Chapter 8 #4
“You’re saying you abandoned Lil Screw and jazz-funk because you didn’t want to miss out on—” Amie paused, deciding it was probably not the best idea to say “me breaking into my landlord’s apartment” while still in such close proximity to said apartment.
“On the mystery, yeah,” Ziya finished. “I don’t even like Lil Screw, anyway. I knew the real action was with you two.”
“Hopefully that won’t be true.” Amie had reached the end of the balcony.
Logically, she knew this gap couldn’t be any wider than the last one, and yet it somehow seemed to stretch out farther than she could possibly reach.
“I think I’m gonna call it here, you guys.
I live on this balcony now. Feel free to visit any time. ”
There was a brief scuffle from below. Ziya and David appeared on the narrow side of David’s balcony, looking up at her. Now that Amie was closer, she could see the glittery eyeshadow on Ziya’s lids winking at her as she gazed up at Amie.
“Look at you! You’re so close!” Ziya held her arms out over the railing. “I could literally catch you if you fell.”
“I don’t think that’s true,” Amie said weakly, clinging to the railing.
“Well, David could catch you.”
“I don’t think that’s true,” David echoed.
“Oh my god, I’m surrounded by pessimists.”
The words “I prefer ‘realist’ ” died in Amie’s throat as she looked down at the ground, which had somehow remained the same terrifying distance from her as every other time she’d looked at it.
“Come on, Amie.” Ziya crossed her arms, her tone growing serious. “Be a big girl and climb the railing.”
“I can’t.” Like a tongue to cold metal, Amie felt her arms fusing with the railing. “I can’t do it.”
“I have some rope,” David offered. “It’s not very strong, but …”
“Amie,” Ziya said, “if you come down, I’ll tell you why I really came.”
Interest piqued, Amie peered over the railing. “Why?”
“Come down and I’ll tell you.”
“No, tell me first.”
“Get down here safely, and then—”
“Oh my god!” David burst out. “Just do it at the same time! The mosquitos are eating me alive. Let’s keep this moving, please!”
Amie and Ziya looked at each other.
“Fine.”
“Fine.”
Amie took a deep breath, then pulled her leg up over the rail. She paused, giving Ziya a pointed look that read, Now your turn.
“Okay.” Ziya sighed. “So … after we broke up—”
“Oh, this sounds personal.” David covered his ears and turned away. “Let me know when you’re done. Or if she falls. Whichever comes first.” Despite his words, Amie saw him keeping her in his peripheral vision as she continued easing over the rail.
“After we broke up,” Ziya repeated, speaking slowly, “I just started saying yes to everything. My schedule was packed. Like, think of the most random thing that you’ve made fun of me for doing, and I probably did something even weirder than that.”
“Like what?” Amie asked, her voice strained. She’d managed to pull her other leg over the rail, and was working herself up to face the next balcony.
“Like … I dragged my friends to this art show where all the frames were empty. And you were supposed to read the description of each piece and then stare at the empty frame and imagine what the piece would look like based on its description.”
Amie, who didn’t like to judge other people’s definitions of art, said, “That sounds kind of interesting.”
“It had a thirty-dollar admission fee.”
“Not that interesting.” Amie successfully transferred her right hand and flattened her back against the railing.
“Oh, and tarantula yoga.” There was a shudder in Ziya’s voice as she remembered. “That was … rough. Didn’t think white people could misappropriate yoga more than they already have, but they figured out a way.”
She paused. “The spiders sucked, too. Anyway, it got to the point where I’d start double booking stuff just because I was worried someone might cancel and I’d be left without plans.
” There was a snort of self-deprecation.
“My friends started getting pissed. Because of the double bookings, and the ridiculous admission prices. And the tarantulas. Come on, don’t stop now, big step. ”
“I feel like you’re just saying stuff to distract me.” Amie’s vision wobbled as she pressed her back to the railing. “Are you going anywhere with this?”
“Oh my god, okay. Basically, I was burning myself out and didn’t know how to stop. It felt like my brain was blasting sped up over-compressed hyperpop twenty-four seven. My friends literally held an intervention that was just them forcing me to do an evening of self-care at home.”
“That was nice of them.” Amie unlatched her right hand and leaned forward, grabbing onto the next railing.
“Yeah, they’re great, I love them to death. And then you and I had our incredibly drawn-out date—”
“Friend date,” Amie said through gritted teeth, taking care not to look down as she stepped over the gap.
“And the whole time my brain was just … quiet.”
Following her strategy from last time, Amie brought over her left hand and foot before she had the chance to freeze. She clutched the railing, breathing heavily.
“You did it!” Ziya cheered. “Now we just have to get you down …”
Who’s to say why the bird chose that moment to dive-bomb Amie?
It’s possible it spotted one of the many mosquitoes David had been complaining about, hovering right by her head.
Or perhaps it mistook her for a baby bird, reluctant to take her first leap out of the nest and in need of a push.
Or maybe it had watched the entirety of Amie’s precarious journey across the balconies and was disappointed that the most dramatic moment was when her ex-girlfriend not-so-subtly implied that Amie brought a calmness to her life that she had yet to find an equal replacement for.
Be it a natural predatory instinct or an incapacity to comprehend the nuances of human emotions (specifically those of the sapphic variety), a bird chose that moment to dive-bomb Amie.
Ultimately, it was Amie’s anxiety-induced grip on the railing that saved her from plummeting to the ground. Even the sudden appearance of an animal zipping past her head wasn’t enough to startle her out of letting go of the rail.
Her feet were another story. Instinct taking over, Amie stumbled back onto nothing but empty air, and gravity rudely refused to make an exception. (It didn’t seem like a big ask, considering how time had been able to do it, but alas.)
Amie’s body, now anchored only by her hands on the railing, crashed into the balcony. The cement floor slammed into her stomach, knocking the wind out of her. Through the loud ringing in her ears, she could hear Ziya and David making various noises of alarm from below. A hand grabbed her ankle.
“You have to slide down,” came Ziya’s frantic voice. “You need to get lower so David can grab you.”
Amie could only manage a hybrid groan/whine in response. The railing gave its own groan/whine in turn as it struggled against the weight of something heavier than its usual burden of damp laundry.
“Now, Amie. Come on.”
Hearing in Ziya’s voice that she was about five seconds away from attempting to climb up and bring Amie down herself, Amie managed to gasp out, “Okay!”
With great difficulty (and while keeping an eye out for any more avian interference), Amie shifted her hands from the horizontal rail onto two of the vertical rails. She painstakingly began lessening and reapplying pressure to her grip, allowing her body to steadily lose altitude.
Just as the painful burn on her hands was becoming too much to bear, she felt arms wrap around her legs. She hadn’t even realized her eyes were shut until she heard Ziya’s voice say, “Let go. He’s got you, let go.”
Keeping her eyes closed, Amie obeyed the command. She felt herself get pulled down and deposited into a smaller pair of arms.
“Holy shit,” Ziya said into her ear. “Oh, we’re going down, okay, careful.”
Despite having done very little work in the past minute, Amie’s legs had decided to clock out early for the day.
As her knees buckled, Amie felt herself being eased into a sitting position on the floor of David’s balcony.
She slumped into the arms wrapped tightly around her, cheek pressing against a warm collarbone.
“Look at you, daredevil,” Ziya murmured. Amie could hear her heart sprinting. “Who are you, and what did you do with my Amie?”
A weak “ahh” was all the commentary Amie could muster.
“Are you okay? Give me one ahh for ‘yes,’ two ahhs for ‘no.’ ”
“I’m okay,” Amie said. After a few seconds, she added, “Was that the kind of action you were hoping for?”
“Honestly, I was just looking for something quiet.” Ziya’s voice vibrated against Amie’s cheek and through the rest of her body, soothing Amie’s jittering nerves. Both their heartbeats were slowing, matching each other’s pace. “This is pretty nice.”
“It is.”
Gentle fingers skimmed across Amie’s forearm in a comforting caress, sending sparks through Amie’s body. The hand suddenly dropped as the door to the balcony slid open, then shut again. A glass of water appeared next to Amie’s face.
“What’s that?” She reluctantly pulled out of Ziya’s embrace to look up at David. She hadn’t even noticed him leaving the balcony.
“It’s water. Did you hit your head?”
“I’m not thirsty.”
“She’s not thirsty.” Exasperated, David straightened. “Well, that went terribly.”
Amie reached for the glass. “Okay, I’ll drink it.”
“Not that.” David pulled the glass away, as if he didn’t want her pity acceptance of the beverage. “Your infiltration plan.”
“My plan?” Amie exclaimed, dismayed. “That was your plan!”
David pointed up at the balconies Amie had just scaled across. “Spider-Amie wasn’t anywhere in my plan.”
“You were supposed to give me ten minutes! What happened to my ten minutes?”
“This one”—David pointed accusingly at Ziya—“distracted me with the doorbell. When—”
“You know the name tag next to your apartment number says ‘Garfield’?” Ziya interrupted. “I almost didn’t ring the bell.”
“Good, that is by design,” David answered. “I don’t need strangers on the street knowing my apartment number and my last name.”
“Only that he really hates Mondays,” Amie deadpanned.
“Oh, great, a clever quip. At least we know you’re probably not concussed.” David gestured to Ziya again. “When I went to buzz her up, Benny finished with the traps and slipped past me.”
“Well, you did a really good job keeping him occupied in his apartment while I figured out my escape plan,” Amie said gratefully. “So thank you for that.”
“Eh.” David waved a hand dismissively, his curmudgeon act losing steam after being shown genuine appreciation. “Glad you’re safe, kid.”
The trio migrated inside.
“That might not have been a complete waste of time,” Amie said, settling onto the couch. “I heard Benny leaving a message for his ex-girlfriend when I was hiding under the bed. I think I might’ve met her on Monday.”
“And met her and met her and met her?” David asked from the kitchen.
Ziya looked at David with a curious expression, like she couldn’t determine if he was joking or not.
“I think she was on her way to Benny’s,” Amie continued, ignoring the question. “I also found this.”
She began extracting the pieces of paper from her pocket, placing them down on David’s coffee table. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Ziya stand and walk over, moving a plastic container of Matchbox cars off the table and onto the floor to make room.
“These were in Benny’s wastebasket,” Amie explained, once again putting the pieces together photo-side up.
“At first I thought it was him and his girlfriend, but then I heard him mention Hallie on the phone, and this isn’t Hallie.
At least, not the one I know. His ex-girlfriend could be a different Hallie, but—”
“Seems like too much of a coincidence,” Ziya finished. She made to return to her seat, but David had slipped past her and commandeered the chair.
“I need to tape these together,” Amie murmured as Ziya sat down next to her.
“Here.” David reached over the arm of his chair, grabbing a small cardboard box. He fished out a roll of tape and tossed it to Amie.
“Thanks.” With Ziya’s help, she began taping the pieces together.
“Do you think she’s the other woman?” David suggested. “Maybe Hallie found the photo and ripped it up out of anger.”
“That’s what I’m thinking,” Amie agreed, accepting a piece of tape that Ziya handed to her.
“When I saw Benny on Monday night, he said his girlfriend had just broken up with him. Hallie had told me just a few hours before then that she was on her way to her boyfriend’s place to surprise him with dinner. ”
“So that’s probably when she caught him cheating!” Ziya exclaimed as Amie taped together the last two pieces.
“This is all very interesting,” David said, leaning back in his chair.
“I’m sure Elena would be thrilled by this gossip.
But Amie went in there looking for something that might explain why Benny was in the Harlows’ apartment, or at least something that might show that he had a motive for killing Savannah.
I hate to be a killjoy, but based on all of this, the only thing Benny seems guilty of is being an asshole. And we already knew that.”
Amie had flipped over the mended paper, revealing the message printed on the opposite side.
“There might be more to Benny than we thought,” she said, scanning the note as Ziya scooched closer. David stood and circled the couch to read the message over their shoulders:
Benny—
I haven’t forgotten about you. Here’s something to motivate you to keep our arrangement going, or this and the other photos will be sent to Hallie. And keep an eye on your mailbox—the terms may be changing soon.