A Different Look at 1111 (4)

 

A Different Look at 1111

Part 4

Quinn's Secret

It was early in the Summer between her Junior and Senior years at Lawndale High, and Stacy Rowe was visiting her best friend, Quinn Morgendorffer.

She rang the doorbell. Quinn's Mom came to the door. “Hi, Stacy, Quinn is upstairs. Qui-inn! Your friend is here!”

 

There was no response.

 

“Is she?” Stacy asked.

 

“Odd,” Quinn's Mom, Helen, said. “Come to the kitchen.”

 

“Sure,” Stacy said.

 

 

In the kitchen, Helen pressed an odd button next to the sink, that Stacy had always noticed, but thought was simply a decoration. 'I guess not. It's another mechanism, like the Dining Room, and the guest room closet-platform,' she thought. She had seen Tom and Daria come down from it one night, and some months later, had used it to surprise Jeffy. That had been a memorable night. However, she noticed a panel on the wall next to the microwave, recede and then slide aside, revealing an older styled telephone handset. Helen picked it up.

 

“This is an intercom. It reaches everywhere in the house,” Helen said.

 

“Are you sure?” Stacy asked.

 

“Yes,” Helen answered.

 

She held down a button in the middle of the handpiece. “Quinn! Stacy is here!”

 

“Quinn! Stacy is here!” the mechanism somehow had a delay built in. 'I guess that reduces the chance of feedback,' Stacy thought. “Cool,” she said.

 

“Yes, it is isn't. it? Of course, Daria knew about it for a full year before she told me!” Helen said with a shake of her head.

 

Quinn's reply then came. “I'll be there in a minute, Mom.”

 

“There, you go. She is here, somewhere.”

 

'There are probably other secrets you don't know about,' Stacy thought.

 

 

Quinn entered the kitchen a minute later. “Sorry, I was.... doing something.”

 

“You seem to be 'doing something' a lot lately,” Helen said.

 

Quinn's expression seemed to say; 'Not this again, Mom!' “Stacy, come on!”

 

“Where?” Stacy asked. Quinn seemed a little... dishevelled. Her clothes had creases, and her hair was a little wild. But it was minor, she was sure that only people who knew her well would notice.

 

“Up to my room!” Quinn said, as if it were obvious.

 

“Sure!” Stacy said. They then left the kitchen.

 

 

When they arrived in Quinn's room. Quinn went to her closet and opened the door. “If you must know, I was in here.”

 

“Quinn? Are you alright? You weren't crying, were you?” Stacy involuntarily remembered a similar experience, a second attempt at asking Brett Strand out, going awry like the first time just prior to the medieval fair. She managed to stop the distress from showing on her face.

 

Quinn brightened. “Of course not! Come in and see,” she said.

 

Stacy wondered, was it like the guest room? But she hadn't seen it above the roof when she arrived! She followed Quinn in.

 

Quinn twisted a knob on the back of the closet and Stacy felt a jerk. She turned around and saw that the closet was going downwards! She turned back to Quinn. “The closet’s like the dining room?” she asked in excitement.

 

“Yes,” Quinn said.

 

'She's being enigmatic, that's certain,' Stacy thought.

 

 

A few moments later, the closet came to rest on a lower level. “We're here,” Quinn said as she stepped out of the closet and flicked a light switch. Stacy followed her out.

 

Stacy looked around. The room as the same size and shape as Quinn's room many stories above. (How many, she wasn't sure. She guessed at least four.) The room was filled with books, folders, loose pieces of paper, rolls of fabric of varying colors and canvases. A sewing machine lay on a table next to the door located where the room door would be located in the room they had just left.

 

What she could see of the loose papers had either writings or pictures on them. A significant portion of the pictures were of clothing designs, but there were varied other subject on the other pictures. Many of the canvases had paintings on them. She could see a small easel and half empty paint bottles on the wall opposite to the sewing machine.

 

“Is this...” Stacy began, speechless.

 

“Yes, it's all mine,” Quinn admitted. “The majority of it,” she added.

 

“Majority?” Stacy asked.

 

“Some of it is the magician's original designs for the mechanisms in the house. They're now buried under my stuff,” Quinn explained. Stacy stepped to the side and saw the clothing that Quinn had made hung on a rack. She could see a progression of quality as her friend had improved. She looked at the most recent dress.

 

“This is a great dress; you should wear it!”

 

Quinn smiled “You really think so?”

 

“Yes!” Stacy said in excitement.

 

Quinn took the dress off Stacy. “Then I shall.”

 

“Quinn, does anyone else know about this?”

 

“No,” Quinn admitted. She thought for a moment. “Daria might, but she hasn't said anything.” She turned back to Stacy. “But my parents don't know.”

 

“I won't tell them!” Stacy exclaimed.

 

“I know you won't.”

 

Stacy picked up one of the pictures. “This is really good. You should show Ms. Defoe!”

 

“And be compared to Jane? No way! Then I will be called a Brain Artist,” she said with a giggle. That told Stacy that Quinn was at least considering it.

 

“Why tell me now?” Stacy askd.

 

“You're my best friend. Besides, with the Fashion Club dissolved, I felt it was the right time,” Quinn answered.

 

Stacy smiled. “Quinn...” She paused. “You know that caricature?” she asked referring to an incident some months ago.

 

“Yes?” Quinn prompted, guessing that Stacy was going to divulge a secret of her own.

 

“I have it!” Stacy then panicked. “Don't tell Sandi or Tiffany! Please!”

 

“Stacy! Why would I. Besides,” Quinn added. “I didn't look that bad in it. I mean. Look at some of these pictures. It took me a while to improve.”

 

“Sure...”

 

The two close friends the continued to examine the contents of the room and talk (especially the latter), until Helen used the intercom to say that lunch was ready.