Free Rattled by Lisa Harrington

unrolled the blanket, which was a solid blue on the outside with tiny blue bunnies on the other side. What I found inside was a silver rattle, one of those ones that look like a miniature dumbbell. I took out the other blanket. Pink on the outside, same pink bunnies on the inside, same silver rattle.
    I sat there on the floor for a minute, arms crossed. I was kind of surprised. Mrs. Swicker didn’t strike me as the sentimental type. Baby stuff was the last thing I expected to find.
    A blanket in each hand, I twirled around the furnace room doing my best impression of a rhythmic gymnast performing an Olympic gold medal ribbon routine. Satisfied they were dry enough, I knelt to re-roll them and pack them away in the exact way I had found them. I picked up the rattle that had been inside the pink blanket. I could feel engraving under my fingers. Holding it up close to my face I read, Amy Elizabeth, July 1, 1994.
    I frowned. Amy Elizabeth? Who the heck was that? It was at that moment I heard a noise. The furnace room was next to the garage. I could hear a car engine in the driveway. My heart jumped into my throat and I felt the air being sucked out of my lungs. They must be back early! They weren’t supposed to be back until later! Frantically I bundled everything up as best I could, pressed down the tape, put the box back, jammed the wet paper towel in my pocket, and tore back up the stairs. I slid across the floor, as if I were sliding into home base, and came to a stop by Peter and his bowl of Meow Mix just as the Swickers walked in the door.
    â€œHi!” I blurted. I could feel the sweat trickling down my back. My heart was beating so loudly, I could swear they must have been able to hear it.
    Mrs. Swicker stood in the doorway looking down at me, a startled expression on her face.
    â€œI just got here,” I explained, my voice unnaturally loud. “Peter seemed lonely, I thought I should stay with him for a few minutes, pet him, talk to him, that kind of thing.” I knew I was rambling.
    Suspicion was written all over Mrs. Swicker’s face. “I couldn’t figure out why the door was unlocked,” she said slowly.
    â€œJust little ol’ me.” I swallowed nervously and stood up. “Everything’s fine here, just fine.”
    Megan stepped around Mrs. Swicker and scooped up Peter. “Did you miss us, boy? Thanks again, Lydia.”
    â€œOh it was fine, everything’s just fine,” I squeaked. I had to get out of there. “Okay, well…see ya tomorrow.” I squeezed between Mrs. Swicker and Sam and rushed out the door. I was in such a hurry, I almost didn’t notice how cute Sam looked with his new haircut.

Chapter 12
    M y heart was still racing when I got back home. I went directly to the bathroom and closed the door behind me. Sitting on the edge of the tub, I nervously rocked back and forth waiting for my breathing to return to normal. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to remember if I had turned off the light in the furnace room. Mom had us trained so well, I was hoping I’d done it instinctively. I just couldn’t remember.
    Mrs. Swicker was barely civil to me now . I couldn’t imagine how she’d treat me if she suspected me of going through her stuff. If she noticed the light was on, if she saw the box, she’d be able to tell right away. Ohmygod! Then she’d tell Mom, and take it from there…the possibilities were endless, and none of them good.
    If this whole thing blew up, I had to have a plan, a reason why I had been down there. The truth? Always an option, I suppose. Think. I just needed a couple minutes to think, and I did some of my best thinking in the bathroom. It was a result of Mom’s unconventional (I prefer the word twisted ) approach to parenting. Whenever Jilly or I would get in trouble, the kind of trouble when most parents would send their kid to their room, Mom sent us to the bathroom. “It’s no