Miles

by Melissa R. L. Simonin

  All the way back through the cave and back to the castle, I couldn’t help being relieved that Miles was still here.

  I ought to be prepared for him to go, considering accomplishing that was the goal since the day we met. And yet we’d become such great friends, the thought of losing him grew more horrible with each passing day.

  I was completely at war with myself. The selfish side wanted to quit searching. The unselfish side, the one that cared more about Miles than about myself, wanted to keep searching and track down the proof I knew on a gut level was out there waiting for me to find it.

  The unselfish side was going to win, but not today. Today, both sides were relieved to have a little more time.

  We climbed the front steps and went straight to Mission Control.

  “What do you say we take another break from searching for the rest of the day?” suggested Miles.

  My sentiments exactly!

  “Sounds like a great idea,” I replied.

  Miles opened the safe which was hidden behind a moving bookcase, and I put the bag with the jewels and the handbill inside. Miles closed the safe and moved the bookcase back in place.

  “You know…” Miles said. “That was a lot harder than I expected it to be.”

  “Moving the shelf?” I asked.

  Miles laughed.

  “No, not moving the shelf! I meant, when I thought we were about to succeed. When I thought we found proof.”

  “Yeah, I know what you mean,” I said. “I feel very guilty that I’m glad you’re still here.”

  “Me too,” said Miles.

  “It’s just... you’re the best friend I’ve ever had. You are so easy to talk to, and funny, and I can’t imagine what I’m going to do when you’re gone,” I said. “But, I don’t want you stuck here for my sake. We do have to keep searching. And yet, I’m glad today wasn’t the day we found proof.”

  Miles nodded.

  “I feel the same way… if I could talk to you forever, I’d be perfectly content. But I worry about you, that I’m your only friend right now.”

  Miles flinched when I took a whack at him, which made us both laugh, since of course I can’t actually touch him.

  “I know you’re sick of your Mom telling you that you ought to go make some friends. But she’s right, and I can’t stand the thought of you being alone in the future. I’m selfish enough though, to be glad I’m still here, and that we can be friends for a little while longer.”

  I sighed.

  “I can tell you right now, there isn’t another person out there that’s going to fit me as a friend as well as you do. But fine, I will make an effort to make some solid friends.”

  “It sounds like Jenny would make a good one,” said Miles.

  “She probably would. I’ll try to invest some time in that.”

  “Okay, good,” said Miles. “Then I won’t worry about you.”

  “Okay, good, because there’s nothing that bugs me more than someone worrying about me!” I said. “You just watch it Mister, or I’ll stay up all night looking for proof!”

  Miles laughed at that, and I laughed with him.

  We spent the rest of the day talking and played a few games of checkers. It was growing on me. Although I can’t imagine wanting to play it with anyone else.

  The time came for Chip and I to head home, and Miles and Trixie walked with us. Someday we’d each lose our best friend, but at least today was not that day.

  Chapter 15

  Mom’s talk made me think, but the experience in the cave convinced me. She and Miles were both right. I needed to add some new relationships to my life, otherwise I was going to curl up and die, assuming Miles moved on, once we cleared him. I might curl up and die anyway, but I needed to at least try to build some friendships to fall back on.

  So when I ran into Jenny in town as I was running an errand for Mom, I accepted when she invited me for another game night. It wasn’t really my thing, but it was something.

  At seven-thirty on Sunday night, I arrived at the Bean There, Bun That and searched for a place to park. The spaces in front were taken, so I pulled into the parking lot behind the coffee shop and found an empty spot. I parked the car and walked through the narrow alley between buildings, to the sidewalk in front. Opening the door and stepping inside, I basked in the warmth, and the scent of fresh roasted coffee.

  “Hi Jenny,” I said, speaking loudly to be heard above the music that blared, as I made my way through the crowded establishment.

  Hi, Anika! I’m so glad you made it!”

  “There are a lot of people here tonight,” I said, looking around. I was thinking it was awfully loud, too.

  “Yeah, there are, and some of our regulars aren’t even here. Like Nate, you know him, but then several others, too.”

  We both looked around.

  “Are you getting anything?” I asked. “I thought I’d get a latte.”

  “That sounds good. I’ll wait with you in line.”

  We talked and got to know each other a little better. Miles and Mom were both right, Jenny would make a good friend. Too bad Mom and Miles couldn’t know each other. They’d get along great, even if Miles didn’t do all the dusting. They agreed so much about what would be good for me.

  As we waited for our orders, several people I remembered from the last time I showed up for game night, came in and joined us. A guy I didn’t recognize walked over, and pulled Jenny aside. He said something, I wasn’t sure what, and she seemed hesitant. I wondered what was going on. Finally she turned, and introduced him to me.

  “Anika, this is Bill.”

  “Hey there,” said Bill, lifting his chin as he said it.

  Not a bad looking guy, but definitely not my type. I’ve never thought the muscle-bound look was a good one. It wasn’t a low attractiveness rating on my personal scale that gave me a bad feeling about him, though. Part of it was Jenny’s hesitation and demeanor, when she introduced us. The rest of it was the way he looked at me, and a strong gut feeling.

  “Hi, Bill,” I said, glad my order was called right then. I turned away to retrieve my drink, then walked over to the straw, sugar, creamer, napkin station, for napkins I didn’t need.

  Jenny got her drink and we sat in a booth with a couple of other people she knew. Jenny did her best to include me, but it’s hard when you’re in a group that knows each other well, and has common experiences and memories. It’s impossible to keep up with the conversation half the time, it’s as if they’re talking in code. It was ridiculously loud, too, which didn’t help any.

  “I hate to do this,” Jenny said after a while. “I have to get going. I promised Mom I’d help her tonight.”

  We said goodbye. Before long, the other two friends also had to leave, which really was not a disappointment to me. I’m sure they’re nice, maybe I’d get to know them eventually. But if we were friends, they’d be the sort of friends that take work. Not effortless, like Miles. Not like Jenny, either.

  I was about to leave too, when Bill, the guy Jenny introduced me to, slid into the booth across from me.

  “So you’re Anika,” he said.

  “Since the day I was born,” I replied.

  He looked confused.

  “Well hey,” he recovered, “some of us are about to head to Joe’s. I’ll give you a ride.”

  Joe’s is a bar outside of Cedar Oaks. No way would building codes allow it in city limits, it would ruin the atmosphere. I didn’t like his assumption that I was going with him, or the look in his eyes. It made me feel like prey.

  “I don’t know how old you are Bill, but I’m not twenty-one.”

  When I’m twenty-one I won’t be hitting up bars, either. A good friend of mine was killed driving under the influence, and even if I’d been so inclined before, which I wasn’t, that would have cured me of wanting anything to do with alcohol.

  “What difference does it make?” he asked.

  As I reached for my latte, he moved his hand and ran a finger along
the back of mine. I jerked away, bristling.

  “The difference between legal and illegal,” I retorted.

  “Aww, you’re kidding!” Bill the jerk laughed. “You can’t be serious. So don’t tell me, you’ve never been to a bar before. No, wait. You’ve never even had a drink!”

  I gave him the raised-eyebrow look.

  “Aww, that’s just wrong! You’ve gotta come. It’s about time you got out and lived a little,” he laughed some more.

  Miles laughs, and I know everything is right with the world. Bill the jerk laughs, and I know everything isn’t.

  While those thoughts ran through my head, Bill the jerk leaned back and propped his foot on the seat beside me, invading my personal space, and blocking me from leaving the booth. I did not like that. At all.

  “No thanks. My kind of living and yours don’t combine.”

  I turned sideways and got one foot out from under the table and onto the seat, then stood and jumped over Bill the jerk’s leg, and out of the booth. Being short pays off at last! I couldn’t do that if I had longer legs.

  I walked to a table and sat. I barely remembered meeting these people, but there wasn’t a place for Bill the jerk to sit. I felt shaken after that encounter. My gut instinct was screaming Red Alert.

  Finally, my heart rate slowed. I watched until Bill the jerk was busy talking to someone else, then left the coffee shop behind.

  I hurried down the sidewalk, and through the narrow space between the two buildings, to the parking lot. The growing apprehension I felt was nearly overwhelming, but Mom’s car was in sight, and I made a beeline for it. I was almost there.

  My arm was grabbed from behind, nearly jerking me off my feet as I spun around, struggling for traction on the icy pavement. Bill the jerk stood there smirking, as he tightened his grip.

  Adrenalin made my heart pound so hard, I could barely breathe.

  “Let go Bill, I’m leaving,” I managed to say as I tried to wrench my arm free.

  He smiled, and I felt sick. My efforts to free myself amused him. He squeezed my arm so tight, I thought it would break.

  “So am I,” Bill the jerk said, “And you’re coming with me.”

  “No! I’m not going with you.” I struggled to keep my balance and gain traction and get my hand in my pocket without falling.

  “You might as well reconsider,” Bill the jerk said in a tone that meant I had no choice, as he sneered at my efforts to free myself.

  “FIRE!” I screamed at the top of my lungs.

  That startled Bill the jerk, and for a brief second, his grip on my arm slackened. I tore free, but he managed to grab hold of my forearm, nearly crushing it.

  “No one’s gonna hear you with that music blaring, and we’re all alone out here,” he smirked, looking around. “Nice try, though.”

  He started to walk, dragging me along with him through the parking lot. It was all I could do to stay on my feet on the slippery surface, as I struggled to keep as far away from wherever he wanted to take me, as I could. If he would just slip and get off balance or better yet, fall down, I might have a chance. But his weight was giving him an advantage in more ways than one.

  “Let go!” My hand lost all circulation, he was squeezing my arm so tight.

  “If you haven’t noticed, I’m a whole lot bigger than you are. Fighting’s only gonna make this harder on you,” he said.

  I slipped and went down on one knee.

  Bill the jerk stopped, and I stuffed my hand in my pocket. He looked down at me as he took out a set of keys and pressed the unlock button. The van in front of us chirped.

  My breath came in shallow gasps as panic threatened to overwhelm me. I fumbled with the contents of my pocket, my fingers numb with cold, as he pulled me to my feet and reached for the latch.

  In a tone that insinuated something entirely different than his original invitation to go to a bar with friends, he said, “You need a lesson on how to have fun, and you’re about to get one.”

  My blood turned to ice as he pulled the door open.

  Shaking, I managed to flip the nozzle on the can of pepper spray in my pocket to the “on” position and gripped it tightly in my hand. You don’t go out walking a dog without pepper spray, especially in the woods. You never know what kind of wild animal you might run into. Same for coffee shops, apparently.

  As he shoved me towards the open door, I leveled the pepper spray at his face and let him have it.

  He let me go and jumped backwards. It probably wasn’t the first time he was on the receiving end of one of these. His reaction kept the pepper spray from hitting him full in the eyes, but it did get on his face, and all over his chest.

  “Geeez, what’s the matter with you?! I was only having a little fun,” he choked out indignantly, as the fumes began to envelop him.

  I kept the pepper spray trained on him, and backed toward Mom’s car. Bill the jerk coughed, then coughed some more, angrily swiping at his face with his hands.

  “I was just joking around! You don’t have to take everything so serious,” Bill the jerk exclaimed angrily, as if I was too stupid to know the difference between fun and assault.

  Sure, it’s all my fault, a big misunderstanding.

  “Do not ever touch me again!” I glared.

  I reached Mom’s car and got in. I locked the doors and somehow managed to get the key in the ignition, in spite of how badly I was shaking, and drove away.

  I shook so bad I had to pull into the grocery store parking lot and wait for the adrenaline to work its way through my system. Then I started to cry. I’ve never been so scared in my life. What almost happened made me physically ill. I fought to keep from losing the latte I had earlier. I wasn’t unlocking the door for anything. If I threw up, I’d just have to clean the car later.

  I wanted more than anything to go straight to Miles and tell him what happened. But then he’d be upset, and use his superpowers to annihilate the guy. The annihilation part I was okay with, but I couldn’t stand for Miles to be worried about me, and he would be. I thought about telling Mom, but the last thing our family needed was for Mom to be strung up on murder charges.

  It would only hurt the people I loved if I told them, I decided. There were no witnesses, and I couldn’t prove what he tried to do. If I went to the Sheriff, it would be my word against his.

  I leaned back and tried to take deep breaths and calm my pounding heart. I looked at my watch and groaned. I needed to figure out a plan. If Mom saw me now, she’d know something horrible happened. I was in no shape to come up with a clever re-direction.

  One thing was certain, I couldn’t go home yet. Mom would still be up, and insist on knowing how my evening went. I’d have to wait, it was my best chance of getting past her.

  I huddled in the car, pulling my coat tighter around me in the extreme cold, and tried to get a handle on the tears that were still running down my cheeks.

  I waited until ten-thirty. Frozen nearly solid, I drove back to the cabin and parked the car, exiting as quietly as I possibly could. Mom’s bedroom light was on… if she just had her door shut, I’d be okay.

  Without a sound I snuck into my and Doreen’s room, and quickly changed into my tank top and yoga pants. I breathed a sigh of relief as I slid under the covers of my bed, wondering if I’d ever be warm again, and pretended to be asleep.

  Mom would never know.

  No one would.

  Talking about it would only upset people.

  Talking about it only upset people.

  Mom bumped into me as I walked out of my and Doreen’s room the next morning. She grabbed me by the arm.

  “WHAT HAPPENED?!”

  I looked down and saw that my bicep and forearm were badly bruised, in varying shades of black and purple. Yeesh.

  I gently extricated my arm, drew a blank on ways to redirect or distract her, and told her what happened.

  Mom was upset. Very upset. She was upset it happened, and upset at me for not telling her.


  Then I got upset. I said the only reason I went to the stupid thing, was because of all the pressure to get out and “make friends”. I air quoted and eye rolled. The only reason I didn’t tell her, is because I wanted to avoid this. Then I started to cry.

  Then Mom started to cry. Then Tryon started to cry, and Doreen, who really didn’t need any excitement.

  This is why I didn’t tell her!

  I angrily wiped my eyes with the back of my hand, and set to work reassuring Doreen that everything was okay.

  Mom fed Tryon breakfast and got him settled down, while I got dressed and snuck out of the house. I was so done for the day.

  I trudged to the castle in a bad mood. I even forgot to bring Chip. Poor guy, he hates it when people argue. He was probably hiding under my bed.

  I took several deep breaths that weren’t all that calming, and tried to snap out of it.

  Fortunately the piano tuner arrived as I walked up to the door, so seeing Miles was delayed. If he saw me he’d know I was upset, and I didn’t want to explain why.

  I tried to put on a happier face than the not-Happy Cleaners woman, and ushered the man inside.

  It took over three hours. Piano tuning done right isn’t a speedy process. He played several trilling notes in rapid succession, then made an adjustment, played again, not a song, but it sounded cool.

  I stayed in the piano room, and by the time he finished, I was calm again. I scheduled additional appointments for him to tune the other pianos in the house (yes, there were several), and he saw himself out. I heard the front door close behind him.

  “Are you okay?” asked Miles, as he appeared beside me.

  “Yeah, fine,” I said, and hoped I sounded genuine. “So, ever play the piano?”

  “Some,” said Miles. “I did spend a lot of time alone the past three years. I had to do something to keep busy. How about you?”

  “I know how to play fake music,” I said.

  Miles pulled an Uncle Mark, and paused.

  “What is that? Surely it’s not how it sounds.”