Across a room, a light shined beneath a bedroom door, and head on a pillow, Gloria gazed at it. Suddenly, outside the door, footsteps thumped, and beneath the door, a shadow blocked the light. Gloria’s eyes snapped shut, and the bedroom door creaked open.
“Well, what do you know,” a man’s voice said. “My little girl’s in bed, and I didn’t even have to tuck her in. Guess she’s growing up faster than I’d thought. Sweet dreams.”
The door closed, and Gloria’s eyes popped open, and she peered at the door. Before long, the light vanished, and she sprang onto a hardwood floor.
THUMP!!
She cringed and then peered at the door.
No one came.
“I’d waited for dad to head to bed so long I’d forgotten I’d put shoes on,” she said, kneeled, and tightened their strings. She straightened her slacks and sweater and the peered at the closet. “Okay, here we go.” She dashed to the closet, snatched an umbrella, and walked it to a window-filled double door and held it in the moonlight. “If I leave via this terrace, dad wouldn’t suspect a thing. Now, what were the words the woman used?” She stared at the umbrella. “She’d said something to you, but I just don’t remember.” She turned it about. “Oh, what did the woman say?” Suddenly, she heard a whisper, and she wheeled toward the door. Beneath it, all was dark. “Goodness,” she said. “Is dad there? I thought he’d gone to bed.” She crept to the door and pressed an ear against it.
Nothing.
“Sounds like dad’s gone to bed alright.”
Out of the blue, over her shoulder, she heard a word, and spun around. Her eyes scanned the shadowy room. Bed. Terrace double door. Closet. Dresser. No one stood there.
She poked her chest out. “Whoever you are, my dad’s in the next room, and if you don’t want me to get him, I order you to—”
“Sto…”
Her eyes shot to the terrace double door.
“What’s that you said?” She inched toward the door. “Go on, speak up.” She crept to the door and peaked out a window. Moon rays slanted throughout the terrace, but no one stood there. She turned toward the shadowy room. “Where are you?”
“Sto…”
Her eyes fell to her feet.
The umbrella.
She picked it up and put an ear to it.
“Stolen,” the umbrella said.
She shrieked, dropped the umbrella, and leapt on her bed. “Is this real? No way you can speak?”
“Stolen.”
Across the room, beneath the door, a light snapped on, and footsteps approached, and she shuddered.
“Goodness,” she said. “Dad’s coming.” She plunged underneath bedsheets, threw her head on a pillow, and slapped her eyes shut.
“Stolen.”
She cringed. “Quiet.”
The umbrella repeated itself.
She gritted her teeth, sat partway up, and glared at the umbrella. “My dad’s coming,” she said. “Do you want me to get into trouble.”
“Stolen…stolen.”
Outside the door, footsteps thumped louder.
She sighed, threw away sheets, and dashed to the umbrella. She snatched it, dove in the bed, and snatched the sheets over them both.
“Stolen…stolen.”
She rolled her eyes. “Look, umbrella, I know you’re stolen, but saying it aloud won’t help you now.”
The umbrella repeated itself.
“Please hush, umbrella, you’re going to get me in a lot of t—”
“Gloria?” her dad outside the door. “Is everything okay?”
“Stolen…stolen.”
“Shush!” she said.
“Gloria,” her dad said. “I’m coming in.” The door knob turned.
“Stolen…stolen.”
She sighed. “Okay, umbrella, I’ll return you!”
“Stolen…st—”
The door opened, and her dad marched to her bed.
“Gloria,” he said. “What’s the matter.”
Eyes closed, Gloria shook her head, this-way-and-that, on her pillow. “I’ll return you,” she said. “I’ll return you.”
Her father shook her. “Gloria,” he said. “Gloria, wake up.”
Gloria forced a shudder and then popped her eyes open. “Dad?” she said. “What’s going on?”
“You were dreaming…so loudly, in fact, I could hear you in my room.”
“My apologies, dad. Must have been that novel I’d read.”
“What novel?”
“Oh, umm, the one I’d read about shopping. Yeah, the protagonist spent a lot of money at a sale and when she arrived home all the merchandise was broken and she was dead-set on returning it all.”
Dad’s forehead wrinkled. “Okay, well, do your best to dream a bit quieter, your little sister’s down the hall and we don’t want to wake her.” He smiled, and Gloria did, as well.
“Okay, dad.”
He kissed her forehead, ambled to the door, and closed it behind him, and footsteps thumped away, and light beneath her door snapped out.
She threw bedsheets away, hauled the umbrella before the terrace doors, and sighed. “That was close. You really wanted me to get into trouble, didn’t you?”
The umbrella was silent.
“Oh, now you chose not to speak.” She gazed at it and then sighed. “Umbrella, I apologize. Once the magic shop phone rang and the magician lady went to go answer it, I shouldn’t have taken you. But because the lady had convinced me you’d do anything I kid asked, I just had to see for myself. But I’d only wanted to borrow you—I’d always planned to take you back; and tomorrow, I plan to do just that. Nonetheless, I understand if you don’t want to speak to me.” She glanced at the closet. “Okay, till morning when the magic shop reopened, back inside the closet you go.” She carried toward the closet.
“Art.”
She halted. “Umbrella, what did you say?”
“Art.”
“Art?” She turned toward a table in a corner. Atop it, a posterboard clammed with photos laid. She ambled to it. “Art, indeed! For my last birthday, dad bought me a digital camera and printer. So, since then, I’ve been taking pictures, printing them, and gluing them to posterboards as photo collages. See, this board’s a family collage because each photo’s a family member.” Her eyes lowered. “But I promised myself I’d make some friends one day so I could make a friendship collage.” She forced a smile. “Yes, one day, I’d love to do that. Then, I’d hang it and my other collages and drawings all over my bedroom walls so that my room resumes an art museum! I just love art museums! Don’t you—?”
The umbrella snatched her to the double door.
“Whoa!?” she said. “What’s with you?”
The umbrella pulled her closer to the door.
“Outside?” she said. “You want to head outside? If you do, you can just say it, you know?”
“Surprise.”
Her eyes lit up. “Surprise?? I love surprises!! What is it??”
The umbrella tapped the door.
“So, we have to head outside to get it.” She checked a clock on a nightstand and peeked at the bedroom door. “Okay, so long as we’re not away too long. Let me grab a coat.” She lent the umbrella against the door, snatched on a coat and hat, and dashed back to the door and then seized the umbrella. “Okay, I’m ready.”
“Lift,” the umbrella said, and handle in hand, she aimed the umbrella’s pointed end toward the ceiling. Suddenly however, the umbrella popped open, and golden snowflakes drifted down from inside the umbrella upon her head and shoulders.
“Wow,” she said, slipped out the double door, and ambled to the terrace’s center. “Okay, umbrella, now what?”
“Tight.”
“Okay,” she said and gripped the umbrella handle with both hands. “But why? Tonight, wind isn’t all that—”
Suddenly, the umbrella rocketed skyward, and she along with it.
“Whooooa!”