Romiette and Julio

Home > Contemporary > Romiette and Julio > Page 15
Romiette and Julio Page 15

by Sharon M. Draper


  Mrs. Cappelle had had a terrible day. She got to work late, the shipment was wrong and had to be reprocessed, a customer came in and stayed for two hours, trying on dozens of outfits, then ended up buying only a hair clip on sale for fifty cents. She finally eased into her car and headed home. She hoped Romi had cooked something. She was starving. She pulled into the driveway just ahead of her husband, who had come home early too since he didn’t have to do the eleven o’clock broadcast. They pulled both cars into the garage and stood together for a moment looking at the threatening sky. The air smelled of rain. Cornell Cappelle breathed deeply of the fresh night air. He held his wife’s hand and sighed. “You know, Lady B., I love my job, and I’m good at it. But that Nannette is going to drive me to drink! She is a total idiot!”

  She loved when he called her Lady B. It had been his pet name for her when they were dating in college. “How much longer can they keep her on?” she asked.

  “Who knows?” he replied with consternation. “Her uncle is somebody who works in management upstairs.”

  “Ratings down at all?” his wife asked as they opened the front door.

  “I think ratings are going up because people are watching the show just to laugh at her. It’s not a comedy show—it’s supposed to be the news!” Cornell responded angrily.

  She tried to soothe him a bit and change the subject. “Something’s got to give soon, dear. Are you hungry?”

  “Yeah, starving. Let’s order Chinese. Where’s Romi?”

  “Sounds good to me. Probably in her room. Romi! We’re going to order Chinese food. Want some?” Mrs. Cappelle called. She heard only silence.

  “That’s odd,” remarked Mr. Cappelle. “Maybe she’s out back with the dogs.” He strode through the kitchen and looked out the back door. “ROMI!” he called loudly.

  “I don’t think she’s here, Cornell.” Fear edged Mrs. Cappelle’s voice. They checked all the rooms in the house and found only darkness and silence.

  “Let’s check the answering machine and see if she’s left a message,” Cornell suggested. They did, but all they heard were messages from salespeople and business associates.

  “It’s after dark, and she hasn’t called. This is not like her.” He sat on the sofa, a frown on his face. “Well, where could she be? Destiny’s house?”

  “I don’t think so, Cornell. When I left for work, she was studying math with the young man from school she gave the puppy to. His name is Julio—Hispanic kid—nice-looking. I think she likes him. I’ve never seen her grin so much.”

  “You left her here with a boy you don’t know?” Mr. Cappelle asked his wife accusingly, worry in his voice.

  She responded, “It was bright daylight, and they were doing homework. I trust her. She probably just lost track of the time, Cornell. You know how it is.”

  “Well, Miss Romiette and Mr. Julio had better call soon. She is usually a lot more responsible. I don’t like this, and I’m getting really worried.” Cornell Cappelle walked across the living-room floor several times. On the floor next to the coffee table was a small square of paper. He recognized Romi’s handwriting and picked it up quickly. “Lady B.! Here’s a note that Romi left. It must have blown to the floor.” They read it together.

  Mom,

  I went for a walk with Julio. I’ll be back by seven.

  Love, Romi

  “Seven?” Mrs. Cappelle said in alarm. “It’s almost ten o’clock, Cornell.”

  “Did she leave a number?” Cornell asked. “Do you know his last name?”

  “No, he’s new. Just moved here a couple of months ago. I know she talks to him quite a bit on the phone, and she told me that she first met him on the Internet.”

  “Internet? That’s how criminals find innocent young girls and then seduce and attack them. What do you know about this kid?” stormed Cornell.

  His wife said calmly, “He certainly didn’t look like a criminal. He was personable, polite, and downright cute. I think he liked her too.”

  “Now I’m really worried,” Cornell said. “We did a story on Internet criminals. If he’s so sweet and innocent, where is she?”

  “Now, let’s not jump to conclusions. Let me call Destiny’s house.” Romi’s mother picked up the phone and called the familiar number. “Hello, Janell, how are you?”

  “Working hard, Brianna, as usual. Are the girls at your house?”

  Romi’s mother caught her breath. “No, Janell, that’s why I called. You haven’t seen them?”

  “No, not today. Destiny left shortly after she got home from school with a boy named Ben. Cute kid with blue hair. She said they were going to the library to do some research. The library closes at nine, so she should be home soon.”

  “Blue hair?” Mrs. Cappelle questioned.

  “Yes, bright blue. And pierced ears, and nose, and eyebrow.” Destiny’s mother sighed. “But Destiny says he makes straight A’s. Kids these days.”

  “Well, would you call me the instant she comes in? I don’t know where Romiette is, and I’m a little worried. I’m sure it’s nothing, but when they start driving, and riding with kids with blue hair, I worry.”

  “Sure, Brianna. I’ll have her call you. And you let me know if Romi gets there before we call.”

  “Thanks, Janell. I’ll talk to you soon.” Mrs. Cappelle hung up the phone and frowned. A heavy feeling of dread slowly crept into her body. Something was not right.

  Cornell felt it too. “Who else can we call, Lady?” He was pacing the floor.

  “It’s a long shot, but let me call her friend Malaka Grimes. They used to be close, and I know they talked just recently about some activity at school. Let’s see, her number is here on the refrigerator somewhere. Here it is.” She punched the number quickly. Her fingers were beginning to shake. “Hello, Malaka, this is Mrs. Cappelle. Have you seen Romi?”

  Malaka was in a hurry, but when she heard Romi’s mother’s voice, her breath caught in her throat. She had only stopped by her house to get some duct tape that Rashad had forgotten. She wished she hadn’t answered the phone. Outside, in front of her house, Terrell and the Devildogs waited impatiently. They had important business tonight, and Romi’s mother was the last person Malaka felt like talking to. She answered quickly, “I don’t talk to her much anymore since she started hanging with that foreigner.”

  “Foreigner?”

  “Yeah, that new kid. I think he’s trouble.”

  “Why?” The chill of dread was spreading quickly through Mrs. Cappelle’s body.

  Malaka felt powerful. She added maliciously, “I think he’s got gang connections. That’s why they moved here, I heard.”

  “Do you know this for a fact, or are you going by hearsay?”

  “I just know what I know,” Malaka replied sullenly. “Hey, I gotta go.”

  Romi’s mother could feel Malaka’s negative attitude. She knew she’d get very little further information. “Thanks, Malaka,” she said politely. “If you hear from her, call me, OK? I’m getting really worried.” Mrs. Cappelle could hear a car horn honking furiously in the background, but she thought nothing of it.

  “Sure,” Malaka replied shortly. “Bye.” She hung up and grinned. Terrell would be proud of me, she told herself as she bounded down the stairs and out to the Devildogs.

  Mrs. Cappelle hung the phone up slowly. “That was odd,” she said to her husband. “Malaka said the new kid was trouble.”

  Cornell turned and faced his wife with anger and worry. “See, I told you! I’m calling the police!”

  His wife handed him the phone. “You’re right,” she said, shaking. “I hope we’re overreacting, but let’s call.” Mr. Cappelle’s mind was numb. He couldn’t believe he was about to call the police about his precious daughter, his Romiette, his princess. Then the doorbell rang, jarring his thoughts.

  He walked to the front door and looked out the small glass window. Two police officers in blue stood on his doorstep. Behind them stood Destiny and a boy he had never seen befor
e, the kid with the blue hair. His heart pounded with dread. He looked back at his wife, whose eyes were wide with fright. “It’s the police,” he said quietly. She gasped. He opened the front door, hoping for a miracle, but fearing the worst.

  “Mr. and Mrs. Cappelle?” the officer asked.

  “Yes, please come in. Does this have something to do with our daughter? What’s happened?”

  Mrs. Cappelle gulped huge breaths of air. She fought back tears. “Oh, my God! Destiny? Why are you with the police? Where’s Romi? What’s going on? Who’s the boy with the blue hair?” She was getting frantic.

  The police officer, who had encountered many distraught parents, took control of the situation. He spoke calmly and quietly. “Let’s start at the beginning, ma’am. May I sit down?”

  “Yes, please.” She motioned vaguely toward the sofa. She sat on the edge of a chair, every fiber bristling with concern. Cornell did not sit. He continued to pace while he listened.

  The police officer continued. “At 7:12 P.M. this evening a 911 call came into dispatch, apparently from Miss Dodson here and Mr. Olsen. They had called to report that their friends, your daughter, Romiette, and a young man by the name of Julio Montague, were apparently missing.”

  “Missing?” Romi’s mother stood up. “What do you mean, missing? And why did you say ‘apparently’ missing?”

  Destiny went over to Romi’s mother and took her cold and shaking hand. Destiny’s hands were cold as well. “Mrs. C., let me tell you the whole story. I’m so scared. It wasn’t supposed to happen this way.”

  “OK, Destiny, let’s sit down. Now tell me everything. Start at the beginning. Young man, are you part of this?”

  “Yes, ma’am. My name is Ben. We had a plan, but then something went wrong, and I’m really sorry. Romi never was sure about this whole idea. And Julio said we ought to tell …” Ben looked down at the floor in shame and confusion.

  “Tell what?” Cornell demanded. “Will somebody please explain what’s going on? We don’t know where my daughter is, and I want to get to the bottom of this now! Destiny, you start.”

  She took a deep breath. “OK. It all started with the Scientific Soul Mate System.”

  “The what?”

  “No, wait, that’s stupid. That was just a game. This is real. It all started when Romiette and Julio started talking on the Internet. Most of the time the kids we talk to in the chat rooms live in other cities, other states, but it turned out that Romi and Julio lived right here in Cincinnati, and even went to the same school. Freaky.”

  “I told you about Internet criminals!” Cornell declared angrily.

  “Let her finish, Cornell. Go on, Destiny.” One police officer took notes. The other stood by the door and watched the scene silently.

  Destiny started to cry. “Ben, you go on. I’m shaking too hard to talk.”

  “Julio is no criminal, Mr. C. Romiette and Julio got to talking at school and they kinda liked each other. Julio told me he was lonely and missed his friends at his old school and Romiette was his first real friend here. And me and Julio really hit it off right away.” Ben touched his nose instinctively. “I guess he liked my style.”

  “Blue hair, right?” Mrs. Cappelle smiled in spite of herself.

  “Sometimes it’s green. Last week it was orange.”

  “Get on with the story, Ben,” Mr. Cappelle urged.

  “OK. Julio and Romi have been getting hassled at school by these kids that are in the Devildogs.”

  “Devildogs?”

  “Yeah, this gang at school.”

  “What gang? What’s this about a gang?” Cornell asked.

  “There’s lots of gangs around here. In our city. In our school. Your news reports are wrong, Mr. Cappelle. You want to know the real deal? Why don’t you ask the kids?”

  “You’re right, Ben. We’ll do that. But go on—tell us how all this fits into the story. Where is Romiette?” He wanted to pull his hair out. This seemed to be going so slowly, and Romiette was not sitting in her living room where she was supposed to be.

  “Well, I got this Minicam from my dad—it’s like a spy recorder or something—and the plan was that we would secretly tape the Devildogs threatening Julio and Romiette. Then we were going to turn the tape over to you, Mr. Cappelle, so you could expose them on TV, and that would be the end of that.”

  “But that’s so dangerous! What possessed you kids to undertake something so potentially life-threatening?” Cornell was furious.

  “Julio wants to be a news cameraman or something. Plus he wanted to show Romi he was brave and would protect her. We figured we could handle it.” The answer sounded stupid to Ben even as he said it.

  Destiny tried to help him. “See, Ben and me were supposed to follow behind in his car with a cell phone. And we could call if anything got out of hand.”

  “But my car stopped, and we tried to push it, but cars are a lot heavier than they look! By the time we got it started, and we got to the place where Romi and Julio were supposed to be, they were gone!”

  “What do you mean gone?”

  “They were only about a block or so ahead of us—walking on the sidewalk that goes past London Woods. We knew they wouldn’t go into the woods because it was getting dark, and we had already talked about that. The plan was to stay where we could see them so nobody could get hurt.”

  Destiny couldn’t stop crying. “We looked in the woods anyway and we called and yelled. But they just weren’t there!” She buried her face in her hands and sobbed.

  Ben added, “That’s when we called 911. The police officers came, but they didn’t really believe us at first. It does sound a little suspicious. ‘Our friends are not where they said they would be’ doesn’t sound like a serious problem, but we were really worried.”

  Destiny took the tissue Mrs. Cappelle offered and wiped her eyes and nose. “I’m scared, Mrs. C. Something really bad has happened. Romi wouldn’t run off like this, and they’re not in the woods, and the Devildogs have been threatening them ….”

  Cornell Cappelle looked directly at the two policemen. “Officers, what do we do now? I want my daughter found!”

  “We are starting a full investigation, sir. We will search London Woods and the surrounding areas. Did you kids see any unusual cars or vehicles?”

  “No. Nothing. The street was deserted. Just us and the breeze,” Ben said quietly.

  “I’m scared, Mrs. C.,” Destiny said again. “I always play around and tell people that I’m psychic, but something tells me something really bad has happened. What are we gonna do?”

  “I’ll kill that kid if he’s hurt my daughter!”

  Destiny looked surprised. “Julio wouldn’t hurt Romi, Mr. C. He’s crazy about her!”

  “Oh, Cornell, what are we going to do?” Mrs. Cappelle went over to her husband and buried her face in his frightened embrace.

  “Let’s not throw words like ‘kill’ around, folks,” admonished the policeman with the notepad. “Hold on, I’ve got a call here from dispatch.” He put his walkie-talkie to his ear. “Yeah, Joe? OK. We’ll be right down with the parents of the girl.” He looked at Romi’s parents. “Mr. and Mrs. Cappelle, Julio’s parents are on their way to the station. They called a few minutes ago to report their son hadn’t come home from school. Ordinarily we wouldn’t worry much about a teenager coming home late from school. But this is different. It seems that your daughter and their son are missing together.”

  Romi’s parents held on to each other for a moment, then they hurriedly gathered their things to head to the police station. Mrs. Cappelle looked at Destiny. “Destiny, call your mother right away, and tell her everything. Then go home and stay there. If Romi tries to contact anybody, she’ll call you if she can’t reach us. We’ll call you later and let you know what’s going on. Make sure the door is locked when you leave.” Destiny nodded, still sniffing. “Ben, will your car get her home safely?”

  “Yes, ma’am. Turns out it was out of gas. I’ll take her
home. And Mrs. Cappelle—I’m really sorry.”

  “I know, Ben. Let’s just hope this turns out to be less than what we fear. Good night.” She turned then and walked into the night with the police officers. It had started to rain.

  42.

  In the Montague Car—9:30 P.M.

  Luis Montague was angry—and afraid. He gripped the steering wheel fiercely and looked straight ahead as he drove to the police station. His wife sat beside him, weeping. They did not speak. The windshield wipers squeaked back and forth as the rain pelted the car.

  His thoughts exploded finally. “I told him to leave that girl alone!” he yelled to the sky, to the rain, to his wife. “I warned him about hanging around with those people!”

  “Luis, we’re not sure about anything yet. Please don’t jump to conclusions.”

  “Don’t tell me how to think!” he roared. Then, softer, he said, “I’m sorry, Maria. I’m just so worried. I can’t believe we’re heading to the police station because our son is missing.”

  “Maybe he’s got a good excuse. Maybe we’re overreacting,” she offered, searching for hope. “Are we being foolish?”

  “We’ve been over this, Maria. Something is wrong. You were home all day, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “And Julio didn’t come home from school.”

  “Maybe he had band practice or something,” Maria suggested weakly.

  “From three o’clock until ten? Not likely. And he hasn’t called?”

  “No,” she admitted. “And that’s not like him at all.”

  “And did we try to call his friends, what few we know of?” he demanded, trying to make himself understand this terror as well.

  “Well, we called that young man, Ben, whom he seems to be quite close to, and there was no answer. And we have called the school, and gone down to the school building to find it locked and dark.”

  “So what choice do we have, Maria?” Luis asked in resignation. “The boy loves that puppy and wouldn’t leave it for hours unattended like this. And he knows how you worry about him. He would not do this to his mother. I know my son. Something is wrong.”

 

‹ Prev