Romiette and Julio

by Sharon M. Draper

  “But what makes you think it has something to do with this girl, Luis? I know he really likes her. I could see the glow in his smile when he spoke of her. We had a good talk about his feelings for her.”

  “I told him not to get involved with gang kids like that! How dare you encourage him?” Luis asked, his anger returning.

  Julio’s mother retorted, “If you wouldn’t yell at him and threaten him, Luis, he might confide in you more!” Luis refused to answer. Maria continued, “And what makes you think she’s involved in a gang? He would have told me if he even suspected that. He’s been through the pain of gangs back home. He wouldn’t voluntarily jump into those muddy waters again.”

  “That’s not what he told me. He defied me and dared me to try to run his life!”

  “Perhaps Julio is right, Luis,” his wife said quietly.

  “What?”

  “Perhaps you should let him make his own decisions, and his own mistakes, just as we did.” She waited for her husband’s stormy reaction. But he was quiet and thoughtful.

  “Perhaps so,” he finally said sadly, “but none of this answers the question I want to know most. Where is my son? Where is Julio?”

  They pulled into the parking lot of the police station. They got out in the pouring rain and, sharing one umbrella, hurried inside.

  43.

  At the Station—10 P.M.

  The inside of the police station didn’t look anything like the police stations she had seen on TV, Mrs. Montague thought. It had a very small, dimly lit waiting room. The police officer behind the bulletproof glass window looked bored and unconcerned when they walked in out of the rain.

  “Excuse me, sir,” began Luis. The words were difficult for him to say. The thought that something might have happened to Julio made the words stick in his mouth. “We wish … we wish to report our son is missing. I called earlier and I was asked to come down here.”

  “How old is he?” the officer asked.

  “Sixteen,” Mrs. Montague answered.

  “How long has he been gone?”

  “He didn’t come home from school today, and he has not called. That is not like my son,” she said with assurance.

  “Did you have a fight? Is there any reason why he would run away?” Seeing the pained looked on Maria Montague’s face, he added gently, “I’m sorry, folks. These are routine questions. We need all the information we can get in order to find your son.”

  “I understand,” replied Mrs. Montague with dignity. “There has been no fight; well, some minor disagreements, maybe, but my Julio would not run away.”

  The officer looked up. “Did you say ‘Julio’? What’s his full name?”

  “Julio Leonardo Montague,” his father replied. The officer checked a dispatch paper in front of him. “Would you folks have a seat for just a minute? We had a 911 call earlier today from some kids who mentioned your son’s name. Our captain is on his way here now, and he told me he wanted to speak with you personally.”

  Fearing the worst, Mrs. Montague began to weep again. She collapsed in her husband’s arms. “Perhaps he has good news, Maria,” Luis said to her as he tried to comfort her. But he didn’t believe it himself. He too swallowed dread as he waited for the captain to return.

  The rain and wind blew harder. The Montagues listened to the rain on the windows as they waited.

  Finally, the door blew open, and two police officers and an African-American couple walked in the door. Maria recognized the man right away. He was Cornell Cappelle, the good-looking newsman from Channel Six. She whispered to her husband, “I think those are the parents of the girl.”

  Luis also recognized Cappelle. But he showed no sign of acknowledgment or recognition. The mother had been crying, he could tell, and the father looked as fierce and frightened as Luis himself felt.

  The captain checked in at the dispatch desk and glanced over at the Montagues after a word with the officer behind the window. He smiled, and walked over with confidence, his hand outstretched. “Mr. and Mrs. Montague? I’m Bill Escaluski, captain here.”

  “Glad to meet you, sir. Do you know anything about my son?” Mrs. Montague wanted to skip the polite nonessentials.

  “Not yet, but we’re working on it. Let me introduce you to the other half of this puzzle.” Romi’s mother and father walked over to Julio’s mother and father. “Mr. and Mrs. Cappelle,” he said, “meet Mr. and Mrs. Montague. That’s funny—the Montagues and the Cappelles. I remember those names from high school, or something very close to it—Shakespeare. Enemies, weren’t they? In Romeo and Juliet. Even your kids’ names are similar.”

  Cornell Cappelle was in no mood for humorous coincidences. “We don’t find anything very funny about this evening.” He looked at Luis Montague with distrust. “If your boy has hurt my child in any way, I swear, I’ll—”

  Luis was about to respond angrily, when the captain interrupted. “Right now, folks, we have no proof that anyone has done anything wrong. Both young people may be in grave danger. Let’s see if we can get to the bottom of this together.”

  Lady Brianna Cappelle smiled at Maria Montague and offered her hand. Then she said to her husband, “Cornell, calm down. There’s got to be a logical explanation for all this. I’m sure that the Montagues are just as worried as we are.”

  Maria returned her smile. “Thank you, Mrs. Cappelle. Julio is a good boy, a quiet, studious boy who likes music and computers. He would not hurt anyone. My husband is afraid that perhaps by befriending your daughter, his life may have been put in danger.”

  “Danger? How? And why, because of our daughter?” Cornell Cappelle bristled at the accusation.

  “He hinted to me that he had been threatened at school because of his ethnic heritage and because of his friendship with your daughter. I wish I had paid more attention. As his father, I worry, of course. You understand, don’t you?”

  “So there has been trouble at school and at home, am I right, folks?” interjected the captain.

  “Not enough for both of them to disappear like this,” retorted Luis. “We left Texas because of this kind of trouble—gangs and such.”

  “What kind of trouble, Mr. Montague? What do you mean—gangs?” Cornell asked with defiance. “I heard it was your son who was the troublemaker!”

  “Quite the contrary,” retorted Luis. “It was gangs. They ruled the schools there. We left Texas to get a new start for our son, a chance for him to grow up independent and safe.”

  “Was he in a gang? Is that why there’s trouble now?” Mrs. Cappelle asked.

  “No, we think it is your daughter who might be involved in a gang here. That is why there is trouble. I have seen this before. The girlfriends of the gang boys often help them to target the boys.” Luis refused to budge from his belief. It was the only way he could face this ordeal.

  “Nonsense! Romi would never do something like that! And there’s no way she is involved in any gang! She doesn’t even have a boyfriend. And she certainly would not stoop to target your son for another boy to hurt. How dare you!” Cornell was angry enough to fight.

  Mrs. Montague said gently as she touched Cornell’s arm, “We too are hurt when you suggest that my son is involved in the disappearance of your daughter. We are very worried that he might be hurt … or worse.”

  Cornell took her hand in his and exhaled. “I’m sorry. I apologize. Let’s start over, and see if we can get to the bottom of this.” Both mothers smiled and sighed with relief.

  Captain Escaluski pulled up a folding chair and sat between the two families. He thought out loud, “Suppose the problem is not that Romi or Julio are involved in a gang, but that they were both targeted by a gang?”

  Luis responded, “For what reason? Julio is new here—we’ve only been here in Cincinnati a few months. Romiette was his first real friend.”

  Mrs. Cappelle shook her head. “I think it might be a little more than friendship. I saw them looking at each other this afternoon. There was more than friendship in
the looks they gave each other.” She smiled sadly, remembering.

  The captain made note of this and asked, “Do you think they ran away together? Is that a possibility? Maybe they felt threatened and decided to run away from all their problems. Believe me, I’ve seen it happen hundreds of times. And the parents never want to admit it’s a possibility.”

  “My Julio would not run away,” murmured Maria Montague quietly.

  “And I don’t think Romi would either, but maybe we don’t know the whole story,” admitted Romi’s mother.

  “From what Destiny and Ben told us, the kids had some kind of crazy plan to videotape the gang members threatening them. That doesn’t sound like a runaway plot—it sounds to me like their plan went very wrong,” reasoned Cornell. “And we are wasting time here. We’ve got to find them!”

  The captain agreed. “OK. We know that Julio had a hidden camera that he was going to use to catch the gang members and expose them. He wanted to stop the gang from threatening Romi. And we know that Ben and Destiny were supposed to be following in Ben’s car, and in the time that it took to get Ben’s car started again, Romiette and Julio disappeared. Right now, we know nothing for sure about a gang. On the information we have, I’m organizing my men for a full search. Let’s get busy.”

  Cornell checked his watch. “Lady B., I’m going to run down to the station. If I hurry, I can get it at the beginning of the broadcast for the eleven o’clock news. Maybe somebody out there saw something.”

  “Good idea, Cornell. Please be careful. That storm is terrible.”

  “I’ll pick you up after the show. Will you be all right?” he asked, touching the tears on her face.

  “I’m not leaving this place until I hear some good news about my baby,” she said with determination. He smiled, kissed her on the cheek, and hurried outside into the storm. He needed action, and this was something he knew he could do.

  “Oh, God, where are they?” Julio’s mother began to weep again. Romi’s mother held her hand. The thunder outside exploded deafeningly as the rain pelted the window of the police station waiting room.

  44.

  The Eleven O’clock Evening

  MISSING—ROMIETTE CAPPELLE AND JULIO MONTAGUE. Details in a moment.

  —In this modern-day, mystery version of Romeo and Juliet, two young people have vanished. We ask for the help of the public. If anyone has any knowledge of these two young people, last seen walking past London Woods between six and seven this evening, please call District Four police. Romiette Cappelle is the daughter of our own Cornell Cappelle. Cornell, I know this is difficult, but a few words, please.

  —“If you have my daughter, or know where she is, or know anything about where she and Julio Montague might be, please call the station. She’s sixteen years old, and the light of my life. Please. Please.”

  —Pictures of the two young people will be posted throughout the city. There is a five-thousand-dollar reward for any information leading to the recovery of Romiette and Julio. Romiette is sixteen years old, five feet five inches, with brown skin and hazel eyes. Julio is also sixteen, is about six feet tall, and has curly black hair.

  —TV Six has been investigating the increase of gang activity in our schools and our city. After further investigation, we find that reports of gang fights in the high schools and gang recruitment at the junior high level has been discovered. Much of the increased gun violence has been attributed to gang activity. The mayor has appointed a task force to study the matter. News Six will continue to investigate.

  —In the weather tonight, our TV Six meteorologists warn of heavy rain, and maybe even thunderstorms, unusual for this time of the year, heading this way. Not good for two kids who may be in the woods lost or hurt. Details when we return from station break.

  45.

  Romi’s Parents at Home—Midnight

  The Cappelles sat huddled together in their darkened living room. The storm raged outside, and their fears raged inside. Cornell had picked his wife up from the station after the newscast, and even though she didn’t want to leave, he had convinced her that nothing more could be done there tonight. She kept glancing at the telephone, willing it to ring. “Oh, Cornell, I can’t bear it. It’s so long. I will never sleep, never rest, never breathe right again until Romi comes bouncing through that door.” She let herself sob uncontrollably now.

  “Where could they be?” he mused. “I know Romi would have called if she were … OK. Do you think she saw my news report?”

  “If she had seen it, she would have called,” her mother answered sadly.

  “I still think that kid had something to do with all this,” muttered Romi’s father. “If she hadn’t been with him, none of this would have happened. This is your fault, Lady. You shouldn’t have let her go running off with some kid she didn’t even know. You shouldn’t have left her here alone with him!”

  She bristled in response. “Now, don’t you even start that stuff with me. I know you’re upset, and you know that nobody could have foreseen how a study date could turn into such tragedy.”

  “I know, Lady, I’m sorry. I just want to scream! Let’s go looking for her. We can’t just sit here, waiting for them to tell us they found her body!”

  “Sh-sh-sh. They’re gonna find our baby. And she’s gonna be just fine. I have to believe it. I just have to. We’ve gotta wait here in case they call.”

  “Do you think that boy is an innocent victim too, Lady?”

  “I believe the Montague family. I don’t think he’d hurt her. I think he might have been in love with her, Cornell,” she said with a slight smile.

  “Love?” he scoffed. “What does a sixteen-year-old know about love?”

  “That’s how old I was when I fell in love with you, Cornell,” she reminded him quietly.

  “OK, OK, you’re right. But this is my baby girl we’re talking about. She was the light of my life. You know that, Lady.”

  “She still is your light and bright star-child, Cornell. Quit talking in the past tense! We’re going to find them. Both of them.”

  The storm continued, loud and furious. The Cappelles sat silently and waited.

  46.

  Julio’s Parents at Home—2 A.M.

  The Montagues sat at their kitchen table, watching the storm and, like the Cappelles, waiting for the phone to ring. Maria had made a pot of coffee, and they sipped it quietly, wishing and praying that this night would disappear. The puppy slept by their feet.

  “Remember when Julio was a baby,” she said, “and he was so afraid of thunderstorms?”

  Luis smiled. “And then he grew up, determined not to be afraid of anything!” He sighed. “I am afraid, tonight, Maria. Terrified.”

  “I am too. I can’t even bear to pause at all the terrible things my mind makes me think.” She wept quietly.

  “Did we do wrong, Maria, to bring him here away from his friends and relatives?” Luis asked.

  “No, Luis. We agreed it was best. Even Julio was glad to get away from that environment, even though it was hard for him to leave his friends at school. A boy should not have to fight his way through high school just to survive. We made the right choice.”

  “But it seems the fight followed him here in spite of us.”

  “Julio is strong—in his body as well as in his heart and mind. He will come out of this victorious and even stronger. You will see.” Maria believed in her son.

  The phone rang, jangling the silence between Maria and Luis. His hands and voice shaking, Luis picked up the receiver. His wife could tell nothing from the expression on his face, which was impassive. He only said, “Yes, yes. We’ll be right down!” He hung up the phone.

  “Did they find Julio?” his wife entreated.

  “No, but they picked up some kids for speeding. Their car tires match the tire tracks in the park, and they’ve arrested the kids in it.”

  “Kids? Whose car is it?”

  “It was being driven by a boy from their school. Five teenagers, four
boys and a girl, were in the car—all dressed in purple, and all carrying guns.” He paused angrily as he put his coat on. “Sounds like a gang to me! Let’s go.”

  The Montagues arrived at the police station just before the Cappelles. Captain Escaluski met them at the door. “We are taking you to view the young people we arrested. We just want to know if you recognize any of them,” he told the four parents. He led them down a dim hall and into a large room. One wall was a window. Mrs. Montague clutched her husband’s hand in fear. “They can’t see you behind this glass window. Do you recognize any of them?”

  Mrs. Cappelle gasped. “Oh, my—yes! That’s Malaka, Romi’s friend, or at least she used to be. I called her when I got home from work; that’s when I was looking for Romi and couldn’t find her. She sounded a little—strange.”

  “Strange?”

  “Yes.” Mrs. Cappelle paused, trying to remember. “I know she was in a big hurry, and she was very negative about Romi’s relationship with Julio—she called him a foreigner. I don’t know, but I have a feeling she knows something.”

  “Joe, bring her out—I want to talk to her,” the captain ordered. “Do you recognize any of the others, folks?”

  “No, those are not the kinds of kids Romi hangs out with. These are hard-looking, angry young men. Romi would have stayed away from them.”

  “My Julio as well,” said his mother.

  “Are you sure?” the captain insisted. “Kids change, you know, and sometimes parents are the last to know about their children’s activities.”

  “What do you mean, ‘parents are the last to know’? You saying I don’t know my daughter? You saying my daughter is mixed up with these gang kids? I ought to …” Cornell’s anger was getting the best of him again.

  “Cornell, calm down,” his wife soothed. “He’s just trying to cover all his bases. Officer, you must understand. Our daughter is not a part of these young people. She’s home with her family most of the time, she works at my shop with me in her spare time, she’s a fine athlete, and she makes good grades in school. I’ve met most of her friends because they feel comfortable hanging out at our home. She doesn’t even date much. If she’s involved with these young people that you say are connected to a gang, then somehow, for some reason, she has been targeted by them. But understand this clearly, she is not a part of them.”