Page 18 of Merry Little Mishap

Nick rubbed his chin as he spoke patiently. “I’m thinking one of the emergency switches was accidentally triggered.”

“Most likely… do you see the ‘Push Run’ button?”

“Yes.”

“Is it engaged?”

“How can you tell?”

“Before you press anything, let me get your address in case we get disconnected. I can dispatch the fire department over there in seconds.”

Yes, god, send anyone! A firefighter, a construction worker, a deli owner, anyone at all who could free us from this thing. I leaned into Nick so the lady could hear me. “Thank you! We’re down in SOHO, Prince Street, 143?—”

I could barely get the numbers out, as Nick twisted a knob.

Immediately the alarm went off.

Along with the lights.

“Oh, shit,” Nick whispered.

“Nicholas!”

Full name? Two times in a row?

A red emergency light slowly came on from above, barely illuminating our faces in the dimly lit elevator. Nick twisted the knob again, but the lady on the other end was gone, left only with the first three numbers of our address.

I tired not to panic as I turned to Nick with the widest eyes ever.

He grinned apologetically, lifting up the

largeSichuan Gardenbag as an offering. “Hungry?”

“I’m not sure if I want to admit this…” Nick chuckled to himself. We sat on the dark elevator floor, slurping down noodles and sesame chicken. He passed me another crab wonton, his hand and features visible in the cast of the mellow red light above.

“Oh, come on! It can’t be that bad. All Christmas movies are a little silly, anyways. So which one’s your favorite?”

“It’s a divisive answer, I swear.”

“What?Christmas with the Kranks?”

Nick held out his hand as if stopping me. “Woah… don’t diss the Kranks.” He stabbed his chopsticks into his takeout container, dividing the assorted vegetables from the picked over meat. “Ok. Here it is. I know it’s not pretty, but try not to judge… promise?”

“Promise.”

It was dark, but I could tell Nick squinted in my direction. He paused, then spoke into his napkin. “It’sHome Alone… Two.”

I coughed up sweet and sour sauce, obviously judging him and not keeping my promise. “Two!”

“Hey! Don’t be rude.”

“I’m sorry, but that’s blasphemy. One is the original, it’s untouchable. Two?”

“I’m a New Yorker, what can I say? It’s the same movie as the first, but in our city. It’s way better.”

“He’s not evenhomealone in that one!”

“He is at one point… alone in a home. It gets by on technicality.” Nick reached into his endless bag of Chinese food to hand me napkins and an egg roll. I took both from his hand, still laughing at how appalled he was by my response.

---