THE STAIRS© Tom Scocca, 2025 This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual people, places, and events is entirely coincidental, with the exception of the events in Chapters One and Two, which happened more or less as written, on the line between Cambridge and Somerville, Massachusetts, on Memorial Day weekend in 1999. 4. "What's this about?" said Maxine, as soon as we were in the bedroom. I must have looked confused. How did she know it was about anything? "Guys," she said, rolling her eyes. "You were practically lunging to get out of the living room and in here. Luckily, Emmo is only thinking about her homework. So: Why are we staying inside, in an empty apartment, on a perfect summer day?" "We found a door," I said. "Look!" "You found it?" Maxine said. "It's been there along." "I told him that," Theo said. "So there's a door," Maxine said. "It's the fire door. So what." "It's not a fire door," Theo said. "This building has sprinklers." He pointed at the sprinkler head sticking out over the regular bedroom door. His lower lip was starting to turn in a little. I mostly try not to press my advantages against Theo, but even so, as a little brother, he can't help being sensitive to being bossed around. As a little sister, Maxine doesn't much worry about when she might be getting bossy. "Maybe it was a fire door at some point," I said, trying to help out. "Before they put in the sprinklers. But nobody uses it. We don't use it." "OK," said Maxine. "It's a former fire door. And now—it goes to Narnia?" "And now somebody left a package on our doorstep," I said. "Out there. Even though we never use the door." I got the acorn out of my pocket and showed her. "It was full of these." Maxine took the acorn and rolled it around in her hand. She was frowning, but thoughtfully now. "Let me see," she said. Theo grabbed the knob, turned it, and pulled. There was the same dim, brown stairwell, same orange bulbs, same stone floor. No box. "It was right there," I said. I was expecting Maxine to say something skeptical, but she just stood with us in the doorway, looking this way and that in the dimness. It was totally hushed and still. "This is weird," she said. "Your apartment has a number and a doorbell out here." We hadn't even looked before, but there they were: a little round button in the wall by the doorframe, and above it a brass numeral 2. "Let's see what's downstairs," Maxine said. "What about our shoes?" I said. Everyone's sneakers were still back out in the entry hall, past Emily. "Barefoot it," she said. "Floor looks clean enough." It did. That meant somebody must have been out there cleaning it, not too long ago. I grabbed my book bag from where it was sitting with the rest of the luggage and stuck it in the doorway to prop the door open. We went out onto the landing—me first, then Maxine, then Theo—and around to the left, and down the stairs. The steps were wood, sturdily built, and level, giving just the faintest creaking underfoot. Nobody said anything. At the bottom was a door with a push bar. I leaned on it and it swung right open, so easily I stepped through with one foot. It was dark, and the streetlights were on. My toes landed on cold, snowy pavement. If you've had the misfortune of stepping barefoot on snow before, you know it hurts right away, like stepping on something sharp. I jumped back, bumping into Maxine and Theo, and the door shut again, with a puff of cold air. "Upstairs," I said. "Now." We went. "I didn't get a look," Theo said, when we were back in the room. "It's nighttime down there," Maxine said. "On a winter night," I said, rubbing my toes. "How could it be?" Theo said. "We'll see," Maxine said. "Where are your winter shoes?" A lot of things had been stuffed into the bedroom closet. I rummaged around until I came up with Theo's snow boots, a pair of regular boots for me, and my rubber boots for Maxine. Our winter coats were in there, too—Mom had gotten parkas for Theo and me, because winter was so much colder in Marble City than in Turfburg, but we still had my old coat as well. "I'll take the parka," Maxine said. That seemed fair; the rubber boots weren't as warm as my regular boots. It felt crazy to be putting on our winter gear in the sunny bedroom, with the electric box fan whirring in one window. We didn't put on jeans or anything, but the coats hung down over our shorts. Once again, I propped the door, and we headed back down. I was getting used to being in the stairwell by now. I pushed the downstairs door open and held it as Theo and Maxine came out with me. Find other chapters of The Stairs here. EASY LISTENING DEP'T.Here is the Indignity Morning Podcast archive! SANDWICH RECIPES DEP'T.WE PRESENT INSTRUCTIONS for the assembly of a sandwich selected from Cassell's New Dictionary of Cookery, published in 1912 by Cassell and Company, London, New York, Toronto, and Melbourne, and available at archive.org for the delectation of all. EGG SANDWICHES. Boil some eggs hard as if for a salad. When quite cold, cut them into thin slices, sprinkle with pepper and salt, and place the slices between nicely-prepared bread and butter. This is a convenient and delicate preparation for a journey taken in haste. If you decide to prepare and attempt to enjoy a sandwich inspired by this offering, be sure to send a picture to indignity@indignity.net . SELF-SERVING SELF-PROMOTION DEP'T. Indignity is presented on Ghost. Indignity recommends Ghost for your Modern Publishing needs. Indignity gets a slice if you do this successfully!
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