Beginner's Luck by Len Levinson Read Free Book Online

and I'll bet her kitchen is stocked full of food. His mouth watered as he imagined sliced beef, roast chickens, fried potatoes, sliced tomatoes, mounds of rice, and pies bursting with apples and cinnamon. I wonder if her back door is locked?
    Duane glanced around, and all was still. The nearest house was fifty yards away, completely darkened. Duane crept over the scraggly lawn, heading toward the rear of the house. He drooled uncontrollably, and felt like fainting. I'll only take food, and I'm sure she can afford it, he rationalized. You don't want me to die, do you, God?
    Prodded by hunger, he arrived at the back door,twisted the knob, but it was locked from the inside. He tried to open a window, but it, too, was latched. Duane peeled off his tattered frock coat, wrapped it around a rock, and pushed it firmly against the window.
    The glass broke, shards fell to the floor inside, and a dog barked across the way. Duane vowed to run if he saw a lantern, but the dog stopped barking, and passed to his whining phase. No lanterns could be seen. Duane returned to his broken window, reached inside, and flipped the latch. Then, slowly, he raised the window. He jumped into the air, bellied over the sill, and landed on the floor inside, next to the kitchen table.
    A bowl of fruit was positioned on a doily in the middle of the table, and Duane grabbed an apple. He stuffed it into his mouth hungrily, chewing even the seeds. A tin breadbox on the counter became his next objective. He pried the top off, and saw a half loaf of bread with several corn muffins. He grabbed a muffin in his fist and mashed it whole into his mouth, chewing like a fanatic.
    The doughy substance thickened in his throat, and he nearly gagged. He opened the front door of the wood icebox, groped inside, and his hand fell on half a chicken. He pulled it out and dug his fangs into the moist white breast. Chewing frantically, he darted around the kitchen, searching for liquid to wash it all down.
    A sliver of light flickered on something in the hallway. Gnawing on the chicken, Duane proceeded down the hall to the next room, which had upholstered chairs, a sofa, and a fireplace. The twinkle came fromthe top of a cabinet crafted from dark wood.
    He bent before it, and was amazed to see tiny statues of unicorns made from gold, silver, and crystal, with Vanessa Fontaine's necklaces and bracelets draped over their horns, while earrings sprawled among their hooves.
    It looked like fairyland, and Duane stopped chewing for the first time since breaking into the house. He wondered what kind of mind would concoct such a show. She's a little girl underneath it all, he realized. For the first time, it occurred to him that she might have a mind. He took a step backward, to see what else the room held.
    His eyes widened on a painting four feet square hanging above the dresser. He leaned forward and feasted his eyes upon the image of Vanessa Fontaine, wearing a blue gown, standing against a backdrop of red roses. The likeness was almost real, and her big blue eyes seemed to be saying, Please don't rob me. Her reproachful eyes drilled into him, and he felt guilty for breaking into her home.
    He heard a key in the front door, and his hair stood on end. He froze before the painting of Vanessa Fontaine, as a dainty foot made contact with the vestibule. Duane dove behind the sofa, as her footsteps approached. She headed for her jewelry, muttered something dark and incomprehensible, and began clawing among the unicorns. “Where the hell's that necklace?” she murmured.
    Duane peered around the end of the sofa, as she fussed and puffed at the cabinet, knocking over unicorns, opening drawers. He hoped she wouldn't look down, where he'd dropped a spare chickenbone. His heart beat like a tom-tom, and he broke into a cold sweat at the mere thought of jail.
    Suddenly she went stiff, and he realized that she'd spotted the chicken bone, only a few feet from an apple core that he'd also lost