Entanglements (9 page)

At least Mom didn’t interrogate him. She did however, bring up my stepfather and his deployment to Iraq as if the fact he had access to guns would intimidate Rom out of trying anything funny.

Rom accepted it all with his signature twist of a smile, assuring Mom my care would be of “preeminence” to him. With Mom’s admonition to be home by 10 p.m. and “have fun, honey,” we were finally out the door.

Outside a red and rust Mustang, probably 1980s vintage, sat at the curb.

“My chariot awaits.” Rom made a sweeping arm gesture toward the car.

“Wow,” I exclaimed running toward the Mustang. “I didn’t know you had your license already.”

What a dumb thing to say
, I thought. Talk about stating the obvious. Duh.

“I have attained my sixteenth year,” Rom said with a smile.

We both reached for the passenger door handle at the same time, but Rom beat me to it. Opening the door, he waited while I got inside before he closed it after me. I have to admit it made me feel pretty special.

A short drive later, we came to a stop in the parking lot of Forsyth Park. Rom twisted toward me in the seat.

“I am thinking we dine in the air.” He pointed to the picnic basket in the back seat.

“You mean al fresco?”

He grinned. “Just so.”

Grinning back I threw my hands up. “Sounds great to me.”

The fast setting sun just peaked over the tree line as we walked down the center of the park, talking about school. Rom laughed about an incident in his math class and I noted that I’d almost received detention in science class. We made our way past the civil war monument at the park’s center, and then veered off eastward toward the band shell area.

A few people jogged the perimeter of the park. A dozen or so sat lounging on the grass or were milling about on the interior sidewalks. But as no music activities were taking place tonight, our destination was relatively empty. The band shell was situated with a fountain at its front shooting water in two separate arcs. Along the backside was a concrete building known as the Fort, which had been used for troop maneuvers during WWI and now housed a visitor center and a coffee shop.

The stage, defined by a semi-circle of columns and topped by a white sail shaped roof, was vacant. After proceeding onto the stage, Rom placed the picnic basket down, opened it and took out a blanket, which he then spread out for us to sit on. The rest of the basket's contents consisted of drinks, sandwiches and chips. I might have spotted brownies in there too. We made short order of unpacking the food and drink.

The western sky went pink and gold as the sunset.

“Where are you from?” After taking a sip from a soda can, I nibbled on the sandwich. Tuna.

Rom didn’t answer. He merely stared down at the blanket under us, tracing the geometric pattern that covered it with his index finger.

After a few seconds I broke the silence.

“What’s the matter? Is the information classified or something? If so, I’m cool with it.”

“I lack understanding of this phrase 'I’m cool with it.'” Rom glanced up at me.
 
You say you are cold?” He made a motion to stand. “My jacket will assist.”

“No.” I laughed and waved him back into a sitting position. “I’m cool with it means that it’s okay. If you don’t want to tell me where you’re from, it’s fine.”

“Accord.” He nodded. “But no secret exists. My country is known as Augustinia. I live in the great city of New Rome.”

“You mean you used to live there. You live here now.”

He seemed surprised by my words. After a few seconds his expression cleared. “Accord."

I searched my memory but came up with nothing.

“I never heard of Augustinia.”

“Many a place exists of which you lack awareness,” Rom said picking up a second sandwich.

“You’re probably right about that.” I played with the chain around my neck. “I never was much good at geography.

“The necklace you wear. The design has familiarity.” Rom took a bite and chewed. My goodness he was handsome even when he chewed.

“Yes.” I pulled it from my cleavage to show the swirling circle metal disc at the end. “It’s where I got part of the design for my tag.”

“Tag?”

“The symbol I use to mark when I’m spelunking. It’s a big K with this counterclockwise swirl on the end.”

“There is appearance of age in the necklace,” he observed.

“My grandmother gave it to me when I was five, just before she died. The charm belonged to her mother—my father's grandmother.” My voice choked on the word father. Tears burned my eyes and I blinked them away.

Rom dropped the sandwich and curled his hand around mine, tangling our fingers together. In amazement I stared at him as he bent his head and brought my hand to his mouth. His soft lips gently brushed against my skin and I had to blink hard again to keep tears from falling, this time for a different reason.

Still clasping my hand, Rom leaned toward me and pressed his lips to mine in a soft caress. I’d never been kissed before. At least not by someone who wasn't related to me...And certainly not by a gorgeous guy.

Hoping I was doing it right, I held my breath and closed my eyes. Tingles radiated from my lips outward in my body like a sunburst as his mouth moved on mine. Then it was over.

Pulling back, we smiled at one another. Rom retrieved his sandwich and took another bite, chewing and smiling at the same time.

I rushed into conversation to cover my awkwardness.

“I wonder how the crew are doing with the race.”

He swallowed. “They have not gone to the hospital, I think.”

“No, they’ve gone to the railroad roundhouse.” I picked up my sandwich, but couldn't take a bite. Too many butterflies inhabited my stomach and there was no room for more tuna.

“Excellent.” Rom bit into the sandwich again. After he swallowed, Rom smiled again and it soon turned to a grin. “This dining together has more pleasure than spelunking.”

He seemed way too pleased with himself.

“Yes,” I said tentatively. “But you really can’t compare—”

“The spelunking leads to injury.” He took a bite of sandwich and chewed. He gestured toward my leg. “This continues to cause pain?”

“Not really.” I wasn't sure where this but I didn't like it.

“You do not spelunk again, I think.”

“Huh?”

“You do not spelunk,” he said.

“Do you want Pepperoni with that?”

“I lack understanding of pepperoni.” Rom lost his smile.

“Well, since you were issuing orders I thought I would check.”

“I do not want you hurt again,” Rom said. “This is preference. So I ask you to dine.”

Did he mean what I thought he meant?

"So this is a pity date?" I felt my lips compress in an angry line. “That’s quite generous of you.”

Rom blinked and swallowed hard. "I understand not.”

“I’m talking about this favor you’ve done me. Asking me out on this date so I wouldn’t get hurt again.”

He held up a hand. “You lack understanding.”

“No, I think I understand you perfectly.” Throwing down my napkin, I rose. “I’m not anyone’s charity case. You can take your favor and go cram yourself down the nearest manhole.”

Rom leaped to his feet.

“In fact, I think I’ll just go on a little spelunk right now.” I extracted the phone from my purse and quickly texted Senji for his location. Spinning on my heel, I stomped away.

“Kizzy!” Rom shouted coming along beside me. “You lack reason.”

“If I’m unreasonable, why don’t you just go home and leave me to my own business.” I marched toward the park’s perimeter.

Chapter Six

At home I slammed the door behind me. Mom came running.

“Honey, what—”

“We had a fight.” Taking the steps two at a time I shouted back over my shoulder. “I don’t want to talk about it.” I closed my bedroom door with a loud crash and threw myself onto the bed, fuming.

“Creep! How dare he …” not be totally infatuated with me. “Charity case am I?” True his concern about me getting injured again was kind of sweet and he had followed me all the way to our front door on foot. But still I didn’t want a pity date. And what about the kiss? Had that been pity too?

My phone pinged and the face bore a text from
Senji: @ d hsptl
.

“Those idiots.” I texted back:
Dnt go n.

Jumping up, I toed off my sandals and crammed on my sneakers. I didn’t want to take the time to fully change my clothes. This would be the first time I’d been spelunking in a dress. But what if the stupid tunnel collapsed in on them before I could get there? My jacket with gloves and flashlight in the pocket hung on the back of the desk chair. I grabbed the jacket, pushed my arms through it and then bolted out the window.

Each minute it took to reach the hospital seemed like an hour even though I ran the entire way. When I got there, I didn’t see Petra, Senji or any of the crew. None of the BQs seemed to be around either. I'd received no text from Senji, so I tried calling. No answer. Petra. No answer.

I hopped the front fence, not taking the time to go all the way to the gate. Something drew my attention to a wrought iron banister near the hospital’s south east wall. The area of the tunnel’s entrance was under this banister unless I’d been completely turned around the night before last night.

On investigation, I found a cardboard planking that, when pulled back, revealed a short flight of narrow concrete steps leading down to an arched entry about four feet in height. The wood door, much of it rotting, wobbled loosely when I rattled the knob, but the lock held.

Bracing my hands against the concrete walls of the stairwell, I brought my foot up and rammed a kick against the door. The wood adjacent to the old lock split. Another kick and it splintered, leaving a hole large enough for my hand—without gloves—to get through.

I felt inside for the lever on the metal box containing the skeleton key lock. When I finally, found it, I heard the tiny click, which signaled my success. Upon opening the door, I found myself in an alcove leading into a familiar corridor.

Hearing no noise around me, I texted Senji:
Am hre. U@?

A new text pinged back:
gr8.

Did that indicate happiness at my arrival or his location at the grate entrance to the tunnel? Dammit.

As I made my way to the grate, the flashlight beam abruptly began to flicker and I slowed my pace. Hitting the end of the stupid thing with the butt of my palm brought the flickering to a stop. I tripped over something underfoot causing me to stumble and crash to a kneeling position on the hard floor in the midst of a puddle.

Carefully, I rose and examined myself. At least the dress wasn't soaked, merely a bit damp along the hem. However, the bandage on my shin was a total loss so I peeled it off and tossed it down. After retrieving the flashlight, I continued on to the grate. Once there I saw the barest of lights visible from below through the slats. I heard voices shouting at one another. Although I couldn’t make out the words, I recognized Senji and Franky, and at least two others.