How it startedMature

The underground room was eight by eight. It had taken me almost all summer to excavate it. Now it was done. I looked up at the two by fours that held back the dirt and weeds I’d transplanted.

“There is no way anyone will ever find this place unless I show them where it’s at,” I said aloud.

The walls were lined with wooden shelves, stocked with canned goods. Bottles of water beneath the shelves. Blankets and survival gear were strewn about.

“I could live down here for weeks as a time,” I told myself.

Getting my jewelry making paraphernalia down here was easy. I’d boxed it up when I started this dig, so my parents were used to not seeing it in my room.

My biggest problem was light. I needed stronger light than candles and a lantern. A portable generator would be nice, but too noisy, and no way could I run an extension cord from the house. I suppose I’ll have to make do with maglites unless I can come up with something better.

I looked at my watch. Nine fifty five, time for my first daylight robbery. The Clarks both left for work at 8:30. I had noticed that they always left the bathroom window open a crack. It was a small window, but I should be able to squeeze my 90 pounds through it.

I scampered up my makeshift ladder and slowly lifted the sod covered hatch. With no one in sight. I crawled out and replaced the hatch.

Funny how things work out, night burglers wear all black, while I’m wearing all white, from my hat to my shoes.

My first stop was our garage.

Up on the dust-covered wooden shelf I retrieved the wire bottle carrier. I had poured white paint into two bottles so they would resemble bottles of milk. My masquerade was now complete.To the casual observer I was a milkman; no one sees a milkman.

The Clark’s house was on a large tree covered lot. I walked up to the house, circled around back, and I was out of view. I took off my shoes, and donned rubber gloves. A half whiskey barrel was stored against the house, it’s twin contained flowers. I carried the half barrel over to the bathroom window.

With little effort, I slid open the window and hoisted myself inside. The bathroom smelled of lavender. I wasted no time looking at stuff, but went right to the master bedroom.

Mrs. Clark’s jewelry was in an ornate jewelry box; the bottom of which lifted out. I removed the top half that contained costume jewelry, and gazed at the real gems. I had a wide choice. I chose two diamond rings.

The End

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