"Stick around, Marcy. I haven't even started yet. Now unless you want to close your little company before it opens go tell my husband to get the tool ...ox. We'll have him fixed in no time." I don't hear the door open. "Do it, Marcy. Go get Ernest."Earnest. Click. I didn't remember the name Joan but you can't forget a man named Ernest. He was slight, pale man of about 50. Joan was the epitome of a grandmother. Stout, not exactly fat. Glasses and even had her hair in a bun. She looked like the. I mean it." He says this with a little edge to his voice. A very, very serious edge. It's also a little exciting and scary at the same time. I'm so confused! I hear the trunk open, something is clattering around back there, then the trunk closes. I hear nothing, for some time. I am trying very hard now to obey the, "no looking" rule but, as time and silence and darkness progresses, it's getting harder. Finally, my door opens and a cool gust of air hits my bare legs. Jake pokes his head through. More

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