The Ten Year Window

Chuck felt his pockets as he approached their front door with his nine-year old son, Sammy. Chuck swore under his breath.

He turned to Sammy, “Sorry, kid.”

“What happened, Dad?”

“My keys. I don’t know. I had them. I’m sure I had them… I thought I had them.”

They looked at the imposing door as if it held the answer. It stood impervious to all questions.

“Why don’t we keep a spare under the mat?”

“Or I could leave it unlocked and save the cost of cutting the key,” Chuck said. “Everyone looks under the mat.”

“But…”

Chuck gave Sammy a look that shut him up. They stood in silence for what seemed a long time. Chuck paced and looked down the sides of the ‘cabin,’ as they called it. The property sloped down toward the back. They could see the town below, through the trees.

“I don’t want to break a window.”

“What are we going to do, Dad?”

Chuck glanced around and then whispered to Sammy. “Let’s go around back. I may have a solution.”

Sammy followed his father to the rear of the house to the patio area. He looked up at the window Chuck had his sights on. Sammy shook his head doubtfully.

Chuck squatted and said, “Hop on up, Sam. I’ll give you a boost.”

“And then what?”

“Then you climb in the open window. I’ll meet you at the front door.”

“I can’t reach that.”

Chuck stood again. “Sure you can. Stand on my shoulders and I’ll get you up there.” They looked at each other. Sammy waited for the punch line. Chuck waited for Sammy to discover his sense of adventure.

Chuck rephrased it. “You’re big enough to get to the window and small enough for me to lift you.”

“Really? What if it’s locked?”

“It’s not. I never lock it.”

“Why not?”

“Just in case. But don’t tell anyone. Let’s go.” Chuck squatted again.

“A key under the mat would be easier.”

“Easier for the burglars. Come on… Onward and upward!”

Sammy mounted Chuck piggy-back style.

“Now, when we get to the wall, work your way up to my shoulders. Steady yourself with the wall. Okay?”

“What would Mom say?”

“Your Mommy’s not here, Sammy. You’ve got to trust me on this.”

“If you say so.”

“Pretend we’re in the circus.”

“Are we clowns?”

Chuck braced himself on the wall and Sammy worked his way onto his father’s shoulders.

Chuck stood up as tall as possible. “How are you doing?”

“Almost there. But I’m too short.”

“Naw! You’ve got to stretch.”

Sammy reached the sill with his fingers but lacked leverage to raise the window. “Don’t we have a ladder?”

“Lean against the wall and step on my palm. I’ll boost you on up. Hang on!”

Sammy couldn’t imagine how he would safely get down from this. There was no turning back. With Chuck’s extra incentive and few more inches, Sammy gained a grip and worked the window up.

“Got it!”

“Good. As soon as you’re in, meet me at the door.”

With his last energy, Sammy forced the window open and wiggled into the opening. Half-way through, he got caught. Sammy twisted around to push the window up a few more inches. He rolled onto the rug and lay there for a moment, panting.

The doorbell rang.

“Man! Give me a minute.” Sammy rolled upright and ran to the front of the house.

Chuck pounded on the door. Sammy flung it open.

Chuck spread his arms to him. “Hey, hey! We did it! Are we a team, or what?”

Sammy let himself be hugged. It felt good to be standing on the ground again.

~

The window slid open easily. Sammy stepped through it into the dark room.

The clack-clack racking sound from a 12 gauge shotgun stopped Sammy cold.

“Put it up, Dad. It’s me. Sam.”

Chuck spoke from the darkness. “Someone crawling through my window in the middle of the night is asking to get blown away.”

“But it’s me, Dad.”

 “How would I know who it is? Ever think of knocking? Aim to get yourself killed?”

“I didn’t want to wake you, Dad. I forgot my key.”

“This window is for emergencies, Sam. I don’t want you to make a habit of it.”

“Once every decade, Dad. That’s a pretty hard habit to…”

“You know what I mean. Go put the ladder back and come in through the door like someone who walks upright.”

“Tonight?”

“I don’t want people knowing we have a ladder laying around. Or what window it reaches.”

Sammy saw no point in further debate. No arguing with a shotgun. He crouched and stepped through the window. He paused to secure his footing on the upper rung and started down.

Chuck appeared at the window. “I’ll get the window. Stow the ladder. See you ‘round front.”

Sammy made his way down the ten footer. Above him, he heard the window shut. He stepped onto solid ground. He carried the unwieldy ladder and slid it back into the crawl space. Done.

All this because he forgot his key. In his mind’s eye, Sammy could see the key on his night stand. So, hiding one under the door mat won’t do? How about under the lawn gnome’s hat? Maybe get it surgically implanted. Or not.

He walked to the break, where the slope turned serious. The town glowed quietly below him. Pine scented air filled his lungs. He threw a rock. It clattered through the trees and landed with a distant thud. Some animal moved through the brush.

He turned to the dark cabin looming in the moon light. Time to move out.

~

Sammy got a call from Chuck. He locked himself out and needed help getting back in.

He kissed his wife and kids good-night and assured her he wouldn’t be long. He told her he needed to hash some things out with his Dad.

Sammy knew the routine. He’d been doing it for thirty years.

He drove to the cabin. His headlights showed Chuck standing by the front door.

“You need a spare key, Dad.”

“I’ve got one, your old key. It’s safe inside.”

Sammy looked at his father and they both started laughing.

“Let’s go. I don’t want to keep you from your bride.”

They made their way down to the back yard. Chuck stopped and looked up at the window.

“It never gets any closer.”

Sammy continued toward the crawl space. “The ladder will help.”

“No ladder.”

“What happened to the ladder?”

“Got rid of it. Too many people knew about it.”

“Besides you and me?”

“Maybe.”

“Well, you can’t boost me, Dad. I’m not nine anymore.”

“I figured it time you returned the favor.”

“You’re going to stand on my shoulders?”

“That’s the plan. Don’t think you’re up to it?”

Sammy took in the task at hand and shook his head.

“Okay… I hope your affairs are…”

“You aren’t holding any grudges against me are you?”

“Not especially.”

“Good. Let’s do this.”

Sammy squatted and Chuck kneeled on his back while holding the wall. Sammy stood under his father’s weight. Chuck climbed upright. Neither of them expected this to be so difficult. Chuck stretched for the window which remained inches out of reach.

Chuck called out. “Why are you so short? When I boosted you up, you had no trouble reaching it.”

“Maybe you shrunk, Dad.”

“Cut the guff, you runt. I may be standing on your shoulders, but I can still take you out.”

Sammy stood a little straighter and Chuck grasped the sill.

“Got it! But I need a little more to get her open.”

“Hold on. Are you holding on?”

“More or less…”

“We need some leverage.” Sammy saw a piece of scrap 2X4 on the ground and went for it.”

“Hey! Don’t leave me hanging here!”

Sammy reached up with the board. “Step on this! Push yourself up.”

Chuck waggled his feet around until they made contact with the board. Just what he needed. Sammy got under it and pushed. Chuck got the window open and hoisted himself into the opening. With a little more work, he made it inside. In a few moments Chuck leaned out of the window and waved to Sammy.

“Made it! You want to come in?”

“You need me?”

“Not if you’re going to put it that way.”

They looked at each other.

Chuck said, “I never see you anymore, Sam. Come and have a beer.”

Sammy thought about it for a beat too long, but relented and walked to the front. Chuck greeted him at the door and welcomed him in.

It had been too long.

They sat in the kitchen, clinked bottle necks and drank. There wasn’t much to say.

Then Chuck got around to it. “I don’t know if you like this place.”

“I grew up here.”

“Right.”

“A lot of memories.”

Chuck nodded, “You probably know, once I’m gone…”

“That’s a ways off though, right?”

“Regardless. It all goes to you. Make it your own.”

“It’s a nice property.” Sammy shifted in his chair.

“But a little advice?”

Sammy saw Chuck’s set up. He shut his eyes.

Chuck continued, “Don’t lock the damned back window.”

They both burst into laughter and clinked bottles again. They drank and sat for a time.

Sammy looked at his Dad and smiled. “I’m thinking of putting a stairs back there.”