Iris slowly removed her hand from the small opening in the wall. She turned back to see Mr. Longfellow, a neighbor to 303 Pinkerton Way, holding a gun to Guy’s head. Mr. Longfellow wore no expression. Guy looked the proper amount of concerned for someone with a gun to their head. “Oh, hi, Mr. Longfellow,” Iris said calmly. “What’s up?”
“I should be asking you that,” Mr. Longfellow responded.
Iris shrugged. “Digging my way out of a bad situation. You?”
“Stopping two kids from vandalizing private property.”
“Don’t you have anything better to do?”
Mr. Longfellow raised an eyebrow. “Do you really want to take that tone with me while I have a gun against your friend’s head?”
Iris looked at Guy. “I wouldn’t call him my friend, really. We just met.”
“Thanks, Iris,” Guy grumbled.
Mr. Longfellow sighed. “In any case, do step away from the wall. My ex-wife has already called the police, and it would look better for the both of you if you were not actively participating in vandalism as they arrived.” Iris dusted her hands on her pants and stepped away from the wall. Mr. Longfellow removed the gun from the side of Guy’s head. “Why, thank you,” he said, posing the situation as if Iris had a choice.
“Quick question,” Guy started. “If this isn’t your house, why are you so concerned about us tearing a hole in the wall?”
Mr. Longfellow stared at the pair of teenagers. He said nothing for a precariously long time. Then he simply answered, “I do not appreciate vandalism in my neighborhood.”
Guy’s glance slipped to Iris for a quick moment- the general signal for I don’t trust this. Iris folded her arms at Mr. Longfellow. “How did you even know someone was here?” she asked.
“I saw you go inside.”
“From inside your house?”
“Yes.”
“Were you...spying on the house?”
Mr. Longfellow blinked at Iris. “Sometimes I enjoy looking out specific windows of my home.”
“Wait,” said Guy slowly. “If you saw us, two teenagers who you vaguely recognize, then why would you bring a gun?”
It seemed as if the older man was at a loss for words. Before he could defend his actions, however, a loud crash! echoed throughout the house. Mr. Longfellow’s head snapped around towards the front of the house. “Did you bring somebody else with you?”
“Yes,” said Iris quickly.
Mr. Longfellow frowned. “Are they upstairs?”
“Uh...yeah…” said Guy, only slightly convincing.
Mr. Longfellow sighed loudly. “Damned kids. Wait here, would you? I can’t have somebody trying to jump out of that second story window.” He waved the gun at them as a reminder, snapping the safety back on, and marched away from the teenagers and towards the stairs. Iris listened to him ascend the stairs before pulling Guy close to her by the front of his shirt.
“If he really watched us come inside, he would not have asked if we had a third person,” she whispered. “He’s protecting something that’s inside the wall. He must have heard me punching it.”
“But...he was here before you started punching it,” Guy pointed out. “So maybe not.”
Iris gave him a look. “He’s definitely suspicious. Give me a boost; I want to see what’s inside the wall.”
“Iris-”
“I take back that we’re not friends. Friend, give me a boost before he gets back.”
Guy hesitated. He did not want a gun against his temple again. He did think Mr. Longfellow was acting quite strangely. He bit his lip. Apparently he waited too long, for Iris sighed and pulled herself up to look inside the hole she broke. “You didn’t even need me to lift you!” Guy hissed at her.
“It would have helped! Especially because there’s an urn in here!”
“A...what?”
“AN URN! LIKE, WITH ASHES!” Iris was whispering as loud as she could without drawing unnecessary attention. “As in: a thing that people put human ashes into!” She motioned to him. “Now I need you to lift me! Please! I need to pull this out of here without breaking more of the wall.”
Guy moved over to her and cupped his hands so she could step into them. Quickly and efficiently, she put her arm into the hole the wall, reached around, and grabbed the urn. She then pressed the urn against the inside of the wall and and slid it up towards the hole. Iris used her other hand to grab the urn in its entirety, jumping out of Guy’s hands. She showed it to him. Guy glossed over the inscription: Mabel Longfellow.
“Longfellow?” whispered Guy. “Like...Mr. Longfellow?”
“No, Guy, a different one,” hissed Iris. “Of course it’s him! And if his ex-wife is still alive, that means that-”
“You have found the ashes that belong to my daughter,” said Mr. Longfellow, returning to the room. He now looked mildly angry. He pointed the gun between the two of them and sighed. “Now, unfortunately, I will have to get rid of the two of you. I can’t have witnesses to the only evidence of my daughter’s murder.”
Guy stared at the man with an open mouth, the card labelled Death replaying in his memory. “I told you he was hiding something,” muttered Iris, raising her arms above her head in defeat.
