We did, though it didn't seem too useful to me, since we had no idea what we were looking for. We didn't even know if we were looking for something missing or something added. Nothing seemed amiss downstairs, other than the normal chaos that comes from preparing for a large party and then having several hundred people tramping in and out to use the bathroom. I sighed at the thought of the cleanup we'd be doing tomorrow. The few people currently in the house remembered seeing the gorilla suit, but thought it was Horace. Was I the only one who noticed the new suit? Then again, presumably Horace could have gone inside to use the bathroom. We scrutinized the fuse box, but none of us knew what a booby-trapped one looked like, and anyway the lights were working.
It was upstairs that we found it. In my room. "Dad! Michael!" I hissed. They came running, and I pointed to the object lying on my bed.
A small wooden box, like a shoebox propped up on one end. Made of some highly polished wood, with delicate asymmetric carving on two sides. Leaning against one side was a card that said, in large, bold letters: For Meg.
"Looks like Steven's and Barry's work," I said.
"Really?" Michael said. "It's quite impressive."
"Could you have mistaken Barry for Horace?" Dad asked.
"Doesn't seem likely," I said. "It was a new gorilla suit, but it still didn't seem that large a gorilla. Then again, I didn't get a really good look, and I assumed it was Horace."
We were circling the bed, peering at the box from all sides. I finally reached out to take the card--
Lifting the card triggered some hidden mechanism. The lid flew open, and something leaped out like a jack-in-the-box. I didn't see what, at first; we all hit the floor. After a few seconds, when nothing happened, we peeked over the side of the bed. A large bouquet of silk flowers had popped out of the box and was still swaying slightly. A card that said Love, Barry was twined in the foliage.
"That's certainly very ingenious," Dad said, peering at the box with interest.
"And rather romantic in a way, I suppose," Michael remarked, frowning.
"Of all the idiotic things," I began. My heart was still pounding at twice the usual rate. And then I noticed something about the box.
"Gangway," I yelled, grabbing it and running. I scrambled through my window onto the flat porch roof outside, and hurled the box as far as I could toward the river. I have a good, strong throwing arm; it actually ended up in the bushes at the edge of the bluff.
"Meg, that was uncalled for," Dad said, following me out onto the roof. "I don't like Barry any more than you do, but--"
Whatever else he was saying was drowned out by the loud explosion at the edge of the bluff. Part of the bluff flew up into the air, disintegrating as it went, and began raining down in small chunks on the guests in the backyard. A small tree wobbled and disappeared over the edge.
"It was ticking," I said. "I see no reason for jack-in-the-boxes to tick. And someone had ripped open the lining and put something under it and sewed it back up, clumsily. Of course he could have decided at the last minute to put in a music box, and done it in a hurry, but I didn't think that was too likely, and I'm glad I didn't stop to find out. What kind of an idiot would leave something like that where anyone could find it, Mother or Eric or--"
"Sit down, Meg, you're babbling," Dad said. I sat. "Michael, fetch her a glass of water. And then--"
"Yes, I know," Michael said. "Find the sheriff."
"And Barry," Dad said. "I think I see them there in the crowd."
I looked up. People were swarming near the edge of the bluff. Much too near the edge. I leaped up.
"Get away from the bluff!" I shrieked. "Everybody away from the bluff! Now!"
They paid attention. Clowns, hoboes, gypsies, and furry animals of all kinds scattered madly and dived for cover. No doubt they thought I'd finally lost it and was planning to lob more grenades.
"Good," Dad said approvingly. "We need to preserve these crime scenes better."
"I'll fetch the sheriff now," Michael said. He brought them right out onto the roof. The sheriff didn't mind; he could keep an eye on his deputies--several of whom conveniently, were also relatives and thus already here to begin the investigation.
"What is going on here?" the sheriff began.
"Barry," I said. "Did you leave me a present? Carved wooden box with a pop-up bouquet?"
"Yes," Barry said, his face brightening. "Did you like it? When you didn't say anything before I thought you didn't like it."
"Before? I only just found it a few minutes ago."
"But I left it on your porch last night."