The jig was up, I was caught, and there was no getting around it. My leg was half way in the open window when the security car rolled up. Thinking there might still be a chance to save myself, I dove into the snow-bank to hide as the spotlight headed my way. Perfect, I thought, we chose to try for Pillsbury at the exact same time they patrol it. We’re screwed.

Once the spotlight had left, the car pulled forward out of view, which, of course, meant he was parking to walk over to our spot and catch us in the act. I whispered desperately to Rin and Averna who had successfully gotten inside in time. I told Rin to give me his keys; I would be long gone before the security officer came over to catch us all. The plan was for me to wait in the car, there I would be safe from any security or cop presence, this was certain.

—

Up, up, up. Neither Rin nor I knew what we’d just left Gahein to sort out; whether he was quickly retracing our mischievous tracks or attempting to talk his way out of a trespassing ticket, we continued upon the only path currently available to us. The spiral staircase creaked under our shifting weight and our breath misted on the stale rotten-oats air. Up.

Once at the top, we had to catch our breath and reevaluate the clusterfuck that the evening’s adventure had quickly become. The space was empty and dark, the floor playing host to a few remaining pieces of milling equipment, and Rin and I hurried towards the first exterior-looking door we could see. Using our Mill-top vantage point to survey the scene, Rin peaked cautiously over the side of a silo, down towards the roof of the car. Gahein apparently nowhere in sight, he threw one word back over his shoulder at me: “Cops.”

Of course, ‘cops’ turned out to mean security circling the building, but the threat was there nonetheless. With only a missing Hero and two potential trespassing tickets far below us, we continued up. Despite all, that legendary pink roof was up, up, up.

—

With the keys in hand I quickly walked up the hill, assuming the security would be on it’s way over to the spot I was huddled. Within a minute I was standing on the driver’s side of Rin’s car, parked conveniently right next to Pillsbury, over a dozen silos standing tall and firm to watch the following act. It was a shame to give up such majesty, but it was a bit of a relief to know that I’d be sitting a while in the safety of the car.

Looking around a moment, I saw the security car turn the corner and begin rolling my way. Shit, I thought, the security was supposed to be looking for me on the other side of the building. I played it cool as I put the key into the lock and turned to hear that wonderful click as the lock opened. I reached for the handle, feeling a pang of fear as the security car passed behind me. The door wouldn’t open. I knew it was open; it had to be open. I tried it again, and again, the lock opened and closed, back and forth, but the door just wouldn’t give. All the while the car was stopped at the corner about 25 feet away. His eyes, I could only assume, watched my every move as I struggled to open the door.

So many thoughts flew through my mind: Should I continue this charade? What could this security person possibly think I’m doing? Does he suspect me? Does he think I tried to get into Pillsbury? Well, I said silently to myself. This door is not opening, and I’d feel a lot better trying to open it without that car sitting there. I decided to take a little walk, I could settle my nerves, and hopefully security would just get out of there and leave me alone.

I put the keys in my pocket, and headed towards the sidewalk on the other side of the street. I passed the security car quickly and my mind drifted briefly to what he must think I’m doing. But the thought passed as quickly as it arose, I still had hope in the certainty of my innocence. The night was not the most suited towards walking around the block, or exploring for that matter. There was a cold, but moist, chill in the air the kind that gets into your bones. The sidewalks were miniature ponds, so I got more than one opportunity to get my shoes wet. I took my time around the block, but I didn’t take long enough.

I rounded the corner and was glad to find the security car gone. This time, I decided to try the passenger side door, but as soon as I got around to the side, the security car turned the corner and made his way toward me. I slid the key into the lock, heard it turn and pulled on the door. The security car passed and I could feel his gaze pass over me as I crawled in to the driver’s seat, put the key in the ignition and started the heaters. In my opinion, I was opening my friend’s car and staying in there until he returned. I was about to discover that there were other people who saw this series of events differently. Rin had left his phone in the car and I didn’t have mine, so I used his phone to call Averna. After a brief check-in with them, apprising them of the situation and of the security keeping a careful watch on me, I turned to Love 105 and lay back in the seat to wait.

—

Euphoria was setting in.  Months and months of lust and planning and early morning scouting and we were finally inside the giant. Ever so quietly, we crept up through the production link and into the main brick building that was Pillsbury’s Best Flour. A single gold bulb hung down into the room, inviting us in.

Again, we were faced with the need to go up. Of course, we were now face to face with working electricity and both of us well remembered all the stories we’d been told of motion sensors and alarms and security. Moving slowly on the search for stairs, every glint of light was an alarm being tripped, a sensor waiting for us to move a little quicker. The stairs were the obvious choice, but that was a threat all in itself. The stairwell was dark, but each landing was boasting its own glowing red dot, like a tiny, devilish eye.

As our alternative was entirely unacceptable, turning around and retracing our steps, we carefully, ever so slowly slid through the doorway. One at a time, one slow, laborious step at a time, we crept up the steps. Even moving so slowly, the climb was exhausting. I held my breath, every too-quick twitch of my hand or foot triggering an alarm that only ever seemed to ring in my head. Moving slow didn’t actually beat motion sensors, did it? I was pretty sure Mythbusters had taken care of this particular tale. We kept moving.

We kept moving, and eventually, miraculously, we reached the top. One final ladder, panting. Up through a trap door, crawling over a ledge into a small utility shed. One dusty, ancient window let light in, and I could hear Rin’s excitement through the plywood door on my right – I knew what he’d found.

—

I had settled in to an almost dream-like state, but the song on the radio had not even finished when I felt that suddenly things were not right. I opened my eyes to discover there were two spotlights pointed straight at the car. I quickly leaned the seat up and turned off the radio, as a police officer appeared out from behind the lights. He came at a slow gait, and asked for me to lower the window. After complying quickly, he asked before I had a second to say anything, “Is this your car, sir?”

“Well, I have the keys don’t I?” was my response.

Looking back, this may not have been the best possible answer I could have given, but indeed it may as well have been the most truthful thing I would say for some time. He asked me to step out of the car, which I promptly replied by reaching for the handle, hoping to some higher power that the handle would not behave as it had with me earlier. With an almost inflammatory grace, it opened and I stepped out as instructed. There were three cops, all men, and two cop cars. The security car was gone, but I wasn’t paying any attention to security anymore. The younger of the cops seemed to have joined this call for the fun of it, as he was the one on his own, I don’t know that his presence seemed all that necessary. The cop who had me get out of the car leaned me up against it as he patted me down, asking me the usual questions, which I answered as politely as I could muster, ending each reply with a very precise “sir.” He took my wallet to get my ID and information, I explained that of course it was not my car it was my friend’s car, and gave him the information proving that it belonged to who I said it did.

After I was checked, I was led to the closest cop car, belonging to the two older cops, where I sat down, they let me sit there for a moment with the door open as they looked through Rin’s car a bit more, then the younger, lone cop came up to me with an important question. He leaned in and asked, “So, we were looking through your friend’s car and smelled some up-dog, you know if your friend had any up-dog in his car?”

I looked at him dead in the eye totally confused, until I put the pieces together; I felt my expression change. I smiled curtly at him and said slowly, “What’s up dog?”

“Wussup dawg?!” He astounded and they all burst out laughing, I smiled knowingly as he closed the door, leaving me squished against the grate, alone in the car for a few moments to put myself together.

—

We’d surpassed Euphoria somewhere on the climb up. We were children now, having snuck past the ‘rents and gotten our greedy hands so far into the cookie jar we’d likely ride the sugar high straight into tomorrow morning. Quietly celebrating with all the joy in our hearts, we danced in circles in that beautiful pink glow. It was wonderful enough to justify two crappy cell phone pictures and another small victory dance. We posed like brave war Heroes, conquerors looking out over our empire. We were invincible.

My phone buzzed in my pocket. It was Gahein, calling up to our throne from so, so far below. Rin was still snapping pictures, so I pulled off a glove, pushed receive and pressed the phone to my cold, smiling face. A few seconds, a bit of realism. I beckoned Rin; it was my turn to say that one, fun, impressively potent word.

“Cops.”

It was time to head back.

—

For the last year and half, we have all been asking ourselves what might have been the climax of this story. Was it the rush, thinking I had been spotted? The interrogation by the police? Or the final phone call? I sat in the police car, as two of the three cops searched my fellow Hero’s car. The third cop sat up front, making a call to his wife to tell her he would be home late tonight. I sat silently in shock.

Wondering what I would say, I assessed the situation. I had broken no laws so far, I was not driving without a license, I was not intoxicated or high, I was not stealing anyone’s car, and most importantly, I was not trespassing. Yet there was just one hitch, the man who the car actually belonged to -was- breaking the law, and was likely also enjoying a view of the city I would quickly envy. I decided that I would have to give up some of my friends’ dignity if I wanted to preserve their legal status. I also decided to play a card I had had in my hand for a long time but had always been too afraid to play; the pity card.

After the two cops had concluded their very thorough search of Rin’s car, the lone cop took his leave, and the older cop took his spot in the driver’s seat. I braced myself for the following trial.

It would be impossible for me to relate every question and every response that was exchanged in that car, but I remember this much. The first part of the conversation took place over an investigation of the contents inside Rin’s wallet. He had some money, from having recently cashed a check. They looked through his various cards, and a picture of his girlfriend, which prompted the question, “Who’s that?”

“His Girlfriend,” I responded.
“Huh, she’s cute.”

I turned my head away for a moment to allow myself the opportunity to roll my eyes and bite my lower lip. I felt as though this conversation was being held more for their entertainment than for maintaining the law, but I didn’t put up a fight, I was secretly enjoying myself. They still wanted an explanation for my behavior, so I gave them one.

I told them that I had been out on the town with two friends, after a break-up with my girlfriend. My friend’s absence? They had parked the car and told me to wait in it while they went somewhere. Without telling me where they were going, I was left alone to wait, however long it would take. Why didn’t they tell me where they were going? I told the cops that my two friends were better friends with one another than they were with me; a comment underlined by an innuendo that was completely beyond my control. The response was a long pause as I realized what I had just said. I couldn’t tell if they were shocked or skeptical. When I saw that they had accepted this answer, I continued down that dark road, hoping it wouldn’t mean anything in the greater scheme of things. I wondered if lying to the cops was worse than admitting my friends were trespassing, or if telling this particular lie was worse than any other truth or lie I could have told. I knew that in order for them to let us all go, I had to change my friends’ crimes to ones not of legal nature, but of moral nature, for their are no police for morality. I realized this in that car, and I knew that I had been cursed with the believability of my made-up story.

I eventually explained that, after the assumed torture of being dumped and then ditched by my best friend, I had gone on a walk around the block to clear the air. But to add to my pity-pile, I explained that I had fallen in a puddle on this walk, only to have private security call the cops when I was attempting, and failing, to get back in to my not-so-great friend’s car.

That was all I had, any other responses would stem from that story. I held my breath after every pause, as they thought up their next question, trying to break up this story to see if it made any sense. In my free moments I did my best to seem pitiful, but what can I say, I was. I glanced at the computer screen in the front. It read “Burglary.” Right then, it dawned on me; I had not been seen by security. If I had stayed where I was, curled up behind that pile of snow, and had decided instead to follow my companions into the building, I would be standing on the roof of Pillsbury A Mill. If I wasn’t pitiful for going through a break-up, having my friends ditch me, and falling in a puddle of slush, then I was pitiful for having my ass in the back of a police car. The act worked, but there was no applause from any audience. If there was it came in the form of one sentence:

“Well, you gotta admit his story is very odd, but it’s also strangely plausible.”

I clenched my fists in secret celebration as they spoke the “I guess we’re going to have to let you go” line. But I knew the charade wasn’t over, things could still change. I waited patiently. They asked again about my friends, and I told them that I would just have to wait for them. They asked me if I was some sort of get-away-driver, I responded with a furrow of my eyebrows and a shake of my head, “No sir, I don’t have my license, I can’t drive.” This was enough for them. If I hadn’t won their approval, I had won their amusement, and their charity; we were both tired.

They let me out of the car, and I thanked them as sincerely and solemnly as I could for their time. They had one last question. The cop letting me out of the car looked up at the silos of Pillsbury, “They aren’t in -there- are they?”

“I sure hope not,” I said, “people die in those places.”