I felt the sharp points again. "Maybe it got so hot in here the walls kinda melted and reformed."
"Not sure," he shrugged his shoulders. "Pops told me his dad was proud of the rebuild. Helped set the stones on the Baptist church in nineteen thirty. Bet he'd know what happened down here."
Something in my mind clicked. I remembered the plaque on the wall outside. Rising out of the ashes. Now it made sense, since he said the foundations survived the fire. And I think I began to understand why Joseph Cooper couldn't get the clue in his father's poem like I had. The poem his dad wrote that gave me a huge clue: Four street corners—each is holy and Bricks above, I wind below. What if by the time Joseph read the poem there weren't four churches, one on each corner, with one made of bricks? What if there was only one or two because the others were destroyed by fire? Could be why the clue didn't help him at all. And by the time I got around to reading it, all the churches were standing again, when the arsonist's evil work had been completely erased.
"Wait!" He grabbed my wrist and aimed the light at the ceiling, a few feet in front of where we stood, "Did you see—"
Achoo!
"Let's get out of here!" Grabbing my hand, he dragged me along for a minute until he figured out what he was doing and let me go. Pretty inconvenient time to enforce his no-handholding policy. It was enough to throw me off-balance, which he would have noticed if he wasn't so busy saving himself. By the time I looked up, he'd already disappeared around the corner and was yelling for me to hurry.
And I would have—if only I hadn't twisted my ankle. Sprawled out on my stomach, it was then I heard the sneeze again, followed by a loud squealing and flapping noise. Even though I didn't want to, I peeked up through my hair, but buried my head again when I saw it.
A black cloud of flapping wings swooping toward me.
TOP TEN THINGS THAT SUCK ABOUT MY LIFE
10.The devil's spawn followed us to the church. Took all my birthday money to keep his mouth shut. Now we can add bribery to Sam's list of bad deeds.
9.Walked around all day at school with strawberries stuck in my braces until Kelley Coffey said, "Like, who are you? Dracula?"
8.Mom moved out of her veggie soufflé phase into all different kinds of vegan East Indian dishes. Can't someone just give me some mac and cheese?
7.Mrs. Johnson, algebra teacher from the bad-place-that-begins-with-an-h, took my folder. You know she saw my doodling…Mrs. David Perkins in loopy red letters. With hearts. I know. You don't have to say it.
6.Grandma's visiting. Have to sleep on a cot in the demon's room for a week. As usual she'll rearrange my underwear drawer. Wasn't so bad when I still wore underwear with puppies and kittens on them. But, you know, I'm practically a woman now.
5.Forgot gym clothes today and had to wear loaners. Shirt was two sizes too small and had, "PROPERTY OF CROSSLEY PREP" on the back. As if someone's going to steal a bright yellow t-shirt that's made to fit a three-year-old.
4.Ever since I majorly sprained my ankle in the tunnel, Mom's been threatening to get me one of those ankle bracelets the police use to keep track of bad guys.
3.I have bat poop on my best hoodie and can't bring myself to clean it.
2.Dad is on a work trip for a week so he's not around to calm the Unit down.
And the #1 reason my life sucks:
Turns out my math tutor is David, all American boy. He squeezes in tutoring along with his Junior Fireman gig and saving the world. Now he knows I'm a klutz and stupid.
Chapter Four
TUTOR TIME
"Pick you up in an hour," Dad yelled as he drove off. I waved my crutch and looked over at the MATH 4 U sign. It was the biggest one on the building and I hoped no one would see me go in. Couldn't Mom have picked a less obvious place? Like not on the main street where somebody was sure to drive by and see me?
This was my first lesson because of my stupid ankle injury. You should have been there when I had to tell Mom what happened. After Evan helped drag me to my house, I had to wait for her to get off work. Her first question wasn't, "Are you okay?" It was, "So let me get this straight, you didn't go to your tutoring session?" Nice.
A whole week had passed since I'd been deserted in the tunnel with the worst sprained ankle ever. Had to crawl out of the tunnel on my own because my coward of a friend wasn't about to come help me. Not once he saw the bats fly out. To make things worse, Sam was the sneezer who'd scared the crud out of us, not some mystery dude. Demon Boy is extremely good at disguising his voice, so I guess he can disguise a sneeze, too. I wanted to smack him good when I found out. Especially when I had to give him the bribe money so he wouldn't snitch.
The good news was I found a way to get even with the little brat. It's the best revenge ever. The kind which couldn't be tracked back to me. Let's just say it involved a large tube of super glue, Sam's skateboard, and his favorite skater shoes permanently stuck to the grip tape on the board. Mom had a complete coronary. Yelled and told him it was his fault because he'd left his skateboard on the porch again. She was all, "I'm not going to buy you another pair of eighty dollar skateboard shoes for the neighborhood hooligans to destroy." And, "It'll be a cold day in h-e-double-hockey-sticks before I get you another one of those rolling money pits." Yes! It was so sweet.
But that was the only bright spot in the last week. No tunnel searching since I couldn't walk far and the General was keeping tabs on me. The bus doesn't drop off close enough to the church for me to hobble over, so I'll have to wait until I get my air cast off. Waiting was basically killing me because Evan saw something in there—a symbol on the roof of the cave. There was no picture since he chickened out and ran off without taking one. Instead? He told me it looks like a butt.
Yes, you heard right. Now I'm sure if I'd seen it, I'd describe it differently. If only I had a picture as proof. But he's ultimately a boy, despite his love of hair products and mascara, and that's what he saw.
The door of MATH 4 U was right in front of me but I couldn't bring myself to go in. All I'd been doing for the past week was trying not to think about my first tutoring lesson and how to get out of it. But I knew there was no excuse good enough for Mom. She even told me death was the only way out and to, "Go clean your room before your lesson." Trust me, once I saw David's name as my tutor on the appointment reminder card, I've wanted to die for real.
So here I was. Cast, crutches, and another injury which wasn't from the day he and the other firemen pulled me out of the hole. Life is just so awesome sometimes. Especially when your crush has proof of what a klutz you are.
Stalling, I smoothed out my leggings, making sure the tears were in the best possible place—right at the knee, traveling up above my skirt hem. I'm going through an early Madonna phase. If you weren't born in the eighties, you probably don't know what that means. Unless you're like me and have parents who've got a crud load of albums—yes, the black vinyl kind, ‘cause Dad says, "CDs ruin the essence of the studio sound."
Just so you know, I happen to recognize excellent trendsetting when I see it—even thirty years later. Madonna's use of lots of bracelets and necklaces along with black-on-black clothes and exceptionally well-placed holes was truly inspired. I'm setting the trend again, though it hasn't seemed to take off yet. No eighties hair though. Just my mop of puli ringlets—red with some black highlights Evan helped me add after school one day.
"Welcome!" The door jingled and a lady stood there holding it open for me. "With those crutches, I thought you might need some help. I'm Mrs. Swenson, the Program Coordinator here at MATH 4 U." She put finger quotes around the name of the place when she said it. Not annoying at all.
But instead of saying, "Finger quotes? Seriously?" I put on my good-girl face and said, "Oh, hi, I'm Katherine Goldstein." I secretly hoped she hadn't seen me outside, fixing myself up for David. I'd looked ridic enough this week.
"I figured as much by the way David described you—you do know him, right?" She winked at me. It made me feel awkward, like som
ehow she knew about my crush. A more paranoid girl might think so. But still. I couldn't help wondering just a teensy bit.
"Well, come this way. You may see other gifted students from your school giving lessons. My feeling is they're your best teachers because they can speak to you on a level you can understand."
Level I can understand? Is she crazy? If she only knew what a massively bad idea it was matching me up with the cutest boy at school. How was I going to concentrate with those eyes staring at me and his voice…well, you get the picture.
My face felt hot as I followed her between rows of desks, to the back of the place. "I guess I'll leave you here," Mrs. Swenson said when we got to the room where David was waiting. "Good luck, you two!"
I lost my breath for a sec. Why? Because he totally seemed happy to see me. No frown on his face at all. For a minute I was paralyzed by those green eyes and that blond hair, even though I fully wanted to say something cute and funny.
But instead, "Hey" came out, and I threw him a head nod. Not that it mattered. A guy like him wouldn't be interested in a girl like me. He's smart, gets awards for doing community service because he actually wants to, and he's totally cute but doesn't seem to know it. Basically, he's the perfect catch and I realize I'm so not the perfect girl.
"Hey there," he said as he stared down at my cast. "What happened to you? Fall down another hole?"
I guess I should've laughed because Evan says guys like girls who can laugh at themselves. But he's not exactly in the business of finding a girlfriend, so what does he know?
So I lied instead. "My little brother left his skateboard on the porch and I didn't see it. No biggie." I threw my folder onto the table and fell into the chair across from him, like it made no difference to me who my tutor was.
"I know, right? My bro's a pain sometimes, too." His voice was so nice to listen to. "Cool boots."
I tore my eyes away from his face (totally hard, by the way), crossed my good leg over my bad and stared down at my foot. "Thanks!" And here I thought he was strictly an athletic shoe kind of guy. This just made him even cuter. I found the old pair of black calf-high boots down at the thrift store. Kind of a cross between a combat boot and what I imagined Frankenstein's shoes must look like. Cute, right?
"What did you draw on them?" He opened up the math book he had in front of him and picked up his pencil.
"Ah, those are just hearts." I wasn't sure now why I'd decided to draw hearts on my favorite shoes. Wish I could just say I was trying to be ironic—you know, hearts on black combat boots and all. Truth was it was just weird I'd drawn hearts all over the top of my shoe and had no clue why. Had I gotten soft with all this crush stuff on my mind? I so needed to get back to what was important…like finding the tunnels.
Then I remembered the heart I saw on the pillar at the church courtyard the other day. Was it just some strange coincidence, or was my subconscious trying to tell me something?
"No, not the hearts," he said, interrupting my super important thoughts. "The other stuff—on the bottom."
What was he talking about? I slipped off my shoe and flipped it over. Now I'm not going to say I was a little freaked out by what I saw, because it wouldn't be accurate. Try a lot freaked out.
"Don't know what it is," I lied again. I lied because, a) I don't remember drawing anything but the hearts and, b) what person would admit she had a bunch of curvy lines drawn on the sole of her shoe, but no idea where they'd come from?
And here's an FYI: those curvy lines looked suspiciously like tunnels, if you asked me. Of course all I'd had was tunnels on the brain, so I could be biased. Question was, had I been taking so much pain medication for my ankle I didn't even remember drawing them?
Chapter Five
WHODUNNIT
"It's not like I have a wheelchair just lying around," Evan said as he pushed me down Olive Avenue from his house. In a shopping cart. "At least you don't have to walk." He was angry. Guess I couldn't blame him.
"I know, I know," I said as I tried to reposition myself in the cart. It was small and I wasn't the size of a three-year-old, which was about the maximum age to fit in it comfortably.
My lesson today with David went on forever—which normally would've been, well, fantastic. All the time in the world to stare at him. But he'd insisted on actually teaching me. Not only that. He expected me to follow along and come up with some answers. Near impossible when all I could do was think about the tunnels and strange pictures on my shoe by an artist of unknown origin.
To top it off, I couldn't wait to get out of there and talk it over with Evan. Instead of going home, I'd asked Dad to drop me off at his house so I could study more. I felt a twinge of guilt. My inner Girl Scout cringed each time I lied. But I felt I needed to if I wanted to continue my search for the tunnels.
A lot of grunting was going on as my not-so-athletic-friend lifted the cart over the uneven sidewalk, a side effect of one of the many earthquakes and big trees we have in Citrus Grove. "So what's all this weird stuff you were saying about the picture on your shoe?"
I didn't answer—just lifted my foot up for him to see.
"That's it," he yelled, stopping suddenly—which would have thrown me out of the cart…if I wasn't wedged in there so tightly it'd probably take the jaws-of-life to get me out. "It's what I saw down there!"
"What are you talking about?" I stared down at my shoe. "Those are just me getting all arts and craft-y after eating a bag of the Halloween candy Mom already bought. Sam's markers were sitting there on the kitchen table and I went a little crazy I guess. Besides, you told me you saw a butt." I was annoyed because it was the bottom of the shoe he needed to see, not the silly hearts decorating the top.
"Right there—why can't you see it?" He traced his finger around the shape. "See these loopy shapes? It's a butt! What else would you call it?"
"Why don't you try a heart, you creep!" I pulled him around to the side of the cart and bent my leg toward him, showing him the heart right-side-up.
"Oh." At least he seemed embarrassed when he saw what I was talking about.
Then I remembered something else. Hearts on my shoes, Evan saw hearts in the tunnel, and there was a heart on the pillar in the church courtyard. Way too hearty for me. I needed to clear my head of hearts and get him focused.
"Well you have to admit…" He went back around to the cart handle to push again, but I wasn't ready.
"Wait a sec," I said as I pulled my shoe off. "This is what I wanted to show you." I held up the shoe so the bottom faced him. "What do you think these are?" I waited, hoping he'd see it.
"Looks like a tunnel to me." He began walking again. The church was close now. "Why'd you draw it?"
"Or a better question is, why don't I remember drawing it?"
When he finally answered, what he said scared me more than if I'd done the drawing in some altered hypnotic state.
"Well, you did leave your shoe down there when you got hurt. Not sure why you took the time to take it off, but, whatever."
"Thank you, Captain Snarky." He can be so annoying. "I already told you the lace broke while I was at school so my shoe was loose. It slipped off when I fell." Like I'd seriously stay any longer than I needed to with those bats flying all over the place?
"Whatever you say," he said with his most irritated voice. "All I know is, you made me risk my life and go back for it the next day. You and your thrift store boots. Totally ridic."
That's right. I'd forgotten. "So what are you saying exactly?"
"Maybe someone else drew it. Maybe your sneezing brother did it or," he paused and held his right hand up like a gun, "the bearded man who tried to shoot us with his hand gun."
Oh, yeah, he was so funny with all his little jokes. But when I saw his face, he was totally serious—like when he's discussing his favorite brand of makeup or some equally meaningful stuff. "Well, I hadn't thought of that. Not sure I want to, either." I wrapped my arms around my knees to make the shivering stop.
We stopped in front of the Methodist church and I had no help whatsoever as I pulled myself out of the cart. "We can't take our mind off why we're here," I tried to sound like I wasn't worried. "Let's go check out the clue and think about my shoe later."
"Wait just a minute, Miss Cray-Cray. You don't expect me to go down there again, do you?"
"Of course I do!" I was at the top of the stairs and was ignoring the fact he was trying to chicken out. "Don't you want to be a part of this historical discovery?"
"That would be no," he said as he fished in his backpack. "I am officially the boss since I'm a whole year older than you, which means you should listen to me. So since you won't, take this with you and call if you're in trouble. I'll be your point-man up here." He handed me one of his dad's two-way radios which could probably get reception at the North Pole. When he's not running their hardware store, his dad's a volunteer for Citrus Grove's search and rescue team. "Don't tell me you thought I'd actually go down there with those bats again, did you? Not to mention the mystery artist. And don't forget the ghosts."
"Right, ghosts," I teased, pretending like I wasn't at all scared of ghosts or other scary stuff waiting for me in the tunnel. A little bat poop wasn't going to stop me, but I wasn't so sure about the weirdo who'd touched my shoe without asking. Or a visit from the lost souls who've refused to go toward the light. I watch all the ghost hunting shows. I know about that stuff.
I tried again to convince him. "If we're quiet it'll be fine." I gave him the pretty please with sugar on top tone which usually works on people, but today had absolutely no effect on him.
"Like I said, I'll be here if you need me." And that's when he walked away and I knew there was nothing else I could say to convince him to go with me. Once Evan makes up his mind the convo is over, it's completely over.
Guess I was on my own.
Tunnels Page 3