And to make it even better, Kelley's girls, led by BFF Ashley, couldn't help it. They laughed, and so for the first time ever, I laughed with them. Best part of it all? She actually reached up and felt the top of her head, which was totally hilarious. It was a thrilling sight to see the fury on her face. She was just about to come back at us when the server barged through the pom-pom group with our pizza. Not that they had pom-poms tonight, but I'm sure they carried them around a lot more often than they cracked a book.
Her crew calmed down when they realized how completely done Kelley was, and I heard her say the b-word as they walked away, but what did I care? It actually surprised me they left so easily, and I wondered if we'd be hearing more from them tonight. We all know Kelley never gives up until she wins.
"This is the best," I said as I took a huge bite of my favorite pizza, half full of jalapenos and pineapple. "You should try a piece," I urged him as he bit into his Meat Lovers slice. Meat doesn't belong on pizza, but if that's the worst I can say about him, no biggie.
"Okay—you gonna give me a bite of yours?" he asked.
I almost choked. Definitely not a buddy activity. But he didn't wait for me to answer. He just got up and came around to sit right next to me in the booth.
Did you catch that? Right. Next. To. Me.
Just the right temp before, the room was way too warm now (on account of the cute guy next to me, of course). Why couldn't our table be farther away from the fireplace? What if the sweat began dripping down my face or I started smelling oogey even though I'd used extra deodorant?
"I'm ready!" But instead of opening his mouth for a bite, he leaned in and kissed my cheek and threw his arm over my shoulder. I have to say the we-are-officially-hanging-out-together feeling is the best feeling ever! And if it wasn't for all the whistling and giggling from Kelley and her crew, it would have been perfect. Now everyone in the place was staring at us.
"Don't worry about them." He picked up my pizza and took a bite before handing it to me. "That is good—but I think I'll stick to all-meat-all-the-time with my food choices." He laughed then, and I leaned into him before he got up and moved across from me again. The smell of soap and a freshly showered boy was probably the best smell of all.
"You've had a big month," he joked. "So why don't you tell me what you do other than falling down holes, saving the mayor's life, and discovering secret tunnels with my great uncle who I thought was dead?" He flashed those great dimples at me.
What could I say that wasn't totally boring to a perfect boy? It's not like I've had a lot (none) of practice at this sort of thing. But I wanted him to know the everyday me so he could decide if he liked me. And now that I'm twelve (woo-hoo finally had my birthday!), he can get to know the mature me. Say goodbye to undies with unicorns and puppies on them.
"Okay, you asked, so if you start to get drowsy, let me know." I reached over and took a sip of root beer before I began. "I like everything about the nineteen forties, even though the world was at war. I love music of the eighties, because my mom and dad have a lot of old albums from then. But my favorite is Indie music like The Black Keys—" I stopped, sad for a second we hadn't gone to see them together.
"By the way…I didn't go to the concert," he said.
"Seriously?"
"Yup. Didn't want to go without you."
My heart started beating super-fast now. He does like me.
"So what else?" he asked.
And he wants to know more. Guess I hadn't bored him yet. "Well you already know my brother, Sam, loves to torment me and get me in trouble. I can't think of much good to say about him, except that he did finally tell the truth about pretending he was me. Which I guess takes him out of the evil zone even though it was his fault in the first place. We call Mom 'the General' and she's always making disgusting casseroles for dinner. Dad likes vinyl records and has no clue how to download music. I also like books and libraries and could spend all day in one, as long as I have some PB and Js to hold me over."
Well, he's still sitting there. So I threw in my last detail, the most important one of all which describes me, I think. "I also plan on discovering a lost civilization because I want to be a famous archaeologist." I kept the knowledge of the lizard people to myself. He'd learn soon enough.
"Well? What do you think?" I asked when he still hadn't spoken.
"I think I better get a library card if I want to see much of you," he laughed. But it wasn't like he was laughing at me. I could tell he was being sweet, and I'm not sure I could think of a much better feeling. It was a new level of feeling good inside, one I wasn't sure what to do with. For once I kept my mouth shut and believed that things were near perfect.
"I also think," he said, "that I have something important to ask you."
His eyes were staring into mine and I felt squirmy for a minute. Did I have pizza sauce on my face? Was there some weird booger thing in my nose? But I fought the urge to run to the bathroom for a quick mirror check, and waited for whatever it was he was going to say.
And then it happened.
"Want to hang out together, like, more?"
My dream. Here. With him. What more could a twelve-going-on-thirteen-in-eleven-and-a-half-months-year-old girl ask for? On top of that, Mom and Dad had officially told me they liked him and thought he was a "nice little friend." Although Dad told me, "I just happened to mention to David the night at the hospital that I'm a CIA operative. Told him if he wanted to stay clear of the pokey he'd best mind his manners with you. Otherwise I'd go Double-O-Seven on him if I have to." It was hard to picture Dad as James Bond, and it was even harder to picture why David was still sitting here after that conversation. Totally embarrassing Dad's law enforcement vocabulary was straight out of old westerns and James Bond movies.
"Well?" he asked.
"Totally," I answered. Finally I wasn't afraid of boogers and food on my face.
"Come on," he said, "let's go wait outside until my family is done eating." We stood up and he held his hand out to me. I grabbed on and we didn't let go as we walked past the staring eyes of Kelley and friends, and for the first time, I didn't care what they thought.
Outside, the evening air was perfect, not too cold, not too hot. When we got to the Perkinses' SUV, he handed me a small cloth bag he'd pulled from his pocket. "Uncle George said to go ahead and give this to you."
The bag was black velvet, the kind you would use to store special things. The initials E.V. were embroidered on it in gold thread. Emily's initials. I ran my hand across the stitching and then loosened the gathered opening. Peeking inside, I was only partly shocked by what I saw. I poured the contents into my other hand and stared for a minute, taking it all in. It was like being told you'd won the lottery. Bones and teeth, sharp and pointed, sat in my hand. They were yellowed from age and seemed ancient…and I wondered how Emily had come to have them. A familiar rush of excitement went through me like it always did whenever I was on the verge of being a part of huge-osity. I felt honored in a way, like I was chosen. Guess George was ready for me to finish what Emily started. Once and for all we needed to find out if the lizard people were real.
"Looks like somebody needed to see a dentist," David said. "Is this your big secret?"
"Maybe."
I didn't want to talk about it yet, and I sure didn't want to mess up what was happening between us right now. Plus, my memory of what I'd seen in the tunnels wasn't so clear anymore. I poured the pieces back into the bag and peered up at him. This could wait. Tonight I would just enjoy being with him. The door to Antonio's opened and the Perkinses came out laughing. But I didn't take my eyes off of him.
David nodded, dimple-flashed me, and reached around to open the car door for us. But before I climbed in, he grabbed my hand again and said, "Later's good. We've got plenty of time."
About the Author
Lesley Downie divides her time between writing, work, and family in Redlands, California, the very place where her current story began so long ago when
she was a kid running over and under the historical streets of her hometown. Tunnels is Lesley’s second novel.
Also from Astraea Press
Prologue
He bent down to the ground, lungs burning from exhaustion and terror. This couldn’t be happening. Not after everything they’d gone through.
With shaking fingers, Asher moved the ginger hair stuck to the girl’s face. Losing her was not an option — not this girl he had grown to care about despite his best efforts to avoid it. Her lifeless body screamed at him for help, which he tried but failed to give. He had done everything he knew to do, and it wasn’t good enough.
Asher fell back on the ground, not taking his eyes away from her. There had to be something he could do. He couldn’t let her die out here. He loved her too much.
Chapter One
Early Friday Morning: Four days before…
Asher Jenkins shouldn’t have been in the church van. He was neither religious nor a church member, two qualities everyone else on the trip shared. Asher knew all too well there were worse places he could be, much worse places, and that realization put him in the seat next to his best friend, Sid.
Sid’s brother, Pastor David, drove the van filled with eight teenagers and two other chaperones, heading from small Grant, Georgia to a weekend of hiking and fellowship in the mountains of East Tennessee.
It had been a long ride, giving Asher plenty of time to think. When that happened, his mind wandered to unpleasant things he’d rather forget. He leaned against the window, felt the cool glass on his forehead, and wondered what he’d gotten himself into.
“Are we there yet?”
“Seriously?” David Andrews laughed from the driver’s seat of the dark gray, fifteen-seat van. “Are we two?”
“Sid is,” Asher smiled, glancing at his friend.
“Et tu, Asher?” Sid said with mock horror, causing Asher’s smile to broaden. He leaned over the seat and yelled at David. “Hey brother, if you’re tired, I can always drive for you. Just sayin’.”
“One, if I needed a break, I’d let Susan drive,” he said, motioning to the forty-something, bottle blonde riding in the shotgun seat. Asher had only met her right before the trip, and her voluptuous physical appearance reminded him of a certain larger than life country singer, in a good way.
“And two,” David went on, “you just got your license last week. No way are you driving this brand new van, rental or not. Mrs. Reba would kill me.”
“Mrs. Reba will never know.”
“She will if you wreck it, and I have to grovel before the church treasurer, begging for mercy,” David said with a hint of laughter in his voice.
David had an easy-going personality, one that drew you in. He was a very likeable person, a fact that he used to his advantage when talking about God and salvation. Asher appreciated the fact that David never pushed either on him. All in all, he liked David. The youth pastor never gave him a reason not to like him. In fact, Asher had spent more time at David’s house hanging out with Sid than his own. His aunt didn’t mind him being gone so much. She seemed to prefer it.
“Party pooper,” Sid moaned and propped his knees up on the seat in front of him. They sat in the second row of seats on the right side of the van. A narrow aisle separated each side.
The Andrews brothers were close even if they were eight years apart. David’s hair had an Old World look to it: a slight pompadour-style poof in the front. Sid’s was brown, a few shades lighter than Asher’s. But unlike Asher’s, which fell a little over his ears and needed a trim, Sid’s was a curly mess. Older brother David was an all-American looking guy, and Sid… well Sid wasn’t.
Sidney’s eyes were the same color as Asher’s — sky blue. Unlike Asher, though, Sid wore much needed, black-rimmed glasses. Sid wasn’t a nerd in any way, shape, or form. But he hadn’t been blessed in the looks or sight department like his brother or Asher had been.
One thing Sid and David did have in common was their trip attire. Everyone in the van looked about the same. Sure, their clothes varied in color, but they all had big, bulky coats and hiking boots.
Asher was the exception. His decision to go on the trip was very last minute, and he didn’t have time to shop or plan. What he had came from David. Asher’s black leather jacket didn’t scream “hiking trip”, and his black boots weren’t of the hiking quality. At least he had a long sleeved shirt on, even if it was just a regular white one and not a warm, sweater type. He knew he stuck out like a sore thumb, and he tried not to care.
With his head against the window and his eyes closed, Asher blissfully heard Sid click off the overhead light and settle back down in his seat. Maybe he’d go to sleep for a little while. Asher sure hoped so. He loved Sid like a brother, but that boy could talk a person’s ear off. The topic of conversation all through the night had been Sid’s messy break-up with fellow traveler, Carly Jones, a few days before.
Hearing his friend’s breathing ease, Asher peeked under his eyelashes. Sure enough, Sid slept, his head lulled to the side. Now that Sid had turned off the dim but annoying light, Asher could see that only one or two others were awake. For a van full of teenagers, it was quiet. Of course, it was just 6:00 a.m.
David manned the wheel, and Asher hoped he was wide awake and full of caffeine. In addition to the youth pastor, he saw a light coming from some sort of electronic device; a computer tablet or e-reader, a row back on the other side of the van. Curious, he rose up a bit to see over his seat. Whatever it was gave off enough light to see that it was a girl. He thought her name was Rachel.
****
Rachel Harker’s mind wasn’t on sleep. It was on the hike, and how she had gotten talked into going. She had known about the hiking trip ever since Pastor David mentioned it two months earlier during youth service. At the time, she didn’t want to go. Even though the Smokies were only an eight-hour drive away from home, she hadn’t been in years. Returning to the mountain at some point in time had been a dream of hers, but it didn’t feel right without her father.
Her mom had been the one to talk her into going, and deep down, Rachel knew she needed it. She needed a vacation away from home, but found the farther the van got from Georgia, the more guilt she felt. The guilt kept her awake, idly flipping through the books on her e-reader, not paying attention to any of them.
At around 6:00 a.m., Rachel could see the first glimpse of mountains silhouetted against the beginnings of an early morning sunrise. The dull pink and radiant oranges forming in the sky around the peaks stood out in stark contrast to the dark mountains. A few red wisps, the color of Rachel’s curly long hair, began to filter through the skyline.
Rachel closed her eyes and tried to remember the last time she had seen that type of sunrise. It had been nine years since her family had gone on vacation in Gatlinburg, the small town right under the mountain. Before dawn on their last morning there, her dad woke her up to watch the sunrise from their hotel room balcony.
To her seven-year-old eyes, it was magical. Her sixteen-year-old eyes saw beauty in it as well but not like before; not like she had witnessed with her father.
Rachel shook her head, trying to get those once-happy, now painful memories out of her mind. To her right her best friend, Carly, snored away; a fact Rachel knew would mortify the brunette beauty. She had no doubt that someone would make the mistake of aggravating Carly about her loud sleeping, and that person would probably be her ex — Sid.
Bored, Rachel flipped through her books again, trying to find something worth reading. As she scanned, she had a sense that someone was watching her. She glanced up just in time to catch a glimpse of Sid’s friend, Asher, turning back around.
****
“Almost there,” David announced to the insomniac few like himself.
“So, that means we can come back to the land of the living, right?” The familiar echo of Sid’s voice bellowed, letting Asher know that his precious quiet had ended.
“I’m just happy that you aren’t snor
ing anymore.” Asher grinned, looking out the window at the mountains.
“The rumors of my snoring have been greatly exaggerated,” Sid said as he turned on the overhead light, causing Asher to flinch and fight the urge to smack him.
“Yes, to answer your question, brother, you can turn on the light. Although, your fellow travelers might want to bless you out — and not in the most Christian of ways —for blinding them at this most unpleasant hour.”
“Can I volunteer?” Asher asked, only half kidding.
Sid shook his head at Asher and said to his brother in the driver’s seat, “They’ll get over it.” He stretched his arms over his head and adjusted his staple, never-left-behind red cap. Asher didn’t think he’d ever seen him without it and probably never would. The biker dude on that fifties-based show his grandma used to watch had his leather jacket. Sid had his ugly red cap. It was the way of the world.
“Wouldn’t be so sure of that,” David chuckled as others woke up in not great moods and began throwing things at Sid.
****
Fall in the Great Smoky Mountains brought millions of people to the otherwise rustic region to drive up the mountain, hike the trails, visit Cades Cove, go to the famous theme park, or just do some Christmas shopping in the cities of Pigeon Forge and Gatlinburg. They were drawn to the mountains for the splendor of the colorful leaves adorning and then falling off the trees. Around October, the trees turned from deep green to bright yellow, burnt orange, and brilliant red hues. It wasn’t surprising that most people visited the mountains during early fall, which was precisely why David hadn’t planned their trip for October. “Too many people,” he said.
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