Day Two
July 22, 1952
Tuesday Night
Tuesday night after dark a mean thunderstorm rolled off the Pacific and pounded San Francisco with heavy fists. Waverly and Su-Moon kept their faces down and held tight onto the railing as they climbed the fire escape at the back of Bristol’s building. The city was dark, almost black. They were nothing more than deep shadows in an equally deep world.
At each floor, they tried the exit door.
At each floor, the knob wouldn’t turn.
They climbed to the top, which stopped at the highest occupied floor.
That door was locked too.
Waverly’s heart raced.
She didn’t know whether she’d be able to do the next step.
The wind was fierce.
Her clothes were soaked to the skin and her skin was soaked to the bone. Next to her Su-Moon was fighting to get the rope and grappling hook out of a black bag. The plan, when they talked about it earlier, seemed simple and straightforward-hook the roof parapet then climb up.
Now it didn’t seem so simple.
Now it seemed insane.
Su-Moon coiled the rope loosely and said, “Watch your head in case this comes back down.”
“We should just forget it.”
“It’s too late.”
“We’ll come back tomorrow when the weather’s better.”
“We’re here now.”
The grappling hook wasn’t heavy, five pounds or thereabouts. The rope was half-inch braid, knotted every two feet for grip.
“Here goes.”
She twirled the grappling hook twice then sent it flying at the parapet. It hit the side, two feet short, and tumbled back invisibly, ricocheting off Waverly’s arm.
“Go down a ways until I get this done,” Su-Moon said. “There’s no use both of us being exposed.”
“No.”
“Just do it,” Su-Moon said.
“Let me throw it. You go down.”
“Fine.”
On the third try, Waverly got it hooked on something. She tugged and found it secure.
“Got it.”
True, she had it, but there was a problem. It was off to the side instead of directly above them. She let the rope slacken and found that it fell to the right of the landing. If they lost their grip climbing, the fall wouldn’t be ten or fifteen feet to the landing, it would be all the way to the ground.
“No harm,” Su-Moon said. “I’ll go up first then move it over.”
“Let’s just forget it. I got a bad feeling.”
“We’re fine. Just relax.”
Su-Moon tugged on the rope and then put her full weight on it.
“It seems secure.”
She climbed up on the railing, grabbed the rope just above the highest knot she could reach and said, “It’s slippery.”
“Don’t do it.”
“Just be careful when it’s your turn.”
With that, she shifted her weight off the railing and onto the rope, dangling in the darkness two or three feet to the right of the landing.
Then she climbed.
The wind whipped rain into her face with all the subtlety of a hundred needles.