“No.”
“A deep down lonely. Like the people who are supposed to be with you are not and never will be. Because they’re all dead or far away or somewhere long gone in the past before you were even born.”
Nothing like existentialism to ruin my buzz.
“Like this life we live is not the good life? Because any one of these people couldn’t look in my eyes and know my soul. Because that’s what we were put on this earth for. To be with each other and love each other, and know each others souls.” She turns to me and crinkles her face like she’s gonna cry. “I want to belong to something. A tribe I spend every day with from the day I’m born till the day I die. Same people. Noone goes away. Noone ever changes. The tribe always stays the same.”
“Some guy did you good, didn’t he?”
“We were made for each other. That’s why we’re here.”
“You wanna belong to someone?” I pull out my Park’s Department card and slide it over the bar to her. “It was nice meeting you. When you get tired of playing with the preschoolers give me a call.”
22: Stori
I never imagined my first kiss like this. 3 hours before sunrise in a casino parking lot, waiting in the dank cold with a gun tucked into my pants. Five cleaning service vans pull up to a receiving entrance. The crew quickly unloads their equipment and make their way inside.
Richie Ramera stands in their wake. He doesn’t go in with the rest of them. Instead he turns and stalks through the half empty lot over to garbage bins where I wait. He steps into the thick shadows and says, “Hi Sullen.”
I always knew it wouldn’t be Tony but never thought it would be like this. With someone I don’t even like.
All that practicing I did and for what?
I’ve never been a complainer, but this one just doesn’t seem fair.
I’m this close to bursting into tears when he gets up on me and puts his hands on my hips. What a failure I’ve become. He’s gonna tell everybody. I’m never going to show my face in the street again.
I step back and his hands fall to his sides. “Let me see the keys first.”
He pulls them out of his pocket. “Got them right here.” He holds them up like bait, jingles them with a shit-eating grin.
I hope it makes him feel real good about himself, taking advantage the way he does. The old me would have never let this happen. She would have been clever and come up with a way to get inside without ruining her reputation. And she would have put Richie in his place to boot.
But I’m not the old me anymore. I’m somebody else—a girl I don’t trust—and it frightens me.
I’m ashamed standing in front of him. I feel like nothing. Like I deserve nothing. I can’t even be mad at him because now I’m convinced he’s better than me. If he wants it, I should just give it to him.
He grabs me by the back of the head and smushes his face into mine. It’s rough and all I can do is open my mouth and let his tongue in. It’s hard. Not soft the way Seventeen magazine said it would be.
I don’t feel anything as I let him go at it. Not fear. Not desire. Not even regret.
He stops and pulls my coat open. “Let me feel you,” he breathes. “Come on. Just a little.”
“That wasn’t part of the deal.”
“It is now.”
“I don’t have time. But tomorrow.”
“You promise?”
“I promise.”
He grabs my head again and kisses me so hard our teeth scrape. “I’m gonna fuck you too. Okay?” He says it with hatred.
“Okay.”
Finally he gives me the keys. Adjusting his crotch he backs out of the darkness. “Damn girl.” Then he turns and skips out into the lit up parking lot. He sails all the way back to the receiving door.
I have what I need now. The keys feel heavy as I lift my arm, wiping my mouth with my coat sleeve.
I run to the van and open the back doors. I climb in and rummage through some items before I find a vest that bears the words Happy Time Cleaners. Richie promised he would leave an extra jacket for me. The keys are marked too: Receiving Entrance and Cage. The only two I need.
There’s a man in the receiving office shouting on the phone. “I told you that shit was supposed to get here yesterday, not today. Do you know how many heads are gonna roll because of this?” I dart by him into a narrow hall that brings me up a staircase.
Voices meet me as I crack the door ajar; I pull it closed again and wait for them to pass. They’re speaking Spanish. I muster up as much of my intermediate Spanish as possible to make out something about starting at the top first and finishing at the bottom. I count to three before I make my way out and follow a good distance behind them as they drag several vacuum cleaners and those rolling shelves that maids push around at hotels. I hide again as they wait for an elevator and then get on. The doors close. I listen for signs of anyone else, but there’s only quiet.
Pots are banging in the far distance. It must be a kitchen somewhere. Finally I make for the foyer and just my luck, it’s empty.
The tigers are there. They’re sleeping. I go over to the glass and tap. They don’t wake up. I see a mirrored door to the back; this is where the animal keepers must get inside. I go back into the hallway and see another door. It’s locked.
I pull out the keys and locate the one tagged Cage. I slip it in and turn my wrist. The door opens.
I enter a musty room cluttered with boxes and tools. I see the door. It’s glass from this side and the tigers are just beyond it. I use the key again. It works.
I don’t know if I’m afraid stepping inside the tiger’s den. I’m not sure how they will react when they see me. This could be the very end. I will die for you father. I will stand and face the mauling. You will see then how much I love you. My love for him pushes me forward. Whatever secret there is to be uncovered lies within this den.
I step inside and one tiger instantly senses my presence. Her head pops up, her ears stiffen. She rises, looks at me and roars.
I stand and watch her, expecting to be afraid, but instead overcome by remorse. “Oh baby. Who put you in here like this? Who took you away from them? That’s what they’re gonna do to all of us. Take us away from each other. Oh baby. Don’t cry. I don’t think I can stand it. Here.” I go back to the door and open it. “Come with me. I’ll get you out of here.”
She looks at the cookie and then back at me. And then she roars again. The others have woken. The baby rises, yawns and stretches. She pads her way over to me and rubs her powerful flank against my leg. I almost fall over, and brace myself against her power. I look at her mother. “Why don’t you come? I’m trying to help you. I’m supposed to be looking for my father. But instead I’m helping you.”
The male is behind her, but he’s not paying much attention. He’s sniffing in a bucket for what I assume is water or food. Then he bends his head down and begins lapping up water from a bucket.
The mother is full of pride. I can see it in the way she strides over to a small cave and disappears inside. I know to follow her so I do.
Inside is a blanket of hay scattered across the floor and in the far corner I see something glinting. I kneel and brush my hands over the hay and see a silver groove with a latch. There’s a door here. It’s wooden and hinged to the planks of the floor. I slide my finger under the latch and lift and the door comes up. What I find below the wood is a stone staircase leading down into pitch-blackness.
The mother stands at my side looking down into the darkness with me. “Thank you,” I tell her. And I make my way down into the dungeon.
As the upper door closes on top of me, wood scraping against stone, I look up into the shrinking square of light. After it shuts I’m left in deafening darkness. I stand completely still. I’m not thinking anything. Just allowing myself to be. Then I reach out and feel for the wall. I lean as much of my weight into it as I can, and begin my descent, sliding myself down the stairway, using the tips of my toes as feelers before each ste
p. After I get to the bottom I proceed slowly, still clinging to the wall.
Water drips from above. I can hear the little pats and every so often I take a shot right on the crown of my head. At first it startles me but then I get used to it. Somewhere far in the distance there’s work being done. The sound of clanging against iron or steel. There’s no telling what I might come upon and I have to fight the panic rising under my heart.
Then I see a flicker of light off to the side. I spy a narrow passage and someone in it, moving away from me, holding a lantern. I gasp, despite myself and the figure halts. They turn and the lantern shows itself in fullness. I dart into the darkest corner I can find.
“Who is it there?” the figure calls in a loud whisper. “Show yourself to me.”
The voice belongs to a boy. Is that fear I hear in him? I open my mouth to answer, only to clamp my mouth shut again. Could a child be danger? He seems to read my mind for he says, “If you are hiding because you’re frightened, I won’t hurt you.”
I peek over the corner of the wall and see the lantern again. I’m not sure if he can see me for the darkness is deep. “We don’t have much time,” he insists. “We’re alone now, but who knows how much longer.”
I have no choice but to answer. “I came from upstairs. I’m looking for my father, Frank.”
I can see his hand go up to his mouth. He looks behind him and then hurries to where I’m standing. I don’t know if it’s the light of the lantern that comforts me or the face of a nine year old boy with the prettiest black lashes I have ever seen and flushed cheeks in a round pale face. “What is your name,” he asks breathlessly.
“Stori. Putzarella. What’s yours?”
“Ben. Ben Bak.”
“You’re from the Valley aren’t you?”
“Yes. You are too.”
“What are you doing down here, Ben?”
“These are Cosimo’s quarters. He’s building an underground palace with tunnels that will channel out as far as they can take him. I was kidnapped by one of his Hounds.”
“My God, that’s horrible.”
“It’s even worse for some of the others. I’m one of his chosen. I fetch him water and food when he and the Mistress dine. The others are in the prison hall. They only come out when he calls for them.”
“I don’t understand,” I say.
“There’s not enough time to explain it all,” he says. “But this man, you speak of. I’ve seen him. His name is Frank. Cosimo has been keeping him prisoner.”
“You have to show me! You have to show me where he is.”
“Are you crazy?” he says. “You can be killed. Go back up.” He points to the direction from where I came. “Go back up and…”
“No,” I insist, trying to keep myself from yelling. “I will not leave without my father.” I’ve come this far and even if I die at least I might get the chance to tell my father I love him. Maybe, I will even get to feel his touch one last time. Oh, to feel my father’s touch upon my face. To have him hold me again. I would die a thousand deaths just to have that one more time.
Ben’s not pleased. He shakes his head. “You won’t get to him. I promise.”
“I won’t leave until I see him.” I have nothing to lose and everything to gain.
“Follow me then, and do everything I tell you.”
He leads me through a maze of limestone walls. Rats scurry along the edges, ducking into shadows and burrowing into open crevices. We get to an arched door of dark wood and Ben pulls the handle to open it.
Inside is a decent sized room with a four post bed.
“Is this your room?” I ask.
“Yes. Like I told you. I’m one of the lucky ones. Here. Put this on. You can maybe pass as one of the other chosen ones. If you keep your head down and don’t look anyone in the eye.”
I get the feeling we’re safe in here, so I take this opportunity to get a better look at Ben. He’s barefoot and wears white linen pants and a matching shirt. And on his head is a crown of grapes and vines. His body is slight and his shoulder bones jut out under his shirt. But from the color in his face I can see he’s well fed. At least for now.
I kick off my boots and socks, undress and quickly change into the linen. The pants are way too short for me, but the shirt fits fine. There’s no place to hide the gun on me now, so I wrap it in my sweatshirt, making sure Ben doesn’t see.
“Okay,” he says. “Now follow me and if anyone speaks to you, only answer with Yes or No. Do you understand?”
“I understand.”
He leads me out of the room and we descend deeper into the belly of this dungeon palace until we finally come upon a massive circular prison with small rooms blocked off by rows of bars. The prison spirals down deeper inside the earth. We’re only at the top. Looking down, I gasp as I see prisoner after prisoner, all of them children!” They stare out of their cells with the saddest eyes I have ever seen. I almost want to break down and start weeping, but I know I can’t.
“We will go further down,” Ben tells me. “To Cosimo’s quarters. He has his Great Room there. Where he brings the children for singing and dancing.”
“His Great Room?”
“No time to explain.”
“Who put you down here?” I ask.
“I told you. The Hounds. They work for Cosimo and the Mistress. Cosimo is further down, in the bottom.”
“Why do they have you here?” I ask. I can only imagine Regina and I are next.
We go deeper into the dungeon, all the while the little eyes of children staring out at us from behind black bars. Under the prison is another maze of hallways and more lanterns are lit, resting in small alcoves the size of windows. I hear rats squeaking and scratching to get out of our way.
We finally come to a place that looks rather civilized in comparison to the rest of this dungeon. It has marble floors and leather couches. And standing lamps give off fluorescent light.
I hear people coming, so I move to duck behind a stone pillar, but Ben grabs my arm. “They will have to see you,” he says. “It’s the only way.”
We step closer and there are men and women; I recognize some of them from the casino. The mayor’s friends who he was whispering with. I knew it!
They kiss Ben on the top of the head and ask him to fetch some water. “Right away,” he replies.
Adrenaline pumps through my veins. I don’t think about what I’ll do if someone catches me. The streets of the Valley have taught me that it’s better not plan out a fight before it happens. So I decide not to think too much.
Ben points to a door and says, “That’s the kitchen. We have to get the water now. Follow me.” We fill glass pitchers and he leads me out of the kitchen down yet another hall without any doors, save for one at the very end. Ben comes to the door and does some kind of secret knock—three taps follow by two, followed by three again. A woman answers. She’s slutty, wobbling in stilettos pumps and as we follow her in I see the mayor’s friends lounging on couches with even more slutty women draped over them.
The room is covered wall to wall in a red rug. Ben and I go to the dining room table; it’s draped in red linen, lit with candelabras and covered with steaming hot food. We begin to pour the water and then retreat into the corner of the room. Dinner hasn’t started yet, so I assume they’re still waiting for someone.
There’s a ball of glass in here too. It’s about ten feet tall in the center of a marble floor. What is that thing?
Two soldier looking guys usher someone in. He shuffles his feet and they leave him by the ball.
Oh, Jesus! It’s him. My father! He’s bound by chains on his wrists and feet, wearing his work uniform.
Ben looks at me and squeezes my hand hard. He whispers. “Is that him?”
I look at Ben, my eyes brimming with tears. “Yes.”
“Do not move. Do you hear me? Now is not the time.”
The boy’s words have an odd affect on me. I don’t move. I only watch, miserably longing to run to
him and embrace him. I want to break the shackles from his body, cover him in kisses. I want to pick him up and cradle him in my arms.
I wish with all my might for my gun. I would kill everyone in this room. I would kill these rotten bastards for doing this to my father.
But I know I have to wait. I have only known Ben for less than twenty minutes but I already trust his word completely. I know, somehow, that Ben is my father’s only hope.
If I reveal myself it will only mean more trouble. A man stands and walks over to my father and kneels down to inspect him. It’s Mayor Vaughn. “How did he get down here,” he demands.
Another person is in the room and their very movement puts the fear of God in me. A man sits in a throne. His skin is grey and his nose stands out on his sunken face like a protruding knob. Is he dead? No, he’s breathing. His hands move a little. A woman sits next to him. She stands and comes closer to my father. She’s cloaked in black. I can’t see her face cause she’s wearing a masquerade mask.
“What do you see, my Lady?” asks the mayor. “Is he corruptible?”
She points a long slender finger and extends it toward my father. I have to cover my mouth as tears stream in abandon down my face. Don’t touch him. Please, Jesus, don’t let her touch him.
“No. Not this one. He fights for the side that is good.”
The finger swipes down the side of my father’s cheek. It run down over his collar bone and move his unbuttoned shirt back to inspect his chest. What the woman sees is what I know is there already. A heart of thorns over my father’s chest. It’s not a tattoo. It’s some kind of scar he never wants to talk about.
“We’ll dispose of him then,” the mayor asserts.
Over my dead body. They will have to kill me first. I brace myself for what’s about to come. I look at Ben with utter defiance and wish I had kept my gun with me.
“Not yet,” the masked woman says. “We can’t. This one has something I need. Now leave me alone with him. All of you. And have Ben send for another child.”
The Book, the Key and the Crown (Secrets of the Emerald Tablet Book 1) Page 22