Steve Hamilton - The Lock Artist

“We’re just gonna play a little joke on somebody,” Brian said to me. He smoothed his hands over the rolled-up banner. “Don’t worry, it’s nothing hardcore.”

I looked in the rearview mirror, caught Griffin’s eye. He put his hands up. Like, why the hell not?

Brian told me to head to the center of town. We rolled down Main Street, past the liquor store. I was still feeling the effects of the Sucker Punch, so I ended up having to brake hard as we passed under the railroad bridge. For one moment I thought with absolute certainty that we’d hit the embankment and we’d all be killed. Then I pulled out of it just in time.

“I hate that fucking bridge,” Brian said. When we hit the edge of town, Brian told me to keep going. We were on a lonely stretch of road now, nothing but trees whizzing by us on both sides. We were heading east.

“You figured out where we’re going now?” Brian said.

I shook my head.

“There’s somebody we really need to give this banner to.”

I shook my head again.

“It’s right up here,” he said. “You’re gonna take a left.”

We came to a sign that said WELCOME TO LAKE SHERWOOD. This was one of the original big subdivisions, built before all the other McMansions started popping up all over the place. More importantly, being in Lake Sherwood meant that we had crossed the line that divided the school district into its two separate parts. Milford High School and Lakeland High School.

“There’s a party up there,” Trey said. “Better be cool.”

“I see it, I see it.” Brian had me stop as we came up on a line of cars parked on the street. We could see the big house with every light on and a swimming pool in the backyard. There were twenty or thirty people having a hell of a party.

“It’s right there,” Brian said, nodding to another house, directly across the street. This house was mostly dark, save for one light in the front window.

“You’re sure they’re gone?” Trey said.

“They’re up at Mackinac Island. A little graduation present for our friend Adam.”

It all made sense now. This was the house of Adam Marsh, Brian’s archrival. The one man he could never beat on the football field or on the wrestling mat.

“I don’t see any of those alarm signs on the front lawn,” Trey said. “You know what I mean? Those signs to let you know the place is wired?”

Brian didn’t answer him. He was too busy unbuttoning his Hawaiian shirt. Underneath, he had on a dark blue T-shirt.

“So Mike,” he said. “Here’s what I want to ask you now. Do you think you can get us inside Adam’s house so we can give him this present?”

I noticed he had the screwdriver in his hand now, the one I had used to open his door. I looked closer and saw the bent safety pin in the other hand.

“We’re just going to string it up in his bedroom. So when he comes home… Bam! There it’ll be. A special little good-bye from his friends at Milford.”

Who couldn’t actually beat him on the football field, I thought. So this is the best they can do.

“Can you imagine?” Trey said. “He is going to shit his pants.”

“Fucking scholarship to Michigan State,” Brian said. “I know he does steroids. Did you see how much he grew since last year?”

“Oh, like no doubt, man. He’s juicing.”

“I’m not so sure about this,” Danny said. It sounded like he had gotten about half sobered up on the way over here. “It’s breaking and entering, isn’t it?”

“We’re not gonna rob the guy. We’re not gonna do anything . Just leave the banner in his bedroom.”

“I think it’s a bad idea,” Danny said. “I’m just saying.”

Nobody said anything for a minute. I tried to catch Griffin’s eye in the rearview mirror again, but he was staring out his window at the Marshes’ house. In the distance, we could hear the faint sound of the partiers splashing in the pool.

“What about you?” Brian said. “Griffin, right? You’d think I’d remember a fucking name like that. Are you gonna pussy out like Danny? Or are you with us?”

“I’m there,” Griffin said.

Brian turned around and shook Griffin’s hand. “You, sir, are officially no longer an art fag.”

“Thank you, Mr. Wizard. Do I get a diploma like the Tin Man?”

“What?”

“Never mind.”

“Whaddya say?” Brian said, turning back to me. “Are you our man tonight? We can’t do it without you.”

“Do it for the whole school,” Trey said. “It’s our last chance to get this asshole.”

I looked out at the Marshes’ house. The high windows, the perfect lawn. It looked like a castle to me. I couldn’t even imagine living in a house like this.

I opened my door and got out of the car.

“Fuckin’-A,” Brian said.

“I’m staying here,” Danny said. “I’m not going.”

“Yeah, whatever,” Brian said as he closed his door. “We don’t need you.”

So it was the four of us. Brian, Trey, Griffin, and me. Two jocks, two art geeks. The Sucker Punch had almost worn off by now. I was feeling every step with an absolute clarity. We were about to illegally enter somebody else’s house. Somebody I had never even met.

We walked a short way down the street and then slipped behind the fence when we got to it. There were plenty of lights all over the place. Streetlights every hundred feet or so, plus all of the lights that were shining on us from the house across the street. I didn’t know enough yet not to feel exposed. I didn’t know yet that these so-called security lights meant to thwart us were actually our best friends that night. You light up the front of a house, you turn everything else that isn’t directly lighted into a perfect cloak of invisibility. You light up the back of the house, where nobody else can see you anyway, you just make it all that much more convenient for someone trying to break in.

There was a good lock on the back door, but I had it open in two minutes. My three partners all stood there rocking back and forth, looking over their shoulders every few seconds. They didn’t know enough not to be nervous. Nobody had any kind of sight line on us here. We could have set up a net and played volleyball.

When the door was open, we all piled inside. We stood there in the kitchen for a full minute, taking it all in. There was just enough light to see the huge metal stove with the restaurant vent over it. The double refrigerator. The marble countertops that seemed to glow with their own light.

“Fuck,” Brian said. “We’re actually doing this.”

“Let’s go,” Trey said. “Let’s go find his room.”

“I can’t believe this,” Brian said. “This is some heavy duty shit right now.”

“Don’t wuss out, man. Are you coming or not?”

I knew Trey would never dare talk to him that way under any other circumstances. It was my first lesson in how different people react when they find themselves in a situation like this. The guy who did all the talking could suddenly become the one having cold feet. One of the guys along for the ride, he suddenly finds himself getting into it. For whatever reason, he rises to the occasion. Maybe too much. While the other guy along for the ride can’t even get out of the car.

Griffin? I couldn’t tell what he was thinking. He just stood there, not making a sound.

And me? I felt nothing. I swear to you, as soon as we stepped foot into that house, everything drained out of me. That ever present buzz, the constant humming from that one moment in my life, playing out in my head, over and over, becoming like a constant static on my internal radio… As soon as I opened the door to a stranger’s house and stepped inside, the static was gone.

I’d get to know that feeling. Or rather that lack of feeling. I’d get to know it very well. On this night, though, I was just standing there in a rich man’s kitchen while Trey gave Brian a little bump to get him moving forward. Griffin still hadn’t moved.