Innocent Ride

by Robertson, Alethea

  I whipped around and fell into Robbie’s arms. Robbie! He must be dead, too, I thought. But he felt so real, his flesh warm with running blood. He held up my shoe and did the unthinkable. He kneeled, lifted my leg, and slipped the sparkling red shoe around my bare, dirty foot.

  Now should be our epic kiss and then we would live happily ever after. But there was no kiss. Instead, Robbie’s perfect lips formed a line across his face as he slugged out of his leather jacket.

  “What are you doing here?” he shouted, though I could only read his lips now. He draped the jacket around me. His drenched hair clung to his face. I slipped my arms into his sleeves without thinking.

  I blinked back, fully aware that I was, indeed, alive. I had to think of something. Quick. “What are you doing here?”

  He didn’t answer. Instead, he turned around, dragging me by the arm into an inlet of the church patio, where I could hear a little better. “This is too dangerous, Candace! Especially on the bike!” His words stung more than the rain had on the way here. They made me angry.

  “What about you? You’re on foot. How smart was that?” I stopped and crossed my arms.

  “Never mind me, look!” He pointed to the storming gray directly above us, slowly twisting in a dangerous, circular pattern. I looked to the gusts surrounding the church property, realizing. Robbie didn’t have to explain. Growing up in Kansas, you learned the implications of such patterns. The airstream was gathering its strength. And Robbie was still shouting. “We need to get out of the storm! The ditch won’t save us from this! We need to be underground!”

  “Not until you tell me why you’re here.” I deserved that. He brushed his fingers through his drenched hair. He shook his head.

  “Okay. Fine. I’ll tell you. But let’s get out of the storm first. Over here.” He pulled me like a scolded child closer to the wall. “There’s a cellar entrance around the corner, but it has a padlock on it. There’s nothing to hit it with or throw at it. I’ve been looking.” Then he got a sharp look in his storming eyes and time stopped. Eerie stillness surrounded us. “Wait here!” He turned back toward the bike. I knew exactly what he intended to do.

  “Robbie! NO!” My voice was shrill. “It’s too dangerous!”

  “Not any more dangerous than sitting in this storm!” He was right about that and I couldn’t say anything.

  “Then I’m coming with you!” I shouted above the storm.

  “No, Candace.” He grabbed my shoulders, forcing me against the wall. “I can’t do this if I’m concerned for you. Don’t take any unnecessary risks.” Alice’s words flashed in my mind, then Shannen and my mom. He was right this time. I couldn’t leave them. “Once I’m in—in case I don’t make it—I want you to get in there as fast as you can.”

  In case he doesn’t make it? Robbie turned around and ran, disappearing down the ditch. A few seconds later, I saw the bike racing out of the trench, flinging muddied grass behind it. For a second, time stopped—Robbie and the bike were airborne. I closed my eyes, holding a protective light over him in my mind. He was my Romeo. There was no doubt in my mind in this moment. Did that mean we could be together only in death? I held my breath, imagining him inert at the bottom of the cellar. My body wavered at the thought. What would I do if that happened? I instinctively patted my pocket, the bulge from the vial prominent under my fingers. Any more than a drop, and….

  I opened my eyes just in time to see the bike touch ground. Relief rippled through me, though only for a second.

  Robbie sped across the narrow backroad and disappeared around the church corner. What was he thinking to do some stupid motorcycle trick? I paced the inlet, jumping at each jolt from the sky, trying desperately to keep negative images from my wild imagination. But all I could see was Robbie’s lifeless body in my mind. What was taking so long? I peeked around the corner to see Robbie on the bike at the far edge of the lot. He was facing the cellar entrance, his boots flat on the pavement. Then, in an instant, Roxanne bolted from across the parking lot toward the cellar, her speed accelerating with each second, bulleting Robbie toward danger. And there was nothing I could do. I couldn’t watch. I couldn’t look away. Then it happened.

  The bike’s front end cracked through the cellar entrance with a crash so loud it competed with the thunder. I barely saw Robbie duck as he and the bike disappeared inside.

  “Robbie!” I shouted, though it was in vain. The wind was a tidal roar, vibrating the ground beneath us. I ran to the entrance.

  The ground trembled again as I reached the cellar steps, pausing a second to see the north wall moving closer, as if gearing up to pulverize us. My ears popped. I ducked in and down the ancient steps, dodging broken planks. I could hear a faint groan. Was that the engine still running?

  Roxanne’s headlight illuminated my path. At the bottom of the steps, Robbie lay half under the bike. My heart shot into my throat. I raced to him, my heart pounding more forcefully than the storm at the cellar door. I killed the engine. I had to get Robbie out of the entrance, away from debris that could fly through here at any moment.

  I put all my strength into lifting the heavy beast—but I couldn’t. The bike budged a little as I strained and struggled…. But she refused to give me any victory. It was hard to believe I’d once had power over this beast, all this power between my legs. Now, here in the middle of the storm, in a dark cellar, I was powerless.

  No. That couldn’t be true. I took a deep breath, concentrating, and this time I leaned my back against Roxanne’s seat. Using my legs, I pushed back as hard as I could. She lifted, barely, just enough for me to shove Robbie’s leg away from Roxanne, though I was unsure where that strength came from because Robbie’s leg was no light matter either.

  My legs gave and the bike dropped behind me.

  I dropped to my knees, recouping, breathing. My entire body burned, like my insides had been stretched out, every single muscle torn. But the sight of Robbie renewed my vigor. I frantically searched for signs of life somewhere, anywhere, on his body. I pressed two fingers against Robbie’s neck until I felt his blood pulse beneath his skin. Relief embraced me like an old friend. I lifted Robbie’s head, checking his body for injuries. But the only light came from Roxanne, and she was facing the wrong way, so I practically had to feel my way around his body.

  I had to get him into the next room, away from the entrance. But for a moment, Robbie’s angelic face, so peaceful in sleep, even in the shadow, made me hesitate. I really could have him. All I had to do was decide.

  I held his head in my lap, digging two fingers into my crumpled pocket and tweezing out the tiny glass of smoldering liquid. Just one drop, or you shall surely die, Alice had said.

  I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I couldn’t poison my love into loving me. For a moment, I couldn’t move, entranced by my love’s perfect lips. I pressed mine to his. They were lifeless. Then, I felt his bottom lip move. I wrenched back. “Robbie?”

  The gale howled and whistled at the entrance. There was a crash from above, loud and reverberating. I looked up. Another gust, a thud, and…all was black.

  MY BODY TREMBLED. I opened my eyes. The dim light revealed only shadows at first. It took me a moment to realize where I was. I felt the pounding behind my right eye. My head throbbed like it’d been hit by a brick. Then I remembered. I bolted upright to find Robbie holding the vial up to the light, drawing it to his lips—

  “Robbie, no!” I shouted and slapped the vial from his hand. It shattered on the concrete several feet away, its contents sizzling on the ground and disappearing through a plume of smoke. “Don’t drink that!”

  “Candace!” Relief dominated his voice. “You’re—I thought—never mind. Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

  “I’m fine.” I touched my head. My fingers felt wet. I didn’t need to look to know what it was, though I wouldn’t have been able to see beyond shadows anyway.

  “You’re not fine,” Robbie said, panic in his voice.

  “How are you?” I asked,
deflecting.

  “I’m okay,” he said in hard breaths, but I could only read the shadows of his lips. The storm reminded us it was still there. “We need to get out of the entrance,” he said. He tried to lift himself, but fell back. He pulled out his pocketknife and probed the dark side of the cellar with its tiny flashlight until it landed on an open doorway. “We’ll go in there,” he said.

  I rushed under his arm. He leaned on me and together we lifted him to his good foot. “What is it?”

  “My leg. Burns. Told you those pipes are hot.” His face couldn’t hide the pain, even in shadows. With several strained steps, we made it into the room and closed the door behind us.

  “That’s not just a burn,” I said.

  “You’re probably right.” Robbie’s light probed the room. It was dusty, with an area rug that covered most of the concrete floor. Abandoned supplies packed the shelves lining two walls. I helped Robbie to the floor against the wall. He stretched his injured leg out. It was the first time I could steal a better peek at his condition. Blood seeped from a gash above his temple, curling puffed skin apart. I looked around and pulled a decaying first aid kit from a mount on the wall.

  “What are you doing?” Robbie asked. “You shouldn’t be moving around.”

  “You’re injured.”

  “So are you. Let me help you,” he said. He tried to lift himself, then fell back when I returned to him, temporarily defeated.

  Inside the kit, the paper wrappings were curled and brittle. But inside the aged packaging, the gauze looked good as new. I wondered if this kit had ever been used, if this whole storm shelter had ever been used. I wondered how a tornado could be so forceful over such a large mound. Then I remembered the Burnett’s mound tornado in the sixties. We’d learned about it in school. Tornados don’t discriminate, my fourth-grade teacher had told the class of curious and terrified kids.

  “Hold still,” I ordered. I placed the gauze in his hand and examined his body under the dim light. The other scrapes were nothing like the laceration on his face. Pebbles burrowed into his flesh. I wanted to cry, and to puke, but I had to stay strong for the injured.

  I forced myself to clean out his wounds. When I got to his leg, he cringed and held his breath. A hole had been burned through his jeans, and his skin torn and crinkled back like paper crisped by flames. I had no idea what to do with it, and I slumped in front of Robbie, trying to find the will to continue. My vision blurred from stinging tears. I felt lightheaded. In a rush, the throbbing in my head made me acutely aware of the blood pumping inside me. I could feel warmth dripping down my temple.

  “C’mere,” Robbie coaxed. “It’s just a burn. Only looks bad now because it’s fresh. Could be worse, trust me.” His voice betrayed the pain behind the pretense.

  “It’s not just a burn,” I scolded. “It’s probably a fracture. I mean, you dropped a heavy motorcycle on it. You’re gonna need a doctor.”

  “Let me take care of you.” He looked at me now the way he used to look at me, only somehow differently, dragging the first aid kit to him. “Why are you good to me? Even now? After what I’ve done to you?”

  I had no answer. That was a good question. Yet even now, though I desperately wanted to, I couldn’t be angry with him. I cringed at the pressure he applied to my head. Then, suddenly, it stung like burning needles scraping the insides of my scalp.

  “Sorry,” he said. “Just wanna make sure it’s clean.”

  “You know what you’re doing?” I wondered how many times riding had hurt him.

  “Not really.”

  I narrowed my eyes at him. “Why were you going to drink that vial?”

  He wrenched back, aghast. “Wha—? I wasn’t gonna drink it. I was trying to smell it. I found it in your hand and…you looked…well, I thought you drank it.” He swallowed. “I had to know what it was. What was it?”

  “I don’t know.” And that was the truth. Alice hadn’t supplied a list of ingredients with the potion. It was gone now, and it didn’t matter because I’d already made my choice. “Are you okay?” I couldn’t hide the concern in my voice. It was hard to see him hurt like this.

  “I’ll be fine.” His breathing was erratic.

  “I dunno, Robbie….”

  “Your injury looks worse than mine,” he said.

  I touched my head again. It was wet, seeping through the gauze Robbie had put there. The sting had settled into an incessant pressure. And cold.

  Robbie pulled me into a firm embrace, squeezing me the way Shannen and I squeezed each other after our long separations. Was he crying? “Is it better?”

  I nodded. And bit my tongue.

  “Why did you come for me?” he asked.

  “No, no. I’m asking the questions, remember? You promised to tell me. What were you doing here?”

  He wiped his cheeks and sighed. “Candace.” He put my hand in his. “You have to know, the storm just snuck up on me. I’m not suicidal.”

  “I figured…. But you only come out here when you don’t want to be found. Why wouldn’t you want to be found?”

  He lowered his head, defeated. “Just needed to get away from my parents…they’ve been hounding me to work it out with Lucy. We had a history. I felt…guilty for what I did to her. I shouldn’t have drawn it out another year after I knew it was over. But, then…what I did to you…. I was wrong. I went to Ollie’s party to confess to you my—the way I feel.”

  My breathing stopped.

  Robbie’s voice was low but steady as he continued. “Candace, I can’t pretend our connection doesn’t exist. Just to make my parents happy. I can’t pretend I’m not in love with you.”

  My body melted and for a moment, the pressure in my head didn’t exist. I turned from Robbie’s gaze, trying to imagine my mother taking a controlling interest in my romantic life. She would definitely pick the wrong guy for me. But, then, even if she tried to pick for me, I’d never allow it.

  Robbie lowered his head. “Lucy didn’t take the breakup as well as I told you she did. But that doesn’t matter now. I hurt her and you. I don’t want to live with her. And I don’t want to live without you.” He paused, regarding me. “C’mere. Can I just...hold you? I never want to let you go.”

  I nestled the good side of my head on his chest, still unsure how to move forward with Robbie. His arm wrapped around me tight, as if he was afraid to let go. We said nothing, the only sound coming from the storm outside.

  Chapter 19

  IT SEEMED SAFE enough to venture outside. The sound of the freight train had been replaced by an eerie quiet. We walked out of the room together—well, I walked, Robbie hobbled, leaning on me. The entrance was littered with debris and bathed in thick, bright rays. The opening was wide and inviting, and deceptively encouraging.

  “I should go up and check it out,” Robbie said. “I don’t want you hurt again.”

  I shook my head. “There’s no way you’re doing this alone. You still need help walking. How are you going to climb the steps without me?”

  He gave in and leaned on me as we climbed up the cellar steps, though his walk strengthened as we ascended together. The sky was crystal blue, as if it had forgiven and forgotten its storm completely. But the ground…the ground remembered. Most of the foliage on the flora was gone. What few trees remained looked different…younger, maybe. Strange, I thought, then I realized that their bark was missing. The mound was completely exposed. But that wasn’t the most terrifying part.

  Where we stood, at the cellar entrance, there should have been an ominous shadow towering over us. There was no shadow. The building that had once cast that shadow was completely gone, as if it had been lifted from its foundation and carried away. No towering, creaky, ominous steeple. No walls. Nothing was left but remnants of its existence. For a long time, Robbie and I stared at the open space and endless piles of windblown debris, all that was left of the church’s dominance over this ground.

  “Can’t believe it. It’s just…gone….” Robbie tra
iled off, scanning the site. The more we stared, the more difficult it was for me to wrap my head around it.

  Robbie looked down at me. “Is it too forward to ask your forgiveness?”

  Of course it was! And also too late. That was what my mind told me. But when I opened my mouth, it was my heart that spoke. “I’ve already forgiven you.”

  Robbie leaned in. I could feel my heart quicken. His lips touched mine, softly, gently. Then he hesitated, a pool glistening beneath the hazel gaze. “I—I can’t lose you again.”

  “So, don’t,” I breathed.

  His lips brushed mine, tremulous and tender, then they parted, his tongue easing its way between my lips. His lips pressed harder, his tongue inside me, tangling with mine in an ardent, sensuous discourse. I could feel the good side of his body press into mine, melting into me. His arm wrapped around me, enfolding me, forcing my body against his, and leaning on me at the same time. Electricity shot through me. Fire ignited in my chest and coursed through my tremulous body in a frantic search for release. Our passions entangled, magnetizing our bodies into one, and the still air around us was a whirlwind again.

  Suddenly, all this indecision, all this talk of poison, seemed useless. As if there had ever been a decision to make. There was never a choice. It had always been Robbie.

  He wrenched back from my lips and looked at me, as though he could hear my thoughts. His eyes were ablaze, burning passion into my soul. “Would you, I mean, Candace, will you…marry me?”

  I choked on my saliva and a coughing fit ensued. That was not something I’d expected to hear anytime soon. We were just kissing and now he wants to talk…marriage? It made me think of what Alice had said. I see marriage within the next couple of years. I dismissed the memory. Marriage was my choice.

  “You okay?” he asked, patting my back.

  I nodded. Love was one thing…but marriage was something else entirely. I shook my head, ignoring Robbie’s confusion. No, no, no, this was all wrong! This was not how it was supposed to happen! I forced myself to look at him directly, trying to ignore his magnetic pull wrapped around me, and moved into the mind for a moment. “Robbie, marriage is a…commitment. You left me.”