Tunnels

by Lesley Downie

  "Don't be mad, E." I tried to snap him out of it. "I promise not to trip or embarrass you, okay?" It wasn't quite an apology for forgetting, but it was the best I could do. After all, my plans for the day were ruined, so I wasn't in the best mood either. But he is my best friend and I didn't plan on deserting him, no matter how much I'd rather be searching for tunnels.

  He was silent until we got to the country club. "Alright," he grumbled, "let's do this thing."

  As we walked through the door leading to the back of the stage area, I couldn't believe how many people were there. In the crowd backstage I saw the mayor, police chief, and some of the school board and city council people in costumes and getting makeup done. I knew who they were because I videotaped some of the city council meetings a few months ago for credit in my Video Arts class. There were also a couple teachers from my school. It was a riot to see my P.E. teacher, Ms. Roth, in a dress. I thought she was a strictly sweats-and-whistle kind of girl.

  "You two knock 'em dead," Evan's dad said as he disappeared through the door to the auditorium seats.

  I peeked through the curtain while Evan checked us in, and saw the auditorium was almost completely full. Now I had a sick feeling in my stomach as I thought about having to get up in front of all those people. Not sure what I expected, but it definitely wasn't this.

  "There's my mom," he said, pushing me toward her.

  "Katherine! So glad you could join us." Mrs. Schmansinski gave me a big hug. "Okay you two, we need to get you dressed. Let's go over to where Nellie is. She's in charge of the World War Two—"

  "Help!" someone yelled. "Mayor Delaney has collapsed!"

  Collapsed? I started going through the steps of doing CPR. Like I said, two years certified and I'm pretty much a pro. "Come on, E!" I ran to where a group had formed. Squeezing my way between Martha Washington and Abraham Lincoln, I knelt down and screamed at the mayor, "Are you alright?" just like they'd taught me in class. But it fully freaked me out when she didn't say, "Yeah, great," because now I knew I had to show some of my mad paramedic-y skills.

  "What's she doing?" I heard someone ask. Duh. What does it look like I'm doing? Trying to save a life here, lady.

  As far as I could tell the mayor's chest was moving, so I leaned over and put my left ear close to her nose and mouth. Nothing. No sound or breath coming at me. So I got up beside her head and tilted it, but before I did anything else I screamed, "Call nine-one-one!" I know, a little over the top, but when you're saving a life, who cares how loud you are?

  I covered her nose, opened her mouth and blew two breaths. Her chest rose and fell as I did one more for good measure.

  "Looks like her airway's open." Ms. Roth was kneeling beside the mayor now too. "Check the pulse on her carotid."

  Putting two fingers on the artery on the side of her neck, I shuddered when I realized I had to get up close and personal with the mayor again. But I felt nothing. At this point I'd pay someone for a heartbeat. I shook my head at Ms. Roth.

  "Give her two more and I'll start compressions!" Ms. Roth ordered. I blew twice more and then Ms. Roth positioned her hands on the mayor's chest and started pumping up and down. We went back and forth like that for a while before the mayor began throwing up everywhere. It was so sick. Thankfully most of it landed beside her and on Ms. Roth. Otherwise I would've done some sympathy barfing. It was then the paramedics rushed in and took over.

  And who do you think was carrying the defibrillator? You guessed it. When I saw him he almost had to use it on me.

  "Good job, Kat!" David kneeled down with the machine while the other paramedics started taking the mayor's vital signs. She was what Evan calls a hot mess with all the puke on her Betsy Ross costume.

  But at least she was alive.

  Chapter Thirteen

  LOVE NOTES TO THE DEAD

  "Hey!"

  I glanced up and saw David jogging over to me. Evan and I were outside the country club, loading stuff into the car trunk. "I thought you left a while ago." Oh no. Did he see me on stage?

  "Yeah," he nodded. "Dropped my stethoscope so the chief drove me back for it." David held it up and flashed his pearly whites at me. Wow. Now those are some great teeth.

  Of course I had trouble coming up with something to say back so I just nodded my head stupidly.

  "So you're still here, huh?"

  "Yeah," I answered. "The mayor said the show must go on. We're just waiting for his dad to pick come out and drive us home." I nodded my head toward Evan who was busy trying not to act interested as he stacked the stuff in the trunk.

  He kicked at the ground and was quiet for a minute…like when you want to say something but don't know how. "So, we still on for the concert Saturday?" Finally he stared straight at me and I could hardly handle those beautiful blue eyes, all sparkly—and, yes, today they were blue. I can definitely understand when they say you can get lost in someone's eyes.

  Finally I answered. "Definitely. What—"

  I was about to ask him what time, but you know what? He grabbed me around the waist and pulled me in for a hug. Shocked the shenanigans out of me but who am I to complain? And it was a good thing he was hanging on to me because my legs? Yeah, not wanting to support my body at all. Thank goodness Evan's mom had given me a toothbrush and some paste because who wants to smell like the nearly-dead Mayor when you're hugging your crush? My face got all up close and personal (much more fun than with the mayor) with his neck and I breathed in…savoring my first legit moment with a boy. He smelled like tangerines and mint, and I wondered how he could possibly know those were two of my favorite scents. But that's not all. When he pulled back he just stared at me and I could tell one super cool thing…he likes me.

  "Uh…" was all I could say as I just stared back. My keen telepathic powers were trying to send him the fantastic idea to plant one on my cheek. Or my lips. Just a quick one. And all these thoughts are going through my head when I heard it.

  "Ahem."

  Did my supposed best friend seriously just interrupt what was going to be, well would likely be, the best moment of my life so far? I tried to ignore, stared deeply into David's eyes again, telepathic powers nearly burning a hole in my brain.

  "Ahem," he said, louder this time.

  "Dude?" David pulled away and stared at Evan. "Are you serious right now?"

  "My dad'll be out here any minute." His voice sounded all stern as he stared at me and completely ignored David. Mom must have given him private lessons on how to be the General when she's not around.

  "Holy crud, E," I said. "Can't I, as your best friend, have a sec?" I shook my head in disgust.

  "Whatever, Buttercup." Totally showing his back to me now, he continued loading the stuff because of course he'd won. The moment was over. I had to face it. But he would pay, oh yes, he would pay.

  "Sorry about him," I said as I rolled my eyes and grabbed his hand. "What time should I be ready Saturday?"

  He squeezed my hand, which felt fantastic. Not as good as the first best kiss ever, but close. "We'll pick you up around seven. Dad's going to drive us all in the van."

  "Sounds great," I said, and before thinking what I was doing, I began shaking his hand. David laughed but shook back and I heard Evan kind of half snort, half laugh. What an idiot I am.

  "Alright, see you." He hurried off and was gone before I knew it. Which was good, because it kept me from doing or saying anything else stupid.

  I glanced over at the boy who would make sure I'd never have a boyfriend. "Could you be any more of a jerk? Interrupting? Thank you very little, E."

  "Look, girlfriend, we didn't come here for that." He actually did hands-on-hips when he spoke. "You belong to me today, not some junior fireman crush. Besides, you're too young for him."

  "Too young for him? He just turned thirteen and I'll be twelve in December! Plus, remember I'm mature for my age. I didn't do two years of kindergarten like you did."

  "Whatever," he shrugged and laughed.

  A surg
e of adrenaline rushed through me. What an ungrateful jerk. "And I thought giving you the last four hours of my life was enough, but if you're jealous, then I think we need to talk about it."

  "In your dreams," he teased.

  He stared at me for a second, waiting for me to laugh. When I didn't, Mr. Selfish seemed to finally realize how upset I was and put the snarky attitude in reverse.

  "Seriously, Kat, I was just kidding—thanks for coming with me. You totally rocked it in your Rosie the Riveter costume. Almost as fantastic as me." He always thinks he looks fantastic, and I guess he really did look great in that nineteen forties Air Force pilot costume. But it was me whom everybody cheered. On account of saving a human life and all.

  "It was fun," I said, surprising myself when I meant it.

  I started to open the car door when he stopped me. "I told my dad to wait a few 'cause Mom asked me to drop some flowers off at Pops's grave. Will you help?" Now I knew why he'd carted out some of the centerpieces.

  "Sure." I was always up for a good walk in the cemetery. As long as it was daytime. We have some of the oldest known graves on the west coast because the town was settled during the gold rush. When I was younger I'd take white paper and charcoal with me so I could do rubbings of the gravestones. Mom made me stop because she didn't like it when I hung them all over my room. Said it was morbid. My favorite was, "In memory of a spotless life." Not sure what it meant exactly, but I liked the sound of it.

  Another reason I liked the cemetery was because they hadn't leveled the ground like all the new ones you see. There were plenty of hills and old trees everywhere. It's like they just buried people where the caskets fit best.

  "Hey, I meant to tell you. Thanks loads for loaning me the journal."

  "No problem. I know you like old stuff." We stopped at Pops's grave and Evan knelt down to brush away some of the leaves and twigs covering it.

  "Here, let me help," I offered.

  He nodded and I could tell he was trying not to cry. Pops was the best and I knew how much he missed him.

  "So did you read anything interesting in the journal?" He began arranging flowers in the container which was sunk into the ground next to the grave. Then he filled it with water from the vase he'd taken from the fashion show. Most boys would have tossed the flowers in there, not carefully arrange them like he'd been taking tips from that Martha Stewart lady.

  I nodded. "Yeah, I did. Pops said he found a heart painted on the basement wall. I guess his sister Emily was super messed up when her fiancé, George, was drafted. Pops wrote when he went down to the basement one day after Emily had been there, he saw the heart." I pulled the scarf from my hair. It was part of the costume but I'd forgotten to take it off, so I tied it around the flowers. "I didn't even know Pops had a sister."

  "Yeah, Aunt Emily," he said. "She died before I was born. Pops always got so upset when anyone mentioned her, so we just stopped. Mom said Emily enlisted as a nurse in the army and went to Europe. She died when the hospital where she worked was bombed."

  "Wow, that's sad." Pops's journal entry had said how upset Emily was George had been drafted. But how had Emily ended up in Europe? I wondered if the journal would tell me more about it.

  "She's buried somewhere around here," he said as he stood up and rubbed his hands on his jeans to clean off the dirt. "Mom said they planted a jacaranda tree on top of where she was buried. Emily loved the purple flowers that bloom on them. It should be huge by now."

  I glanced around, searching for purple blooms. Most of the trees I saw were pine and maple. Something told me I had to see Emily's grave. "Let's take a walk and see if we can find it."

  Finally, when we'd walked almost the whole outside of the cemetery, we saw it. The purple flowers littered the ground and many were still left on the branches. I could see why Emily liked them so much.

  "How weird," he commented as we got closer. "Somebody left flowers at her grave."

  He was right. And not just any flowers. Someone must have cleaned the florist out of every purple flower they had. Whoever left them must have known Emily well. Why else would they leave purple flowers? And that's not all. There was a note.

  "E, look," I said, pointing to the small note card stuck inside the flowers. "Want me to read it?"

  "This is so weird. If someone's leaving stuff on one of my relative's graves, don't you think we should know who it is?"

  "Yup," I agreed. I read the note out loud:

  My love for you is eternal. I will come to you soon, just as you once tried to come to me. See you on your next birthday.

  "What?" He grabbed the note from me. "Who's in love with my dead aunt?"

  "Don't know," I shrugged, "but whoever it is sounds like they're gonna off themselves on your Aunt Emily's next birthday. Do you know when that is?"

  "Nope. Besides, how would I know?" he asked irritably. "I'm more interested in who this guy actually is."

  I nodded and thought back to what I'd read in the journal. There had to be more clues in there to who this mystery man might be. Emily had been in love with George. It seemed impossible he could be alive after all these years. Is there someone else who'd been in love with her, too?

  I wanted to tell him he should put the note back, but didn't. Wasn't there some kind of punishment for stealing from a grave? Like ten years of bad luck? I shivered and followed him back to the car without saying a word.

  Chapter Fourteen

  A HERO?

  "Honey, where on earth have you been?" Mom was standing in front of the doorway, arms crossed. "I've been worried sick about you for hours!"

  I slammed the car door and walked up the path. What was she doing home? "Sorry, Mom, I forgot to tell you I had to do a fashion show thingy with Evan up at the country club. Besides, I thought you and Dad were gone until late tonight." I stood in front of her, waiting for her to move. She didn't. "Maybe if you'd finally let me get a cell you could track me down when you want to," I reminded her, hoping she'd finally give in and get me one.

  She ignored me. "We had to come home early. Your father started feeling sick to his stomach. I told him not to eat those jalapenos last night. Those things always cause him grief." She reached out and smoothed my hair. "But that's not the point. The point is, the phone's been ringing off the hook since we got home. Everyone's looking for you. The mayor's husband, the newspaper. They say you saved Mayor Delaney's life!" This is when she grabbed me and pulled me close. I fully thought I was about to be grounded again, but instead my OCD, vegan, psycho-general mom was squeezing the life out of me. I had to pull back to get some air. Let's just say Mom's got some girls on her and you can pretty much get lost in them if you're not careful.

  "Kat, Kat, the giant brat," Sam taunted as he raced by us. "You're no hero, you're just queer-o!"

  "Samuel Mark Goldstein," Mom warned, "you apologize immediately. Your sister saved a life today!"

  But of course he was already down the street on his old skateboard—the one without the shoes glued to it. Kid's got serious problems. Mom and Dad better make him pay for it all later. Punish him for a change, the little devil's spawn. I should check to see if horns were sprouting out of his scalp.

  I could hear the phone ringing and then Dad's voice. "Yes, I think she is finally home."

  Mom grabbed my hand and pulled me inside. You're not going to believe what I saw when we got into the kitchen. Tons and tons of flowers and balloons, and a weird-shaped chocolate statue with "YOU'RE NUMBER ONE!" carved into it. But worst of all? Channel four flashing my yearbook photo with the word "Hero" beneath it.

  Triple crud with crud on top. Not my fifth grade picture! It was like over a year ago after a seriously bad home hair straightening job when Mom was in her let's-cut-corners phase. All I'd wanted was to see my hair straight for once. What's wrong with a Brazilian blow-out for your birthday? Let's just say she never tried that again.

  "It's Jack Delaney," Dad whispered with his hand covering the mouthpiece, "he's in Mayor Delaney's hospi
tal room and he wants to speak to you, Kit Kat."

  I couldn't tear my eyes away from the fried-out disaster called my hair. I prayed David wasn't watching. Or Kelley. There are no words for the fear I felt seeing the most embarrassing picture of me ever and knowing everyone else was seeing it, too.

  Mom grabbed the phone and held it up to my ear for me. "Hello?" I said as I pulled it away from her. It's not like I'm three for crying out loud. I've been making phone calls now for like eight years and that was the look I gave her.

  "Katherine," Mr. Delaney said, "thank you so much for saving Dottie's life! Peg Roth said you acted heroically for my Dot. The doctors say she's developed some kind of irregular heartbeat. I don't want to think about what the outcome would have been if you hadn't been there." His voice sounded all choked up and it kind of made me want to cry, too.

  "No problem, Mr. Delaney," I assured him. "But it wasn't only me. Ms. Roth led me through it—"

  "Well that's not what she says." He paused and I could hear the mayor in the background talking to him. "Dot says to mark your calendar for next Friday. The governor's coming to Citrus Grove and Dot wants you and your parents to be there to meet her. It's just a little black tie event and she wants to be able to show off who saved her life. Governor Taylor is a real hoot so you should get a kick out of her."

  Black Tie? The governor? Is he kidding? How was I supposed to act around an actual governor? What should I wear? I don't think they'd like my black boots and tights much.

  "Hello? Are you there?"

  "Oh, yes, Mr. Delaney—"

  "So we'll see you Friday, and Kat?" I heard him blow his nose. "God bless you."

  He didn't wait for me to say anything else and I was glad. I needed time to figure out how to get out of going to this little dinner. What if I had to give a speech? No way. I can feel my sweaty pits now. Getting up in front of people requires massive amounts of deodorant and powder. Even my signature color black would be challenged by keeping the sweat marks away. That's a no-go for this little get-together.