by Susan Hatler
“There’s a good chance no one has stepped foot in these tunnels in decades,” he explained for the benefit of his recording device, taking one slow step downward at a time. Our feet crunched on bits of gravel and broken glass.
We moved further onward and downward, the top of the tunnel only a few feet above our heads. My heart was in my throat and I could barely breathe. We were really doing this! And I never could have done it without him. Seriously, I couldn’t have gotten the door open.
I trained my flashlight on the area above my head and oh, boy, I wished I hadn’t. The sight of a century’s worth of spider webs above my hair made me want to stop, drop, and scratch my head to shake out the invisible arachnids.
Stare straight ahead, Avery! For the sake of my sanity, I had to keep my eyes on the path.
Jason was right about the supports. Every few feet, wooden beams held up a framework, which stretched the length of the tunnel as far as the flashlight’s glare reached. I wondered how old it was—and how strong. An ever-present dripping sound coming from somewhere further into the tunnel made me question the quality of the wood.
“It looks like the tunnel widens up ahead,” Jason announced, both for my sake and for his eventual audience. “This must be where additional tunnels branch out.”
I looked down, sweeping my light over the tunnel floor. “Wow. Cans—some of them look unopened,” I marveled. Jason stopped, and I took the chance of letting go of his shoulder in favor of bending to pick up one of the rusted cans by my feet.
“Soup,” I murmured, holding the can up close to examine it. “But the label is ancient. I can barely read it—and I’ve never seen this brand before.”
“It’s definitely old,” he agreed, leaning in closer to me to read over my shoulder. “I wonder when it was printed.”
“And look at this!” A beer can. I dusted off the front, then the top. “There isn’t a pull tab. How did they open it?”
He chuckled. “You’ve seen a bottle opener before? You just punch a hole in here, and one opposite that hole to let the air in so you could drink.”
“No kidding.” I replaced the cans, feeling a little guilty as I did. Like I was disturbing somebody’s home. Or someone’s grave.
“I think from now on, we ought to leave everything where we found it,” Jason suggested, as if reading my mind as he trained the camera on the floor illuminating cans which lined the wall.
“Good idea,” I said, as we continued further. I felt much more confident than at first. Maybe because the more we walked, the clearer it was that we were on the path that others had traveled before us. There was something special about being here. People had made this their home. They’d eaten here, enjoyed their beer.
A little further in, we saw several tunnels branching out from the one we had entered. Wow. I just now realized what an important find we’d stumbled upon. This was huge.
“Oh, my goodness,” I breathed, letting go of Jason so I could look on my own. I spotted some kind of bedding in a corner. Granted, I wanted nothing to do with those old mattresses and stayed far away from them, but there were definitely mattresses and pillows and blankets. This place made my apartment look like a queen’s castle. It was all perspective, I supposed.
“Lanterns,” Jason said, training the camera on one such lantern hanging from a wooden peg. “Rusted, probably empty. Tin plates and bowls on the floor. An antique dealer would have a field day down here.”
“It could be a museum,” I marveled. And there were so many tunnels, stretching out as far as I could see. No telling how much more waited for us. My heart raced, my hands shook, and blood pumped in my ears loudly.
“Museum’s a good word,” Jason mused, joining me in training his flashlight down one of the tunnels. “I wonder if that’s what this space could be used for one day. An exhibit to educate the people in town on these miners, what their lives were like, how hard they worked to scrape together a living. I mean, they couldn’t afford homes of their own, so they had to live down here. They deserve to be remembered.”
Tears welled up in my eyes. I could feel them down here with us, and not in a scary or creepy way. They had walked through these tunnels on their way to and from a backbreaking job. There were probably many days during which they never saw the sun.
And they reminded me of the people from Founding Friendships, and how a lot of society tended to forget about them. How the soulless company trying to buy the building didn’t give a moment’s thought to the people they might be displacing. As if my friends didn’t matter, not to mention the hard work Bill and I and everybody else put into the building.
“We found the tunnels.” Jason slid an arm around my waist. “I think we ought to give it a rest for tonight. If we go any further, we ought to have an idea of where we are in relation to where Founding Friendships sits. We could easily get lost in here.”
“You’re right.” I gulped back my tears and nodded. No sense in getting lost down here. If that happened then no one would ever know what sat just underground, waiting to be discovered.
I followed him out without a word, careful to avoid disturbing anything. There was so much ground to be covered, so much exploration. The gears started turning in my head. What if we went to the local government and told them what we found? They could send people down here. Or the historical society! They would know better than we would what needed to be done next.
By the time we reached the mouth of the tunnel and stepped out into the now-windy, unsettled dark night, my entire body hummed with excitement. We were going to do this. We were going to save Founding Friendships and give these old miners a voice in the process.
Jason turned to me, pulling the dust mask up over his head. I didn’t notice until then how dust-streaked we’d become. The outline of dust the mask left on his skin was obvious.
I guessed my skin bore the same dusty outline, but it didn’t matter. It didn’t matter that the beginnings of a rainstorm pelted us, that every minute we spent by the open door was a minute in which we could’ve been caught by the police. The fact was that the tunnels were real and we’d found them. Somehow, we’d save Founding Friendships now.
I dropped my mask and walked to Jason, slipped my arms around his neck in spite of his dirty shirt and pressed a big, warm, grateful kiss on his mouth. My heart felt so full of hope, of promise, of gratitude and even relief in knowing our exploration hadn’t been in vain—that there was no better way I could imagine to express it all.
His mouth captured mine and his kiss brought to mind a key sliding into a lock. A puzzle piece falling into place. Jason added so much to my life, things I’d been missing without even knowing. Support, kindness, humor. He understood me better than any guy I’d ever known, to be sure. He was there for me and had been since the beginning, when he brought me the lilacs and fixed Sylvia’s plumbing.
I had completely fallen for him. The one thing I hadn’t wanted to do.
“Wow,” he said, dropping his forehead to mine. “I didn’t expect that.”
“Neither did I,” I confessed with a breathless giggle. No, I hadn’t expected any of what he’d brought to my life. “But I couldn’t resist.”
“I’ll have to explore creepy old tunnels with you more often.”
My phone went off just then, breaking the moment. I must’ve missed a call while we were underground, and the signal was finally strong enough for the message to come through. What poor timing. Ugh.
Jason closed the door—there went that terrible screeching again—and I checked my voicemail. The message was from Bill, and he did not sound happy:
Hi, Avery. It’s Bill. We have a big problem. When you get this message, please come see me. I’m at the Founding Friendships residence building. Thanks. Bye.
Like the popping of a balloon, my mood went from sky-high to the very pits.
Jason finished loading up his backpack and turned to me with a curious expression.
I sighed. “There’s a problem at the residence
building. You in the mood to take a short ride?”
His jaw muscle tightened and he paused a moment, before nodding. He slipped his hand in mine and, together, we hurried down the path toward his car.
Chapter Fourteen
When we arrived at the Founding Friendships building and walked down the hall to his office, Bill was beside himself.
“I can’t believe this,” he said, raking a hand through his hair when he saw us. “I thought we had more time.” He looked and sounded like he was about to have a panic attack, or worse.
I crouched in front of him, where he sat at his desk behind a mountain of paperwork. “I need you to do something for me if you don’t mind. I need you to breathe.”
“Avery . . .”
“Just breathe, Bill.” Granted, I might have been stalling just the tiniest bit because I truly wasn’t sure I wanted to know the bad news. “And remember that whatever it is, we can get through it. You aren’t alone. I promise.”
He searched my eyes like he was searching for truth he could cling to, and my heart went out to him. “All right,” he said, nodding, before taking a deep breath in and letting it out slowly.
“That’s great,” I said, pushing up onto my feet.
Looking only a little calmer and more coherent, he lifted a piece of paper from his desk, and handed it to me. I glanced up at Jason, who stood just inside the doorway, but his expression was unreadable. What I needed just then was a little reassurance, the sort I was trying to give Bill. I couldn’t do it all on my own.
But it looked like I would have to.
I unfolded the paper, revealing a neatly typed letter. I skimmed its contents and then gasped. “The developer is buying the building. It’s a done deal. We have less than thirty days to get everyone out.”
“Twenty-two days, to be exact,” Bill said, clutching his hand to his heart. “Thirty days from the date the sale was made. I can’t tell you why it took them so long to get word to me, but I’m guessing it’s because they didn’t care.”
“Haven’t you told them who lives here?”
“Yes, Jill Parnell and I sent them a letter about the Founding Friendships residence, begging them to find another location for their upscale condos. It doesn’t matter to them. The new owners can legally do whatever they want. And all of these people who are trying so hard to rebuild their lives will have to start over. Again. For maybe the fifth, tenth, twentieth time.”
My throat tightened to the point where I wasn’t sure I could breathe anymore. This was happening too fast. “We need more time,” I said, looking up at Jason.
“We might have found a way to save the building,” he said, stepping into the room. “We’re going to do everything we can to stop this.”
Bill only made a choking noise that seemed like a cross between a laugh and a snicker. “I appreciate you two wanting to help, but you can’t put a stop to this. It’s done. There are things that need to be done now. We have to accept reality and need to find new housing for as many of the residents as we can. We need to help them pack and arrange transportation of their things.”
My mouth dropped open. “You can’t give up, Bill.”
“I don’t want to, but we can’t wait until they’re evicted the day the deed passes over to the new owners, either. There will be no time to get their things together before the demolition starts. This will be traumatic enough. We can’t wait until the last minute.”
He was right. I remembered all too well having my life thrown into complete disarray.
I looked at the letter again, taking in the letterhead of Johnson, Carson and Lewis—the company that bought the building, the ones who sent this sudden notice. I wanted nothing more than to go to their office address in San Francisco and give them a healthy piece of my mind.
“We’re going to do something about this, Bill.” I put on the bravest face I could muster, folded the letter, and slipped it into my purse. “Promise me you’ll wait until morning to start the move. We still have three weeks. Okay?”
He nodded, slowly. “All right. I’ll wait until morning to do anything.”
“Good. I’ll call first thing.” I gave him a quick hug before leaving, with Jason moving along beside me. Once we were in the hall, my shoulders slumped.
“You don’t have to take all of this on yourself,” he said, sliding an arm around me. “We’re in this together.”
“Thank you,” I said, noting that he really did sound troubled, like my problem was his problem. How much closer to perfect could he possibly get? I never asked him to care so much, and yet he did.
“I need to come up with something before morning. I have to give Bill some sort of plan,” I said, sliding into the passenger seat of the Ferrari and waiting for Jason to come around after closing my door. The comfy seat was just what my suddenly tired, aching body needed.
Jason pulled out of the lot. “We should contact the historical society first, like we discussed earlier. The city council, too. We’ll tell them what they have down there and maybe tell them what we’re dealing with here. There are three weeks until the deed changes hands, and you might have a historically significant building facing the wrecking ball.”
“Right. Good idea.” I leaned back against the padded headrest and closed my eyes.
“I would also have the historical society get in touch with JCL. Clearly, Bill’s not getting through to them about putting a stop to the sale. Maybe the historical society’s lawyers can speak a little louder to make JCL listen, if you know what I mean.”
I blinked. “JCL?”
“Johnson, Carson and Lewis.”
I turned to him. “How did you know that?”
“Know what?”
“The name of the company buying the building. How did you know? I didn’t even know until tonight, and I read it on the letter Bill gave me.”
He was silent for a second. “I saw the letterhead.”
“You could read the words from across the room? I had it in front of me, behind the desk, and barely held it up. There’s no way you could’ve seen the words. Were you looking into this without me knowing about it?”
“No, I just . . . recognized the letterhead.” His facial muscles tightened, the muscle along is jaw pulsing.
“What’s going on?” My stomach churned and everything went dizzy. “What aren’t you telling me?”
“Avery, it’s not what you think . . .”
“Wrong thing to say, because that means it is what I think.” I covered my face with my hands as the world crumbled around me. Jason knew who JCL was because he worked for JCL! He’d told me he was in town from San Francisco on business but he’d never said it involved the very building I was trying to save. My heart hardened. “Pull over.”
“Wait, let me explain—”
“Pull. The car. Over.” It took every ounce of strength in me to keep from bursting out in tears. No, not tears. Sobs. I’d totally and completely fallen for Jason, and he’d betrayed me. “Drop me off right here. I’m serious.”
He did as I asked, which was at least one thing in his favor. The only thing.
He pulled to the side of the road, which happened to be a rather empty stretch along the route back to my apartment. I jumped out of the car and slammed the door as hard as I could. He could afford a little repair work if I messed anything up for Mr. High-Powered Heartless Corporate Snake.
“You work for them, don’t you?” I asked, swirling to face him. “You’re behind this mess the homeless residence is in. Oh, why didn’t I see it before? At least you could’ve had the decency to look guilty back there. Did you like seeing Bill fall apart like that?”
His eyebrows came together. “You know I didn’t.”
“It doesn’t matter to you, though, does it? Because you can go on with your life.” I ran a hand over my cheeks as tears started to flow. Hot, angry tears. “You can go back to San Francisco and to your fancy apartment, while these people have nowhere to go!”
“Would you please he
ar me out?” he asked, jumping out of the car to follow me.
“Leave me alone.” I waved my arms in the air, my legs pumping as fast as they could to get away. “Don’t ever call me again, don’t come to my apartment. I sure don’t want to see you at Founding Friendships. And unless you want me to make a scene, don’t come to the bakery.”
“Why won’t you give me a chance to explain?” he asked, jogging behind me as I speed-walked with my arms hugging my middle.
I whirled around to face him, making him stop short to keep from slamming into me. “What does it matter what you say? Your explanations won’t mean anything, because for all I know they’d be more lies. At the end of the day, you’ve been working for the enemy all along. You’ve been behind the sale all this time and you didn’t even tell me.”
He raked a hand through his dark hair. “I wanted to tell you!”
“You didn’t, or you would have,” I said, turning my back on him. “I don’t want to hear any more of your lies, Jason. I’m through with them. Just leave the peons like me and those poor, soon-to-be-homeless people to scramble around and clean up the mess you profited on.”
“Please, Avery,” he said, his voice hoarse. But I didn’t hear his footsteps behind me anymore, because he stopped following. His voice got quieter and quieter the further away I walked from him. “Avery, I’m begging you to hear me out.”
Part of me wanted to turn around and go to him, to hear what he had to say. But my heart felt like a knife had sliced through the center, so I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t even look at him again. Not after he broke my heart, like he had most certainly done. How could I have allowed myself to fall for him?
I’d been right about him at the start, but I let myself forget because he was funny and generous and he’d seemed so kind. I didn’t want to look deeper. Looking deeper would’ve meant realizing nobody could be as perfect as he’d pretended to be.