GIRL, UNPLUGGED
YA Novel Chapter 13 | 9 Minute Read
This is Chapter 13 of a YA novel. To see where the story began, check out the GIRL, UNPLUGGED table of contents post, or head to the GIRL, UNPLUGGED section of the Story Hoarder Substack page to see all the chapters.
This chapter is a 9 minute read.
CHAPTER 13: Secret Closet
“Girl. You know you’ll go blind like that, don’t you?” Princess’s voice echoed in the stairwell and scared me to my bones. I slammed the notebook shut and almost threw the pen from my hand. Thankfully, she didn’t seem to notice. “There’s plenty of light in the lobby with all those damn windows if you must write — and Lord knows our Talia needs her tales! But you’re gonna help me first.” Princess was walking into an even darker corner behind the stairs, a space I hadn’t noticed before.
“What are you doing?” I asked while shoving the notebook and pen into my backpack.
“You ever heard about ‘Night at the Museum’ — that sleepover thing?”
“Of course!” I said. Adding, “Yeah,” hoping I didn’t sound too excited at the mention of the event. Ever since I found out about the "Night at the Museum" sleepovers when I was in middle school, I begged my mother to take me. It was always a no-go. "It's too expensive!" mom said. Her argument was that it was not fair unless both my brother and I could go, and that simply made it way too expensive to consider. Amy tried asking her mom, but she didn't take her seriously at all. It was a long-held fantasy of mine to sleep in that lobby, under the dinosaur bones and dream of all of the adventures one could have if only something would come alive, just like it was the movie, Night at the Museum.
“Well, I found something on Val’s desk about them.” Princess walked in the darkness sliding her hands along the wall beneath the stairs. “There should be a closet around here somewhere — I could really use a damn flashlight about now — that has all the supplies.”
This seemed completely out of character for the tough-chick, seen more of the world than me, more grown up than me, Princess that I thought I knew. When I was young and dumb I believed in things like a museum sleepovers being fun and exciting opportunities for fantasy to come to life. Now I realized that the Night at the Museum was some organized event with rules and learning and probably some super-early bedtime. It might be nice to see how it all went down, but I didn’t see how Princess had decided this was the best time for that. I mean, I knew hanging out in this museum with nowhere to go at the moment must have been boring for someone who wasn’t just gifted a notebook full of blank pages just begging to be written in, but exploring darkened corners looking for a supply closet seemed like a level of desperation that approached entirely too soon. So I asked, “Ooo-kay, but why do we need to find it?”
Princess stopped her search. She whispered, but it felt like she wanted to yell. “We gotta help that girl, Natalie. She said she needs to lie down. Those fools out there are trying to lay her down on the floor! On the floor! I mean, come on! You’d think not a single one of them ever had to take care of someone in pain!” There’s the Princess I knew — swearing we all had the same life experience as her and, as a result, we should all know better.
“I don’t think I have,” I admitted to her. “I mean, at least, not alone. My mom was always around whenever my grandma got really sick so, you know, I was more like an order-follower.”
Princess exhaled. “Yeah, well, then I guess you’re perfect right now. I’m ordering you to help me find this closet so we can get the girl a damn cot.” She turned and continued talking, but I wasn’t sure it was to me, or just utterances for the darkness to swallow up. “I look at that girl and I see my grandma and I can’t even imagine trying to lie that woman on the floor when she had the real bad days. It’s unbelievable!”
I squinted in the shadows, now that my eyes had adjusted I could make out some of the details it hid. “In the corner!” I pointed to what looked like something that could have been a door knob. “Is that it?”
Princess swept over and pulled. I heard the manic click-click of the knob being turned back and forth more times than was necessary to open it. “It’s locked,” she said quietly.
“You don’t have the key?” I asked.
Princess turned on me and I immediately regretted asking the question. This was not a girl I ever wanted to piss off. “Why would I—“ Mid-way through her obvious path to ripping me a new one, she realized what I was thinking. The same desk where she found the info about the closet probably contained the keys to the closet. She ran off and I waited. I’m not sure why. I didn’t know what to do with myself. Princess had given me a tiny purpose — to help her get this cot out — so I waited for her so I could do just that.
I thought about what Princess said, about us never having to care for someone in pain and I realized she was right, we were wildly unqualified to take on Rose’s care. She really did need to see a doctor. Why didn’t Murph remember that she needed help? I had gotten so annoyed about him leaving me behind that I forgot what his truest crime was — leaving Rose behind. As much as Daria had shouted it at me, it didn’t become real until that moment. She was right to ask about him leaving her. Now I had the same question. And Princess was right too, Rose was our responsibility now. We needed to take that seriously. I didn’t know what that meant yet, but I knew that I wouldn’t make the same mistake Murph made. I would help Rose find the help she needed to get home, or to a doctor, or to get into a damn cot instead of the floor if she needed to rest.
When Princess came back with the keys she had brought Terrell and Colin with her. I didn’t think getting a cot required four people, but maybe they were bored too. It took some fiddling with a whole ring of keys to find the right one, but the door finally opened and revealed an even darker cavern before us. No one took a step forward. “You know where the cot is?” Terrell asked before making a move.
Colin didn’t give her a chance to answer. “Move out of my way, you big chicken!” he said pulling on Terrell’s shoulder to pass him.
“What?” Terrell said, following him in. “Doesn’t make sense to go in blind if we have more information!”
Princess and I followed behind, laughing at the two of them going back and forth. All four of us were inside and not bumping into each other or any types of shelves. The closet didn’t feel like a closet at all, it felt more like a room. Maybe in museums closets have to be this big, but I know that if my mother ever had a closet with this much walking space in it, her crafting hobby would reach uncontrollable levels and my dad would have to forward his paycheck to Michaels, the arts and crafts store.
I walked slowly, holding my hands out in front of me because there wasn’t any eye adjustment going on in here, just blindness. It smelled stuffy, but clean, not like an old attic or anything, more like the room Rog and I always stayed in at our Aunt’s house. She had a separate room just for people to visit. She couldn’t have visitors all the time, so what did that room do the rest of its days? It was weird. Anyway, that was this room/closet thing. I guess people came in to visit — to take stuff out and put stuff in — but for the most part it stayed empty. Maybe it was Val’s job to keep it clean. I was frustrated not being able to know more about the room because of my lack of vision. I walked straight until I couldn’t walk anymore and felt something cool in front of me. I bravely slid my hand to the side and felt a change in texture and temperature. The thing in front of me was either another door or a window, I decided. I groped down and up and finally felt a latch above my head. I turned it, then pushed up the window and — BAM — blinding light in my face paired with a warm breeze pulling in some dust or dirt that lived on the outside of the windowsill.
“Whoa!” Terrell said from somewhere over on my left.
“Nice one!” said Princess next to me.
“Thank. You,” Colin said from somewhere deeper within. Followed by, “Cots!”
“I got glow sticks!” Terrell said.
“Space blankets?” Princess asked. “Is everything in here labeled?”
I turned and saw an organizer’s dream space. Someone in this museum had a serious obsession with everything being in its rightful place. Someone in this museum would have an instant heart attack if they ever set foot into my bedroom. The room wasn’t huge and could rightfully be called a closet due to its size, but it was organized with an open space in the middle that made it feel airy and livable. Three of the walls were lined with shelves all containing labeled clear plastic boxes. I saw the bin labeled “space blankets” next to Princess and, of course, they were all folded neatly into small silver rectangles within. Terrell’s bin of glow sticks looked as though they had been bundled in pre-counted batches, each with a rubber band holding them together. Colin was standing by the far wall which, instead of shelving, had a stack of cots, folded and laying on top of one another. And — as if it were not clear to anyone looking on — there was a clearly printed sign on the wall next to each stack declaring, “COTS.”
“Wow,” I said.
“Yeah. It reminds me of Miss V’s art room,” Colin said.
“You take Art?” Terrell asked.
“What? Of course I do! How am I ever supposed to perfect my skills?”
“She let’s you tag?” Terrell seemed genuinely interested. I was just confused that Miss V’s room was neat. After looking in Murph’s bag I assumed all artists were a hot mess. Wasn’t that a thing? Like the messier you are, the more creative you are?
“It’s called street art, Terr, and it is all the rage. Miss V has even had me present photos of some of my stuff to the class!” Colin’s pride was palpable. I knew he was into graffiti and stuff, but I have to admit I was just as surprised as Terrell to hear that anything he did was school approved. “I’m even working on a piece to put on the back wall of her classroom.” He then turned and looked at the wall above the cots. “In fact, I could really spruce this place up, if they’d let me.”
“Don’t,” Princess had her hand on his shoulder before she even finished her sentence, “get any ideas. Just pick up that cot and get moving!” She turned her wide eyes at me as if silently saying, “Can you believe this boy?” And I laughed, shaking my head and shrugging.
Terrell jumped to Colin’s side saying, “We should take a couple out there for everyone to sit on, so we don’t mess up the exhibits and stuff. Who knows how long we’ll be here.”
What? Were we getting comfortable now? I looked at Princess hoping for another shared look of disbelief, but found her smiling at Terrell, “Good idea, Terr.”
Whoa. What was that look? I think Princess liked Terrell. That girl never let her guard down and I just saw a sweetness in her eyes that I didn’t know existed. I knew second guessing his suggestion would get me nowhere fast, so I tried a different tactic instead.
“I — uh — wasn’t out there, you know, so were we —like, uh — given instructions to —like, um, I don’t know — wait for someone or something?”
You know what I hate? I hate when you are nervous about talking at all and your brain thinks that the best plan of action is to make you stutter all the way through so that the whole damn thing lasts even longer.
What.
Is.
That?
Princess turned toward me. “What?”
Oh god, really? Do I have to say it all again?
“I just — um — it’s like we’re staying if we take those out. Are we? Staying?” I stared at the cots all the way through.
It was quiet. The boys had stopped moving and no one said anything. I braved the reality around me and looked up at Princess. She was looking from Terrell to Colin and they looked back and forth. It was a silly game of mental pinball, each one of them bumping off my question and rocketing toward the other. I watched it go back and forth, back and forth, until all six of their eyes landed back on me.
Right. No one knows.
“You know what?” I said, desperate to break the silence and get everyone off the hook — especially me, “whatever. Let’s get Rose that cot before they lay her out on this miserable floor. One thing at a time.”
Colin grabbed his cot. “Yeah, I got it.” And left the room in a hurry. Princess and Terrell looked at each other again.
“The other cots are a great idea, too, Terrell. Why don’t you bring them out there as well. You’ll be everyone’s hero!”
Terrell smiled, and Princess smiled that soft smile at him. “Let me help you,” she said, staring into his distracted eyes. They carried three cots together out the door.
I stood in the center of the room, surveying the supplies around me, taking a mental inventory of what was neatly stored for nights of fun and learning, items that were part of the program, and some that were stocked for those kids who forgot to pack them — pillows, toothbrushes, fuzzy socks, t-shirts, snacks, juice boxes, star maps, binoculars, museum maps, and, of course, blankets, glow sticks and cots. I itemized them all in my brain. It seemed important that I knew what was available to us. It seemed important that I knew something — anything— because this room froze a moment ago until I made a decision. All eyes were on me and when I spoke, they listened. I had no idea what I was doing, but doing something felt better than the silence.
Written in Natalie’s Notebook
Afternoon 10/6
I’m sitting here in the middle of a closet, splayed out on the floor, terrified to go out to the group I’m with. I have questions
-Are we leaving?
-Are we waiting for someone?
-Does anyone know how to get Rose to a doctor?
-Does somebody — I mean ANYBODY — have a plan?
I don’t even want to bother to ask any of these questions out loud because I don’t think anyone has any answers and I don’t think I can survive that silence again.
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