Innocent Ride

by Robertson, Alethea

  “No, I’ll try it.”

  He grinned and repeated the setup. Then he walked me to the same spot he’d been shooting from, propped up my arms, and placed the butt in my shoulder. His arms wrapped around me. There was that feeling again…safe. I tried to remember if I felt that way with Robbie. Or if safe was enough. Perhaps it could be more. My thoughts rested on the small, smoky vial buried in my purse.

  “Go,” he said, stepping back.

  I didn’t have to do much. I barely touched the trigger and I was forced back by the power of the weapon discharging round after round. Reflexively, I pushed into the force. Energy rushed through me, the sound in my ears, reverberating throughout my body. It was so much power in my hands.

  After a few rounds, we sat down on the haystacks. Occasionally, I could feel Angel’s pensive regard. As light faded, conversation began to wind down. He insisted on cooking me dinner. I followed him inside.

  As he cooked, I watched, thinking way too much. The aroma of Italian spices filled Angel’s kitchen. He really was the perfect guy. Who could get any more perfect? He was independent, he knew what he wanted, he read fiction…sometimes…. But…. If Angel was so perfect, why couldn’t I stop thinking of Robbie? Why couldn’t I feel for Angel like I did for Robbie? I knew I felt something for Angel, but I couldn’t identify it. Could it be that what Robbie and I had wasn’t love at all, but just lust…or something? Why did I crave that connection so much? How could I have that connection with Angel?

  The answer to that last question was always the same. I could. All the power was mine. I instinctively patted my purse sitting on the counter next to me. One drop is all you need, Alice had said. If we took it, neither of us would know any different. It’d be happily-ever-after, even if it wasn’t real.

  We ate on his living room floor at the coffee table, barefoot and relaxed. Angel poured two glasses of wine.

  “Have you ever been in love?” I asked.

  He choked on his pasta. I couldn’t tell if he was coughing or laughing, but his face was beet red. “No one’s ever asked me that.” Then he regarded me, immediately back to his usual self. “You sure you want to know?”

  I nodded and scooted toward him, cross-legged.

  He leaned into the couch frame, stroking his chin. “Yes, I was in love once…with a married woman. Not something I’m proud of, but it wasn’t really my choice, was it? I felt a stronger power had brought us together. She was in a…dysfunctional marriage. Still is, in fact. You met her husband at Oliver’s party.” He chuckled. “Or maybe I should say you decked him.”

  “That guy? He’s married?”

  “See what I mean?”

  “Yeah, she needs out of that.”

  He shook his head. His voice was almost longing. “Don’t think she’ll ever get out.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry. You found the one, your princess, and you couldn’t have her.”

  Crimson shaded Angel’s cheeks again and he looked down, strands of raven falling against his temple. “You could say that, if you wanted.” He shook his head. “After a few years, I realized she couldn’t be the one.”

  “Why not?”

  He shrugged. “I got over her.”

  Just like that. I looked out the window. A gray cat chased a black cat across his meticulous lawn.

  “You were able to just turn it off?”

  “Well, not at first. But eventually, I realized I just had to decide. So, I decided. The pain…it’s gone now.”

  I studied him. His next question brought me back to earth.

  “You’re still in love with him, aren’t you?”

  I felt my shoulders slump and my chest hit the floor of my stomach. “What makes you say that?”

  “Heartache is written all over you.” He gestured at me.

  I shook my head. “What are you doing with me, Angel?”

  “I don’t know.” He shrugged. “Candace, from what I can see, I’d say your guy is nuts for not being with you right now.” He lifted my chin. “I’d snatch you up in a heartbeat, if I believed you could be mine.”

  I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. Then what the heck was he still doing here? If only I could have felt for Angel what I felt for Robbie. Angel was the right choice. I was finally beginning to understand Catherine’s conflict.

  Angel studied me cautiously, lovingly. I thought again about the potion. If I put it in our glasses now, this conversation wouldn’t make any sense, Robbie would be a distant mistake, and Angel would be the one I loved forever. He would be mine and I would be his. Wasn’t that what I should want?

  Chapter 18

  AT HOME ALONE, after finishing a load of laundry, my laptop and I plopped on the couch to answer readers’ questions on my latest blog post. It got me thinking. I tried to think of ways around the Department of Ag’s denial. The words of the ancient book came back to me. The universe is mental. And Alice saying, That’s the real magic.

  We create from the mind…. I must have fallen asleep with that thought, because the next thing I knew, the living room window’s morning light was a ray across my face. And the thought was still in my mind.

  I stood and stretched and stared out the window.

  The sky was divided; the south, a pure, serene blue, lightly dusted with iridescent white. To the north, a light blanket of silver draped across the sky, swelling into a vast, thick wall of increasingly darker shades of gray in the far north. Undecided ridges of silver and white dotted a line down the center. The sun’s rays slivered in from the south irregularly, and the soft wind burst with sudden, sporadic gusts.

  Trees rustled outside, restless, twisting breezes through the window. They cooled my body. I pulled the vial from my pocket, where I’d put it after Angel had dropped me off, so tiny, yet so potent, its smoky liquid swirling in its own turmoil. Angel was taking me to work this morning, though I couldn’t see why he would, after what he’d concluded last night. Why was he even still around?

  I walked upstairs to my room, where I set the potion on the dresser and changed into something I could wear to work. After slipping into Shannen’s hug, I clicked my sparkly red heels together and picked up the vial again. It made me feel like I was in total control. Somehow, my spirit lifted. Alice’s book came to mind again.

  The universe is mental. We create mentally. That’s the real magic, Alice had said. What was I creating? What was I thinking? Before I could search for answers, there was a sudden knock at the door. Odd, because I couldn’t normally hear a knock from all the way upstairs. But it was so loud. I looked at the clock. Too early to be Angel. Who would knock on my door at six a.m.?

  It made me think of something Angel had said, that he’d thought of throwing pebbles at my window. I looked out the window. No one was there. But golf balls of ice were dropping from the sky, bouncing off the ground. That had been no knock at the door. The storm had arrived.

  Just then the storm sirens sounded. Thankfully, we had a basement. I headed downstairs to the kitchen. The lights flickered. That was when I thought it best to look up weather news. The usual precautions were recited. Take cover. Don’t go out. If you’re in a car, pull over to a ditch. Etcetera.

  I found the storm bag and checked its supplies. All was there. I added a little extra food and water and packed my laptop. If I was going to be in the basement, I was going to get some work done. It was time to update the affiliate links on my site, anyway.

  At that moment, the frantic ring of my cell wrenched me from my focus. I froze, mid-turn, at the very familiar image flashing. My heart soared into my throat and lodged there for a moment.

  “Robbie?”

  “Ms. Stone?” The voice said, though it sounded…different.

  “Robbie?” My heart thudded louder than the hail outside.

  “Mmm, no. This is his brother,” the voice said dryly. My heart retreated. “I have Robbie’s phone. Your number is a frequently dialed number…er, it was. Says Candace, is that right?”

  “That’s me.”

/>   “I was just…looking for Robbie?” After a slight pause, as if realizing something for the first time, he added, “Ms. Candace Stone?”

  “Yes….” Just how much did he know about me?

  “Are you the one with the license issue?”

  “Um….” That much, huh?

  “For the kombucha” (which he pronounced koom-ba-chu) “brewery? Well, this explains it….”

  Well, that’s nice, I didn’t say.

  The voice sighed, as if losing an argument. “Your license issue has been taken care of.”

  Okay, call me slow, but all I could think to say was, “Um…this is Robbie’s brother? But—”

  “Robbie explained your…situation. I’m with the Department of Agriculture. From your response, I’m going to assume he hasn’t told you.” Now that I was paying attention, his voice didn’t sound like Robbie’s at all. It was actually more monotone and uninteresting, and there was a tone to it that seemed…a bit complacent. Maybe I was a little biased. “About the licensing, Ms. Stone. You’re free to brew.”

  “Oh.” That’s what he was trying to say. “Um…thank you…um…?”

  “Mr. Curtis,” he said, then cleared his throat. It made me think of a child being forced to apologize for a wrongdoing. “Please, call me Verne.” His name was Verne? Robbie and Verne. “Right now, however, Ms. Stone, I have a question for you. I thought you might know where Robbie is…?”

  “Robbie? With me?” My voice was shrill. “I haven’t seen him.”

  “This is troublesome. We can’t find him. His car’s here. Storm’s coming. We usually meet at my parents’ for days like this. If he’s on his bike….”

  “He’s not with me.” I swallowed, hoping he’d tell me more. When he didn’t, I probed. “Was he upset about something…?”

  “I’m afraid so. He and our parents had a little…tiff.”

  Tiff?

  “I try to stay out of their tiffs. Something about his ex-girlfriend.”

  He’d said ex-girlfriend. Could that be Lucy? Did that mean they weren’t together?

  Verne continued. “Our parents can be a bit…overbearing.”

  “Do you know what happened with his ex-girlfriend?” Hey, I had to ask!

  I could feel his hesitation, then a long sigh. “I know about the affair.”

  That made my heart stop. Robbie’s family knew I was the other woman?

  “Last year, Lucy had an affair with her boss’s son.”

  Oh. That certainly changed things. Probably not something Robbie wanted people to know. I was about to probe some more when Verne continued.

  “She told Robbie she had to choose between the two, so Robbie tried to win her back. After that, he realized it was in vain. He didn’t love her.” He cleared his throat, as if he’d said too much. “Last time I talked to him, he said he didn’t want to be found—you don’t happen to know….”

  My chest fluttered, then dropped into my stomach again. It was his parents—that was what he wasn’t telling me. Could they be that strong an influence? I thought about it. Of course they could. They were his parents, the strongest influence in anyone’s life. But why would they be involved in his love life? Did that even happen anymore?

  If our connection was destined, the universe would guide me. Pay attention to your intuition, Alice had said. He didn’t want to be found. I come here when I don’t want to be found, he’d once told me. That meant he was out for a walk…in the storm. The revelation brought me back to our first kiss, on the bike, alone, at the place so close to his house. But if Robbie was avoiding his family, I wasn’t going to rat him out.

  “I…um…I’ll see if I can find him,” I finally told his brother. It wasn’t a total lie. I really was going to try to find him. I just didn’t tell Verne where I thought Robbie was.

  After hanging up, I rushed out to my car, but the huge empty space in the garage reminded me I’d left it at work. And Angel would be here soon—if the storm was over. I grabbed my cell and pressed the last person dialed. After leaving a hopefully coherent message on Carrie’s voicemail, I tried Oliver. Another voicemail. Then Pete. Voicemail.

  What was the universe trying to say? Why would it dangle this information before me and not give me the means to do anything about it? I stood there staring at Robbie’s abandoned bike, briefly paralyzed.

  Then I opened the garage door. It didn’t look too bad outside. The wind might have been howling, but the hail was gone and there was no rain, not yet. I ran inside, frantically searching for the keys. They were still on the kitchen counter where Robbie had left them. I grabbed them and the riding glasses he’d bought me, then searched my room for a hair band.

  Back in the garage, I mounted and started Roxanne. Her pipes blared and cracked, vibrating my seat. I eased out of the drive and through the neighborhood, slowing to a crawl, walking the bike to turn onto our country road. Then I was out on the open road, our road.

  Thunder cracked, loud and boisterous, from somewhere ahead of me, as if to warn me. The wind was a strong force, flailing my ponytail. Thankfully, the rain hadn’t started yet. My heart pounded. I followed the road to the edge of town.

  I accelerated, wrenching the throttle and popping the clutch. My ponytail thrashed at the speed. I could feel it whipping the back of my head and neck. The needle was pegged at 50mph. The rain was getting closer. I could smell it, the scent carried to me by the rippling wind that flattened grasses in its path.

  Then I felt the first drop. It stung my bare skin like a bee, making me realize that in my haste I’d forgotten a jacket. That was stupid. It was too late, and the rain knew it. It started pelting me like bullets. The stings were glacial, penetrating my flesh like a thousand needles at once, over and over. But I pressed on through the pain, gritting my teeth. I could be the only one who knew where to find Robbie. He needed me. Even Alice’s predictions couldn’t stop me. Deaths in your previous lives were very…unusual and unexpected, she’d said. Don’t take any unnecessary risks.

  Was it unusual to die in a motorcycle accident? Probably not, but how about on a motorcycle in the rain? Or in a tornado? I looked at the thick gray curtains ahead of me. The incessant stinging of the rain was too much and I finally had to pull over. I gripped the handles and eased Roxanne to a stop.

  The ground was wet beneath my feet, and I realized I was still wearing the red slip-ons Shannen had picked out for me. Stray grass stuck to them. The rain didn’t hurt at 0 mph, but it was definitely too cool for my comfort level. I could wait it out, I told myself, trying not to focus on the darkened clouds rolling my way.

  At least I wasn’t far from the church. I could see the hill from here, and the top of the ominous steeple peeking above the hill’s mushrooming trees. The rainbow fields were on the other side, hidden from the main road, but I knew they were there. Robbie was there, too. I could feel it. He was lost and alone, probably soaking and shivering by now, waiting out the storm before he could walk home again. He didn’t know about the tornado warning.

  Then, as if following a command from the universe, the rain stopped. Or it switched directions. Thank you, I motioned to the universe. But it was too soon.

  I looked toward the hill. Directly above it, a wall cloud was forming, thick and pluming, and…violently still. Robbie had to be seeing the same thing. I could see the hill’s base, and the turnoff to the narrow meandering road that led through the thick of the trees to the top. I wasn’t as far away as I thought. This was my chance.

  “C’mon Roxanne!” I screeched. I let go of the clutch and twisted the throttle, wrenching her into gear. She skidded a moment until she found traction and then leaped forward. The humid air hurtled past. I made it hurtle. I made the wind.

  Then we slowed, only a little, and without thinking, I leaned into the bike onto the church road. Then I lifted myself, empowered. Together, we meandered up the winding, tree-lined lane. At the top of the hill, through the break in the trees, the towering steeple eased into view.

  R
oxanne and I circled the church slowly, scanning every shadow, my heart racing. “Robbie!” I called, over and over, until my throat burned. But the wind was roaring. I could barely hear Roxanne’s grumble. I clutched the handlebars. Pressure increased and my ears started to pop, as if I was on a plane ten thousand feet in the air.

  “Robbie!” I screamed again. But with the storm, there was no way he would be able to hear. The rain returned. Thunder bellowed in my ears, as if I was riding at 80mph. I forced myself against the hard air. It whipped the rain in my face, burning my eyes. Robbie was nowhere. And now I needed a place for me and Roxanne.

  A short distance from the side patio the grass ditched into a steep trench, then rolled up slightly and flattened into a small meadow. I rolled the bike into the trench and parked it, then turned back toward the church. I was halfway there when I realized my foot was soaked. I looked down just as lightning illuminated the lot. The soaking foot was bare, and I hadn’t noticed until I’d drenched it in a shallow, rippling puddle.

  I gasped and turned around. Shannen’s hug! He would be crushed! I retraced my steps, lightning occasionally illuminating the grounds. Thunder rolled. In the brief light, I could see the entire front lot. No shoe. It must be in the trench. Then I heard something I did not expect.

  It was the honey velvet voice I knew so well. It sent a chill up my spine, warming my insides. I could hear it even through the overbearing storm roaring like a freight train and shaking the ground. It was as if the voice was only in my head. I swept the ground in frantic glances. The tumultuous cloud was everywhere I turned, flattening distant trees like blades of grass. I could feel the pressure in my head, and I wanted to pop my ears.

  The violent wall surrounded me and the church, encasing me with nowhere to hide. Yet right where I stood, it was still undeniably calm, so seductive that if I closed my eyes and plugged my ears, I could have believed the storm around me didn’t exist. I knew I’d heard his voice. Have I already hit my head? Was I twisting high above ground in the broken building? Was I…dead? Only in the afterlife could sound be this sweet. Then something touched my shoulder.