I think it was the noise of the hob-nail boots on the stairs at the end
of the hall that first woke me.
In a place like this an abduction or disappearance is always possible
and it pays to make some plans.
I jumped from my bed and straightened the covers,
throwing two pillows against the wall.
I grabbed my bath robe and paddled toward the sliding glass door
that led to the open porch.
As I passed through the door,
I slipped the latch so it would lock behind me as I went out.
I just closed the door,
when I began to hear the pounding on the room door with a bludgeon.
I crawled under the plastic table
and backed myself into the far corner of the tiny porch.
Then I reached out for the leg of one chair to further obstruct the view.
That was all I could do.
