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Show Twisters . . . 62 I flashed the light at Arthur who was rolling his eyes. We couldn't get it through her head how bad things were. "If we fool around long enough," he said down low, "the fire department will be_ here." I thought of how surprised she'd be, bringing them in by mental telepathy. Finally, though, I_ had an idea. We dragged the sofa she'd been sleeping on to the window and tried angling a set of old-timey bedsprings from the cushions to the wall. Arthur and I took turns testing it, changing the angle of the springs, trying it again. It sagged a little under Arthur's weight, but it made a pretty fair ladder for someone my size. Smiley watched, shining the light for us as we worked, predicting everything from broken bones to heart failure if she tried to climb that "monkey fence" herself. By the time we were ready to boost her up there, Stacey had a blanket folded on the window sill, "We'll get you out," she kept encouraging Smiley, "I'm really strong, huh, Arthur? We can't leave you here, you know. Anything could happen." Then, as if she'd just thought of it, "Hey, I could try it first . . • I will if you want me to." For a second there I forgot all about Smiley. Stacey looked so beautiful hanging over that window sill, her hair whipping across her red and swollen cheek. I was beginning to think of her as a rescuing angel or something, the way she was always saving people. "Take her other arm, Dan," Stacey said in a sharp voice that brought me back to earth. |