· THE HOOK ·

Donald and Sarah went to the movies. Then they went for a ride in Donald’s car. They parked up on a hill at the edge of town. From there they could see the lights up and down the valley.

Donald turned on the radio and found some music. But an announcer broke in with a news bulletin. A murderer had escaped from the state prison. He was armed with a knife and was headed south on foot. His left hand was missing. In its place, he wore a hook.

“Let’s roll up the windows and lock the doors,” said Sarah.

“That’s a good idea,” said Donald.

“That prison isn’t too far away,” said Sarah. “Maybe we really should go home.”

“But it’s only ten o’clock,” said Donald.

“I don’t care what time it is,” she said. “I want to go home.”

“Look, Sarah,” said Donald, “he’s not going to climb all the way up here. Why would he do that? Even if he did, all the doors are locked. How could he get in?”

“Donald, he could take that hook and break through a window and open a door,” she said. “I’m scared. I want to go home.”

Donald was annoyed. “Girls always are afraid of something,” he said.

As he started the car, Sarah thought she heard someone, or something scratching at her door.

“Did you hear that?” she asked as they roared away. “It sounded like somebody was trying to get in.”

“Oh, sure,” said Donald. Soon they got to her house.

“Would you like to come in and have some cocoa?” she asked.

“No,” he said, “I’ve got to go home.”

He went around to the other side of the car to let her out. Hanging on the door handle was a hook.