Home Alone Page 6

  "Which means she won't be here for Christmas," Linnie said. "And neither will Kevin. It won't even be like Christmas."

  "We'll just delay it a little bit," Peter said to reassure her.

  "I think it's a bad idea," Linnie said.

  "But we don't have any choice, sweetheart," Peter said.

  "All I know is families shouldn't be apart on Christmas, no matter how mean they are to each other the rest of the year," Linnie said. "It's not right, Daddy. Us here, them there. Christmas isn't about being in Paris. It's about being together."

  Peter looked up at his daughter in awe. She was right. How come a twelve-year-old understood these things better than he did?

  December 24

  Oak Park

  10 A.M.

  Kevin had a plan for getting his family back. That was why he was pushing a cart through the grocery store. To avoid detection he wore one of Buzz's baseball caps low on his head and the collar of his coat pulled high.

  He picked up a half-gallon of milk and moved on to the bread section, where he squeezed several loaves for freshness.

  "Pushing the cart for mommy?" someone said.

  Kevin turned around and looked up at a middle-aged woman with streaked blonde hair.

  "Yes, ma'am."

  "What a good little helper you are," the woman said. "I'II bet you get lots of swell things from Santa tomorrow morning."

  "You never know," Kevin said. There was only one thing he wanted for Christmas. His family back. The woman Started to push her cart away, but Kevin needed some help.

  "Excuse me," he said. "Could you tell me what the stuff is that you put in the washing machine to make clothes feel as fluffy soft as a kitten and smell as fresh as a springtime breeze?"

  The woman frowned, then smiled. "Oh, you mean fabric softener. It's two aisles over."

  "Thank you," Kevin said. "And have a merry Christmas."

  When Kevin had everything he needed, he pushed his cart up to the checkout counter. A bored-looking older girl was behind the cash register. She looked about Heather's age.

  "Hi," said Kevin. The girl ignored him and started ringing up his stuff. First the milk, then fabric softner, bread, soup, and a microwave macaroni-and-cheese dinner. Kevin picked up a Woman's Day magazine and thumbed through it. He found a recipe for Macafurters.

  "I wish I could use the stove," he said, holding up the magazine for the girl to see. "I'd make some of these Macafurters. They look good, don't they?"

  The girl nodded and rang up a large package of plastic Army men.

  "Uh, for the kids," Kevin said.

  The last item was a half-gallon of orange juice.

  "Hold it," Kevin said, handing her a coupon. "It was in the paper this morning."

  The girl rang up juice minus the coupon. "That'll be nineteen dollars and eighty-three cents."

  Kevin gave her a twenty-dollar bill. "Keep the change," he said.

  December 24

  Oak Park

  2 P.M.

  The van was parked all the way at the end of the Murphys' driveway. From there Harry and Marv could See into the McCallisters' backyard.

  "Looks awful quiet," Harry said.

  "Maybe they're still asleep," said Marv.

  "At two in the afternoon?" Harry asked. "No way. Something ain't right. Last night the place was jumpin'. Now it don't seem like anybody's home. I can't figure it."

  He pushed open the van door.

  "What're you doing?" Marv asked.

  "Wait here," Harry said.

  Inside the house, Kevin was standing at the kitchen sink, doing the dishes. If he was going to get what he wanted for Christmas, he was going to have to be extra, extra good. That's why he went down to the basement before and did all the family laundry. Now he was cleaning the rest of the house.

  Kevin looked outside at the bare brown lawn. He was trying to save all his wish power to bring his family back and didn't want to waste any on a white Christmas. But it sure would be—

  Suddenly Kevin froze. A dish slipped out of his hands and back into the soapy water. To his horror, the guy from the van, the phony policeman, began to emerge from the bushes. Kevin quickly pulled the kitchen curtains closed. He whipped off his rubber gloves and flicked on the VCR.

  Harry stepped softly across the back porch to the kitchen door. He tried to peek in through the curtains. Then he pushed open the doggie door with his foot.

  Inside Kevin held his breath as the doggie door flapped open. His heart started to pound as the kitchen doorknob rattled. He pushed the "play" button on the VCR and the gangster movie went on.

  "All right, Johnny," the thin kid said. "But what about my money?"

  "What money?" snapped the gangster.

  The sudden sound of voices from inside made Harry jump back.

  "Acey said You'd have some dough for me."

  Acey? Harry scowled. He stepped up to the kitchen door and pressed his ear against it.

  "Is that a fact?" the gangster said. "How much do I owe you?" While the gangster movie continued to play on the VCR, Kevin carefully opened a pack of Buzz's firecrackers.

  "I'll tell you what I'm gonna give you, Snakes," the gangster said.

  Snakes? Harry thought.

  "I'm gonna give you to the count of ten to get your ugly, yellow, no-good face off my property before I pump you fulla lead," the gangster snarled.

  Harry's eyes went wide. Inside a frightened voice was saying, "Awright, Johnny. I'm sorry. I'm goin'."

  Kevin lit a match and held the firecrackers over a wastebasket. The gangster was counting.

  "One, two! . . . ten!"

  Kevin lit the pack. The fuse sparked and hissed as the firecrackers fell into the wastebasket.

  Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!

  Harry dove off the back porch and ran across the yard. He jumped into the van and slammed the door. He was panting.

  "What happened?" Marv asked, alarmed.

  "Someone just got blown away in there,"

  Harry gasped. "What!?"

  "Someone beat us to the job," Harry said.

  "They were in there arguing. Then one blew the other away."

  "Do we know 'em?" Marv asked.

  "I don't know," Harry said. "Two guys named Snakes and Acey. I thought I recognized one of the voices."

  "Snakes?" Marv frowned. "I don't know no Snakes."

  "Well, I say we split," Harry said. He started to turn the key in the ignition, but Marv stopped him.

  "Wait a minute," he said, "We better see who it is. We're workin' this neighborhood, too. Suppose we get nailed and the cops try to pin this murder on us. It would help if we could steer 'em to the guilty party."

  "Good thinking," Harry said, taking the key out of the ignition.

  Kevin didn't hear the van leave, but he waited a long time until he was sure it had. Those guys might be grown-ups, but they were pretty easy to fool.

  His thoughts turned back to preparations for Christmas. If Santa was going to bring his family back, he had to have a tree. There was no way he could buy one, but maybe there was one in the backyard he could use.

  In the van, Marv was asleep. Harry was just starting to doze when the kid came out of the house with a saw. He quickly shook Marv's shoulder.

  "It's him!" Harry said. "The kid who looked at me funny. Come on."

  Harry and Marv .slipped out of the van and cut across the Murphys' yard. They hid behind some bushes and watched Kevin cut the top off a short fir tree and carry it back into the house. Then Harry and Marv snuck up to the living room window.

  Inside Kevin put the little tree in the tree stand and started to decorate it. He also put out a glass of milk and a plate of cookies for Santa and some carrots for the reindeer. As he put the carrots under the tree, he happened to glance at the window. His heart almost stopped. One of the bad guys was staring through the glass at him!

  "Dad!" Kevin quickly shouted as loud as he could. "Can you come here and help me!?"

  Outside the window
, Marv quickly pulled Harry back. "Come on! If the kid's there, the parents gotta be!"

  "No." Harry shook his head. "He's home . . . alone. I'm telling you, Marv. We've been scammed by a kid."

  Inside Kevin raced upstairs and got the BB gun. He stopped on the upstairs landing and listened. There was no sound of breaking glass or anyone forcing their way in. Kevin went into Megan's room and looked through the window. The bad guys were standing in the backyard right below him. They were talking. Kevin quietly slid open the window and listened.

  "You can't be serious," Marv was saying, "You want to come back tonight?"

  "You got it," said Harry.

  "Even with the kid here?"

  "Yup."

  "I don't think that's a real bright idea," Marv said.

  "Look," Harry said intensely, "What have I been telling you since we started working this block? This house is the one, the silver tuna. I've wanted it ever since I laid eyes on it. To me this house is the difference between a good Christmas and a bad Christmas. And I ain't had a good Christmas in twenty years."

  "That long?" Marv was shocked.

  "That long," said Harry.

  "Well, I don't want to spoil Christmas for ya," Marv said.

  "Good," Harry said. "So here's what we do. We take off now for awhile, then come back tonight . . . when it's dark. Say around nine o'clock."

  "Yeah," Marv said with a smile. "Kids are scared of the dark."

  Upstairs in the house, Kevin slowly slid the window closed. What was he going to do? How would he stop them?

  "Mom?" he whispered in a trembling voice. "Where are you?"

  December 24

  Logan International Airport

  Boston

  4:30 P.M.

  Kate stood in the aisle of the 747 from Paris. The plane was at the gate. The layover seemed to be taking forever. A stewardess came by and Kate stopped her.

  "Shouldn't we be leaving soon?" Kate asked.

  "There's a snowstorm over the eastern Great Lakes," the stewardess said. "We just heard that they may have to shut down Detroit Airport."

  "What would that mean?" Kate asked.

  "That you'd be having Christmas in Boston," the stewardess replied, and moved on.

  Kate moved back to her seat and wearily pressed her forehead against the seat in front of her. She'd been living on catnaps for nearly three days.

  "Please," she whispered "I didn't come this far to be stopped now. Please!"

  And then, as if someone had heard her, the plane jolted backward from the gate and headed for the runway.

  December 24

  Oak Park

  5 P.M.

  Kevin hurried toward Santa's Village. He'd been so involved in preparing for the "visit" he expected from the robbers that he'd forgotten what time it was. Now he was afraid he'd miss Santa altogether.

  Ahead he saw a woman in an elf's suit locking the door to Santa's hut.

  "Excuse me," Kevin said hastily. "Is he gone?"

  "Santa?" the elf said. "Yeah. We're all done here. Elves gotta celebrate Christmas, too."

  "But it's really important that I speak to him," Kevin said.

  "Well . . ." the elf sighed. "He's around back getting into his car. If you hurry you can catch him."

  Kevin ran around the back of the hut in time to see Santa pull a parking ticket off the windshield of a beat-up old car.

  "How do you like that?" Santa grumbled. "It's Christmas Eve and Santa gets a parking ticket. What's next? Rabies shots for the Easter bunny?"

  "Excuse me," Kevin said. "Can I talk to you for a minute?"

  "If you make it quick," Santa said. "Just because I'm Santa Claus doesn't mean I don't celebrate Christmas, too."

  "Okay, look," Kevin said' "I know you're not the real Santa Claus. . . ."

  "What makes you say that?" Santa asked. "I mean, just out of curiosity."

  "I'm old enough to know how it works," Kevin said.

  "Oh, yeah?" said Santa.

  "Yeah. I know you only work for him," Kevin said. "But do you think you could get him a message?"

  "Sure." Santa smiled.

  "I'm Kevin McCallister and I live over on Rivard Street. Now this is really important. Would you please tell Santa that instead of presents this year I just want my family back?"

  Santa frowned. "I'm not sure I understand."

  "Don't worry," Kevin said. "He'll know. Tell him no toys. Just Peter, Kate, Buzz, Megan, Linnie and Jeff and my cousins and Aunt Leslie . . . and I guess if he has room, Uncle Frank, too. Okay?."

  "I'll see what I can do," Santa said.

  "I really appreciate it," Kevin said, starting to back away. "Sorry to take up your time."

  "Hey, hold on," Santa said, reaching into his pocket. "My elf took the last of the candy canes for her stepkids."

  "That's okay," Kevin said.

  "Don't be silly," said Santa. "Everyone who sees Santa has to get . . . something."

  Santa pulled out a Tic Tac box and shook out two tiny white mints. "Merry Christmas, son. Don't spoil your appetite."

  "Merry Christmas to you, too," Kevin said.

  Kevin started to walk home. The houses on the street near Santa's Village weren't as big or fancy as the houses in his neighborhood, and it seemed like more of them had real live people inside instead of mannequins. Kevin looked in at the families sitting around their tables eating dinner. They looked happy. Outside on the sidewalk Kevin felt like he was the only kid left on earth.

  He turned the corner and started to pass the church. It was all lit up and he could hear a choir singing inside. Kevin knew he had a little time before the crooks came back. He cut across the lawn and pulled open the church doors.

  The church was lit with candles and filled with people. Up front a choir of kids was singing and a man was playing the big organ. Kevin pulled off his hat and pressed it tight against his belly. Some people were standing along the back wall of the church and Kevin stood next to them. For a while he just listened to the music.

  "Beautiful, isn't it?" the man next to Kevin said between songs.

  "Yeah," Kevin said. "For a bunch of kids, they sing really well."

  "Yes, they do," the man smiled.

  Kevin looked up. His eyes went wide and he bit his lip in terror. It was old man Marley!

  "See that little red-haired girl up there?" Marley pointed toward the choir. Kevin wanted to run, but he also wanted to see what Marley was pointing at.

  "She's my granddaughter," Marley said. "About the same age as you. You know her?"

  Kevin shook his head slowly. Old man Marley seemed awful friendly for a snow-shovel murderer.

  "I know you," Marley said. "Live across the street from me, right?"

  Kevin nodded. He was still trembling a little.

  "You don't have to be so scared," Marley chuckled. "All that stuff you hear about me . . . none of it's true. Just the product of someone's overactive imagination. . . . So, have you been a good boy this year?"

  "I . . . I think so," Kevin stammered.

  Marley gave him a look. "You just think so?"

  Kevin had to shake his head.

  "I had a feeling," Marley said. "This is the place to be when you're feeling bad about yourself."

  "It is?" Kevin had never thought of church that way. "Are you feeling bad about yourself?"

  Marley looked surprised. "No, I came to hear my granddaughter sing."

  They both paused to listen to the choir.

  "The truth is, I've been kind of a pain lately," Kevin admitted. "I said things I shouldn't have said and did some stuff, too. It's bothering me because I really like my family even though sometimes I say I don't . . . and sometimes I even think I don't. Do you know what I mean?"

  "Yup," said Marley. "How you feel about your family is a complicated thing."

  "Especially when you have four older brothers and sisters," Kevin said.

  "Deep down you always love them," Marley said. "But sometimes you forget and then you hurt them
and they hurt you."

  "Maybe it's because I'm a kid," Kevin said.

  "Oh, no, I don't think so," said Marley. "Actually, it's the reason I'm here right now, too."

  "It is?" Kevin was surprised.

  "I have to see my granddaughter here because I can't go to her house," Marley said.

  "Why not?" Kevin asked.

  "A few years back I had an argument with my son," Marley said. "He's a grown-up, mind you, but just the same we both lost our tempers and said we never wanted to see each other again. . . . Unfortunately, we've both stuck to it."

  "Why don't you call him?" Kevin asked.

  "Well, I think about it," Marley said, "But I'm afraid he won't talk to me."

  Kevin stared up at his old wrinkled face. "Aren't you too old to be afraid?"

  "You can never be too old to be afraid, son," Marley said.

  Kevin thought for a moment. "I was always afraid of our basement," Kevin said. "It's dark and there's weird stuff down there and it smells funny. But I made myself go down and do some laundry. If you turn on the lights, it's no big deal."

  Marley squinted at him. "Are you trying to tell me something?"

  "Maybe you should call your son," Kevin said.

  "What if he won't talk to me?" Marley asked.

  "At least you'll know and you won't have to be afraid anymore," Kevin said.

  "I don't know," Marley said, but it seemed to Kevin he was considering it.

  "Maybe you should do it for your granddaughter," Kevin said. "I bet she misses you."

  "I sure miss her," Marley sighed. Then he put his hand on Kevin's shoulder. Kevin thought it would feel terrible, but it felt good. "You know, son, it's been nice talking to you."

  "It's been nice talking to you, too," Kevin said. Suddenly he remembered the Crooks.

  "Well, merry Christmas," Kevin said.

  "Merry Christmas to you," said Marley.

  Kevin turned and hurried out of the church. He had a house to defend.

  December 24

  Detroit Metropolitan