On that Sunday morning, the birds woke the residents of Calle la Rosa 22 with an unusually loud chorus of chirping. As if some strange, invisible hand had synchronized the internal alarms of the owners and tenants of the eight houses. Even the children didn’t wake up earlier. All eighteen pairs of eyes opened at exactly the same time. Because something truly surprising was waiting for them. Something they had to see all at once for it to have its full effect.
“What a gorgeous, fragrant morning air,” Viktoria sighed.
The German woman inhaled deeply, her nose tilted towards the sky, as if she didn’t want any man-made scents—food, detergent, perfume, or coffee—to enter her lungs.
“I’ve got a strange feeling about this,” Günter shrugged.
“We’re so lucky to live here,” his wife said, still standing at the entrance of their terrace with her eyes closed.
“What’s that floating in the pool? Some giant inflatable toy?” Heidi squinted, her hair messy, as she looked towards the far end of the yard.
“Come on, let’s check it out,” Uwe said, giving her a friendly slap on the back.
“Wow,” María José murmured in surprise. “I never sleep this late.”
She washed her face and dried it with her soft, floral-scented towel covered in butterfly prints, then went over to the bedroom window. She threw it wide open, leaned out, and inhaled the warm morning sunshine. As usual, she slowly scanned the complex, carefully inspecting each house one by one. When she’d finished with the farthest one—the house where the Slovak family lived—her eyes drifted toward the pool. She was surprised to see something large, resembling an armchair, floating on the surface, presumably some inflatable toy.
“What the heck…?”
Of course, she couldn’t wait. She quickly threw on her satin robe with tulip patterns, slipped on her embroidered slippers bought in Cyprus, and rushed out to get a closer look at the out-of-place object.
“Israel, wake up! You’ll miss your pétanque match!” Ludmilla shook her snoring husband’s shoulder.
A moment later, afraid she was missing something, she leapt toward the bedroom window with surprising agility, defying her age. She curiously poked her head out and quickly looked in all directions. She scanned the terraces first, then the upstairs windows, and finally the upper terraces she could see from her angle. She confirmed that no one else was up yet—except for Günter’s family, or at least no one was outside. She was just about to head to the bathroom when her blood ran cold. At first, she couldn’t even tell what she was seeing. The huge thing floating in the water scared the life out of her. She couldn’t wait a single second—she had to go immediately.
“Daaaaad!” Emily screamed. “Water bus, water bus, water bus, waaaater buuuuus!”
Rob, ripped from his deepest sleep, yelled out in shock. On the other side of the wall, Ted crashed to the floor with a dull thud, having jumped up in fright. A colorful string of swearing followed the fall.
The four-member French-American family stared in terror, holding their breath, in the direction of the sound.
“Water bus,” Emily whispered, barely audible, pointing her little finger toward the window.
“That’s not a water bus!” Ted bellowed at the top of his lungs. “It’s a filthy, inflatable armchair that some hooligan stuffed with all kinds of crap and left in the pool! You got that, Emily?!”
Neither the parents nor the children dared to say a word.
“I’m going to go pop that piece of trash right now, and I’ll burn it on Carlos’s grill—every last bit of it.”
Carlos was just about to lift his coffee to his lips when something huge caught his eye. He set the cup down and shielded his eyes with his hand. He couldn’t understand how that ancient inflatable armchair had come back to life. He had no doubt it was his—no one else would own such a hideous grey-green thing. They hadn’t sold that color in years. He’d probably bought it ten years ago. He’d only inflated it once but immediately deflated it again the moment he saw it fully blown up. Still, he hadn’t had the heart to throw it away. And now, there it was, not only floating but also visibly stuffed with all sorts of objects. He looked at his cup, then shrugged and hurried toward the pool.
Bernard and Noud, each holding a glass of strawberry smoothie, silently stared at the gently bobbing armchair. They weren’t particularly in the mood to join the others, but once everyone else headed over to get a closer look at the floating stranger, they had no choice.
“Shall we check it out?” Noud asked.
Instead of answering, Bernard just shrugged and headed toward the stairs leading to the ground floor.
Adrian and Dajana stepped out of their living room just as the rest of the residents reached the pool. The moment Ted spotted the transparent box, he jumped into the water fully clothed. Carlos’s eyes immediately locked onto the same plastic storage container—stolen from Ted and embarrassingly lost.
“Wait, man, I’ll help you!” Carlos shouted, diving into the salty blue water.
“What the bloody hell is this?” Ted growled, teetering on the edge of madness.
“Shall I come in, boys?” Günter hovered on the stone edge.
He asked mostly out of politeness—he had absolutely no intention of getting wet.
“Oh my God,” Heidi screamed. “The diving suit! The one the burglar was wearing!”
“What burglar?” Pauline gasped, covering her mouth.
“There’s a box tied up with a ribbon too!”
“Nobody touch it!” Carlos shouted nervously.
Too late. Fabian had already launched himself at it with such speed that no one could stop him.
He yanked off the lid, then let out a bone-chilling scream, jumped back, and bolted straight home.
A clown on a spring had popped out of the box, shooting colorful paper balls high into the air.
Viktoria stood on tiptoe and caught one.
“Hey, this has the exact text from my threatening letter!” she exclaimed, delighted.
“Excuse me?” the group roared in unison.
Only Ludmilla and María José trembled silently. They didn’t look at anyone. Heads down, they reached for each other’s hand.