~3.14~

With great reluctance, Stephen climbed up onto the edge of the roof. He was unable to bring himself to stand on the wide ledge, even when he could see the metal balcony below.

“Coming down?” Michael asked.

“I’m working on it,” Stephen said.

“Well, work a bit faster,” Michael said.

“I didn’t know we were on a schedule,” Stephen said. He lowered his legs over the edge, took a couple of deep breaths, closed his eyes, and slid forward, landing on his hands and knees with a grunt. “Oh, shit,” he said, as Michael helped him up. “I messed up my knee. How exactly do we leave, anyway, if the door’s blocked or whatever?”

“Down the fire escape,” Michael said.

“Why couldn’t we go up it?”

“The ladder doesn’t reach the ground.”

“Fun,” Stephen said. “How do you know so much about it? You been here before?”

“No, I just keep my ears open,” Michael said. “I take note when somebody says something interesting.”

“You writing a book or something?” Stephen asked.

“Or something,” Michael said. “Come on, let’s get inside.”

“Right,” Stephen said sardonically. “Somebody might see us out here and report us as prowlers.”

There was just a crack between the filthy window and the sill, small enough perhaps for child-sized fingers to catch on, but too small for a grown man’s. Michael reached inside his jacket.

“Got a crowbar in there?” Stephen said.

“Not tonight,” Michael said, and he pulled out a hardcover book instead. He slid the back cover of this into the crack and used it to raise the window enough to slide his fingers in. “Now that’s a good book.”

“What is it?” Stephen asked.

“The Wonderful Wizard of Oz,” Michael said.. “Somehow, it seemed appropriate… or else wildly inappropriate. Ah, well. You want to give me a hand?”

“Right,” Stephen said, hurrying forward and getting the window open. “Oh, God, it smells like pee in here.”

“It would,” Michael said, shouldering him aside. “Let’s get inside.”