I stopped, muttering to myself to be more careful. The radio wasn’t going anywhere. I needed to slow down, but the confines of the space tested my rising anxiety, my claustrophobia eating at my nerves. Turning sideways, I slid past the mower and managed not to kick anything else. Daddy’s old tools and odds and ends littered the rusted shelves against the back wall. The radio was tucked behind a power tool case on the top shelf. As I stretched to reach it, I heard the squeak of the metal door. I turned in panic and saw the door shut.

I was trapped inside the shed.

Later I thought of a handful of things I should of have done, but I didn't do any of them. Instead, I did the first thing that came to mind. I released a blood-curdling scream loud enough to rouse every neighbor in a two-block radius.

“Rose?” Joe’s muffled voice called outside. The door scraped open and he filled the doorway. “What on earth are you doin’ in here?”

I still stood on the chest, my arm reaching up, frozen. At least I had stopped screaming. Instead, I bawled like a baby, to my utter embarrassment. “I was gettin’ the radio… and the door closed…and I thought I was trapped…”

Joe pushed his way past the mower to reach me. “I heard noises out here and thought someone was prowling in your shed. I didn’t know it was you.”

He helped me work my way around the clutter into the night air. I couldn't make myself stop crying.

Joe leaned down and looked into my eyes, smoothing my hair with his hand. “Hey, are you okay?”

I nodded. Physically, I was fine, in spite of my shaking.

He pulled me into a hug and I laid my cheek against his chest, trying to compose myself.

“I didn't mean to scare you. I’m sorry.” He rubbed my back.

“It’s okay,” I said, my tears finally subsiding. “I’m just terrified of being locked up.”

“Why?”

“My Momma used to lock me in the closet sometimes.” My voice trailed off in embarrassment. What on earth possessed me to confide that?

“Your mother locked you in a closet?” He sounded incredulous. “Why?”

“Punishment.” I couldn’t admit that she locked me up when I saw things about people. At first, she thought I was spying and she tried to teach me a lesson. Later, it was because I scared her.

“What on earth could you ever do to warrant such a thing?”

I didn’t answer. Nothing could justify what I’d endured.

We stood there a moment, me in his arms, his breath in my hair. My fear dissipated, replaced with another reaction.

“What were you lookin’ for in the shed?” Joe finally broke the silence.

“The radio, but I couldn’t quite reach it.”

Joe dropped his arms and went into the shed. “On the top shelf?”

“Yeah.”

He emerged from the shed with the radio in his hand. It was old and encrusted in dirt. “Is this what you were after?” He held it out.

I nodded and took it from him. “Yes, thanks.”

“Need anything else?”

I shook my head, still having trouble forming words.

He closed the shed and we walked in silence to my side door. I expected him to say something about the other night, to try to explain himself again. I’d listen this time, but he didn’t.

I reached for the doorknob. “Thanks…I think.” He helped me, but only after he scared the tarnation out of me.

“I’m sorry. I really was trying to help.”

I hesitated, not ready for him to leave yet. “Would you like to come in?”

An array of emotions played across his face. First, happiness, from the way his eyes lit up. Then indecision dimmed the gleam. And at last, resignation. “I can’t. I’m sorry.”

“Oh…okay.”

“I’m right next door if you need me.” It came out as kind of a sigh.

I didn’t answer, just went in and shut the door behind me. I took a couple of deep breaths while I tried to slow my racing heart.

I was too late. He'd changed his mind. I set the radio on the table, no longer wanting to dance.

I tossed and turned in bed, shadowy images haunting my sleep. I dreamed I heard glass breaking. And then realized I wasn’t dreaming. I sat up in bed, straining to listen. Just when I was about to lay back down, I heard the creak of a window, the wood scraping the frame as it opened.

I jumped out of bed and stood in the doorway, trying to determine where the sound came from. Momma’s room. I bolted down the hall and into her room, just as a dark figure dressed in black and wearing a stocking cap stuck his leg through the window. I screamed. He jerked his head up, whacking it into the window frame. I grabbed a broom I had left in the room when Violet and I cleaned and started beating the prowler, who hung half in and half out of the opening. My wild swinging broke the glass in the upper window.

The burglar worked himself out the window and fell to the ground, scrambling up and bolting toward Joe’s house. It took me a second to realize I was still screaming.

Get a grip, Rose. He’s gone.

I tried to turn on the lights, but whoever broke in must have cut the electricity. Again. I heard pounding on the side door, causing my panic to return. What if the intruder was trying to get in the side door?

“Rose!” Joe shouted between the banging. “If you don't open this door, I’m gonna break it down!”

Relieved, I shouted, “I’m comin’, give me a second.”