Safekeeping: A Bad Pennies Story

Twelve-year-old Erica Stauffer had been asleep in her bedroom when something woke her. She blinked in the early morning dark and saw a figure in her room. The figure was facing away from her and seemed to be examining her dresser. A chill went through her that no blanket might stop.

She moved slowly, reaching one arm from her bed to the floor, her hand found some clothing, the television remote, and a ceramic mug she’d used for some Jasmine tea she’d put way too much honey in the night before. She picked up the empty cup, then carefully sat up, trying her best to be as quiet as possible. She heard the figure move the dresser as it scrapped across the wood floor.

Erica took aim with the cup and threw it in the direction of the figure. The moment the mug was out of her hand she scrambled out of bed and hit the light switch on the wall just as the figure cried out. Erica scanned the floor for something, anything else to use as a weapon when the figure spoke.

“What the fuck, Erica?” at the sound of his voice, Erica lost her fear and gained anger.

“What the fuck yourself,” Erica said. “What are you doing in my room?”

“Used to be my room before you came along,” he said, rubbing the spot on his back where the mug had hit him. “That’s gonna leave a bruise.”

The boy in front of her was seven years older than Erica and made sure she knew it every chance he got. Her older brother, Jesse. When they were younger, they got along, but in recent years he treated her like an annoyance. Her mother said he’d grow out of it. But at the moment, she just wanted him to go away so she could go back to sleep.

“Serves you right. You scared the hell out of me.”

Jesse’s attitude seemed to disappear. His face fell and he stared at her ducking his head as he talked.

“I’m sorry, sis,” he said sheepishly. “I didn’t mean to wake you. I tried to be quiet.”

“What were you doing?”

“There’s a loose floorboard under your dresser,” Jesse said, sitting at the foot of her bed.

“What?”

Jesse looked around as if some random person might see them though the curtains were drawn and the door to her bedroom was shut.

“I need to hide this,” Jesse said, reaching into his coat and pulled out a small, black revolver.

Erica’s eyes got wide.

“Dad doesn’t want me to have it,” Jesse explained. “I just wanted to hide it in your room because I know he’s going to search mine. Also, your room used to be my room and I knew this spot was here.”

“What’s in it for me?” Erica demanded.

“What do you want?”

“You gotta take me and Simone to the Maroon Five concert in October. Dad said we could go if you’d chaperone.”

“Seriously?” Jesse considered it for all of a second and said, “Fine.”

“And you let me hold that,” Erica said, pointing at the gun.

“It’s not a toy,” Jesse said.

“Duh. I know that,” Erica said. “C’mon, let me see it.”

“Okay, chipmunk,” Jesse said. He popped open the cylinder and dumped the six bullets into his hand. He then handed the gun to Erica.

It was heavier than she thought it’d be. She spun the cylinder, enjoying the sound. Then she snapped it shut. She put her hands around the grip and tried to pull the trigger, but she found it much harder to pull than expected.

“Careful,” Jesse said.

She pointed the gun at nothing and squeezed the trigger thinking it would be really hard to pull, but finding it surprisingly easy. The gun clicked.

“Good job, Annie Oakley. Now hand that back.”

Erica gave the gun back to her brother and watched as he slipped the bullets back into the chambers. Her brother then moved her dresser. He started trying to pry the board up with his hands, but he wasn’t having much luck.

Jesse looked at her. “Help me,” he said. When she didn’t move, he followed up with, “Your hands are smaller.”

Together they got the board up and Jesse placed the gun under the floorboard, carefully put the board back, and then slid the dresser back into place.

Jesse put a finger to his lips then put that finger on Erica’s lips. It felt warm and smelled vaguely of alcohol. Erica wasn’t sure what kind.

“Our secret, chipmunk. Go back to sleep.”

Jesse turned around and walked out of the room. Erica did not go back to sleep.

If she told her parents what Jesse did, she’d probably get in trouble for helping. And as long as the gun was hidden, it was safe. Right? She kept thinking about it. And then she’d rethink what she thought. Had Jesse hidden other things in her room? What if she just told her dad as soon as he’s home from work? Or should she call him right now? But then Jesse would never talk to her again or take her to the concert. Erica had put a pillow over her head hoping to block out the increasing morning light.