Page 56 of Sort of Seeing Someone

“Oh yeah? Why’s that?” he asks.

“They’re shit-faced.”

“What? No. Who goes to an escape room drunk? You can’t focus on the clues when you’re wasted.”

Before he has a chance to freak out any further, our host for the evening approaches the group.

“Good evening, everyone. I’m Tommy, master escape room designer. Welcome to my second home, The Panic Room. Tonight, you all will be up against my latest creation, a puzzle I’m calling:Lab Rat Revenge.”

“If actual rodents are involved, I’m out,” I whisper in Ollie’s ear.

“The room takes place in a laboratory where possessed rats are conducting experiments on humans. That’s right, animal testing is taking on a whole new meaning tonight, folks. Here’s the tea: you are tasked with completing a series of puzzles to escape the possessed rodents. If you succeed, the place will explode behind you and you’ll put an end to the deranged human testing. If you fail, the rats are going to put you into a wood chipper.”

“What does a wood chipper have to do with a lab rat?”

I knew the engineer would throw a flag on that one. Alas, Tommy ignores him and keeps going with the directions.

“You will have one hour to complete the tests and attempt to get out of the laboratory before you turn into mulch, friends. Now let it be known that I will be watching from my underground lair. I will hear everything you say and see every move you make. Should I catch you clearly getting stuck on a clue—or spinning your rodent wheels, if you will—you’ll hear me come onto the intercom and give you a generous hint to steer you in the right direction. Any questions?”

The birthday girl has one.

“Is there Wi-Fi in here? I want to upload some selfies with the rats.”

“Thereis, but there are no phones allowed in the rooms. It’s too easy to google the answers to my riddles and cheat your way out. In fact, that’s actually what this chest is for. Everyone, put your phones and purses in here. I’ll keep everything locked up until you’re out.”

The room collectively groans at the thought of not being connected to the digital world for the next hour. As such, no one moves when Tommy opens the chest. No one, but Ollie.

“Anyone else care to follow the rules?” Ollie asks with his signature hint of elitist annoyance.

“I really hope we escape,” I say to no one in particular, dropping my purse into the chest and letting out a guttural sigh. The birthday group does the same, but lets out burps instead of sighs.

“Great, thanks. Any last questions?” Tommy asks, turning the key into the padlock on the chest.

I raise my hand.

“What if we have to go to the bathroom when we’re in there?”

“It’s a whole thing. Try not to,” Tommy says.

I give him a thumbs up, remembering how I’ve used that exact line on Nora’s kids before.

Tommy ushers us into the room and locks the door behind us. The six of us stare at each other in silence as the clock starts to tick down.

“Should we all introduce ourselves?” I suggest to Ollie.

“We don’t really have time for that,” he says, beginning to comb the perimeter of the room, running his hands along the walls, switches, and gears—looking for what, I don’t really know. “Besides, it’s better to work in pairs. Just stick with me and we’ll cover more ground on our own than we would as a big, dumb herd. It’s called divide and concur.”

Despite how into the escape room Ollie is, I can’t take not knowing the names of my fellow captors.

“Hi guys. This is Ollie. I’mMoonie,” I say. Right then, I realize I might be recognized. My name has been a Chicago buzzword lately and if these drunks pick up on that, I fear it will delay us even more.

“Anna is the birthday girl. I’m Meg. These are our boyfriends, Sebastian and Dan. Apologies in advance, we’re a little buzzed. Bottomless margaritas beforehandwas probablynotthe best idea, but when you’re visiting from small-town, Iowa to celebrate your thirtieth, it’s kind of a given. What’s the theme of this room again? Prison Break?”

Small-town, Iowa, check.

Ollie shouts out that he’s cracked the first clue by spinning a rodent wheel until it unlocked a drawer with another riddle in it.

“Lab rats are lyrical geniuses,”he reads to the group. “What could that possibly mean?”

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