Chapter 19
Beck
Just after eleven a.m. on Saturday, and I've been sitting in my car in the parking lot behind Allie's apartment waiting. She hasn't been at work all week. She hasn't responded to any of my messages or answered any of my calls. I've walked across the street at least ten times to use the toilets at the DQ, and they started demanding I purchase food in order to be able to use their facilities, so now my car smells like chili dogs and opinion rings. I'm tired. I've been up all night, and I just refuse to leave until Allie shows up.
If she thinks she can just ghost me, she's wrong. Her job is too important to not show up. If she's sick, why isn't her Jeep here? And if she's not sick, then maybe something happened to her. So I sip what's left of my melted Oreo Blizzard® and watch the entrance to her apartment. The door to the stairwell is open. I've seen her neighbors come and go a few times--lovely dark-haired couple with a few young kids. But no sign of her.
I don't know if I can sit here all weekend, but I'll sure try. I don't want to risk driving to one of the other fast-food restaurants in town to get something to eat. If she comes back while I'm gone I'll miss that opportunity. So I wait. I eat a plate of chili fries, a dish of onion rings, a bowl of ice cream, and finally after nearly eighteen hours of waiting here for her the black Jeep rumbles into the parking lot.
Only, Allie isn't driving it.
It's her friend, Jess.
I scrunch down in my seat, hoping she doesn't see me, and I watch her. I'm parked at the back of the lot; she parks right by the building. She seems to be talking to herself. Are you a little crazy, Jess? Talking to yourself helps you not feel lonely? And she really goes at it too, like she's arguing or something.
Finally she opens the door and slides out. I recognize the large satchel she carries cross-body over her shoulder. It's Allies bag, and if she's driving Allie's car, and she's here, it means she probably has Allie's keys too.
What are you up to, Jess? Have you done something to our little precious angel? Why would you be here driving her Jeep and carrying her bag?
Curiosity gets the better of me. The minute Jess vanishes around the side of the building moving toward the door, I slip out of my car and run across the parking lot with feather toes. If she hears me, she'll freak out and run or something; I just know it. She's guilty. She's done something with Allie, and now she's back to ransack her apartment and steal from her or something.
I'm winded, sucking air harder than an emphysema patient in a nursing home, but I force myself to breathe quietly as I open the door and start up the stairs. Jess is still talking to herself, now digging through Allie's bag. She doesn't hear me behind her at all. She's on the top step opening the door to the landing. I wait just around the corner as she enters; then I creep up the last few stairs.
Peeking through the crack in the door, I watch her fumble with the keys and open Allie's apartment. If she goes in and shuts the door I'm trapped outside. I can't let that happen. She can't steal from Allie. But if I confront her, and she's armed, she could hurt me too. I bite my lip as indecision tethers me to the top step, but as she pushes Allie's apartment door open, I lurch forward and burst through both doors at once, tackling Jess into the hallway just inside Allie's door.
"Hey! What are you! Beck?" Jess scrambles to get up, frantically looking into the bag as I pry myself off the floor.
"What the hell are you doing! Where is Allie?"
She scowls and pushes the bag around behind her, still slung crosswise over her chest as I use my foot to shut the door, and I push the hair out of my eyes.
"Fuck's sake, Beck. You could have just said hello." Jess's eyes are large like saucers. She turns and walks down the hallway toward the living room, and I hear her whispering something I can't make out.
Why the fuck are you talking to your bag, Jess? You really are delusional, aren't you? Are you dangerous, you little bitch?
"Where is Allie? She hasn't returned any of my calls or messages. What did you do with her?" I follow her up the hallway to the dark living room. The air in here smells stale, like no one has opened the doors or windows all week. Leftovers from our dinner last weekend still sit near the sink, a swarm of flies zipping around in the air nearby. Was Jess so jealous of Allie inviting me over that she did something horrible?
"She's at my house. She's sick." Jess's voice is curt, cold. She walks around the living room collecting things: a laptop and charger cable, a phone charger--that may explain why Allie didn't respond--and Allie's work briefcase.
"What are you doing?"
"I'm getting things for her to work from home. Okay? I'm sorry, I can't give you more information. I'll tell her you're worried." Jess's forehead is crinkled, her eyes flitting about. She's scared of something.
As she passes, I grab the strap of the satchel and pull on it, and she whips around on her heels toward me, yelping, "What are you doing!"
"Give me Allie's bag, Jess. Tell me what you're doing." She drops the load she carries in her arms as I yank the strap over her head, and she grabs it and holds onto it tightly, as if there is something in there she doesn't want me to see. Is it a murder weapon? Are you a killer?
"Stop, be careful!" she squeals, almost fear or concern in her voice.
"Give it!" I tug harder, pulling her so hard she almost falls over.
"I said be careful. What the fuck, Beck." She pulls back, but not with as much force. "You have no clue what you're doing."
"Stop being a bitch and tell me what you did with Allie." I pull again, and hear a muffled scream from somewhere, in the closet maybe?
Both of us freeze, staring at each other. And Jess swallows hard. I can see her paralyzed with fear. I feel the bag jostle even though neither of us moves, and I look down at it. It's moving; something is inside of it.
"What the?" I mutter as the top pushes open and a tiny hand appears.
Allie's tiny head squeezes out of the top of the bag, and she looks up at me with a scowl. "Can you two knock it the fuck off and be more careful!" Her voice is high-pitched and squeaky, and she's small enough to fit into a satchel?
"Holy shit..." I feel my world spinning and my head swims. I take a deep breath, and feel my body falling. What did she do to you Allie bug?
***
Something cold and wet hits my face and my eyes pop open instantly. I sit straight up and find myself in a strange living room. Powder-blue wallpaper with silver swirls bordered by white wainscotting and matching powder-blue carpet greet me. I rub my head. It feels like I knocked it pretty good. There's a lump near my temple that I know wasn't there last night.
Everything starts to come back to me as I blink and let my eyes focus. Jess sits across the room in an armchair looking guilty as fuck. What sort of evil are you perpetrating, Jess? As I turn slowly, I see Allie seated on the coffee table, legs dangling from the side. For a moment I think I'm seeing things, until she speaks.
"Are you okay?"
She's tiny, like very tiny, but it's her. I blink hard, trying to make it make sense, and I stretch a single finger in her direction and touch her knee. She grimaces and then smiles painfully before looking at Jess--who sits in silence looking ashamed. This can't be happening. People don't shrink, and even if they did how on earth did these two do this?
"What the actual fuck is going on, Allie?" My words are mumbled out, barely audible. I shake my head and run a hand through my hair. I'm sure it looks awful after spending the entire night awake in my car. Besides the fact that I started at Allie's apartment, and I can only assume we're at Jess's house now. However they got me here couldn't have been easy.
"Let me explain..." Allie stands up, and I jerk away, frightened. Why that scares me I don't know.
This is insane, Allie. People don't shrink. You're the size of a doll--a really fucking cute doll, but a doll all the same. And what the fuck are you wearing? It looks like you robbed a hobo Barbie. You've got the real San Fran trash-bag vibe going on.
"So Jess's grandpa died. He was like a government scientist down in Dayton at the air force base. Anyway, he left these guns behind, and Jess and I--well, we accidentally shot her dog and then me, and I just need help getting back to my normal size." Allie crosses her arms over her chest and stares up at me with pleading eyes. "It's not like I can go to the hospital or something. Not only will Jess probably go to jail, but they'll use me like a pin cushion and experiment on me."
Holy fuck, this is messed up. I stand and cover my mouth, pacing in front of the picture window that overlooks the street. If people out there knew what fucked up shit was going on in here Jess would definitely get locked up. She deserves to. Look what she's done to Allie. I feel cold, the kind of cold you feel when it reaches your bones and the only way to warm up is in a blistering shower while drinking scalding coffee. It's anxiety or nerves; I know it. Who wouldn't feel shock when faced with a situation like this?
"So you've been this way all week? That's why you didn't come into work?" I turn to face Allie. Jess sits with her face buried in her palms and her shoulders slumped. She is so fucking dead. My God...
"Yes. I'm sorry. It's also why I never returned any calls or texts. We were freaking out all week trying to figure out which gun is a growth ray to make me normal. And I didn't have my charger so my phone was dead." Allie wrings her hands and sighs. "I swear, I wasn't ghosting you. Jess and I are scared. I don't want to be a government science experiment."
