The Girl With Aquamarine Eyes

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The Girl With Aquamarine Eyes Page 21

by Shelley Madden


  She glided down the staircase, while Harmon proudly held her hand. Bonita followed, carrying her matching purse and a stole.

  Tommy watched as the angel floated toward him. He suddenly felt dizzy. Waves of nausea threatened to consume him. They would laugh at him, and call him a geek when he walked into the ballroom with this…Goddess.

  “Hello, Tommy.” Heaven smiled.

  “Good evening.” He swept into a rigid bow, and fought to regain his composure as he stared at his feet. Finally, he inhaled quickly and righted himself. “You look absolutely stunning. For you.” He handed her the flowers. They quaked to and fro in his trembling hands.

  “Why thank you. Bonita, won’t you put them in a vase for me?”

  “No, Heaven,” Harmon whispered, “you wear them.”

  “Oh.” She took the corsage and placed it neatly behind her ear, as she had done with the flowers so many times back on the island. It was rather large and awkward, but very beautiful indeed. She was forced to hold her head at an odd angle though, in an attempt to keep it from falling to the floor.

  Bonita quickly rushed to her aid, and slipped the flowers over her wrist.

  “Heaven, I have something for you.” Harmon pulled an object from his pocket and handed it to Heaven.

  “Oh Harmon, a cell phone!” Heaven smiled, and gave him a hug. “Thank you so much.”

  The entourage swept out the door, and into the night.

  * * *

  Tommy inhaled deeply, as he swept open the double doors which led into the dancehall. He offered his arm for Heaven to grasp. It was now or never. The football jocks were probably already lined up inside, waiting to throw plate after plate of food on him.

  The booming music screeched to a halt as the pair strode down the red carpet. Gasps rippled throughout the crowd. Students rushed forward, and watched the stunning couple move toward the dance floor.

  “Hey, it’s the geek.” A student called out. “He has a date!”

  “Look at her dress.” Another girl added. “It’s to die for.”

  “Way to go, Tommy.” A football player announced, as he eyed Heaven with jealousy. “Wished my date looked like her.”

  Tommy grinned with pride as they reached the dance floor. He couldn’t believe it. Not one morsel of food was being thrown in his direction. Not one foot was stuck out in the aisle in an attempt to trip him. He gazed at Heaven. The ballroom lights lit up her eyes. She simply glowed.

  The music started again. Soon, they were whirling and gliding effortlessly across the floor, as the lights danced around them. A crowd of students gathered to watch the beautiful girl and her handsome date steal the spotlight.

  * * *

  Dr. Killmore impatiently drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, waiting in the cover of darkness for the dance to end. His coffee had long ago grown cold. He tossed the liquid out the window, wadded the cup up and threw it to the floorboard.

  Exhaustion was slowing creeping over him. Preparing the basement for its new visitor after a hard days work had taken its toll. He planned on keeping her in there overnight, and after Tommy arrived home and was sleeping in late in the morning, he’d make his getaway. He’d been up too many hours to leave the state, much less the country tonight. He stifled a yawn. He knew he’d need a good night’s sleep for his plans to fall into place.

  He raised the binoculars and squinted at the front of the ballroom. Shaking his head in impatience, he glanced at his watch. It was nearly midnight. The students would hopefully be coming through the doors any moment. He was ready. He was more than ready. His fingers tingled in anticipation.

  Tonight would be his only chance. The last few days were carefully spent planning each detail. The getaway car waited at home, its gas tank full and the backseat packed with his luggage. The new passports were carefully tucked into its glove box. Dr. White has seen the video, and was too eager to meet up with him once they were safely out of the country.

  A detailed note sat in wait on the kitchen counter, as well as his credit cards and a large sum of cash. Things at home would be taken care of for a long time, until it was safe for him to return. When he did return, he’d be a hero.

  He eased back on the seat, yawned again and waited.

  * * *

  Tommy and Heaven strolled to the refreshment area. A group of teenagers followed them, leaving them little room to breathe.

  Bice and Harmon hung back against the wall, silently watching the pair. Harmon elbowed his nervous assistant. “See, no one has dropped dead. Everything is going to be all right.”

  “The night is not over yet.” Bice took a long drink from his soda. “Far from over.”

  Soon, a teacher walked up to the stage and was handed a microphone. “I’d like to make an announcement, please.” All eyes soon focused on her, as a sweeping wave of silence filtered throughout the dance hall. “The King and Queen for this year’s prom are-drum roll please-Tommy and Heaven!”

  A burning heat crept up Tommy’s face. His heart pounded as he gazed at the crowd watching them, and clapping. The dull roar soon evaporated into silence, but their hands were still moving. This must be a trick. An elaborate hoax the football players had meticulously planned.

  He gazed at Heaven. Afraid to exhale, he held his breath in fear of breaking the trance he must be in. Her aquamarine eyes were filled with excitement, as she stared at the sparkling crowns. He slowly let the air slip from his lungs, and followed her stare.

  The teacher was motioning them to come forward. Her arm moved back and forth in slow motion, beckoning him to come claim his crown. The roar of the crowd would surely shatter the crystal chandelier above the dance floor at any moment.

  He stumbled toward the stage in a dream like haze, all the while waiting to awaken from what surely must be the mother lode of all dreams.

  * * *

  After the dance, Heaven and Tommy stood out front as students and teachers lined up to congratulate them. Harmon and Hawk disappeared behind the gymnasium to bring the car around.

  Students drifted by, slapping Tommy on the back or admiring Heaven’s dress. He beamed proudly as he held her hand tightly. His geekness seemed to be quickly dissipating. He couldn’t wait for school Monday, to revel in the limelight once more.

  He gazed at his beautiful date. The Prom Queen tiara in her hair twinkled and glowed in the city lights, casting prisms of color onto her satin gown. He looked forward to walking into school with pride, his head up and his chest out. He was a new man in the course of a few hours.

  He reached up and felt the crown on his head, still unbelieving he’d been named King. He would be afraid to go to bed later, for fear he’d wake up and find the evening was merely a fairytale. He’d sleep in the crown, that way when he woke he would know it was real. No one had ever paid the least bit of attention to him in school, except to tease him. Now overnight, he was almost a semi-celebrity.

  The crowd around them finally dissipated, leaving them alone on the sidewalk.

  “Miss Prom Queen, thank you for the best night of my life.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Prom King. I can’t wait to see you again.”

  He watched as she reached up and gently touched the sparkling tiara. Her eyes glowed as she smiled at him. A beam of headlights crossed her face, lighting up the crown as it sparkled iridescent beams across her dress.

  “Here’s our car. May I?” He took her hand, swept into a deep bow and guided her to the curb.

  “My pleasure.”

  The dark car pulled alongside them, and Tommy guided his lovely date to the door. A man stepped out, but something was wrong with his face. It had something dark over it, perhaps a mask or paint.

  Before he realized it wasn’t Hawk or Harmon, the man grabbed Heaven from his arms, and threw her into the car. He leapt in behind her in only seconds, and careened away into the darkness.

  Tommy picked up Heaven’s spinning tiara, gazed at the taillights as they faded into the night and screamed.

 
Chapter Nineteen

  Tommy raced after the dark car, still clutching Heaven’s crown. He powered down the center of the street and screamed. Jagged tears blew across his cheeks, only to dissolve in the onslaught of wind.

  Cars veered to miss him, the sound of screeching brakes filled the night air. Other vehicles were forced into a skid, crossing into opposite lanes in an attempt to avoid a deadly collision with the boy.

  The smell of smoking rubber forced its way into his lungs, threatening to choke him. A car was coming directly at him. It skidded away, but the out of control vehicle spun around with a screech. It slid into him and knocked him to the pavement.

  He grasped the fender, pulled himself up and burst after the dark car again. He charged down the street, block after block as motorists shouted at him. Ignoring their obscenities he raced on, gasping for breath as he churned down the black asphalt.

  Finally, he could run no more. He stood in the center of the street, struggling to pull air into his tortured lungs, as burning tears fell.

  “Tommy!” Bice caught up to the boy and pulled the hysterical teenager to the safety of the curb. Tommy struggled against him violently, and tried again to give chase.

  “Tommy, what happened?” Bice gazed in horror at the boy, attempting to hold hi steady. “Tommy, calm down. Talk to me, tell me what happened.”

  “A man…” Tommy moaned. “A man with something over his face…”

  “Tell me now!”

  “We thought it was our car…”

  “Tell me!”

  “He pulled her from the curb…away from me…he threw her into the car…Oh God…we thought it was Harmon and Hawk.”

  Screeching tires drowned out the boys cries. Bice leapt up, and pulled Tommy out of the way once again. A dark car was rushing toward them at such a deadly speed, it would certainly fly over the curb and run them down. At the last moment, it slid to a stop only inches from the stricken pair. Hawk and Harmon burst from the vehicle, and raced toward them.

  “Where is she?” Harmon cried. “Where is Heaven?”

  “Someone took her.” Bice still clutched the hysterical teenager. “Call the police!”

  * * *

  Heaven opened her eyes, and gazed at the unfamiliar surroundings.

  She was in a small room, void of any furniture except the bed which she lay upon. She quickly leapt from it, and staggered across the room.

  She walked around the small area, immediately noticing a smell of dampness. The air was musty and old, as if the room hadn’t been opened in years. A small beam of light from a corner caught her eye. Many pieces of wood had been nailed across the only window.

  She gazed at the ceiling. Large beams crisscrossed above, apparently holding up a house.

  She carefully lifted her gown and walked with determination toward the door. She tried the knob, but it held fast.

  Anger grew from deep within her, threatening to spin out of control as it had never done before. She’d never lost her temper in as many years as she could remember. But, this was ridiculous. How dare anyone destroy what might have been the most memorable night of her life.

  What fool could possibly think he could keep Heaven, newly crowned Prom Queen, hostage? She suddenly remembered, as she reached for the top of her head.

  It was gone. Her tiara was gone.

  She bristled in anger as she gazed at the locked door. No one, absolutely no one, would take her tiara and live to see the morning light.

  Not only was her crown missing, but she knew she was about to ruin her new dress. She’d have no choice if she wanted to escape. She was certain there were no accommodations within the hellish prison which would enable her to dash into a closet for a quick change of clothes.

  She’d tried learn patience in the short time she lived at Harmon’s estate. She felt she’d done a pretty good job. Well, most of the time. But there were circumstances which she felt she should be allowed to loose her temper. This was certainly one.

  She backed slowly away from the door. She stared at it several moments, sizing it up carefully. Finally, she ran at it with intense anger and leapt at it with every ounce of strength she could manage.

  Her legs plunged through the door, shattering the wood into a million splinters. She hit the floor and recoiled in horror as she glanced at her legs. Fighting stinging tears, she studied the damage she’d inflicted upon herself in her moment of rage. She’d torn her lovely dress and broken her heel.

  In a blind fury, she reached through the hole in the wood and quickly unlocked the door.

  A dimly lit staircase lay before her, dabbles of yellow lights flickered from above. A long corridor beyond the landing seemed to lead to the main house. She could only hope whomever had the bad sense to treat her this way was fully prepared to face her wrath.

  She kicked off her broken shoes and stormed up the stairs. She would find the person who had dared wreck her Prom, and caused her to ruin her new one-of-a kind designer gown.

  * * *

  Harmon, Bice and Hawk arrived home in silence. They’d followed Tommy home, and made sure the boy would be all right. But he was far from it. The teenager was devastated.

  Bice closed the door to his suite. He laid on his bed in a stupor for what seemed like hours. He closed his eyes and thought of Heaven. He never realized when he started caring about her. But somewhere along the line, he had. She’d stolen his heart as she’d stolen Harmon’s.

  Harmon wasn’t faring well in Heaven’s absence. He could hear the singer in his suite across the hall, intermittently wailing and throwing things. A cry floated across the hall, followed by a loud crash as the musician tossed another piece of furniture out the window. Bice glanced at his watch. At this rate, Harmon’s suite should be near empty by now.

  He’d tried to console the musician, but was greeted instead by a wild-eyed lunatic who held a rather large stereo speaker raised above his head, its tangle of wires dangling to the floor. He made a beeline right back out, the moment before the speaker crashed into the back of the door.

  Heaven’s temper paled in comparison to Harmon’s outburst. Her air of innocence in the stale household was refreshing. The mansion had never heard the ring of teenage laughter until now. She’d gallantly learned as much as she could about the things she’d missed out on, in the short time she occupied the estate.

  She’d made unbelieving fools of them all by bringing their fates to a screeching halt. By all intents and purposes, he knew he’d have been dead at this very moment. Especially if Harmon had hit him with the speaker.

  He thought of his brother. God, how he missed the boy. Stinging tears fell from his eyes to the pillow below. The vision of Heaven’s aquamarine eyes burned in his mind. She was crying out, begging him to come help her. As his brother had that fateful day.

  He stared at the phone. He’d ring Bonita to bring up a case of beer and drown in his sorrows. His life’s mistake. The blasted nagging beer which would succumb to nothing.

  The worthless can of hell. How he wished he’d never set eyes on the golden liquid of death when he was a teenager.

  He found himself in front of the bedroom window, never realizing he’d slipped out of bed. If he must, he’d stand there all night, until traces of morning light could be seen in the horizon.

  * * *

  Heaven quietly ascended the staircase.

  Following the only light down the long hallway, she peered around the corner into the kitchen. A man wearing a white smock was sitting at the kitchen table, his back to her. A steaming cup of coffee sat nearby. He appeared to be writing a note. On the far counter, a stack of money sat neatly.

  She silently walked up behind him and stared fire into the back of his head. She watched his shoulders rise and fall quietly, oblivious as to what lie in wait behind. He sipped his coffee, and gazed out the window.

  She would wait no more. Patience was not a virtue of hers, she was not about to learn it now. She tapped the big man on the shoulder.

  He fr
oze in place and eased the paper down as if it were made of crawling insects. He stood up, hesitated momentarily and slowly turned around.

  Heaven stared at the man, her eyes ablaze. “Where the hell is my Prom Queen tiara?”

  “ How did you get out?” He stood tall and rigid, but a single bead of sweat materialized on his forehead as he stared incredulously at her.

  “It’s you!” She slowly backed away from him. “The doctor from the hospital, Dr. Killpeople.”

  “Dr. Killmore.” He waggled his finger at her, and puffed up in a menacing way.

  She wasn’t fooled. She wriggled her hand under his nose. The moment he stared at it, with the swiftness of a snake she slapped him. He lurched back in surprise, and rubbed his stinging cheek. Obviously angered, he slowly moved toward her.

  “Come to me. Let’s get you back where you belong.”

  “Look what you’ve done to my dress, you moron!” She stuck her leg toward him, and pointed at the large rip down the side. The moment his gaze fell upon it, she kicked him in the groin.

  He cried out in anguish, the color slowly draining from his face. He staggered backward, clutched himself and grasped the table until his knuckles whitened. He struggled several moments to regain his composure.

  “You won’t need a pretty dress like that, now come to me.”

  He moved toward her again. Slowly, he backed her into the corner of the kitchen. He reached out for her, his hand moving straight toward her neck.

  She had no where to go. His towering figure seemed impenetrable. She gazed around hopelessly, her back pressed to the wall. She was trapped. She had no choice. In a blind fury, she leapt at him.

  * * *

  “Dad, I’m home!” Tommy cried from the doorway. “Something awful happened!”

  He’d cried until his head throbbed. Heaven’s tiara was still clutched in his palm, Harmon had been unable to wrench it from him.

  “Dad? Where are you?”

  A deafening crash reverberated from the kitchen. He froze in place, fearing a prowler was in their home. Shaking, he slipped quietly toward the hall closet. Easing the door open in silence, he grabbed his baseball bat and raced down the hallway toward the source of the noise. He burst through the door with the weapon raised high in the air.

 

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