Robbers

A few minutes later, she parked in a back alley behind an old building. The windows were all closed and no light was on. It was much too late for such a quiet neighborhood to still be up. Martha, the doorkeeper would probably ear them come in. She never seemed to sleep profoundly. But Norah wasn’t bothered. Martha was a lonely woman in her late fifties, the kind of person who puts good manners above all things. Norah had always shown really good manners. And she always stopped to have a quick chat with the old lady. No one else in the building was so kind, Martha kept telling her. In fact, no other young people ever were so kind. Norah could almost kill somebody, Martha would help her hide the body, and she would still praise her.

“Can you please try not to make any noise as we go up the stairs?” She asked the boy before slipping her key into the front door. He nodded. Whatever.

Norah always tried not to bother her neighbours. You never know when you might need people. So she made as little noise as possible when she was in, always politely said hello, always helped anyone who needed it. Of course not everyone was as fond of her as Martha was. But no one could wish her any harm.
They climbed up the stairs almost silently. The boy thought it was endless and wondered if she actually lived on the roof, but did not say a word. He was a man of his word, or at least he liked to think he was, and he’d agreed not to make a noise. When she finally opened a door and let him into her flat, he turned to her and stared for a second.

“Did Led Zeppelin write Stairway to Heaven after coming to your place?!”
“Probably.” She answered with a smirk and a wink.
“Ew.”

Norah lived in a flat composed of three rooms. When you opened the door, you were in the main room: it had a double bed next to the front door and a small desk with her computer, sheets of paper spread all over it and a bunch of mugs with used tea bags in them. The place was dark and gloomy, much like the pub they had just left, but it was obvious that she had made an effort to make it more welcoming. On the wall in front of the desk were pinned half a dozen movie tickets and post-its with inspirational quotes from obscure indie rock singers. One read: “I’m not afraid of dying alone. I’m afraid of dying without you. I may not know who you are yet, I may have already met you, I may have already lost you. –Stephen Gomez.” On the opposite wall was an enormous poster of some metal band and just above her bed, two post cards: one with Prince William's smiley face, and one with the artwork for the movie No with Gael García Bernal. There were lamps everywhere, two on the desk, one on each side of the bed and one above the book shelf. Evidently she couldn't stand the darkness. The boy noted that the room was small. No more furniture could be stashed in there. In the wall facing the front door – where they were both still standing – were two doors, one for the kitchen and one for the bathroom, Norah explained. That was the tiniest flat he had ever visited. He knew there were smaller places in which students (mostly) had to live, but he’d never seen them. It wasn’t extremely tidy, but it was rather clean.

When his eyes got back to her, he realized she’d been staring at him, frowning. His right eyebrow rose, but he didn’t say a word, just looked back at her with a questioning look in his eyes for a while. After maybe a minute, she stuck her arm out with a bright smile.

“I’m Norah, by the way!”

Oh yeah. He hadn’t asked for her name and hadn’t even thought of giving her his. Then again he was still sort of hoping none of this was real and that she’d suddenly just disappear as he woke up or something.

“Louis.” He said, shaking her hand and she smiled. And it was one of those smiles that hides something. Her eyes shone, and only half of her mouth was actually up. Louis thought she was a bit strange and for a second he wondered what he’d gotten himself into. But it was too late now. And if he wanted to defy society and live by his own rules, then maybe he needed someone like her, someone that was a bit bonkers, that took life-changing decisions in less than four seconds and invited a complete stranger – and now apparently a robber – into her flat.

They were both exhausted and as soon as their heads met a pillow they were fast asleep. But it wasn’t even thirty minute before Norah’s phone rang. She’d just received a text. It was Martha.

*Cops looking 4 u leave now*

She jumped out of bed, grabbing Louis’ arm on her way out of the covers to wake him up. She flew across the room and in two minutes she had a bag filled with clothes and food in each hand.

“Get the fuck up,” she whispered “we gotta go.”

The policemen’s boots were making a din in the stairs. They were still on the first floor but Louis heard them like they were on the other side of the door. He stared at Norah with fear in his eyes. With a sigh, she grabbed his clothes, took his hand and ran to the other side of the room, hopped onto the desk, opened the window and jumped out. She landed on the emergency stairway and motioned him to come join her. Luckily, no one seemed to be waiting for them down in the street. They ran down the stairs in complete silence. When you’re really, really scared, this amazing thing happens and your five senses are enhanced. You become superhuman because there’s so much adrenaline running through your body. That’s what Louis experienced at that very moment, and that’s what enabled him to run so fast and yet make no sound at all. Norah was also very silent, but he assumed it was because she was naturally gracious and fast. She seemed to be anyway. In less than a minute they were sat in the car, Norah behind the wheel and Louis paralyzed with fear on the passenger seat. For a second, the girl wondered if turning on the engine would make such a loud sound that they would be heard and discovered straight away. But they had no time, they needed to go, or else the policemen would find the window open, understand they had taken the emergency stairway and follow them down. If they were still in the car by then, they would no doubt be found. So she turned on the engine but left the lights off and drove away as silently as Louis’ old car permitted it.

Notes