Romiette and Julio

by Sharon M. Draper

  “You mean dead?”

  “Yeah, dead. It’s hard to say the word.”

  “I don’t know, Destiny. I talk big, but I’ve never seen death up close.”

  “Me either. I get the chills just thinking about it.” She shivered.

  “You cold, Destiny?”

  “A little.”

  “Here, take my coat.”

  “Thanks. What about you?”

  “I got a sweatshirt on. I’m OK.”

  Ben glanced at Destiny in the darkness. She sat huddled in his jacket, her face a mask of fear and worry. He knew as she watched the storm that she was visualizing Romi and Julio and trying to imagine what it was like for them, and where they might be on this terrible night. Ben was glad that he was fairly dry, sitting in Destiny’s car, and experiencing the fury of a storm with the faint smell of her hair spray in the air.

  She asked him, “Ben, you ever think about what they’re saying on the news about Romi and Julio having names like Romeo and Juliet?”

  “Yeah, that’s something. It’s heavy the way they fell for each other so quick.”

  “Were there any gangs in the play?” asked Destiny.

  “Not really,” Ben told her. “The families hated each other, and everybody in town sided with one family or the other, just like gangs do, but the play ends with death. Lots of death.”

  “Well, this is real life, Ben,” Destiny whispered. “I don’t think I could deal with death like they did in the play.”

  “I hope you don’t have to,” he said sincerely.

  They talked quietly as they listened to the rain. Ben dozed a few minutes, and Destiny did as well. They were afraid to run the motor very long, but the inside of the car was warm enough. Destiny woke up, startled, with a particularly loud blast of thunder.

  “Wow! That was a big one! But it seems like it’s letting up a bit,” she noted as the rain’s steady drumming on the hood of the car began to diminish a bit. “I’m tired,” she added, “and a little hungry too.”

  “It seems like we’ve been waiting in this car for hours.” Ben stretched his arms and legs as far as the cramped confines of the car would allow. He glanced at the clock. “It’s 2:20. No wonder we’re tired—and hungry.”

  “Oh, my goodness!” exclaimed Destiny. “Get ready to wish!”

  “You got to be kidding! Again?” Ben looked at Destiny as if she had lost her mind.

  “I’m serious as a heart attack!” Destiny fixed her eyes on the clock for another minute. “Okay. 2:22. Wish!” she commanded.

  “OK! OK! I’m wishing!”

  “Me too. Did you wish the same wish as last time?” Destiny sighed with relief that they had not missed it.

  “Yep. You want to know what I wished for?”

  “No, don’t tell me, or it won’t come true,” Destiny warned.

  “Well, I wouldn’t want that to happen,” Ben said, and smiled, then he changed the subject. “I think the rain has slowed down enough to get out and walk and search some more. I’ll feel better knowing at least we tried to look for them. Let’s head down to the lake. It’s down that walkway.”

  Destiny agreed, and they gathered their flashlights and rain gear and headed out into the wet, dark night.

  49.

  Romiette and Julio—The Ordeal

  The old sweatshirt that was pulled over Romi’s head hadn’t been washed in a while and smelled of sweaty male. She screamed, but the sound was muffled. She was held tightly by two sets of very strong arms as she was carried away from Julio and toward—what, she did not know. She could hear Julio kicking and fighting behind her, but the sounds were distant, and when they forced her into the backseat of a car, the two back doors slammed, and she couldn’t hear him anymore. Two silent bodies sat next to her, holding her arms and preventing any movement. When she tried to kick at one of them, he kicked her shin as hard as he could. She refused to cry out, but silent tears fell from her eyes behind the dirty sweatshirt.

  She could hear the trunk of the car being opened, muffled sounds of scuffling and cursing, and then a thud as something was tossed into the trunk. She knew it was Julio. She prayed he was safe. The trunk slammed, the car doors opened, the rest of the four gang members squeezed in, and the car sped off. It had all happened in two minutes.

  No one spoke. They knew where they were headed. Romi strained to hear sounds of movement from the trunk, but she could hear nothing. The car turned left three times, then drove over what seemed to be a gravel roadway. She could hear the crunching under the tires and the ping of stone against metal as the pebbles hit the car. They slowed to a stop.

  The gang members opened the car doors. Romi was pushed from one side and pulled to the other as she was forced from the car. She could just see the gravel under her feet from where the sweatshirt over her head had twisted a bit. She could smell the water nearby. She started to panic. Since they hadn’t driven very far, Romi figured they were near London Woods Lake. It was a large lake, popular with fishermen and boaters in the summer. But at this time of year, it was cold, bleak, and virtually deserted.

  Romi had never been so scared in her life. She trembled as she stood there, afraid to run because of the guns she knew they had, afraid to call out to Julio, but alert, listening, and ready to take advantage of whatever might happen. No magical chances appeared. She heard them open the trunk and grunt as they lifted Julio out. There was no sound from him, and Romi could detect no movement. The two guards still held her tightly. She couldn’t even turn her head to listen for a flicker of noise or action from him. She only heard the dull thud of Julio’s body being dropped on the gravel about three feet from her. She started to tremble uncontrollably. Julio couldn’t be dead! There was no gunshot, and he hadn’t been in the trunk long enough to lose consciousness. But no sound came from the direction of where she knew he lay.

  Suddenly her arms were jerked tightly behind her. She cried out in pain as they tied the ropes around her wrists and arms. The hood was pulled tighter over her face, making her breath come in short, shallow gasps as she struggled for air through the fabric. They dragged her then to what she knew was the edge of the water. As she struggled, one of her shoes came off. Her terror grew. Fear for Julio, fear of what they would do to her, and fear of the water made her struggle frantically as they forced her down the path. She screamed, her breath puddling in hot gasps inside the sweatshirt over her face. Still, they pushed her toward the water.

  Romiette felt herself being lifted into something hard and wooden. It smelled wet and moldy, and was damp as her knees landed on it. She knew it was a boat when they made her kneel in the bottom of it, head down, arms tied hind her back. She felt them wrap more rope around her as they tied her, still kneeling, to the seat of the boat. She could not move. Her knees hurt, her back began to throb, and her shoulders ached as she lay there tied in the bottom of the damp wooden boat. She was weeping loudly now, begging for mercy, for a loosening of the ropes, for help. Still no one spoke. All was silent.

  She heard them lift Julio next with silent grunts. They seemed to be tying him just as they had tied her, on the other side of the center seat. She could hear a muffled groan as Julio began to regain consciousness. Romi cheered and thought that perhaps there was hope after all. She willed him to speak, to gain strength, to throw off these devils who were hurting them. She knew he could do it! Then, she heard a thunk as they hit him in the back of his head once more. He dropped, ceased to struggle, and once again, all was silent. All she could hear was her own sobbing tears and the lapping of the waves against the side of the boat.

  They pushed the boat into the water then. Romiette screamed in terror. To be in this much water, with night approaching, tied helplessly in the bottom of a boat, was more than she could bear. She pulled at the ropes, hysterical now, as she felt the boat begin to bounce upon the waves of the lake. She pulled and strained every muscle, using every ounce of her strength to get free, to get away from the terror. She heard one of the gang members sp
lash into the water with a curse. Then a bright, throbbing pain exploded at the base of her neck and Romi was silent and still.

  The car sped away, gravel rattling the bottom of it as it headed back to the main road. Silence settled on the scene. The night crept quietly and deeply over the lake. Darkness filled the small wooden boat in which Romiette and Julio floated helplessly. A faint rumble of thunder threatened in the distance.

  50.

  The Dream and the Reality

  It was the dream. Romi knew she’d have to call her mother for this one. Every muscle in her body ached. Her shoulders were screaming, her knees throbbed, and she couldn’t breathe. She felt the terror, but didn’t feel the water. She smelled it, but there were no flames. This dream was different, and much worse. Romi groaned, and her eyes opened suddenly. All was darkness. She reached for her bedroom light, but her arms wouldn’t budge, She could hear thunder in the distance, could feel a stiff breeze on her back. Had she left the window open? She struggled to wake up and then the pain in her head returned, and she remembered. She began to weep as she remembered it all: the ropes, the boat, the fear, the cruel blow to the back of her head, and Julio. Was he alive?

  She struggled to speak. “Julio! Julio!”

  All was silent. Julio did not move. Although she could do nothing with the ropes that held her, Romi found that if she twisted her head from side to side, the sweatshirt over her face moved a bit. Slowly she shook it off, like a dog shakes off a hated collar. The cool night air rushed into her lungs, and she breathed deeply and thankfully. It was pitch dark. No moon shone in the cloud-covered sky, and the rumblings of thunder were becoming loud and powerful. She couldn’t tell how far into the lake they had floated; she couldn’t see either shore. The air was as black as the sky and water. It was cold, and a few hard, dark raindrops hit her back. No hope floated with them. Romi wept.

  The rain began to pelt them, and the wind increased. The boat rocked helplessly in the water, and Romi screamed in terror once again. Julio stirred and groaned, the cold water and wind forcing him into consciousness. He gasped for breath as Romi had, and Romi let hope enter her heart once more.

  “Romi! Please be OK,” Julio pleaded.

  “Yes, Julio, I am. My arms hurt where the ropes are too tight, my knees and shoulders are killing me, but I think I’m OK. I’m so scared, Julio. What about you? Are you OK?”

  “I think so,” Julio replied groggily. “We gotta get loose, get these ropes off. Big storm coming, Romi.” Dazed and silent for a moment, he tried to make his mind think clearly.

  “What are we going to do, Julio?” Romi’s voice jarred him back to reality. “I’m sure our parents are looking for us, and the police are too. They are, don’t you think?” Romi asked, suddenly doubtful.

  “Sure, they’re looking,” Julio said, trying to reassure her, “but do you think they’ll find us? If we’re on London Woods Lake, it’s big, and it’s dark, and it’s getting ready to storm.”

  “They’ll never find us in a storm,” Romi said, worried. “I wonder what time it is. My head hurts.”

  “They’ll find us—don’t worry. Or if not, we’ll find a way out of here ourselves,” Julio said with a certainty he didn’t feel.

  “Out of a boat in the middle of the lake? I can’t swim, Julio! I can’t swim! I’m so afraid. All that blue and nothing to hold on to.”

  The small boat rocked on the increasingly strong waves of the lake. They could hear the sloshing of the water on the sides. Water splashed into the boat, and the rain pelted them from above. Julio said quietly, “Hey, Romi! Remember our talk about adventures and fantasies? Well, we’ve got a real one on our hands here. I’m a good swimmer, remember, and remember this—I won’t let anything happen to you, you got that?”

  Romi didn’t know whether to cry or to giggle. “If I wasn’t so scared and stiff and didn’t hurt so bad,” she said to Julio in the darkness, “I think I’d like the idea of being curled up in the bottom of a boat with you!”

  “You’re a sick puppy, Romiette.”

  “Why did they do this to us, Julio? I’m so scared.”

  “Who knows? Right now we’ve got to get loose. Let’s see if we can wriggle out of these ropes. Can you move your hand at all?”

  She tried, but her hands, wet and cold, wouldn’t cooperate. “I can’t move my fingers!” she wailed. “My hands are numb. My whole body is soaked and freezing. I’m so cold. I can’t do anything! We’re going to die here.”

  “We are not going to die here. Now force yourself. Wiggle those fingers and pull at the end of your rope. There you go. That’s better.”

  Romi worked silently as she struggled with her bonds. She could hear Julio’s breathing, raspy and thin, as he labored to do the same. Then she said quietly, “I’m scared, Julio.”

  “I am too, Romi. But we are going to get out of this. I swear to you. The ropes on my hands are almost untangled. I think this is the last one.” Julio sat up slowly and painfully, rubbing his arms and wrists, thankful for the rain that fell and cooled the rope burns.

  Romi managed to loosen the last of her rope as well. Julio helped undo the ropes tying her to the boat. “I’m free,” she told him victoriously. As she tried to sit up, she groaned, “Oh, the pain. Julio, I can hardly move.”

  “Me either. But I think we’re gonna have to move quickly. This storm is getting pretty bad.”

  Lightning, which had flashed in the distant sky, was now right above them. Trees in the distance stood like gaunt sentinels of the lake, brightly illuminated by the fierce flashes. Another streak of fire pierced the sky and pointed itself at one of the trees. It glowed, then flashed, then cracked and burned like firewood. For a moment it was a torch, then the rain and wind doused the flame and the smell of burning wood drifted across to Romiette and Julio, who huddled together in the bottom of the little boat. As the wind intensified and churned the water, the small boat was tossed about mercilessly. Rolling explosions of thunder shook the sky, the earth, and the water. The whole world shook with noise and power. Finally the rain pelted them with fury. Lightning sizzled as it struck the water, and the lake itself seemed to be contorted in anger. Julio and Romiette sat huddled together, terrified, trembling, tossing in the bottom of the boat.

  “Can you die of noise, Julio?” Romi asked between bursts of thunder and flashes of lightning.

  “I don’t know if noise ever killed anybody, but fear sure did.” Once more the thunder exploded above their heads.

  “I’ve never seen lightning up close like this before,” Romi exclaimed, amazed at the spectacle in spite of her fear. “It’s so wild. Like God spitting fire from his fingernails!”

  “And then crashing mountains together!” Julio said in awe. Both of them realized the danger they were in. “We’ve got to get out of this boat, Romi,” Julio said with certainty.

  Romi’s heart quickened. Fear spoke first. “I’m not getting out of this boat! You must be crazy! If I get out of the boat and in the water, I will die! No doubt about it—I’m just gonna sink to the bottom and die!”

  “Not if I can help it. Let’s see now, where are the oars—they ought to be attached to the side, right?” Julio felt for the place where the oars ought to be.

  “I can’t see much, but I don’t think there are any oars here, Julio.”

  “They took them, of course.” Julio sighed.

  “Now what?” Romi asked.

  “Are your hands still stiff from the ropes, Romi?”

  “They’re OK. What do you want me to do?”

  “Let’s see if we can paddle this thing by hand.” They each moved to a side of the small boat and placed their hands in the cold water. On a summer day, streaming a hand in the water playfully was a pleasant and soothing experience. But their hands soon became numb as they tried to move the boat in the frigid, churning water. The boat made no progress.

  “It’s raining so hard and the lightning is so close!” Romi yelled through the downpour.

  Julio ha
d been in storms in a boat before, but never a storm this intense, and never alone. He knew they were a sure target for a bolt of lightning. “We gotta get out of this boat, and off this water, Romi! That lightning is too sharp and too close. It’s gonna hit us!”

  “I can hardly hear you! The thunder is roaring so much! The whole world is exploding!” screamed Romi. She laughed then, in spite of the situation. Julio, curly hair dripping, drenched and weary, was illuminated for a moment by the lightning. He looked awful. She knew she didn’t look much better. “Look at us, Julio! And to think I worried this afternoon about how my hair would look for you.”

  Julio looked at Romi’s matted hair and soaked clothes and tossed more water on her. They both laughed so hard, they forgot their plight for one brief moment. Then a bolt of lightning speared past them and landed with a flaming, steaming sizzle in a tree about ten feet up the shore. It jarred them back to reality.

  “Oh, my Lord! That one was close!” Romi cried, suddenly serious and frightened again.

  Julio told her clearly, “We’ve got to get out of this boat, Romi.”

  “NO!” she screamed. “I’ll drown!”

  “I won’t let you drown.” Julio lowered himself into the freezing water. He gasped at the coldness of it. He held out his hand to her. “Take my hand. Hold on to me. I will not let you go.”

  “No, Julio, I’m terrified of water. I’ll pull you down. I can’t do it.” She let go of his hand and sat shaking in the boat.

  “Romi, the lightning is hitting trees on shore. It will hit this boat. I know it.” In the flashes of lightning she could make out his face, pleading and full of concern not for himself but for her. “Come on, Romi. You’ll be fine.”

  Trembling, she seized his hand and let him lead her over the side of the boat. He lowered her slowly and carefully into the water. Romi was stiff with fear and cold. She barely dared to breathe. He helped her grab the side of the boat and bent her numb fingers so she could grasp it better. The water sloshed onto her face and she gasped, but Julio lifted her so her head was above the waterline. “Please don’t let me go,” she said, trembling.