.
Quentin had his left arm extended back into the bedroom to give him another inch or two of tether to the IV. His arm bumped the trumpet on the dresser and knocked it over. It jogged a memory.
Last night Dad had come down to bid Quentin good night. He was really saying time to stop practicing and go to bed. It was late. Quentin had already stopped and was putting his trumpet away. He heard Dad opening the secret door and stepped into the hall with his trumpet. The hall lights were off. Q thought it would be funny to see if he could startle Dad. Dad was always jumping out of dark corners and startling people. He thought it was funny. When dad opened the bookcase door fully, Quentin gave a blast on his trumpet. It worked perfectly – sort of. Dad was so startled he jumped back and fell over. Q was afraid Dad was hurt or he would be mad. Dad had so much trouble with his knees lately, that Q was afraid he could not get up. He set the trumpet on the dresser and ran to help him up and found Dad laughing. “You really got me” he chuckled.
Touching the trumpet reminded him of last night. Could it work again? Worst case he would just get shot, which was likely to happen anyway if they found the secret door. Q reached in with his right hand and grabbed the trumpet.
As he turned into the bedroom to get the trumpet, Q noticed Danny's pull up strap and weight lying next to the door in the bedroom. The bedroom had become a work out room since sister moved away. The strap allowed Danny to comfortably hang a 45 pound weight plate around his neck while doing pull ups. Q thought “what the heck?” He bent over and looped the strap around his neck. He stood up with difficulty, but he now had a thick metal plate protecting his abdomen. Would it stop a bullet?
Quentin picked up his trumpet again leaned out of the doorway as far as his left arm and the IV would allow and pulled the door partly closed to prevent light from the window from getting into the hallway. He squeezed against the wall to present as little a profile as possible. He thought of the loudest, most abrasive sounding note he knew. He would hit the guy with a full blast b natural. A b natural would frazzle anyone. It was a horrible note.