The Night The Keys Got Lost

Growing up, we always had neighbors. Our neighbors had spare keys to our house so they could get the kids off the bus if Mom was held up somewhere, come in to feed the cat when we were away, and come to our rescue when we managed to get the whole family, including the cat, trapped in the basement behind a door with a faulty latch.¹ In NYC, far fewer people have neighbors who will help out in emergencies, which can lead to some strange situations.

The Scene: It’s 11PM on a Sunday evening. Sister is already sound asleep in what was once the living room. I am tucked up in bedroom #2, finishing a TV show before I fall asleep. The occupant of bedroom #1, hereinafter “Roomie,” was out with friends.

A text appeared on my phone from an unknown contact: Are you awake?

Just in case this was the opening line to a horror movie, I replied: Who is this?

Rachel. Michelle is locked out.² Rachel is a friend of Sister’s, who lives in Harlem. Michelle is also a friend of Sister’s, who lives about three miles deeper into Brooklyn. Confusion is now officially setting in.

“Uh, how can I help?” I texted. In response, my phone rang – this time, with an entirely different unknown number.

“Claire, it’s Michelle. I found your number from that time we all went to a protest together.” Uh. OK? “Listen, I lost the keys to my apartment, and both my roommates are gone for the night. I’ve been trying to call Sister, but I think she’s asleep. So I texted Rachel to see if I could stay with her, but since she’s all the way uptown I was hoping I could come stay on your couch.”

Me: Uh, sure, you can come and stay here . . . but we don’t even have a couch!

Michelle: As long as I’m not out in the cold, I don’t care.

The phone call ends, and now I am alone with several problems.

Problem 1: Air Mattress Location

In this apartment, we have three beds and no other soft surfaces. Air mattress, I think. We have an air mattress. I check my closet’s designated camping-gear spot: empty.

“Sis! Wake up!” I hiss in the dark as I’m shaking her shoulder. “We have an emergency. Where’s the air mattress??”

Sister finally wakes up enough to insist: “I gave you back the air mattress!” No, you didn’t. “Yes I did – oh wait here it is behind my bed. Sorry, I’m still not sure I’m not dreaming.” OK, where’s the motor to blow it up? “That I absolutely gave back to you! You have that! I swear you do!” No I don’t. You had it last! 

Several minutes go by with the same theme being repeated, before Sister finds the motor under her bed.

Problem 2: How to Inflate your Air Mattress

The motor’s batteries die. Fortunately, I am always prepared for hurricanes in mid-February and have a stash of spare batteries under my bed.

Problem 3: Where to Put Michelle

My room’s floor space is almost entirely taken up by boxes that we were supposed to return to storage on [D – 4 weeks ago]. Sister’s floor is similarly constrained. I send an urgent text to Roomie: can Michelle sleep in our kitchen tonight?

Roomie, to my surprise: Yeah sure, that’s fine.

Resolution:

We get the mattress wedged in between the stove and the roll-away counter, with my sleeping bag and one of Sister’s pillows on it for bedding. This blocks access to the cereal-bowl cabinet, so I move four bowls to the other side of the room for the morning. We rummage through various drawers and closets to find a spare toothbrush, clean towels, a pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt for Michelle to sleep in. Sister thoughtfully turns on the radiator in the kitchen. The intercom rings, our bemused night doorman wondering if we’re expecting a Michelle.

Michelle arrives, full of apologies for the inconvenience and thanking us profusely for rescuing a poor lost wanderer. We show her to the kitchen corner guest room, then both tumble back into bed. Michelle heads for the bathroom.

As I’m drifting off, I get yet another text, from Michelle: So, you guys are awesome, and I owe you both wine. But when I went to change into the sweatpants, my keys fell out of my back pocket.

A moment passes before Sister and I can hear each other cracking up straight through the walls. “In case anyone was wondering how long it takes to set up an emergency hostel, the answer is 40 minutes!” I declare.

We ended up letting Michelle stay the night. What are neighbors for?

¹ Yes, that actually happened.

² Names have been changed.